A Peach of a Pair

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A Peach of a Pair Page 8

by Kim Boykin


  “What kind of name is Guthrie Darr,” Remmy teased. “Sounds awful flimsy to me.”

  “I assure you, he is not flimsy, but he is quite dreamy,” I said.

  When Remmy smiled at me, my face went hot, and there was just enough light from the candles and the flashlight to see he was watching me, and he was enjoying himself. I moved the candles in the Mason jars on the small table toward him and Katie, glad to retreat a little further in the darkness.

  “Why, the whole school, and not just the students, practically pledged their undying love to him when they dedicated the class of fifty-three yearbook to him. My roommate, Sue, worked on the dedication for two weeks; I heard it so many times, I cold recite it in my sleep. To Guthrie Darr for his winning personality, his sincerity, and true friendship. You add a new note to the music of our lives.” I barely got Sue’s painstakingly written tribute out without laughing. She would have been mortified, but it had been funny to watch the whole school swoon over the likes of one man. “Every girl truly adored him.”

  “Even you, Nettie Gilbert?” Remmy clutched his heart, flirting hard enough to put the private on the bus to shame. “Please. Say it isn’t so.”

  Remmy was dreamy in his own right, and without a single quality I’d consider in a man. No, the next man in my life, if there ever was one, would be everything Remmy Wilkes and Brooks Carver were not, and above all, he would be faithful. Even if that meant he was unfortunate looking and as dumb as a sack of hammers.

  “Knock it off, Remmy,” Katie snapped playfully, but with an edge in her voice. “This is girl talk and if you’re going to play the peanut gallery, you can go straight to bed.”

  “All right. All right,” Remmy said. “I’ll just sit here and listen, but honest to God, it’s hard to take you ladies seriously when y’all make that place sound like Nirvana. There had to be some drawback.”

  “It practically was,” Katie said. “And there were no drawbacks, except for freshman year when dates were chaperoned.”

  “Oh, it’s changed with the times,” I said. “Freshmen can double-date now, after second semester, of course.”

  “Because it’s harder for two girls to get themselves in trouble than just one? That makes perfect sense.” Even in the dim light, he’d seen my face fade and knew he’d struck a chord.

  “Remmy Wilkes, don’t talk about such a delicate subject in mixed company. It’s uncouth,” Katie chided.

  “It’s not uncouth; as a licensed physician, I’m entitled to talk about the human condition, not judge it,” he said, looking at me like he hoped to see my smile return. I turned toward Katie and allowed my hair to curtain the side of my face. “That’s for the busybodies and gossips, of which I know you are not one, good sister. And if you were, with all you know from folks coming and going from my office, I’d have to fire you.”

  “You’d never fire me. Not in a million years, and you’re just jealous because you went to the lowly old College of Charleston,” Katie teased.

  “Ah, yes. Poor me. Going to a real school that was founded in seventeen hundred and seventy rather than what? Yesterday?”

  “Eighteen fifty-four is hardly yesterday,” Katie said.

  “We sing the praise of her we love,” I pitched the song too high, and came down an octave. “We lift her name in song. White gleaming as the stars.”

  Katie joined in our alma mater with a beautiful rich contralto voice that sounded so much like Sue’s it would have made me cry if Remmy hadn’t chimed in, loud and awful, making both Katie and I shout our alma mater over his. “Her gentle heart has made her great; her breath is love, she knows no hate. Her faith that God controls her fate makes great our own Columbia.”

  We all broke into laughter that competed with the raging storm, and I realized that was the first time I’d really laughed in weeks. “On that horrible note, if you don’t mind showing me to my room, Katie, I’m going to bed,” I announced. “I have to be at the Eldridges’ at seven.”

  “I’ll show you to your room,” Remmy said, opening the screen door. I followed Katie into the house. “I’ll drop you off tomorrow too,” he offered, unaware of the look his sister gave him, for just a moment.

  “It’s close enough to walk; I’ll be fine. But if you’d drop off my suitcase when you bring my things from the college, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

  “Of course. Come on now, I’ll show you to your room upstairs.” His hand brushed across the small of my back like it had at the sisters’ house, only this time it lingered, guiding me to the stairs. “Good night, sis,” he called. Katie didn’t return his words.

