Wedding Belles

by Janice Hanna

  “You make them sound like elk, Mama.”

  “You know what I mean. Everywhere you turn, there’s another one. They’ve interrupted our quiet little town.”

  “But that was the idea. Estes Park has always been open to folks coming in from the outside. That’s how most of our people make their living, catering to tourists and such.”

  “These ladies aren’t tourists, Lottie.” The pitch of her mother’s voice elevated. “They’re not here to contribute to the welfare of our community. That, I can assure you.”

  “Well, of course they are. They’ve come all this way just to make our little melodrama successful. That has to say something. And the ones I’ve taken the time to get to know are really great women, Mama. I think you would like them—especially some of the gals like Cornelia and Margaret—if you spent time talking to them.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll be getting to know the sort of women you’ve brought here this morning,” her mother said. “And none of the other ladies in town are keen on the idea, either.”

  “But Mama…” Lottie felt a lump rise in her throat, which made conversation difficult. “That’s—that’s just silly.”

  “Not as silly as you think, Lottie. Folks are riled up.”

  “Why?” Now she managed to speak in spite of the lump. “What reason do they give for making such a fuss? What in the world have these new ladies done to create such a stir, after all?”

  Her mother gestured to Shayla. “For one thing, it’s how some of them dress. I’m all for finery, but the dress that one is wearing is entirely too revealing.”

  “I did notice that, of course.” Lottie felt her face turn hot. “But, Mama, she knows no other way. She needs guidance.”

  “Guidance, my eye. She needs a good swift kick in the backside.”

  Before Lottie could respond, Althea Baker joined them, her face red.

  “Did you see that one in the gray dress?” she whispered. She had the nerve to show her legs just now.”

  “Prudy?” Lottie could hardly believe this. Truly, there could only be one logical explanation. “She stepped into a mud puddle during our excursion up the mountain yesterday,” she explained. “I’m sure she was just trying to share the story of how she got soaked in mud. That’s all. Trust me, she would be the last person to deliberately try to entice men.” Why, the very idea was preposterous.

  Lottie’s mother fanned herself. “Say what you will, a proper woman doesn’t show her ankles in public, particularly in front of men. And I shudder to think of what went on up on the mountain yesterday, what with all those men and women traveling together unchaperoned.”

  “Unchaperoned?” Lottie bit back a laugh. “Mama, there were sixteen of us altogether. We traveled in a group.”

  “Humph.”

  “Mama…” Lottie’s temper flared and she felt the heat set her ears aflame. “I have a difficult time understanding your treatment of these women. Aren’t you the one who’s always saying we should treat others the way we want to be treated?”

  “Well, of course, but—”

  “And as for the lipstick and such, plenty of women in Estes Park—you included—wear a bit of lipstick or rouge. I’ve never heard you complain about it before.”

  “All things in moderation, Lottie.” Her mother continued to fan herself. “You can’t tell me that you believe the amount of rouge on that one woman’s face is acceptable. She’s—she’s painted herself so that the men will take notice. And they’re taking notice, all right.”

  She spoke of Cherry, of course. No one could deny that the woman wore too much lipstick and rouge. But to point out such a thing right here on the church lawn? Why?

  “I’m just saying, you’re always telling me you want me to dress like a lady,” Lottie said. “To put on dresses and such. I would think you’d be happy, Mama. I’m surrounded by fine ladies on every side. I’ve grown to care for them, and they for me.”

  “These women are anything but fine. They are what the Bible refers to as worldly.”

  “Worldly?” Lottie shook her head. “Now I’m really confused. Didn’t you send Winifred off to Denver to experience the world? Wasn’t that the sole purpose?”

  “The Bible teaches us that there’s a difference between being in the world and of the world,” Mama said. “These women you brought to our fair town are of the world, not just in it.”

  “But, Mama, that’s hardly a fair judgment call on your part. You don’t even know them. You haven’t given them a chance.”

  “I know everything I need to know. Did you see that one woman with the red dress?”

