by Shurr, Lynn
“Do what you must, but don’t be too long. We have to pick up my entire family and cart them to Magnolia Villa before the frozen yogurt runs out, remember?”
“Right. I’m on it.” She headed toward the door.
“Jane, you better put on your robe. I heard a tugboat whistle while you were in the shower. My guess is the bridge is open for a barge, and traffic is backed up at the light. No sense in giving a show unless you charge admission.”
“See, I’m the crazy one, made crazy by you.” She dropped the towel and bundled up in her nightie and robe before taking the stairs as fast as she could and disappearing into the house.
****
“Will this do?” Jane twirled around in her deep red dress, showing off for Merlin. A draped bodice crisscrossed her chest, flattering her breasts but not exposing them. She filled the neckline with an enameled necklace of green holly leaves and red berries purchased from a museum catalog back in the days when she had the money to do that. Never a big fan of ass-hugging dresses, Jane’s skirt flared just above the knees. She’d taken the time to make sure all the ends of her bob turned under and carefully matched her lipstick to her dress color. No red shoes though, her black work pumps would have to do.
“You make me want to stay home and peel you out of that getup, holly berry.”
“And you clean up very nicely yourself.”
He did. The dark suit only made his eyes seem bluer. Wearing the classic white shirt-red power tie combo, he could use the photo to run for public office tomorrow.
“I’ve been told that before, but we don’t have time to fool around right now. Let me give you a boost into the truck. You’ll have to ride in the backseat once we pick up Mom and Harley, Brittney and Jayden. Harley won’t fit back there.” He held the kitchen door open for her and pointed the way.
“I shouldn’t be going along anyhow. Maybe I should just…”
“Get in the truck.”
He helped her in the usual way by swinging her upward, but paused in mid-arc to steal a kiss. Jane believed she might never want to come down, but at last broke it off and used her finger to remove the red lipstick from his smile. He put her down, strapped her in, and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Brace yourself for the full-court press of my family.”
They drove to a trailer park so well-established large oak trees separated the single and doublewides. Harley’s motorcycle sat parked in front of a fairly new double at the very end of a row. Merlin’s stepfather had already blown up the inflatable snowman and Santa Claus, pegged them down on the small patch of brown lawn, and hung blue Christmas lights along the eaves of the trailer. A wreath of plastic holly decorated the door. Merlin barely stopped when a small boy in a red sweater and a cute matching bowtie clipped to the collar of his shirt bolted from the tiny porch and raced to the cab door.
“Nonc Merry! You come to play with me?”
Merlin got down and helicoptered the kid above his head. “That’s Nonc Merlin or Nonc Blackie to you, Blue Jay.” The child around four years of age laughed and flapped his arms like a bird.
“Put him down, Merlin. He’ll pee his pants, and then I’ll have to get him cleaned up again. You have no idea how hard it is to take care of a kid.”
Brittney David made her way carefully down the trailer’s three front steps. A bright red dress wrapped tight as a bandage around her body and matching red satin four-inch heels made the short trip precarious. A web of lined stretch lace across the bodice kept the outfit within a half-inch on the modest side by confining her breasts. Jane had not seen Brittney in anything but her waitress uniform, but somehow the choice of clothes did not surprise her. Evidently, heavy eye makeup was not a Broussard’s Barn job requirement, only something the young woman enjoyed wearing along with siren red lipstick and several cheap gold chains. She flipped her long dark hair with its blonde streaks over her shoulders.
“Give me a boost up, bro,” she said to Merlin.
“If you tell J.J. not to call me Merry.”
“For crying out loud, the family always called you Merry until you started that broody crap in middle school and said to you wanted to go by Blackie—like a horse or a dog.”
“Tell him or split that dress trying to get up there.”
“Okay, okay. J.J., sweetie, you call this mean man Nonc Blackie from now on.”
“Nonc isn’t mean. He’s fun.” Back on his feet, the boy looked up at Merlin with adoration in his Cajun dark puppy eyes and a happy smile on his long, narrow face. His mother had brushed his short black hair into a peak running along the center of his head and gelled it into place in the latest male hairstyle fad.
“I sure am. A million laughs.” With that comment, he cupped his hands around his half-sister’s butt and heaved her into the backseat of the truck. She squealed until she landed.
