Julia 03 - Miss Julia Throws a Wedding

by Ross, Ann B

  “Oh, thank goodness,” I said, as Mr. Pickens’s car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street, and Lillian and a short, thin and very ebony man disembarked. “There’s the preacher.”

  “That’s the preacher!” Emma Sue came to a standstill. “Julia, you can’t!”

  “I certainly can and, furthermore, I certainly will. That’s the Reverend Morris Abernathy, and I thank the Lord for him. Now, go on in, Emma Sue, and let me speak to him.”

  Tears flooded her eyes as she looked at me with shock and deep disappointment. “I don’t know that I can be a party to this. What’s Larry going to say?”

  “I don’t care what Larry Ledbetter says. And as far as you being a party to this, do what you want. But I’ll tell you this, Emma Sue, if you start proselytizing those people and creating a disruption to this wedding, I’ll move my letter to the Episcopal church. Then see what happens to the church budget.”

  “Oh, Julia,” she said, her eyes peering at me through a film of tears. “You wouldn’t! Why, Episcopalians’re almost Catholic with all that incense and carrying on.”

  I sucked in a breath between my teeth. “Go in, Emma Sue, or go home, I don’t much care which. Now, excuse me, I have to meet the Reverend Mr. Abernathy.”

  I left her then, and walked over to Mr. Pickens and Lillian. “Mr. Pickens, hurry on in and help Little Lloyd get everybody seated. He’s probably running his little legs off.”

  Mr. Pickens gave me a wink and a small salute. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “On my way.”

  Turning, I said, “Lillian, thank you a million times. I am so relieved to have a qualified minister at last. You run on in; Little Lloyd’s saving you a seat on the front row next to me.”

  I gave her a hug for coming through for me again, then she introduced me to the savior of the wedding. “This here’s the Reverend Morris Abernathy, Miss Julia, an’ he say he happy to be of service to you and the Lord. He gonna get them two married good an’ tight, don’t you worry.” She straightened the veil on her hat, and walked with regal grace in her hot pink silk to take her place among the guests.

  Turning to the not-very-tall man standing beside me, I was somewhat taken aback at his get-up—striped trousers with spats, of all things, and a morning coat with tails almost to his ankles. Yet, in spite of his outdated attire, there was a serenity about him that put my mind at ease. He came barely to my shoulder, and I had to look down on his head of frizzled white hair. His deep brown eyes were milky with age, and his small hand trembled as he held a limp and well-worn Bible.

  “Reverend,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Mrs. Julia Springer, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming at the last minute. You are a lifesaver.”

  A small smile lit up his eyes, as he grasped my hand. “Mrs. Springer, that’s the business I’m in. Now, you just show me where you want me, and I’ll join that young couple in holy matrimony. Let not your heart be troubled any longer. My,” he said, looking around at the dwindling crowd on my front porch and the burgeoning crowd on the sidewalk. “This is a big wedding.”

  “Well, no, not exactly. That crowd over there are here on another matter.”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Lillian was telling me about it. I’d certainly be interested in seeing what they’re seeing.”

  “You won’t see a thing, I promise you.” I took his elbow and turned him toward the house. “But you can look all you want, just as soon as the ceremony’s over. Come this way, Reverend. We’ll sneak through the back. Oh!” I stopped with a sudden piercing thought. “It’s just that it’s easier to get to our makeshift altar through the kitchen and the dining room.”

  His kind eyes crinkled, as he took my hand and patted it. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. Springer. I been goin’ through kitchens for these many years now, an’ it don’t never bother me as long as it lead to the altar of the Lord.”

  Standing there in the midst of confusion on both sides, I put my other hand on top of his, as a sense of peace came over me. “Perhaps we could talk sometime, Reverend Mr. Abernathy. But for now,” I said, leading him toward the side of the house, “we’ve got a wedding to get through.”

  Chapter 35

  As I hurried the Reverend Mr. Abernathy around the side of the house, I heard Hazel Marie bang her hand against the window screen overhead.

  “Miss Julia! Miss Julia!” she hissed, trying to get my attention without alerting half the town. “We need you up here. Binkie’s sick!”

  “Oh, my word,” I said, clutching the Reverend’s arm. “We have to hurry, Reverend. That’s the bride she’s talking about!”