  “Patricia?”

  “Heavens, I don’t know her name, and I don’t care to. She was sidling up next to the mayor before church, making herself at home. His wife told me all about it during the opening hymn, and she wasn’t smiling at the time, trust me. Women around here don’t like the idea that female strangers are encroaching on their men.”

  “Encroaching? You make them sound like hunters.”

  “If the shoe fits.” Her mother fussed with her belt. “Many are on the prowl even now.”

  Lottie felt her face grow warm again. “Patricia dropped her fan, and he reached to pick it up for her. I saw the whole thing.”

  “Likely she dropped the fan on purpose to get him to lean down and fetch it for her so that she could show off her—her…well, never mind all that. The whole thing was simply disgusting. Nelda Hennessey told me all about it. And what in the world was wrong with that one girl during the sermon? The one with the brown hair? I actually heard her crying. Crying. For everyone to hear.”

  “She was moved by the sermon, Mama.”

  “Moved? More likely she was coming under condemnation after hearing Reverend Brighton’s message. Anyone with the decency to come to church needs to behave appropriately. You don’t see me crying in church, do you?”

  “No.” Lottie sighed. Me either. Though, I’m about to, if you don’t stop this right now. “Mama, I happen to know that Cornelia has been moved by the scenery on the mountain. God is using it to draw her to the faith she had as a child.”

  “I find it shocking that she’s how old?—twenty-five, at least— and hasn’t been to church since she was a child. That just tells you what kind of people we’re dealing with here, Lottie.”

  “You can’t blame them for that, Mama. Most of them weren’t raised in church. They have no idea how to behave.”

  “What sort of person doesn’t know how to behave in the house of the Lord?” Her mother crossed her arms.

  “I’ll tell you what kind.” Althea Baker said. “A heathen. That’s what you’ve brought to town for this theatrical of yours, Lottie. Heathen women.”

  Another rush of anger swept over Lottie. “No.” She spoke with a trembling voice. “They’re just wonderful women—loved by God—who don’t understand the process of churchgoing.”

  Off in the distance, several of the ladies began to sing Amazing Grace. Lottie found it ironic, at best. Thank goodness they had no idea they were currently the topic of conversation. Otherwise they might’ve chosen a different song.

  Mrs. Parker joined them at that very moment, her face lit with a smile. “That singing does a body good. Those sweet girls are such a blessing, aren’t they? We’re just so tickled to have them here.”

  Lottie’s mother grumbled something under her breath.

  “As I said, I’ve found them to be pure delight.” Mrs. Parker’s grin spoke of her feelings on the matter. “I’ve had such a wonderful time, getting to know them. And how fun to see all of them in church. What better place to share the love of the Lord?” Her eyes misted over and she dabbed at them with the back of her hand. “Sorry about that. I’m getting to be so emotional in my old age. But isn’t it wonderful, seeing them seated together where they can hear the hymns and listen to a solid Bible lesson, one they’re sure to remember for the rest of their days? What a blessing.”

  Althea shifted her position and placed her
hands on her hips. “More like a curse.”

  Mrs. Parker’s countenance changed at once. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

  “You know perfectly well what I mean, Penelope. Those girls have been sent here by the enemy to stir up trouble, just like Bathsheba was sent by the enemy to tempt King David.”

  “Actually, Bathsheba was minding her own business when David lusted after her,” Mrs. Parker said. “So she certainly can’t be blamed for his sin. And I can’t imagine you—a wonderful, godly woman—would believe that these ladies are anything but a gift to our little community. Why, they’re God’s response to our prayers to save the lodge.”

  “You watch and see.” Althea’s eyes narrowed to slits. “They will bring division. The people will take sides for or against them.”

  Mrs. Parker looked stunned. “What sort of person could possibly take sides against them? Whatever have they done to deserve that?”

  “I’ll tell you what they’ve done.” Althea proceeded to give Mrs. Parker a lengthy list. Lottie did her best to ignore the sarcasm in her voice.

