by Ann B. Ross
Mr. Pickens, to his credit, did not want, in the first place, to live off another man’s wealth, and in the second place, he would not consider being supported by a stepson. That commendable mind-set would certainly create problems, because Hazel Marie had become accustomed to benefiting from the Springer estate and, let’s face it, a private investigator’s income would hardly equal the income from the boy’s inheritance.
But it was their problem and I determined to leave it to them to figure out. At the moment, I had more pressing matters to deal with.
“Hazel Marie,” I said, watching as she scooted up in bed and propped herself against the headboard. “We need to think of some way to announce your wedding. In fact, the longer we put it off, the worse it will be, so we need to come up with a plan. Sam has suggested that we have an announcement party, sort of a belated wedding reception, which a lot of people do, especially when they have small family-only weddings, and it’s often done weeks after the honeymoon.”
As the horror on Hazel Marie’s face registered with me, I stopped and held up my hand. “But I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Me, either,” she said. “Oh, Miss Julia, I couldn’t face a big party with everybody looking at me and knowing we had to get married. It would be awful.”
“Oh, I agree. I wouldn’t put you through that for anything. But here’s what I’ve come up with, because one way or another, we’ve got to let people know that you are now Mrs. J. D. Pickens. I mean other than just seeing him come and go, then gradually realizing that he’s moved in for good. And, of course, seeing your condition.”
She began to cloud up then, so she reached for the Kleenex box on the bedside table to have it near to hand.
“Now wait, Hazel Marie. I think I’ve come up with a solution. See what you think about it. Why don’t I have a luncheon and invite eight or ten of our closest friends and just announce it there? I mean,” I quickly added as she began shaking her head, “without your being there. Just think about it for a minute. Every one of those women will go home and tell at least a dozen others and before nightfall everybody in town will know that you two are married. The word will get around without us having a big party and putting you right out in front on display.”
“I don’t know,” she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, in spite of having a handful of Kleenex. “They’ll still know that we, well, kind of jumped the gun. I mean, I can’t hide anymore, so they’re all going to know and they’ll despise me for it.”
“No, they won’t. They might guess but they won’t know, because I’ve thought of that, too. What I’ll do is tell them that you and Mr. Pickens got married in San Francisco when you were there back in the summer, but given the weird goings-on in California, I wasn’t sure that this state has reciprocity and I insisted that you do it again. That would take care of things if anybody gets wind of the ceremony this morning.” I waited a few minutes for her response, but didn’t get one. “What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t have to be there?”
“No, it’d be better if you’re not. See, I can make it like it’s a big joke on us. Maybe tell them that we’d thought of having a—oh, I just thought of something! I’ll say you’d planned to have a renewal of vows and a big reception, maybe at Christmas; but you two got ahead of us and turned up expecting twins, so we had to renew your vows at a magistrate’s office. Just to be on the safe side, see? In case there was any question as to the efficacy of a California wedding. How does that sound?”
Hazel Marie bit her lip, considering what I’d said. “It sounds pretty complicated. I’m not sure it’d work.”
“Doesn’t matter if it would or not.” I waved my hand at the thought. “All we need to do is give them a reasonable explanation, one they can accept without thinking too hard about it, and it’ll work. Everybody thinks the world of you, Hazel Marie, and those who know you or even know of you will give you the benefit of the doubt—if they’re given a good enough reason. And I intend to give them reason enough to believe whatever I tell them.”
“When would you do it?”
“As soon as possible. This week, because we don’t have a minute to lose. You need to be able to get out of this house and go about your business with your head held high. And as a married woman who everybody knows is married, you can do that. I’ll start calling this afternoon. If you agree.”
She leaned her head against her knees, then finally looked up at me. “I don’t know what else to do. But Miss Julia, I am so sorry to put this on you. It’ll be you who’ll have to sit there and tell your friends one big story after another, and all because of me. I just hate that I’ve done this to you.”
“Why, Hazel Marie, I don’t mind a bit. I am so happy to have you married and those babies you’re carrying taken care of that stretching the truth a little is a small price to pay.” I sat for a minute, running over in my mind whom to invite and just exactly how I was going to make the announcement—when the entrée was served or perhaps over dessert?
“There is one other thing, Hazel Marie,” I said, bringing up a more worrisome matter. “You have got to tell Lloyd about the babies. He may already suspect that something’s going on just from looking at you, and remember, he can count as well as the next person. I’ll leave it up to you what you tell him, but he might hear that I’ve told about a San Francisco wedding, so you might want to mention that.”
“Oh, I hate to tell him such a story, but I was planning to tell him about the babies this afternoon, anyway. That was one reason I took a nap, putting it off as long as I could, I guess. J.D. said he’d do it for me, but I think I ought to.”
“I do, too. You and that boy have been so close for so long. He deserves to hear it from you. I’ll send him right in to you as soon as they get back.”
“Ask J.D. to come in, too, if you will. I think,” Hazel Marie said, “maybe it’d be better if we both tell him.”
