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Lily of the Springs

Page 9

by Carole Bellacera

“Well, girl?” Daddy spoke gruffly. “What’s so important that the younguns couldn’t hear?”

  I threw Aunt Jenny a panicked look. I can’t do this! I’d rather die!

  As if reading my mind, she grabbed my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She fastened her eyes on Mother and said, “Alpina…Edson…Lily Rae has some…disturbing news. I promised I’d stay with her because this isn’t going to be easy for…any of us.”

  I felt two pairs of eyes turn my way—one dark, the other light. I tried to swallow, but my saliva had run dry. My hands were clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. I couldn’t look directly at Daddy. He sat at the table, a big bear of a man with deep-set brown eyes and sun-weathered skin like tanned leather.

  Bowing my head, I stared at the tips of the pretty black pumps Jenny had bought me at JC Penney’s just before I’d started school. “I’m in trouble,” I said softly.

  Moments ticked by in an unearthly silence.

  “What sort of trouble, Lily Rae?” Mother’s voice sounded unnaturally loud in the kitchen.

  I kept my eyes on my shoes. “I’m going to have a baby.” The words came out in a soft gush. And then I burst into tears.

  Aunt Jenny was right there, holding me, just like she’d said she’d be. I sobbed into her shoulder, terrified of looking at my parents. But in the end, I couldn’t not look. I dragged myself away from my aunt, and turned. “Please don’t hate me! I’m not a bad person. I just…” I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “I love him.”

  Daddy’s face was like stone. Only his eyes revealed his emotions—anger, dismay and yes, there it was…shame. And Mother. Her face was white, eyes horrified. She sat stiffly, hands in her lap. And right before my eyes, she seemed to age ten years.

  “Who is the boy?” Daddy asked. His voice was emotionless as if he’d just asked if it was raining outside.

  I’d thought that once I’d got the words out about my pregnancy, the worst would be over. But now I knew it wasn’t. The worst was right now. When I had to tell them who’d got me in this situation.

  “Tell them, Lily Rae,” Aunt Jenny said, giving my shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

  Through a curtain of tears, I looked at my parents as they waited for my answer. Both of them so stoic on the outside, but crumbling on the inside, I knew. So disappointed, so ashamed of me. Panic welled inside me.

  How can I break their hearts any more than I already have by telling them Jake is the father?

  With one wild, pleading glance at Aunt Jenny, I broke away from her grasp. “I can’t do it, Aunt Jenny! I just can’t!”

  And I’d run out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my old room. Sobbing, I’d thrown myself onto the bed next to an astonished Norry. That had been some time ago. I didn’t know, or much care, how much time had passed. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now.

  A soft tap came at the door, and I felt Norry scuttle off the bed. I kept my face buried in the pillow, finally spent of tears, but unable to muster the energy to move. I heard the soft murmuring of voices followed by the door closing. There was a rustle of cloth as someone approached. I stiffened. If it was Mother, how could I bear to see the shame and disappointment in her eyes?

  “Lily Rae?”

  It wasn’t Mother, but Aunt Jenny. Bitter disappointment raged through me. I’d wanted it to be Mother. I needed to know that despite everything, she still loved me. That she could forgive me.

  The bed shifted as Aunt Jenny sat on the edge of it. “Hon, the worst is over now. Once they get used to the news, they’ll come around. They love you, baby. That hasn’t changed.” My aunt’s fingers caressed my hair lovingly. “That will never change.”

  I summoned the strength to roll over and face her. Her blue eyes were pink-tinged as if she’d been crying, too. “Even after you told them who the father is?” I whispered. “You did tell them, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, pulling one of her lace-edged handkerchiefs out of her pocket and dabbing at my eyes. “I did.”

  My stomach plunged. So, they knew. “And what did they say?”

  Aunt Jenny met my gaze steadily. “Not much. Nothing at all, really.” She brushed a curl, damp from my tears, away from my face. “Alpina just got up and started to clear the dishes. I guess she’d forgotten nobody had eaten yet. And your father…well, he went upstairs and came down a minute later with Landry. They got in his car and drove off toward town.”

  I sat up. “Where do you think they’re going?”