  When she ended, Mrs. Parker walked away, speechless.

  Lottie’s mother tugged on Lottie’s shirtsleeve. “Lottie-Lou, don’t dillydally. I’ve prepared lunch at home. I expect you to join us for a change.”

  “I have to hang the cast list on the door, Mama,” she said. “We promised it would go up at noon, and it’s only eleven-fifty. I have to wait until noon to post it, so please go on without me.”

  “Well, you do what you need to do. Althea and I have much to discuss before our meeting with the Women’s League tomorrow.”

  “O–oh?”

  “Yes.” Mama clucked her tongue as she watched Fanny and Jeb Otis talking. “Indeed. We local women will need to band together to accomplish our goal, I believe.” She muttered something under her breath then turned to resume her conversation with Althea.

  With her nerves leading the way, Lottie walked toward the door of the church.

  Mrs. Parker joined her in short order. “What in the world do you make of that?”

  “They’re opposed to the women coming to church.” Lottie shook her head. “I can’t make sense of it, to be honest. I thought the local folks would be thrilled to see the women in church, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Well, if that doesn’t beat all.”

  Seconds later, the women gathered around Lottie, most somber in appearance. She longed to say something encouraging but couldn’t think of the right words.

  Cherry sighed. “Lottie, I know your heart was in the right place, inviting us to your church and all—”

  “But I don’t believe any of us want to come back.” This comment came from Prudy, who stood nearby with tears in her eyes. “You won’t believe what a couple of the women said to me. And I was just trying to share the story of what happened to me up on the mountain yesterday.”

  “And you should’ve seen the look the mayor’s wife gave me earlier.” Patricia shivered. “All because I dropped my fan.”

  Lottie did her best not to sigh aloud. “I’m so sorry, ladies. I have no idea what happened here.”

  “What happened is that a bunch of holier-than-thou women made some assumptions about me,” Patricia said. “About us. And they’re not going to rest until they’ve either remodeled us or driven us out of town on a rail.”

  “Well, I certainly don’t think it’s that bad,” Lottie said. “Honestly, I’m sure it can all be ironed out.”

  She tried to lace her words with confidence, but they came out shaky just the same. In fact, everything about today made her quiver. If this morning’s church service was any indication of things to come, she’d be better off staying in bed with the covers pulled over her head.

  * * * * *

  GILBERT LISTENED FROM A SAFE distance as Lottie’s mother ranted and raved. He could hardly believe the venom she spewed. He’d just about worked up the courage to approach her when his mother came up beside him.

  “It’s not worth it, son,” she whispered.

  He turned to face her, his hands trembling. “You heard them.”

  “Yes.” She put her hand on her chest. “And frankly, I’m stunned. I knew that some of the women would be put off by a couple of the ladies, mostly Sharla and Patricia. Their dresses are a little, well, you know. But I figured the women of Estes Park were kindhearted enough and would keep in mind the Bible story the reverend used in his sermon today.”

  “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” Gilbert said through clenched teeth.

  “In this case, it would be ‘Let her who is without sin,’ but that just proves the point, doesn’t it?” his mother said. “None of us is without sin. And I daresay, the anger we’re feeling right now could lead to sinfulness on our part if we’re not careful.”

  “Right now I don’t want to be careful.” Gilbert released a sigh, and part of his anger went with it. “But I will be. It’s the right thing to do. Lord, help me guard my anger.”

  “He will help you, son.” His mother patted his arm. “And in the meantime, you and Lottie have a lot to do. It’s noon, you know.”

  “It is?” The church bells rang as if to answer his question, and he headed Lottie’s way, a smile plastered on his face. No point in letting her know how upset he was. Not when they had so much left to do.

  Moments later the two of them posted the cast list on the door of the church. Dozens of folks gathered around to see who got which part. The women edged their way to the front, Fanny leading the pack.

  “What a madhouse,” she hollered out above the crowd of would-be cast members.

  A madhouse, indeed. Once the locals got involved, a group of nearly forty people pressed in to see the list. Some cheered, others just appeared a bit dazed. Gilbert looked on, a little overwhelmed.