  I hurriedly opened the kitchen door and urged the preacher in. Sam and Coleman stood by the swinging door to the dining room, waiting for the signal to enter. Since I was the one who was supposed to give the signal, they were in for a long wait. Coleman was white around the mouth in spite of his tanned face. He shifted from one foot to the other, as nervous as a cat. I don’t care how much a man wants to marry, when it comes right down to the doing, he’d probably just as soon bypass it. Sam looked as easy as he always did, smiling and assuring Coleman that it would all be over in a few minutes. The caterer’s helpers leaned against the kitchen counters, waiting for the time to serve the food. They were taking a great deal of interest and amusement in Coleman’s pre-wedding jitters.

  I introduced the Reverend Mr. Abernathy to Sam and Coleman, wondering what their reaction would be to the ministerial substitute. Coleman didn’t turn a hair. In fact, he was in such a daze that I don’t think he noticed the difference between the Pastors Petree and Abernathy. Sam surprised me, greeting the minister by name, shaking his hand and asking about his family. But then, Sam knew just about everybody.

  “It’ll be just a few more minutes,” I said, not mentioning the current crisis with Binkie, for fear of distressing Coleman more than he already was. I patted his arm. “The guests are slow getting seated, since they lingered so long outside. Coleman, you need to sit down and rest. Reverend, you come out when Mr. Pickens lets you know the last guest is seated. You’ll know who he is, he’s got an exceptionally full mustache. And, Sam, you bring Coleman out right after Little Lloyd walks me to my seat.”

  “We’ll wait for the high sign, Julia,” Sam said, pulling out a chair for Coleman, as James put a glass of ice water in front of him. “You run on and get started,” Sam went on. “Coleman’s going to be a wreck if we have to wait much longer.”

  As the Reverend Mr. Abernathy suggested a word of prayer, I eased out into the dining room and poked my head around the door to scan the rapidly filling living room. Our guests were arrayed in all their finery, patiently waiting for the long-delayed moment of truth, while Miss Mattie Mae Morgan regaled them with her unique artistry at the piano. Lieutenant Peavey waited by her side for his next rendition. I saw Mr. Pickens escort the sheriff’s wife to a seat on the groom’s side, his black eyes sparkling as he said something he probably shouldn’t have to her. Little Lloyd made me proud as he walked tall and somewhat stiff with Emma Sue Ledbetter on his arm.

  I caught Lillian’s eye and motioned her to follow me upstairs. As she was seated on the front row, everybody noticed her leave. I saw the whispers start behind some hands, and a few smiles as I gathered up my long skirt and we both scurried up the stairs.

  “What’s the matter?” Lillian asked, breathing hard as we reached the top of the stairs. “Is Miss Binkie’s mind changed again?”

  “Lord, let’s hope not,” I said, hurrying toward my room. “No, Hazel Marie said she’s sick, so we’ve got to get her unsick in a hurry. On top of that, Coleman’s downstairs looking ready to throw up, too. Lillian, those two are getting married today, if I have to hold a bucket in front of them.”

  Hazel Marie greeted us as we entered the room. “Oh, Miss Julia, she’s a mess. She’s already thrown up everything, her lunch and all, and now she’s just heaving and heaving. Etta Mae’s trying to help her. She’s a nurse, you know.”

  Well, not exactly,
I thought, but near enough. Lillian headed for the bathroom, where Binkie, still in her robe and bare feet, knelt by the commode. Miss Wiggins stood over her, holding her head.

  Lillian took over, giving her diagnosis immediately. “It’s the excite-ment,” she pronounced, knowing exactly what to do. “She need a cold washrag on her head.”

  “What she needs is a good whipping for getting herself in this condition in the first place,” I mumbled, standing outside the bathroom for fear of a sympathetic response to Binkie’s alimentary spasms.

  Lillian wrung out a washcloth in the sink. “She didn’t do it by herself, so quit fussin’. We got to get her up from here.” But Binkie’s stomach heaved again, and Lillian pressed the washcloth to her forehead.

  “Be careful,” Hazel Marie said, watching as I was from the door. “Don’t mess up her hair.”

  Then Hazel Marie drew me back into the bedroom. “I didn’t want to say anything to the others,” she whispered, “but I think I saw Dixon Hightower again.”