“Buckle the boy in first. We don’t have enough seat belts back there for all of you. Where’s Mom?”
“Late as usual. I did her makeup, her hair, and laid out her clothes and everything, but still late.”
Jane made her own way into the backseat before Merlin could lay hands on her. She watched horrified when his mother appeared in the same dress, shoes, and makeup as Brittney wore. The only difference in appearance was her heavily sprayed upsweep of hair. At least, Jenny possessed the thinness to wear the gown, but it didn’t flatter her older face. Harley came to her elbow before she tried to totter down the steps. Gallantly, he carried her to the truck, set her inside like precious cargo, and fastened her seatbelt. That left Jane unbuckled since Brittney had seized hers and snapped it shut.
Huffing a little from his exertion, Harley took the shotgun seat next to Merlin. He’d combed his side whiskers and beard to a fine fluff, slicked back the hair on top of his head and tucked his ponytail into the back of his black suit coat. If he also wore a red tie, the beard obscured it. Half turning in his seat, he said, “Nice to see you again, Jane. You meet the rest of my family.”
“Sort of.”
“Yeah, I waited on her and Waldo Robin out at the Barn. I guess he’s looking for his third wife. You must like them long and lean, Jane, but believe me, you are not his type. You don’t look like you could show a man a good time.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Merlin answered, making Jane wish she sat close enough to punch him. “Let’s get this done,” he said in a voice that might have been calling for the start a military mission. He turned over the engine and let it roar them out of the trailer park.
Before they reached the highway taking them to Magnolia Villa, Brittney shook out a cigarette from a pack concealed in the tiny handbag that dangled from her wrist on a thin chain.
“You want one, Mom?”
Jenny nodded and reached out a hand, but Merlin interrupted. “No one smokes in my truck. I don’t want the stink to get in the upholstery. I swear if you light up, Brittney, I’ll leave you by the side of the road.”
In a snit, she crammed the pack back into its cramped space. “I guess that means you don’t smoke, Jane.”
“No, never.” She wished she could move over but her hip welded to Brittney’s in the crowded backseat.
“Didn’t think so. All I ever hear from Granny anymore is how classy Jane is. Jane speaks so nice. Jane dresses like a lady. You should be more like Jane.”
“You should,” Merlin muttered.
“Children,” Harley said with a chuckle. “Now grandchildren are a better deal. Right, J.J.? That stands for Jayden Justin for Justin Bieber, that boy singer.”
“I like the Bieb,” Jenny piped up in her childish voice. “I have a new red dress, Jane, a mother-daughter dress. Brittney picked it out. I like red.”
With a little lump in her throat, Jane answered, “It’s lovely.”
“I told you so,” Brittney shot back at her brother.
He declined to speak again until they arrived at Magnolia Villa nestled among big beds of multicolored pansies and entwined by pleasant walkways paved f
or wheelchairs. Merlin handed each of the women down, only lifting his nephew who took off like a bottle rocket for the main lobby. Jayden backpedaled halfway there.
“They got yogurt here!” he crowed before charging the doors which he could not open until an adult came along, but not for lack of trying.
Olive Tauzin, her walker to one side, sat positioned on a paisley-patterned sofa flanked with potted palms in clear view of the doorway. She wore a red velour pantsuit embroidered with a cheerful montage of cardinals and holly across her fallen chest, her hair in its usual cottony white topknot but trimmed with a crimson ribbon around its base. A young man wearing a dress military uniform held her big-veined hand. The sight of the stranger stopped J.J. in his tracks so suddenly both Jenny and Merlin nearly knocked him down.
“Doyle!” they shouted simultaneously. Merlin let his mother do the hugging and squeezing first as she repeated, “My baby, my baby” over and over, but Jane could tell he itched to embrace his half-brother. Once Jenny let loose, he gave a quick, manly kind of hug and followed it with a solid handshake.
“Get you, kid brother, all slimmed down and grown to be a man. Who let you out of Afghanistan?” Merlin’s blue eyes had a glitter to them close to tears.