“I think so, too, Hazel Marie,” I said, agreeing with anything she said just to get the matter taken care of. “It’ll be your first little family conference and a token of things to come. That boy is so thrilled right now at having a real family that he won’t question a thing you say.”
When the men got back from Sam’s house, Mr. Pickens went straight into Hazel Marie’s room with the one suitcase he’d brought from Charlotte, and I sent Lloyd in behind him. I hurriedly and quietly told Sam and Lillian what was taking place, and Sam said he’d recuse himself and go help Latisha denude the rosebushes. Sam frequently lapsed into legal terminology, which got him out of a lot of tight spots because nobody understood what he was saying.
I took myself upstairs, trying to get my mind off what Lloyd’s reaction would be as he was told that his brand-new nuclear family was about to explode into five members. I’d spoken to Lillian about the luncheon and we’d decided that Thursday would be a good day to have it.
“Let’s do chicken à la king,” I had said, “over those little puff pastry shells. And maybe a fruit salad.”
“You gonna need something green,” Lillian had told me. “I might can find some asparagus.”
“Oh, just open a couple of cans of English peas. Nobody’s going to notice what they eat. Not after they hear what I have to say.”
I spent the next hour or so telephoning the people on my invitation list. Because the luncheon was such a spur-of-the-moment affair, several already had plans of one kind or another, but I told them that I had a momentous announcement to make and they should drop everything and come. LuAnne was sure that I was going to announce Francie Pitts’s return, so she assured me she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“I can’t wait to hear what everybody says,” she said with an anticipatory giggle. “They’re going to rake her over the coals.”
I didn’t correct her, simply saying that we’d certainly discuss Francie. Actually, Francie’s return was a godsend for me because, with luck, it would divert attention from Hazel Marie’s hasty nuptials.
A
t the dinner table that evening, Hazel Marie made a gallant effort not only to eat a decent meal, but also to appear content in her new status as a married woman. Mr. Pickens, sitting next to her, kept cutting his eyes in her direction and reaching over to touch her. He even held her hand under the table as we waited for Lillian to serve dessert. Hazel Marie, however, seemed to give him little encouragement, refusing to meet his eyes and concentrating instead on her food. At least, though, she didn’t shrug him off or break down in tears. So that was a good sign.
Lloyd, on the other hand, seemed to be in a daze. He hardly said a word, just sat there playing with his food and gazing off into the distance with a look of starry-eyed wonder on his face. I had no doubt that he was thrilled with the marriage, but how he was handling the news of his incoming siblings was another matter. I think the news of their imminent arrival had left him stunned and unable to comprehend the ramifications—a perfectly normal state of affairs, if you ask me. I’d suffered through the same reaction.
Lillian came in proudly bearing a fresh coconut cake, which she sat in front of me along with a stack of dessert plates. How she’d had time to do all that baking I didn’t know, but she was doing her utmost to make this wedding day a festive one. And so was Latisha, who’d strewn rose petals all around the kitchen. I’d brushed several out of Sam’s hair and later found one in the basket of rolls.
Mr. Pickens took one look at the cake and said, “Lillian, if I wasn’t a married man, I’d come courtin’ you.”
Lillian laughed. “Look like you a day late an’ a dollar short, ’cause you done missed yo’ chance with me.”
Lillian’s pleasure in the day’s events served to release the tension at the table and to divert all of us from thoughts of what this long-awaited wedding should have been like.
Later, not long after supper, when Mr. Pickens went into Hazel Marie’s room and closed the door behind him, I had to scurry around, keeping myself busy in order to do some diverting of my own. Their wedding night! And right under my roof. Of course, their sleeping together was nothing new for them, but it was for me and I had to scramble to keep my mind off it.
On the other hand, I reminded myself as I went upstairs, if Hazel Marie kept to her stated resolve, there would be a wide space in the bed between them tonight and a grouchy Mr. Pickens in the morning.
Chapter 5
Lloyd’s door was open and his lights still on, so I stuck my head in before going to our room. He was sitting up on the bed, still in his shorts and polo shirt—his wedding attire—with his knees bent as he played with something electronic.
“Lloyd?”
He looked up from the cell phone he’d been tapping, his face lighting up with a brilliant smile. “Hey, Miss Julia. Come look at this.” He held out his phone so I could see the tiny screen. “Here’s a picture of Mama, and here’s one of J.D. and this one’s of both of them.”
“Well, my goodness, what won’t they think of next?” I took the phone and looked at the picture of Hazel Marie and Mr. Pickens smiling out at me. “It sure is small, but just as clear as a bell. Show me how to get to the others.”
He did, showing me how easy it was to snap a picture, then to run through the album, so to speak. “You just aim it and press this button. And you’ve got a picture.”
Amazing, and I hadn’t even mastered a throwaway Kodak.
“Guess what else I’m doing,” Lloyd said, and went on before I could. “I’m texting everybody I know to tell them about my new daddy and my new . . . whatever they are.”
Well, I thought, maybe I hadn’t needed to have a luncheon after all. Lloyd would have the word out long before I could announce it. Except no one I knew would recognize a text message if it jumped up and bit them.
