Vivianna was surprised at the lack of pain in her heart—at the sense of liberation in her heart. Still, she felt it was merely for the fact she and Justin had come to a meeting of truth and certainty.
“We do,” she said.
Justin sighed, a sigh of being relieved of some heaviness. “I do love you, Viv,” he told her. “I will have you…and you will be my wife. But only after we choose it now…not because we dreamed of it in letters of the past.”
Vivianna nodded. She was in agreement with him. Yet a certain and frightening doubt was in her mind—a strange sense that all was not as it seemed. Still, she felt lighter of heart—hopeful. All would be well.
She nodded, and he kissed her tenderly on one cheek.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked.
Vivianna shook her head. “No. I’ll just meander awhile longer.”
“All right,” Justin said. He kissed her cheek once more, and Vivianna fancied this kiss was more affecting to her senses than any kiss he’d ever before given her. This kiss spoke of hope—of reward borne of patience.
She watched him stride away. In that moment, Vivianna knew less heartache than she had a moment before—a day before—a month—even a year.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath and relished the feel of the heavy, fragrant air as it veiled her. The sweet perfume of gardenia was everywhere. Savannah’s gardenias had once been the talk of Florence. Folks often said Savannah Turner had a fairy’s touch when it came to growing the tender and rare flowers—and for good reason. It seemed no other body in all of Florence and the surrounding area could nurture gardenias to such brilliance and perfume.
Yet as Vivianna slowly inhaled once more, it was the honeysuckle she sensed—the sweet scent of honeysuckle that breathed its breath into her lungs. Slipping her hand into her skirt pocket, she let her fingers caress the pages of Justin’s letter there. She must return it to its envelope—place it in the box with the others. Justin was right. They each must heal, and Vivianna realized that clinging so desperately to the letter would not help either she or Justin to cast away the ghosts haunting them.
Sighing, she wandered to the arbor. It was, after all, her place of retreat—of privacy. Yet she was somewhat disconcerted when she stepped beneath the honeysuckle vine to find Johnny sitting in the arbor swing. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, and she felt her hands begin to tremble.
“Oh!” he said as he looked up and saw her. “I’m sorry, Vivianna. I’ll let ya be.” He began folding the letter he’d been reading, readying to take his leave.
“Don’t be silly, Johnny,” she said, however. “I’m in mind to have ya keep me company for a spell.”
Taking a seat beside him on the swing, she pressed her toes against the ground and pushed a little. The swing swayed back and forth in the slightest manner that it could without being perfectly still. She watched as he finished folding the letter from his sister and tucked it into the back pocket of his trousers.
“Was her news…was it good news?” Vivianna ventured. “Unless…unless your letter is of a very private nature. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Johnny nodded and smiled. “It was just a letter like any other,” he said. “And it seems everybody’s just fine at home.”
“Are they wantin’ you back then?” Vivianna asked. She felt rather unsettled in what his answer might be—as if she might be terribly despairing if his family did want him to return home.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “As soon as I can find a way to earn a bit, I’ll head back. I don’t want to go home empty-handed though.”
“It might take ya awhile to earn enough for a train ticket. Isn’t that right?” Vivianna asked. “I mean, I certainly hope you’re not plannin’ to walk all the way to Texas. You and Justin have done enough walkin’ by my way of seein’ things.”
“Well, I won’t lie. I would rather ride home than walk it,” he admitted. “Still, I probably should think about leavin’ soon. I need to get on back…and everything here seems fine. I’ve fixed up just about everything I can find to fix, and you and Justin seem on your way to happiness. So I guess he don’t need a roughed-up ol’ guardian angel anymore.”
Vivianna tried to steady her breathing. Yet the thought of Johnny leaving had caused her insides to quiver with trepidation. “Oh, I don’t know,” she told him. “We just now…just a minute ago…we just decided we need a little more time…a little more time to sort our feelin’s out.”
“What?” Johnny exclaimed, a deep frown furrowing his brow suddenly. “Did he tell you that he didn’t…what did he say to you, Vivi?”
“Nothin’ bad, Johnny,” she explained. “Just that…he needs more time. He thinks I need more time too. So much has happened. So much is hauntin’ him…and me, I suppose.” She frowned, lost in her own self-estimation. “Sometimes I feel…I feel almost numb. It wasn’t until today when…” Vivianna smiled and shook her head. Certainly, it was true Johnny’s kiss had affected her. Yet she did not want him to know how thoroughly it had done so. “Anyway,” she continued with a sigh and a toss of her head, “I’m glad for your letter. Letters mean the world when you’re separated from your loved ones.”
“Yes…they do,” he mumbled. “My sister had another baby,” he began. “A boy. She named him after me.”
Vivianna smiled. “How sweet! It’s very flatterin’ to have a baby named after you…or at least I imagine it would be.” She paused and studied him for a moment, causing her breath to quicken, her heart to flutter once more. “I suppose Texas isn’t near as muggy as Alabama…is it?” she asked.
