by Ross, Ann B
I pursed my mouth at that, thinking that the greater miracle was the fact that she wasn’t in jail for falsely accusing Norma Cantrell.
Then the prosecutor set an almost empty corked bottle on the evidence table. I could see the word “sacramental” on the fancy gold label. The prosecutor shook the bottle, showing us the few dregs of a deep red, suspiciously grape-juice-looking liquid in the bottom of it. “We don’t know where this came from,” the prosecutor said. “But he had almost half a case of it.”
The courtroom spectators, including the judge, erupted in laughter when Emma Sue sprang from her seat and cried out, “That’s the First Presbyterian Church’s nonalcoholic communion wine! I’d recognize it anywhere!”
Eventually, the judge decided to take Binkie’s plea for treatment instead of incarceration under advisement, whatever that meant, and Dixon was to be kept in our local jail until the judge made up his mind. After a deputy took Dixon out in handcuffs and shackles so he couldn’t run again, we waited in the hall for Binkie. When the courtroom emptied and she still hadn’t come out, we went back in to see what was delaying her. We found her crawling around under the defense table looking, she said, for her favorite fountain pen.
“I can’t find it anywhere,” she told us. “And I just had it. It has to be here somewhere.”
Sam and I looked at each other and laughed.
Little Lloyd grinned and said, “I bet I know where it is.”
Binkie got to her feet and started cramming papers in her briefcase. Although done in by the theft, she was undeterred from her mission. “All the more reason to get treatment for him,” she said. But she grumbled to herself as we walked out together.
On our way to her office, she settled down enough to smile at the irony of defending a thief who’d stolen from her. I thought to myself that marriage was having a mellowing effect on her. But on second thought, I decided it might well be due to the hormones stirred up by her expectant state. Already her waistline had thickened to a noticeable degree, a matter of some concern to the prayer chain, I’m sorry to say. Binkie had begun wearing tunic tops to cover the evidence, for all the good they did. I was reminded that she’d chosen a wedding dress with an Empire waist that would allow for expansion. She’d been smart enough to pick a dress with hardly a stitch on top so as to draw attention away from her midsection.
As much as I hated to admit it, it was probably a wise choice. Although I still thought she could’ve chosen something with more coverage for Hazel Marie, since she didn’t have anything to hide.
* * *
“Well, Sam,” I said, as we strolled along the sidewalk after leaving Binkie at her office. Little Lloyd walked on one side of me, playing with one of his Game Boys, while Sam walked on the side by the street, putting me in the middle.
“Well, Julia,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I just realized how pleasant it is to rest up from doing a good deed. I thought I’d be feeling down, what with the exertions of the week and, especially with, you know, the change in a certain person’s living arrangements.” I gave Sam a knowing look and cocked my head toward the boy, not wanting to come right out and refer to my displeasure with Hazel Marie and Mr. Pickens.
“Instead,” I went on, “I find that I have a sense of peace about everything. Maybe I’m finally learning to accept things as they come, and not let myself get all bent out of shape by trying to influence matters. Why, can you believe that, not too long ago, I was thinking of selling my house? That just shows how upset I was, and all because people I cared about weren’t doing what I thought they should do. But now that I’ve gotten Binkie and Coleman married, I’ve learned to just let well enough alone.”
Sam took my hand and squeezed it. Then he smiled down at me and said, “Hard lesson to learn, Julia. Hard for all of us.”
We turned the corner and walked toward Main Street, the three of us enjoying the afternoon, as well as the anticipation of a fountain Coke at the drugstore.
“Yes,” I went on. “I’ve decided to just enjoy life and quit trying to convert everybody to my way of thinking and doing. Of course, we do want to see Hazel Marie and Mr. Pickens follow Binkie and Coleman down the aisle.”
At Sam’s grin, I hurried on. “But that’s up to them. As long as I have my business partner here,” I said, putting a hand on Little Lloyd’s shoulder, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
We walked in silence for a while, nodding at people we passed on the sidewalk. Then, out of the blue, Sam said, “Seems a lot of miracles have taken place, wouldn’t you say?”
“I guess so,” I said, nodding in agreement. “Although the real ones may’ve been those we can’t see.”
“Exactly what I’m talking about, Julia. They give me hope that there’ll be another one real soon.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. Right there on the sidewalk in full view of the public.
Little Lloyd glanced up at this untoward demonstration of emotion, then back down at his toy. “You better watch out, Mr. Sam. Miss Julia says she’s a changed woman these days.”
“Not too changed, I hope,” Sam said, his eyes smiling at me as he turned my hand over and kissed the palm. “I like her the way she is, but I’ll take her any way I can get her.”
“Oh, Sam,” I said, pleased in spite of myself and maybe with a tinge of color on my face. Then I came to myself, aware that a public sidewalk was no place for such intimacies. I freed my hand from his. “Behave yourself,” I said, feeling my face getting hot.
“I will,” he said. “For now. But miracles do happen, so you better watch out. Another one might sweep you off your feet any minute now.”
“Well,” I said, not daring to meet his eyes. I looked away and smiled to myself. “I guess you never know, do you?”