Jane surmised Doyle had been a chubby child and most likely resembled the round-faced Harley without all the facial hair. He surely did not bear any likeness to Merlin who towered over the stubby young man. Both had blue eyes but Doyle’s were round, a strangely innocent baby blue like the ones on the biker, but not a hint of danger in them. His lips, full and small, mimicked the ones hidden in Harley’s beard. Jane would have called him baby-faced, but the army had honed Doyle down and brought out his cheek bones. The soldier had medium brown hair shaved down nearly to the scalp, not the very dark brown of the Tauzins, and no sign of a heavy beard. When Doyle smiled, his face lit like a child’s at Christmas, and Jane saw a hint of Jenny in him.
“Aw, Granny wrote my commanding officer and claimed she was dying and need to see her grandson for Christmas one last time. I expected her to be lying in a hospital bed when I got here. She said to come straight to the Villa and not to call anyone when I got in. A person driving this way gave me a ride from the airport.”
Very pleased with herself, Olive Tauzin chirped, “I thought you didn’t like surprises, Merlin. Guess you do now.”
“Yeah, this is great, but are you really sick?”
Olive threw up her withered hands. “At my age, I could go any time, don’t you know?”
Harley worked his way in to give his son a few backslaps and declare how good he looked in his uniform. J.J. still held back until Doyle knelt and said, “Maybe you don’t remember me. You were a tee-tiny baby when I left for training camp. I’m your Uncle Doyle.”
He reached out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair, but Brittney slapped it away. “Don’t you mess up his do before the picture.” She made amends, kissing her brother’s cheek and leaving a large red splotch behind.
“Should I call him Uncle Doyle?” J.J. asked cautiously of his mother.
“Sure, Doyle is just Doyle. He’s not always changing his name and his mood.”
“They got yogurt here,” the boy confided to his uncle.
“Can’t wait to have some and my mother’s cooking. The army doesn’t feed us like she does.”
“Then, you young people run ahead and get a big table before those bridge club bitches take the last one. They think they’re too good to play bouree. Food is great here, Doyle, and I don’t have to cook or clean up. So glad to have you home for a while. Go on, I’ll get there eventually.” Olive waggled her walker into place and hiked herself into position.
They took over a table for eight and got J.J. a booster seat. Small salads already sat at each place along with a glass of water and a second ready for iced tea from a pitcher sweating on the table linen. A large black woman came to take their orders.
“Hi, Melba. Nice to see you again,” Jane said.
“You, too, ma’am. Miss Olive been talking about this get-together all week. Now after y’all eat, we got Milly Olinde set up in the library to take your pictures. The gift certificates were bingo prizes, but Miss Olive done snookered Stella Musemeche out of hers.”
“If Stella wanted it so bad, she shouldn’t have put it on the table. Besides, it’s only good for one eight-by-ten family photo. You know Milly will take a dozen different poses and try to sell you more. What’s for lunch?” Olive asked.
“Being this is Friday, the stuffed tilapia is a good bet. We have the loaded potatoes, a big one as the main dish or a little one on the side. Also got baked chicken legs with a mac and cheese side and a Salisbury steak come with whipped potatoes. The vegetable is green beans. For dessert you got your choice of a sugar-free brownie, apple pie, or the yogurt. Anybody want a cup of seafood gumbo for a starter?”
“I’d like a vat of seafood gumbo,” Doyle replied.
“I’m bringing you a great, big bowl, soldier boy.”
Everyone but Harley and J.J. decided on the tilapia. Harley went with the giant stuffed potato, and Brittney ordered the chicken with mac and cheese for her son who wanted yogurt but had to clean his plate first. She decked the boy out with a large linen napkin tied around his neck. The rest were trusted not to spill. They finally got to dessert after many interruptions by aged veterans who wanted to shake Doyle’s hand and slap Merlin on the back. Old ladies smooched them on the cheeks and left behind their lipstick to the point that the men’s napkins looked blood-stained from wiping it off. Melba served J.J. his yogurt and the guys their apple pie with a topping of the same. All the women went for the sugar-free brownies.
At the end of the meal, Brittney stood and ran a hand down the front of her dress. “Oh, no! My belly is pooching out. We should have gotten the pictures taken first. Mom, is your belly pooching out?”
Jenny regarded her stomach very seriously. “I don’t think so. It only stuck out when I had babies in there.”