I sat on the side of the bed and smiled at him. “So you’re feeling all right about it?”
“Miss Julia,” he said in that serious way of his, “this has been the happiest day of my life.”
“What did you think when they told you about the new babies?” It had crossed my mind that the boy might suffer from suddenly having to share the limelight with two little intruders. He’d been an only for so long, you know.
“Well, at first I couldn’t figure it out,” he said, frowning. “I mean, Mama and J.D. just got married this morning and the day wasn’t even over and here they were saying twins were on the way.” He looked at me, wide-eyed. “All I could think of was ‘Boy, that was fast.’”
My stomach knotted up and a powerful urge gripped my chest, as my face contorted with the effort to contol myself. I had to exert every fiber of my being not to roll on the floor, laughing.
“But then,” Lloyd went on, “when they said they’d really gotten married in San Francisco, I thought, ‘Whew.’ Except I wondered why they hadn’t told anybody. Especially me.”
I didn’t know how to respond, but for his sake I said, “They didn’t tell me, either.”
“You know why they didn’t, don’t you?”
I shook my head, afraid I’d say something different from what he’d been told.
“It was because they felt so bad for doing it when I wasn’t with them.” Lloyd beamed. “They planned to do it all over again anyway when I could be there, but then Mama got sick and first one thing and then another happened and this is the way it worked out.”
“Well, it’s something we can laugh about for years to come, isn’t it?” Actually, I was about to choke already from holding myself back. I had to get to my feet and get out of the room. “It’s been a busy day and tomorrow’s another one. School, you know, so you need to be in bed.”
I hurried across the hall to the room that Sam and I were sharing until Hazel Marie could go up and down stairs again. I quickly closed the door and hurried to our bed, where Sam was reading.
“Sam,” I said, gasping from the laughter that I could at last release, “you’ll never guess what Lloyd thought when they told him about the babies.”
After telling him between ripples of laughter what Lloyd had said, I could finally laugh as long and as hard as I wanted to, so I put my head on Sam’s shoulder and did it until I cried. And kept on crying until I ended up in deep sobs and floods of tears, with Sam murmuring, “Julia, Julia, it’s all right.”
Straightening up and drying my face with the edge of the sheet, I said, “I don’t know what brought that on. I thought I’d strangle myself, trying not to laugh, and here I am crying like a baby.”
“Stress, Julia,” Sam said, running his hand up my arm. “That’s what it is. You’ve been under a lot of it here lately, and now you can let it go. It’s a wonder you’ve been able to bear up.”
“Well, the way I feel now, I could just cry all night and turn into Emma Sue Ledbetter.”
Sam laughed and drew me to him. “Cry all you want to, but stay Julia for me. And listen, we’ve got them married and they’re still with us, with no plans to move off with Lloyd, so you can rest easy now.”
“Yes, well, I guess. I still have to get through the luncheon and all the tall tales I’ll have to tell. But I’ll make a vow to you, Sam, I am not going to get myself in a situation like this again. I have never in my life done so much storytelling as I’ve done during all this. And now,” I said, struggling again to speak as more tears cut loose, “and now I’m wondering if we did the right thing. What if they’re both miserable? What if they should’ve never married? I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve pushed them into something neither of them wanted.”
“Julia,” Sam said, wrapping me in his arms, “you have to stop taking on everybody’s problems. Hazel Marie and Pickens are both adults, and you didn’t push them into anything. They’ve done what is right and, if it doesn’t work out, why, nothing’s been lost and a father to those babies has been gained.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I keep forgetting about those babies, which is the strangest thing. It’s the expecting them that’s worried me, not the two little real people who’ll be coming. That sounds silly, I
know, and I’m as bad as LuAnne, being so concerned about appearances, but I so wanted to protect Hazel Marie and Lloyd.”
“And you have,” Sam said. “Nobody could’ve done more, and they love you for it. And I do, too, but if you keep comparing yourself to Emma Sue and LuAnne, I’m going to have one nightmare after another.”
“Oh, you,” I said, laughing while I untangled myself from his arms and got ready for bed.
Once I was beside him and snuggled up close, I had the strangest recall of certain events in the early days of my first marriage. Not knowing any better, I’d slip closer in the bed to Wesley Lloyd, wanting, I expect, some reassurance that he was happy with me. “Move over, Julia, you’re crowding me,” he’d say. Or “Get on your side of the bed.” It was off-putting, to say the least, and I quickly learned to keep my distance. Learned it too well, if you want to know the truth, for Sam had proved to be just the opposite and I was having to learn all over again the joy of touching the one you loved.
I was almost asleep when Sam said, “Julia?”
“Hmm?”
“Larry Ledbetter dropped by the house this afternoon.” Sam was speaking of his house, probably while Mr. Pickens was packing his suitcase.
“What’d he want?” I mumbled, not particularly interested in a pastoral visit, unusual though it was.
“Wants us to participate in a few study sessions he’s dreamed up. We’ll meet on Monday nights for about six weeks, just to see how it goes. He wants us to provide a stabilizing influence, whatever that means. I said we would.”