“No,” he said, smiling at her. “But I sure prefer Alabama to Georgia.”
“Well, we do grow the sweetest honeysuckle sugar ya ever did taste,” she said, reaching up and plucking a large blossom from the vine.
She smiled as Johnny frowned when she began to separate the flower to find the sweet nectar within.
“What’re ya doin’?” he asked, obviously completely perplexed.
Vivianna felt her mouth drop open with astonishment. “Johnny Tabor! You do not mean to tell me you’ve never had honeysuckle sugar, do you?”
“No, ma’am. I guess I haven’t,” he admitted with a smile and an amused chuckle.
“Hmm,” Vivianna breathed. “Well, that’s just plum criminal if ya ask me. Here,” she said, pulling the long white thread with its priceless droplet of nectar from the flower. “Open your mouth.”
Johnny’s brow puckered.
“Hurry, Johnny! It’ll drop off before ya get to taste it,” she giggled.
Johnny opened his mouth, more to say something in response than to accept her gift of honeysuckle nectar. Still, Vivianna placed the flower style on his tongue.
She smiled when his eyes widened.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked.
“It’s almost as if…as if it ain’t there. But…but…” he stammered.
“But it’s delicious all the same?” she finished for him.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Vivianna reached out and plucked another blossom. “Here. I’ll show you how to do it.” She pinched the blossom, holding carefully to the tiny green cup at its base. “Ya have to pull the blossom off slow…or you’ll crush the little green nectar cup.”
She smiled as she placed another drop of nectar on Johnny’s tongue. She wanted to kiss him! She did! She simply wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.
“There now,” she said instead. “You try it.” She plucked a blossom for him, giggling as she watched his callused fingers try to hold it carefully.
“I don’t think I can manage it,” he mumbled, frowning as he tried to tenderly disassemble the tiny flower. “You do it for me,” he said once he’d managed to tear the blossom apart without even coming close to harvesting the sweet droplet of nectar it hid.
Vivianna giggled.
“Viv! Viv!” Willy called. “Help me!”
Vivianna gasped as Willy suddenly bur
st into the arbor.
“What’s the matter, Willy?” she asked. It was obvious the boy was upset. She felt her hand reach for Johnny’s arm—visions of another dead man in the woods owning her mind.
“It’s the pollywog puddle! It’s dryin’ up! The little frogs are dryin’ out, and the pollywogs will die if we don’t get them to the pond!” Willy explained, breathless and near to tears. “Justin wouldn’t help us. He said he’s headed into town…and I can’t find Caleb!” He reached out and took hold of Johnny’s arm. “Come on, Johnny! We gotta save the frogs at least!”
Johnny was on his feet even faster than Vivianna was. “I’ll fetch a bucket for the pollywogs, Vivi,” he said. “You start gettin’ those frogs over to the pond.”
Vivianna nodded, her heart warmed by his willingness to help the boys with their task.
“Come on, Viv!” Willy grumbled as he pulled her toward the pollywog puddle. “Ya don’t run near as fast as you used to.”
Vivianna heard Johnny chuckle but kept her attention on Willy.
As they approached the pollywog puddle, it was to see a frantic Nate stuffing handfuls of tiny new frogs into the front pockets of his trousers.
“Come on, Viv!’ Nate called. “Some of ’em are already dead! I knew I should’ve added some water yesterday. Willy and I didn’t check on ’em this morning and—”
“It’s all right, Nate,” Vivianna soothed. “We’ll get the rest of them. It’ll be all right.” Lifting her apron with one hand, she began filling it with tiny frogs with the other. They were already high leapers, but she managed to keep most of them in her apron.
“They’re all dyin’, Viv!” Willy sniffled.
Vivianna paused and placed her free hand on Willy’s shoulder. “We’ll save the rest, Willy. Just help now, all right? Try not to panic. Just help me put as many as you can in my apron.”
Willy nodded and brushed a tear from his eye.
Vivianna understood his pain. Too much death had touched these young boys. They didn’t need to see more, even in the form of pollywogs and frogs.
Johnny arrived with a bucket. Dropping to his knees, he scooped up as many pollywogs as he could and headed to the pond.
“Come on!” he said. “Bring what y’all got so far.”
Vivianna nodded, bunched up her apron, and ran after him toward the pond.
Quickly, Johnny dumped the bucket of dying pollywogs into the large pond. He plunged the bucket into the pond, filling it with water, and then turned and headed back to the puddle. Vivianna shook the small frogs out of her apron into the safe water of the pond and nodded to Nate and Willy.
“Empty out your pockets, boys. Then go back for some more,” she instructed. “We’ll save as many as we can.”
Hurriedly they worked, Vivianna and the boys collecting young frogs, Johnny scooping up handfuls of pollywogs and dropping them into his bucket. Back and forth they went. On their last trip to the puddle, Vivianna’s apron was sopping wet, muddy, and so full of frogs she wondered if she could make it back to the pond with all of them.