  “I’ve never even heard of half these character names, Lottie,” Cornelia said. “Flossie must’ve changed the script completely.”

  Lottie’s confident smile lifted Gilbert’s spirits. “Yes, completely,” she said. “But trust me when I say that Flossie and I came up with the perfect plan, and you’re all in exactly the right parts.”

  “Still…” Cornelia’s brow wrinkled. “I’m playing the part of Paige Turner?”

  “And I’m Miss Bea Haven?” Cherry laughed. “Appropriate. All my life I’ve been accused of that very thing.”

  Gilbert kept his mouth shut. In light of what Lottie’s mother had shared earlier, the folks in town saw Cherry as a loose woman. Perhaps giving her the part of Miss Bea Haven hadn’t been the best idea on Lottie’s part.

  “I like my character’s name too,” Grace said. “And I’m so glad that you noted it’s a dancing role. I can hardly wait.”

  “I can’t believe I got the part of Miss Information,” Hannah said and then laughed. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

  “I think you’ll enjoy that part,” Lottie said. “Miss Information is always confused and passing on the incorrect information to people. It’s a comedic role.”

  “I’m so glad you didn’t give me a funny part,” Prudy said, her voice low. “I prefer a small part like Shirley Knott.”

  “Oh, it’s not a small part at all,” Lottie explained. “In fact, Shirley Knott holds the key to solving the mystery in the show, so you’ll play an important role.” She turned to face the group. “You all will. It’s going to be wonderful.”

  “So, let’s see…” Margaret read the cast list aloud. “Grace is Jenna Rossity; Fanny is playing Alice Well. Jeb Otis is Abel N. Willin. I’m playing Penny Less. Sharla is Sarah Bellam, Patricia is Ellie Gant, Flossie is Sadie Word. Augie is Earl E. Bird, Chauncy is Hugh Dunnit, and Gilbert is Justin Credible.” She listed the other character names, including the parts to be played by several of the local children and their parents.

  Gilbert nodded, though he argued internally over Lottie’s decision to put him in one of the larger roles. Still, what could he do about it now but play along?

  And so
, with the cast decided, there was only one thing left to do—get rehearsals under way and pray that the Women’s League didn’t butt their noses in where they didn’t belong. With his heart in his throat, Gilbert decided that forging ahead was really their only solution.

  TEN

  A SITUATION AT THE STANLEY

  Oscar Wilde once said that life imitates art. In an ironic twist of fate, we at Parker Lodge have witnessed this firsthand. Even as we prepare to dive into our first rehearsal, we’ve seen heroes and villains emerging, and not just the sort one might find on the stage. How will our story end? Well, stay tuned to find out! One thing is sure and certain— without a villain, the hero has nothing to overcome! And so we forge ahead, ready to prove that right overcomes might, David really does defeat Goliath, and a passel of females—out-of-towners, no less—truly have the interest of Estes Park at heart. Will you join us in our quest to right injustice, both onstage and off? —Your friends at Parker Lodge

  ON MONDAY MORNING Lottie paced the lobby of Parker Lodge, her thoughts in a whirlwind. She turned to face Gilbert, her heart in her throat. “What can be done?”

  “I don’t know.” Gil stopped his work of fixing the broken windowsill and faced her. “Are you absolutely sure you heard right? There’s no doubt in your mind?”

  “Oh, I heard right. Mama said the Women’s League would be meeting at the restaurant in the Stanley Hotel at noon today to put an end to our theatrical once and for all.” She took a strand of hair between her fingers and began to wind it around until it caused pain.

  “But why? I just don’t understand.”

  She could hardly stand the thought of sharing what she’d heard through Mama, but she had no choice. “Gil, brace yourself. I dread telling you what folks are saying, but you must know.”

  “I can take it. Just tell me.”

  “They’re saying…” She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. “They’re saying that Parker Lodge has turned into a—a…” She couldn’t say the word.