  10

  NETTIE

  Thankfully, I’d unfolded my good Ship ’n Shore blouse and hung it up last night so it only looked like I’d wallowed in it rather than slept fitfully through the night in it, but I suspected Miss Lurleen wouldn’t care. Miss Emily was an entirely different story. Yesterday, among other things, I’d noticed her housedress was perfectly pressed, each tiny pleat steamed into place. She wore earbobs that made her lobes an angry red when she snatched one of them off to massage her ear. And her shoes were not sensible for someone her age, but Miss Emily seemed like she didn’t feel ancient and certainly didn’t want to look that way. She had an air about her that said she’d always been beautiful, worshiped.

  Miss Lurleen was sturdy. I suspected she had been a beauty in her own right when she was my age. But she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t have cared one bit, compared to Miss Emily, who likely craved attention as much as she savored it.

  I slipped on the yellow skirt I’d worn the day before. Buttoning my baby blue cap-sleeved blouse, I remembered what it felt like to be adored, to be someone else’s wonder, Brooks’s wonder. No matter what had happened between now and the night in the grove, I knew Brooks had loved me then. I pinched the tender skin of my underarm just below my elbow, a trick my applied music professor taught me when I was learning a new song.

  The pain was supposed to create an aversion to the excitement, the nervousness I felt at learning a new piece and flying through it. Pinching the underside of my arm made me slow down, and the marks weren’t easily seen. After Professor Parker suggested the idea my freshman year, I was black and blue for weeks, but I quickly learned to temper my nerves, keep my thoughts in the proper direction.

  I pinched myself again and vowed I would every time my mind strayed from my job at the Eldridges’ to unruly thoughts of Brooks or Sissy, my parents or my old life. And most especially every time I was tempted to sass or argue with Miss Emily, my thumb and forefinger would painfully remind me to redirect my thoughts so that I could keep my job. I raised my arm and took in the angry red mark, praying that would be the last one and ready to sally forth into my new life.

  REMMY

  Remmy had every intention of seeing Cecil first and then swinging by the college to pick up Nettie’s things, until he woke up smiling, thinking about her. He wrote it off to the fact that she was smart and funny and beautiful. The fact that she slept two doors down from him last night probably had something to do with it too. Whatever the case, she’d been on his mind all day, and the closer he got to Columbia, the more he wanted to know her story. The one she wasn’t telling last night on the porch.

  Pulling into the Columbia College main entrance, he glanced at his watch. He was definitely cutting it close if he was going to make it to Baptist Hospital on time. He got out of his car and headed off to look for the administration building, ignoring the girls rubbernecking as he walked past them. That was one of the things he remembered about Katie going here, even the most homely guy could feel like a god at an all-girls school. He remembered grinning at the girls when he’d come to visit and Katie whacking his shoulder, ordering him to stop encouraging their adoration. But he was a guy, and guys liked that sort of thing.

  He stopped at a flock of students perched on the lawn, maybe twenty, some giggling, some o
f them sighing, trying to catch his eye. “Good afternoon, ladies. Which way to the admin building?”

  “That way,” a portly brunette said. “I can show you if you like.” And then ten other girls offered to show him too.

  It was toward the end of the semester, the time Remmy had always poured it on at the College of Charleston in order to get the grades he needed to get into med school. But instead of looking serious, halfway studious, most of the girls looked at him like it was open season for the Sadie Hawkins ball.

  “Thanks. I’ll find it.” Remmy nodded.

  He found the building, hurried up the steps, and followed the signs to the dean’s office. A cute blonde with a face as round as a dinner plate blushed the moment he entered the reception area. “Hello, I’m Dr. Wilkes. I’m here to pick up some boxes for Nettie Gilbert. I was told Dean Kerrigan would have them ready to go.”

  “Are you that kind of doctor?” The girl sounded like a bubblehead.