  “My guess is…to pick up the justice of the peace…and maybe the sheriff.” Aunt Jenny gave my hand a pat. “So, if I were you, I’d fix my face, brush my hair, and put on my prettiest dress. This might well be your wedding day.”

  I stared at my aunt in shock. “No!” I shook my head. “I don’t want it to be like this! It can’t happen like this!”

  Aunt Jenny just looked at me sadly. “Honey, I don’t think you have a choice.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I heard the crunch of wheels on gravel outside my opened window, and my heart gave a lurch. My eyes met Aunt Jenny’s. For a long moment, neither one of us moved. Then my aunt turned to the door. “I’ll go down and find out…” Her voice trailed off as she slipped out of the room.

  But I knew what she meant. Had Daddy and the boys come back with Jake? It had been more than an hour since they’d left. Aunt Jenny had gone down to my car and brought up my suitcase, packed with the few outfits I’d taken with me to secretarial school, along with the few she’d bought for me. One of them, I supposed, would serve as a wedding dress.

  Tears had rolled down my face as I donned a simply-cut gray linen suit. I’d always imagined wearing a beautiful white gown and a veil of lace on my wedding day. I’d imagined gliding down the aisle of Poplar Grove Baptist Church, carrying a bouquet of white roses and lilies-of-the-valley, perhaps with a tear or two in my eyes as I smiled radiantly at the people I loved. Not so long ago, I’d imagined Jake waiting at the end of the aisle beside the preacher, Brother Joe Bob Riddle, his eyes shining with adoration as I marched to Lettie Sue Cunningham’s rendition of “Here Comes the Bride” on the piano.

  But then, I reminded myself that dreams like that only came true for good girls. Car doors slammed outside, and I moved to the window to peer out. In the feeble light of a crescent moon, I could just make out four figures walking toward the porch. I caught my breath. That was Jake’s devil-may-care gait; I’d recognize it anywhere. He made his way up the porch steps behind my father and another man, followed closely by Landry. I expelled a long, relieved breath. At least they weren’t dragging Jake into the house.

  A flash of headlights at the end of the driveway caught my attention. Now who the blazes was that? The car pulled up behind Daddy’s old Chevy, and it was then that I saw the bubble light on the top. My stomach took a dip. It was Burps Dewey, the county sheriff.

  My heart began to pound. I turned away from the window and moved woodenly toward my bed. A part of me wanted to rush downstairs and put myself between Jake and our mutual enemies—my family and the law—just in case things should spin out of control. Like every other able-bodied man in these hollows, Daddy had a shotgun, and knew how to use it. But the other part of me—the cowardly part—wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a hundred years like Rip Van Winkle…or was it Sleeping Beauty?

  Downstairs, I heard the deep rumble of male voices. Deciding my future, I supposed. It didn’t seem right. Shouldn’t I be down there to have a say? But then, what would I say?

  Marry me, Jake? I don’t care whether you love me or not, just marry me and make an honest woman of me.

  A soft tap came at the door, and I looked up. The door opened and Aunt Jenny stuck her dark head into the room. “They’re ready for you, Lily Rae,” she said with a gentle smile. But I didn’t miss the worry in her blue eyes.

  I ran my hands down my skirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.“Do I look all right?” I asked Jenny, glancing sideways in the mirror at the dres
sing table. The bruises caused by Jake’s cruel grasp on my chin were barely visible after an application of pancake make-up. I pressed a hand over my flat tummy. Impossible to believe there was a growing baby in there. Even now, it seemed unreal.

  Aunt Jenny stepped into the room and came over to me. She grasped my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Honey, you look beautiful.”

  I thought I saw a tear glistening in her eye, but she released me and turned away too quickly for me to be sure. My heart thudded as I followed her trim figure down the narrow stairs and into the front parlor where a crowd awaited us.

  With the exception of Norry, they were all there—Jake, Mother and Daddy, my brothers and two others—the sheriff and the preacher, Brother Joe Bob. And all of them—except for Edsel—looked as if they were at a funeral.

  Mother stood near the doorway leading into the kitchen, poised for flight, it seemed to me. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her face as grim as the preacher man’s who stood between me and Jake, holding a well-worn Bible in his tobacco-stained hands. Brother Joe Bob had been preaching at Poplar Grove since I was in diapers. My cheeks grew hot. What he must think of me! Because of course, he knew. How could he not?