  “No!” I gasped at the thought. “No, Hazel Marie, he couldn’t be that foolish. Not with half the deputies in the county in our living room. Are you sure?”

  “Well-l-l.” She frowned, thinking over what she’d seen. “I guess I’m not. It sure looked like him, though, slithering and scooting through that crowd with nobody but me noticing him. I guess it could’ve been a child.” She didn’t sound too sure about it.

  “Well, I can’t worry about him now.”

  I looked past Hazel Marie to see Miss Wiggins give way to Lillian, who lifted Binkie to her feet. “I’ll get her a cold drink,” Miss Wiggins said, as she headed for the cooler in the corner of the bedroom. “That might help settle her stomach.”

  As Lillian led Binkie to the bed, I said, “Don’t let her lie down. We don’t have time. Binkie, how’re you feeling now?”

  She gave me a weak smile, her face slightly on the green side. “I’m all right. I think. Where’s Coleman?”

  “He’s downstairs with Sam. They’re just waiting on you, as is everybody else. Take some deep breaths, Binkie.”

  She did, then sipped from the icy drink Miss Wiggins held for her.

  “Nibble on this,” Miss Wiggins said, giving her a saltine cracker. “Just nibble, now. No big bites, just enough to put something on your stomach. It’ll stay down, I promise.”

  Binkie, like a little girl, obeyed, biting carefully into the cracker and sipping the cold drink.

  “I’m feeling better,” she said, taking a deep breath and smiling with some assurance.

  “Let’s get her dressed, Hazel Marie,” I said, taking the gown from its hanger. “If her stomach’ll hold off for ten minutes, we’ll have this wedding over and done with. Where’re her shoes?”

  With Binkie still sitting on the bed, Hazel Marie settled the dress over her head, being careful of her hair. Miss Wiggins knelt and put Binkie’s shoes on her feet. As Lillian zipped up the dress, Hazel Marie loaded a brush with enough rouge to bring a healthy color to the face of a corpse. Then she laid on with lipstick and lip gloss until Binkie was ready for public viewing. They helped her to her feet, and she only swayed a little bit.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s get this show on the road. Hazel Marie, don’t you leave Binkie’s side. I want you to be ready to catch her if she stumbles on the stairs. Binkie, pay attention now. You stand right behind Hazel Marie at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as Little Lloyd seats me, Sam and Coleman will come out and stand in front of the arch where the minister will be. Then Hazel Marie’ll come out and walk toward the arch. Slowly, Hazel Marie, remember that. When you get there, Miss Morgan will strike up the wedding march and that’s when you come out, Binkie. Walk right up, but real slowly, and stand beside Coleman. Everybody clear on what they’re supposed to do?”

  They all nodded, then Binkie asked, “What if I get sick again?”

  “You’re not going to get sick again,” I assured her, and if willpower had anything to do with it, she wouldn’t. “But if you do, there’s a big vase of flowers by the arch. Just lean over and throw up. But you stay right there until you’ve said your vows. The Reverend Mr. Abernathy’ll understand. Oh, by the way, don’t be surprised at the last-minute change of ministers; the one we have is better qualified than the one you’re expecting. Now, Hazel Marie, give us five minutes to get around the house and into the living room. Oh, and don’t forget your bouquets; be sure Binkie has hers.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hazel Marie said, her eyes already on her watch. “I’ll look after her and get her down there on time.”

  Miss Wiggins, Lillian and I hurried down the back stairs, coming out into the kitchen to the surprised faces of Sam and Coleman. The Reverend Mr. Abernathy remained unperturbed, probably because he’d officiated at so many weddings, nothing surprised him anymore.

  As the three of us rushed out the back door, I called, “As soon as we’re all seated, Sam, get Coleman out there.”

  Lifting my skirt, I ran after Lillian and Miss Wiggins, turning the corner of the porch to the amazed stares of the mob of people who were momentarily distracted from the object of their worship.

  Breathing hard, we climbed the steps to the porch where Mr. Pickens and Little Lloyd waited for us. Everyone else had been seated, and the rustle from inside the house let us know they were getting restless.

  “What’s the holdup?” Mr. Pickens said, a smile lurking around the corners of that bushy mustache. “You have trouble getting dressed, Miss Julia?”