  “A medical doctor? Yes.” Remmy hated his condescending tone that sounded so much like his father, who always insisted on being called Dr. Wilkes by everyone. Remmy’s mother said it was because his father had worked long and hard for the title and wanted to be recognized as such, but it always felt like his father was proclaiming he was better than everybody else, including Remmy.

  “Oh, so, Nettie really is—” The girl paused. “You know. Because I’d heard it was her sister— Wow, Nettie’s expecting?” She whispered the last word.

  Nettie was expecting? That explained the glow he’d been sure was a reflection of her natural beauty, her abrupt departure from this place that didn’t feel any more like an institution of higher learning than it did when Katie went here. “Not that it’s any business of yours. Now, about Miss Gilbert’s things.”

  “Yes, sir.” The girl snapped to, went into the dean’s office, and rummaged around before reemerging. “The boxes aren’t here. Let me call Miss Beaumont, the housemother for Nettie’s dorm; she knows everything about everything.”

  The girl plucked a yellow pencil from behind her ear, dialed the number, and waited. “Eve? Hi this is Ginny at Dean Kerrigan’s office. Someone’s come to fetch Nettie Gilbert’s things. A doctor. Yeah, I know can you believe it? He says some boxes should be here but they’re not. Any ideas?” She paused and shoved the pencil back into place and waited. “Can you ask Miss Beaumont if she knows? Oh, she is? I think she makes up that story about going to the doctor for her bursitis. I think she has a boyfriend. No. No kidding.

  “Every time I go into Tapp’s Department Store, I see her at the lunch counter, and she hasn’t bought a thing. Well of course I know you don’t have to buy something. But like I was saying, Miss Beaumont was looking all goo-goo eyed at the soda jerk, you know that old guy with too much hair? Yes, I know isn’t that a scream. The last time I was there, and you know I shop every Saturday, religiously, whether I buy something or not— Ooh, I forgot to tell you, I found this little yellow sweater set with the cutest—” Remmy cleared his throat and the girl nodded at him. “Anyway, it’s a divine outfit, and as I was leaving, I saw Miss Beaumont at the exact same spot, and—”

  “Miss?” Remmy clipped, glancing at his watch. Cecil would be pissed if he was late for the interview, and Remmy wanted that job.

  “Oh, yes. Do you know anything about Nettie’s things, Eve?” Remmy didn’t return her conciliatory smile. Moments later the girl started up again. “Well, tell Sue, she has to. He’s here now. Waiting rather impatiently I might add.” She whispered the last words into the phone just loud enough for Remmy to hear. “Hey, don’t say that; it’s not fair. Nettie was always nice to us. No, for pity’s sake, don’t alert Justine and her minions. I don’t care that Bettie and Gina have been nice to you lately, they’re mean girls. They’re not your friends. Even if you share this little tidbit with them, they’ll dump you soon as they get what they want. What do they want? Why, you’re a crackerjack at mathematics. All right then. I’ll send him over now. Thanks, Eve. Hey? You wanna go to Tapp’s Saturday?”

  “Miss,” Remmy barked, making the girl jump a mile. “Please.”

  “Gotta go.” She hung up the phone and propped her chin on her hands, her expression a cross between coquettish and apologetic. “Sorry. You can pull your car around to East Dorm. Eve will try to pry Nettie’s things away from Sue and you can be on your way. By the way, how is she?”

  “Nettie is fine,” he said as uncomfortably as if one of the busybodies back home had asked him to discuss one of his patients. Of course Nettie wasn’t his patient, and for some reason, that bothered him.

  “Nobody could believe what happened to her. I mean, she’s Nettie Gilbert, for Pete’s sake. It’s just so sad, a nice girl like her ending up that way.”

  Nettie certainly didn’t look like she was expecting, but if these girls knew, that meant she was more than likely a couple of months along. And in the family way, she’d be in no shape to deal with the Eldridge sisters six months from now, maybe even sooner. Maybe there wasn’t any point in taking her things to Camden. Maybe she’d just go back to wherever she came from, and why did that bother him?