  My gaze darted to Jake. He stood between the preacher and my father, his arms stiff at his sides, his gaze fastened on the tips of his oil-splotched work boots. He still wore his Gulf uniform. Lord, if Daddy had gone down to the station to collect him, it would be all over town by morning.

  In the back of the room stood my brothers. Landry kept his gaze averted from me, his body unnaturally stiff. Edsel looked like he was having trouble holding back a smirk. The ornery little scamp was enjoying my misery.

  I shifted my gaze to Daddy who stood on Jake’s left side like a big, implacable bear, his hound dog-like face glowing mahogany in the lamplight. His coal-black eyes skewered me, and I saw a multitude of emotion in them. Anger, disgust, disappointment and…yes…heartbreak.

  I had to look away. In desperation, my gaze fastened on Jake again. He was still staring at his boots.

  Look at me, I willed him. The only way I can get through this is if I know you’re with me. That we’re in it together. If we love each other, Jake, we can get through anything.

  And just like that, he lifted his head and looked at me. I swallowed hard. Just as I’d deciphered the range of emotion in Daddy’s eyes, I was now able to do the same with Jake. In the depths of his gaze, in those few seconds before he looked away, I saw a combination of fear and shame--and something else I couldn’t put a name to.

  My father broke the tense silence in the room by clearing the phlegm from his throat. “No sense in puttin’ it off, Brother Joe Bob. You can get started now.” He gestured to me. “Git on over here, girl, and stand next to your man.”

  Eyes on the floor, I obeyed. I took a position on Jake’s right side, and only then did I find the nerve to look up. My gaze met Aunt Jenny’s across the room. She nodded and gave me an encouraging smile.

  I knew what she was trying to communicate to me. This is your wedding day, Lily Rae. Don’t let anybody ruin it for you.

  I gave her a tremulous smile. Thank you. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Jake, silently urging him to look at me, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. Preacher Joe Bob opened the Bible and turned to face us. “Dearly Beloved…” he began.

  I began to tremble. Despite Aunt Jenny’s heartfelt nod of encouragement, despite my love for Jake, despite the baby growing in my womb, I knew with a sudden clarity that this was all wrong. As the preacher’s monotonous words droned through my brain like an annoying bee, I chewed on my bottom lip while hot, liquid panic bubbled up inside me.

  “If there’s anyone here who objects to this union between Lillian Rae Foster and Jacob Royce Tatlow, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

  Seconds ticked by and there was nothing but cold, unnerving silence in the room. I looked across the room at Aunt Jenny. She stared back solemnly, her upper teeth gnawing at her bottom lip.

  A memory flashed across my mind. Another wedding, ten years ago. I’d been only eight, but I remembered it well. Most of all, I remembered the look on Uncle Virgil’s face as he slipped the ring on Aunt Jenny’s slender finger—adoring, almost worshiping. Like a man in love. Through my eyelashes, I stole a glance at Jake. He was staring at the Bible as if it were a coiled snake.

  “Ya’all have rings?” Preacher Joe Bob asked.

  Jake looked at me. I stared back at him. I knew intuitively he was thinking about the ring made out of twig he’d placed on my finger when we were children. My heart lifted.

  He does love me. Maybe he’s not all that excited about getting married so young, but he loves me, and that’s what’s important.

  But then I saw his eyes go dead, and that was when I could finally put a name to the emotion I’d seen earlier. Resignation. My throat tightened, and I had to look away from him or risk bursting into tears and humiliating myself further on this, the most mortifying day of my life.

  Daddy spoke up, “Alpina, give me your wedding ring.”

  Mother hesitated only a moment, and then twisted off the simple gold band she’d worn as long as I could remember. She handed it over to Daddy who gave it to the preacher. He passed it to Jake.

  “Do you, Jacob Royce Tatlow, take Lillian Rae Foster as your wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse; in sickness and in health until death do you part?” As he spoke, Preacher Joe Bob gestured for Jake to put the ring on my finger.