  “No, I did not. But there’s been plenty of trouble, which you don’t need to know about. Mr. Pickens, we don’t have time for your foolishness. Now take Miss Wiggins down the aisle and get back out here for Lillian as quick as you can, then Little Lloyd will escort me.”

  “Ah, one little question,” Mr. Pickens said, lifting one eyebrow. “Do you know who’s standing in the arch, looking for all the world like a man of the cloth?”

  “He is a man of the cloth. That’s the Reverend Mr. Abernathy, and don’t you say one word, Mr. Pickens,” I said. Then, looking him straight in the eye, I went on. “Just do your job and let him do his. Now, as soon as I’m in my seat, give Sam the signal to get Coleman out there. Escort Miss Wiggins in now, and step lively.”

  Anxiety knotted up my stomach until I began to fear that I’d have Binkie’s problem, but with a lot less cause for it. I wrung my hands as Mr. Pickens and Miss Wiggins entered the house. He was on his best behavior, holding his arm in the correct manner for Miss Wiggins to cling to. Which she did, smiling brightly.

  “It all goin’ now,” Lillian said, patting my back. “You don’t need to worry no more. You jus’ walk in there an’ take yo’ place like they not a flustration on yo’ mind. Hear me, now.”

  “I hear you, Lillian, and thank you. If we can just get through the next few minutes without a catastrophe, I won’t ask the Lord for another thing. I’ll even sign back up for the prayer chain.”

  Little Lloyd grinned behind his hand, as Mr. Pickens returned and held the screen door for Lillian. “Let’s go, Miss Lillian,” he said, crooking his arm. “I’ve already escorted you down once, but it’s my pleasure to do it again.”

  Lillian’s face glowed as she accompanied him on her second march down the aisle. Little Lloyd and I were left alone on the porch, well, except for the surging crowd on the sidewalk that couldn’t decide which was of more interest—us or the lady on the wall. I squeezed his shoulder. “Won’t be long now,” I said. “At least, let’s hope it won’t.”

  Mr. Pickens opened the screen door, smiling at us. “Ready, Miss Julia?” he said. “Last call.”

  He gave Little Lloyd a pat on the back, as the boy held his arm in the approved manner for me to take. We stood in the doorway a moment as I gathered myself, then we walked sedately down the aisle toward our seats and the beatific presence of the Reverend Mr. Abernathy in the flower-filled arch.

  Chapter 36

  I straightened the folds of my dress and breathed de
eply as I settled into my seat beside Little Lloyd. Lillian reached across him and patted my hand. Seeing the Reverend Mr. Abernathy’s complacent smile as he faced his audience reassured me that the service was in good hands. There was nothing else I could do now.

  A brief silence descended as Miss Mattie Mae Morgan changed her sheet music and nodded to Lieutenant Peavey. He stood to his full height and filled his impressive chest. Then, as she began the music, he commenced to hit notes that I’d never imagined him, or anybody of his gender, capable of, from the extremely high tones to a breathy whisper. He sang about somebody’s wedding day, which I thought most appropriate, if he could’ve managed it in a normal range and without an excess of quavery high notes.

  Little Lloyd leaned over, his eyes big with wonder, and whispered, “He sounds just like Barry.”

  “Who?” I whispered back.

  “You know. Barry, with the Bee Gees. That’s a Bee Gees song, too.”

  “You don’t say,” I said under my breath, feeling a rush of chills run across my back as Lieutenant Peavey sang most movingly of husband and wife being taken to heaven. I wasn’t sure the song was all that spiritual, but the sound of it was so sweet that, I declare, my heart clenched up on me.

  Then, as Lieutenant Peavey ended on a tremulous whisper, Coleman and Sam emerged from the kitchen and made their way down the improvised aisle that wound through the seated guests. Coleman looked remarkably improved, now that the moment was at hand. He walked with confidence, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, to the arch, then turned to face us with Sam at his side. As tears started in my eyes, I saw the Reverend Mr. Abernathy rise up on his tiptoes and whisper some encouraging words to the groom. Coleman clasped his hands in front of him, nodded and relaxed his shoulders. Sam beamed with pleasure, having accomplished the important job of getting the groom where he was supposed to be. He turned his head slightly toward me, and winked.