  When he’d interviewed her, there’d been moments when the determination in her eyes had bordered on desperation. Maybe she had nowhere else to go. Remmy had seen that time and time again with unwed mothers and he hated it. No, he’d do what any good doctor would do for Nettie Gilbert. Help her as best he could, see to it that she knew what to do to remain healthy for herself and her baby. But it niggled at him, some guy taking advantage of Nettie, not doing right by her. A girl like her, she must have fallen hard for him to end up in her predicament, and surprisingly, that bothered him even more.

  The girl stood and returned the pencil to the cup on the desk. “I’ll just get my sweater and show you where to go.”

  Remmy waved her off. “Thank you for your help; I’ll find it myself.”

  “Oh, wait. You need to know how to get to East.”

  “I’ll find it,” he repeated, wanting to just get the hell out of there.

  He saw a yardman and asked for directions to Nettie’s dormitory, and it did not take three years and a running commentary about shopping at Tapp’s to get a straight answer. Remmy jogged back to his car and was pulling into a space behind the building a few minutes later. A bevy of women whistled from above. He looked up to see two dozen girls in bathing suits on the roof, smiling down on him.

  It wasn’t so long ago that he and Cecil used to pass by the girls’ dorms at the College of Charleston to try to catch a glimpse of the girls sunbathing on the roof in their skimpy suits. He doubted Nettie was one of those rooftop girls, not if her porcelain skin was any indication. He gave a half wave, ignored the giggles and catcalls as he headed into the building.

  Waiting at the front desk was a tearstained young woman with the saddest expression Remmy had ever seen, yet she was dressed utterly cockeyed so that each piece of clothing she had on clashed with the other. A large yellow suitcase was sandwiched between her and two overflowing pasteboard boxes she had in a death grip. A half dozen or so dresses on hangers were draped over the boxes, and she was looking at Remmy like he was Simon Legree.

  “You must be Sue.” He extended his hand. “I’m Remmy Wilkes,” he said, leaving the doctor off. Still, she didn’t let go of the boxes. “Thanks for bringing Nettie’s things down. I know she’s looking forward to getting them.”

  Truthfully, he knew nothing of the sort, but he felt a little like he was trying to talk this girl off the ledge; his tone certainly sounded that way. She nodded and raked her arm across her runny nose. “Nettie is my best friend.”

  “Of course.” Remmy nodded. “She’s a very nice girl.”

  “We always took care of each other. Oh.” She waved her hand frantically in front of her face to swat away her tears. “I’m just going to miss her so much. And I worry about her.”

  R
emmy was worried too; he knew how this worked, and it was a damn shame. Girls like Nettie going into hiding. Shipped off to some home for unwed mothers under the pretense of an extended vacation to visit a long-lost aunt who didn’t exist. Even worse were the girls Remmy knew for a fact were held prisoner in their own homes. While their parents made up some story about them being away from home, the girls were forced to stay away from the windows. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, when they finally went into labor and had to leave the house to be delivered, they were made to lie down in the car with blankets thrown over them.

  The shameful way those girls were treated was far and away more immoral than some poor girl getting herself pregnant.

  “I’ll take care of her,” he swore before he realized. He had no cause or claim to take care of Nettie Gilbert, but he would do this for her friend, for every young girl who showed up at the hospital when he was in med school, terrified and ashamed. For Nettie. “I promise.”

  “What Brooks did to her—”

  So, that was the bastard’s name. Brooks. A single syllable, curt and cold; he even sounded like a pompous ass. Well, good for Nettie, getting away from a guy like that. He didn’t deserve her.

  Sue snarfed and lifted one of the overflowing boxes. “Allow me,” Remmy said, taking the box from her. He made two trips to the car and put the top up so Nettie’s things wouldn’t be full of dust and pollen when he got them back to Camden.

  “Thanks. For doing this,” Sue said. “Give her a hug for me.” She straightened herself and attempted to smile. “Tell her I love her, but please don’t tell her I told you about Brooks.”

  “I won’t,” he lied. Of course Remmy wouldn’t mention the bastard when he talked to Nettie about her delicate situation. But at some point he would broach the subject, of course before the baby came, to let her know not all men are alike. Although the ones like this Brooks fellow certainly were.

 

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