  I held out my shaking hand. Keeping his head down, Jake slipped the ring on my finger, and it seemed to me that he was trying his best not to touch me as he did so.

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  “Son,” Preacher Joe Bob said gruffly. “We need an answer.”

  Jake’s head shot up, and a tide of crimson washed over his face. “I do,” he mumbled, looking back down.

  Where was the cocky boy who’d tricked me into his car on that spring morning—a hundred years ago, it seemed now. This boy standing in front of me certainly bore no resemblance to him at all.

  “Do you, Lillian Rae Foster, take Jacob as your lawfully wedded husband…?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and waited through the preacher’s monologue, remembering when I used to “play bride” with Daisy when we were just little girls. I’d known this whole speech by heart.

  “I do,” I whispered when it was time.

  The preacher took our joined hands in his. “I now pronounce you Man and Wife.” His voice rose in a tone of defiance. “Those whom God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” He dropped our hands, and immediately, Jake released mine.

  My body went cold. I felt like I’d been stabbed through the heart.

  “You can go ahead and kiss your bride, Jake,” said Brother Joe Bob.

  I looked at Jake, wondering if he’d humiliate me further by refusing to kiss me. His face seemed redder than before. With his gaze fixed on a point above my hairline, he placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned forward just close enough to brush his mouth against mine. His lips felt like cold marble, not at all like the same lips that had delivered hot, sweet kisses to me throughout the summer.

  As he released me, a youthful voice broke the uneasy silence, “Well, if that ain’t the most pansy-ass kiss I ever did see! Ouch!” Edsel glared at his older brother. “Why’dja hit me for? I was just sayin’ what everbody else is thinking!”

  Daddy turned to Edsel, his shaggy brows lowered in a menacing scowl. “One more remark like that, and I’ll be seeing you in the woodshed, boy. Landry, get him out of here.”

  But my little brother wasn’t one to go without putting up a fight. As Landry grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the front door, the freckle-faced youngster twisted in his grip and shouted, “Ain’t nobody gonna tell Lily Rae how we found Jake Tatlow gassin’ up his car at the Texaco out Liberty way? He was skaddaddlin, Lily Rae! Ouch! Dadburn it, Landry, quit yer hittin’ me!�
� Edsel probed the back of his head where Landry’s wallop had landed. “She’s got a right to know, ain’t she?” he managed to yell before Landry pushed him out on the front porch.

  The door slammed behind them. I looked at Jake, feeling the room tilting around me. He stared down at the floor.

  “Is that true?” I whispered.

  When he didn’t answer, my gaze swept over the others in the room—my mother, my daddy…Aunt Jenny…the preacher…the sheriff, who hadn’t spoken a word but whose very presence seemed ominous. No one spoke. But they were all staring at me—Aunt Jenny and Mother with pity in their eyes. Daddy’s expression was stone-like, as was Burps Dewey’s. Preacher Joe Bob made an attempt to look pious, but I saw the gleam of satisfaction in his beady little eyes. The saintly man of the cloth was enjoying my fall from grace.

  Surprisingly, I took strength from his hypocrisy. My jaw lifted. I fixed my eyes on Jake’s bowed head. I might be a sinner and a tramp, but I wasn’t a hypocrite.

  “The least you can do, Jake Tatlow,” I said in a firm, clear voice, “is give me a truthful answer.”

  Slowly Jake lifted his head. His blue eyes connected with mine, as brilliant as glittering sapphire, and just as hard. “What’s done is done,” he said finally, and then he turned his head, and looked toward the door with a deliberate stare.

  I followed his gaze, and my heart lurched. There, on the floor, rested an old army-green duffle bag stamped with a rank and a name: Private T.L. Tatlow. At one time, apparently, it had belonged to Jake’s older brother, Tully. But now, there was only one reason it was laying there on the floor of our front parlor.

  It had been Jake’s getaway bag.

  ***

  After the ceremony, I returned to my room to pack my meager belongings. I hadn’t been in there two minutes when a knock came at the door. My heart leapt. What now?

  Landry stood there.

  The composure I’d regained crumbled again. “Oh, Landry!” Shame settled over me, and I couldn’t look him in the eye. What he must think of me! “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, gazing miserably down at the floor.

 

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