Harley put his arms around both women. “Come on, you both look beautiful. Let’s get this picture taken.”
He guided them to the Villa’s tiny library, its shelves filled with old Reader’s Digest condensed books and dog-eared, donated novels. Relieved that Brittney hadn’t upset the plan for the day by refusing to pose with a poochy belly, Jane followed behind appreciating Harley’s value to the family for the first time. He may not have been a hard worker, but he had a soothing, silver tongue amid that bush of beard.
Milly Olinde had her lights set up around a settee in the same muted paisley pattern as the rest of the Villa’s furnishings. Small, quick, and slim in her skinny slacks, Milly dressed all in black from the flats on her feet to her long-sleeved, turtleneck top. Radiating a brilliant professional smile and greeting them like old friends, as they might well be in a town as small as Chapelle, Milly positioned Olive in the center of the settee. She placed the daughter and granddaughter on either side with Jayden sitting cross-legged at their feet. Arranging the men behind them, she made Merlin the center of a pyramid with stocky Doyle and Harley on either side. Jane hung back behind the photographer.
“Don’t forget, Jane,” Olive prompted.
“She’s not family,” Brittney objected.
“I want Jane in my picture. It’s my gift certificate.”
“Look, Brittney is right. I don’t belong in this picture. Why don’t you take it as is?” Jane stepped deeper into the shadows cast by the bright lighting.
Milly raked her fingers through her already spiky blonde hair. “You would throw the balance off. Let me get this shot and think about it.” She pronounced the usual “Say cheese!” and took three quick snaps.
“Okay, I got it. You two ladies—I do swear you look like twins, not mother and daughter—stand on either side of the settee. You, Jane, sit with Miss Olive and sort of center yourselves on the couch. Guys stay where you are.”
She went behind her camera again. Merlin’s hand slipped onto Jane’s shoulde
r and stayed there as Milly blinded them with the flash again and again. “Nice,” the photographer proclaimed. “I got some great shots. Now, how about a few extra poses? Maybe the four generations, granny, mother, daughter, grandson? Or couples. When was the last time you had a picture taken together? How about all these handsome men together?”
“Yes, the four generations. Get up, Jane.” Brittney took her place as Merlin’s hand fell away from her shoulder leaving a warm spot behind.
“I gotta pee.” Jayden wiggled his behind on the floor.
His mother reached down and plunked him on the settee. “Hold it in a few more minutes.”
“I want more yogurt.”
“Hold it, and you’ll have some.”
He did long enough for Milly to get her pictures, but immediately wet his pants as soon as he stood.
“No yogurt for you! You made a spot on Granny’s carpet. Now I must clean you up.”
J.J. sobbed from both humiliation and lack of yogurt as his mother yanked him from the room.
Olive Tauzin leaned forward and shouted after them, “I don’t give a damn. Not my carpet. Let the boy have his yogurt. It’s not like nobody ever wet themselves in this place. Doyle, fetch J.J. some yogurt for when he comes out the bathroom. Have some more yourself.”
Like a man accustomed to taking orders, Doyle left for the yogurt machine.
Unperturbed, Milly said, “Happens all the time when you photograph kids. No big deal. So how about a couples picture? I brought some scenic drops along in case you’re tired of the library setting: sunset, azaleas in bloom, apple blossom time, waterfall, beach.” Milly dragged the frame supporting the drops into place and checked the lighting.
“Sunset, Jane and me and the sunset,” Merlin replied, catching Jane off guard.
“I believe she meant Harley and your mom.”
“Apple blossoms,” Olive said almost dreamily. “If they want one with a sunset, fine, but I think Merlin and Jane should be among the apple blossoms. Then, Harley and Jenny and the azaleas in bloom. Humor me, y’all.”
Milly positioned Jane and Merlin sideways with the blazing sunset behind them and his arms folded around Jane’s waist. “Do I know a couple when I see one? Yes! Now, Jane put your hands over his. Don’t let them dangle at your side. That’s it. Let’s do this one serious. No smiles. Great. Click, click, click, and on to the apple blossoms. Face each other. His hands on your waist. Your hands on his shoulders. Look into each other’s eyes. Good. You two are very photogenic. You’ll want multiple copies of these. Next couple.”