“That’s it,” Johnny said, picking up his last bucketful of pollywogs. “Me and Vivi got the last of ’em!” he told Nate and Willy with a smile. “Now, you boys run on home and tell your mama what heroes y’all are. All right? Me and Vivi will make sure they’re all swimmin’ happy. Go on now.”
Willy and Nate nodded, smiled, and ran off toward the house.
Vivianna smiled. She knew Johnny was sending the boys away so that they wouldn’t see how many frogs and pollywogs were floating dead in the water. The fish would eat the dead ones up soon enough, and then Nate and Willy could go on believing every one of their beloved little puddle pets had lived to thrive long and happy in the pond.
Johnny chuckled. Smiling at Vivianna, he said, “Well, come on, Vivi. Let’s finish it up.”
Vivianna giggled and followed as Johnny headed for the pond.
“I’ll dump these out and help you with those,” he said. Quickly he ran ahead of her a ways, dumping the bucketful of pollywogs into their new home.
Vivianna hurried. She could feel her hand slipping—feel her hold on her slimy apron loosening. She was nearly to the water’s edge when she tripped and began to stumble forward.
With a shriek, she tried to keep hold of her apron—tried to pull it up so that she wouldn’t land on her stomach and squish the tiny frogs she was carrying. In an instant, however, she knew it would be impossible—that she must abandoned the safety of the frogs for her own. She released her grip on her apron and squealed again as she saw the multitude of tiny frogs fly up in the air.
She fell forward and bumped into Johnny, knocking him into the pond. Somehow he turned and caught her in his arms, keeping her from falling facefirst into the muddy pond water.
Vivianna gasped for breath as Johnny pushed her back to sit on her seat only a moment before tens upon tens of frogs rained down upon their heads. Vivianna screamed as she felt their sticky feet on her face, her arms—felt them hopping around on her head.
Frantically, she helped Johnny brush them from her shoulders, out of her hair, and from her lap. It was only when she had calmed herself enough to realize that it was only baby frogs hopping around on her person—not snakes or spiders or something far worse—that she looked to Johnny.
Clamping her hand over her mouth, she tried not to laugh. Yet the sight of Johnny covered head to toe in mud and baby frogs was too delightful!
“Are you all right, Vivi?” he asked. The concern on his face was genuine—and great.
“Yes, of course!” Vivianna giggled.
“Are ya certain?” he asked, standing and offering a hand to her. She nodded and continued to giggle as he helped her to her feet. Even the deep furrow on his handsome brow, even the way he grimaced slightly as he picked a small frog from her hair, even for all his serious demeanor, Vivianna could not stop her giggles. He was too handsome—too entirely adorable with mud splattered all over his gorgeous face, two tiny frogs clinging to his hair, three on one shoulder.
“Are you all right?” she asked at last. She reached up and gently removed one of the frogs from his hair. Wrinkling her nose, she tossed it into the pond and then reached for another.
“Me?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face.
“For goodness sake, Johnny,” she giggled. “I near knocked you to Mississippi.” She smiled and brushed the frogs lingering on his shoulders. “And now you’re all muddy, and your pretty clean shirt is a mess.”
Johnny seemed only then to realize he’d fallen too—that he too was covered in mud and frogs. He brushed at the mud on his shirt and then glanced down to the pond.
“I probably smashed half of what we saved,” he mumbled. He ran a hand over the seat of his trousers and looked at it. “I don’t see any legs or nothin’ though.” He brushed his other hand over his seat then—studied it for a moment. “No pollywog tails neither.”
Vivianna clamped a muddy hand over her mouth. She could feel the peals of laughter beginning in her throat, and in a moment more, they broke the air. “Oh, Johnny!” she laughed. “Your face…you’re so serious!” And it was true! He was still frowning, as if he were yet concerned over her.
Suddenly, his expression changed. Almost at once his frown faded, and he smiled—laughed—began to laugh so hard he could hardly draw breath! Vivianna was entirely undone. She folded her arms across her stomach as she bent over with laughing.
“I swear, Johnny Tabor!” she gasped between breaths. “It seems somethin’ or other is always…always…”
“Always…always messin’ on me?” he gasped.
Vivianna nodded as her laughter increased! She couldn’t breathe, and she could see that Johnny couldn’t either. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder as he hung his head in trying to cease the ripples of laughter.
Vivianna pressed her hands to his chest in trying to keep from toppling over with the force of her gasping and giggles. “Pigeons and frogs,” she s
ighed as her laughter began to subside somewhat. “It seems they’re just too jealous of your handsome face to leave you well enough alone!”
Again they each burst into laughter.
“Maybe…maybe they just think my shirts are too pretty,” Johnny sighed, wiping the moisture from his eyes with the shoulder of his shirt—which was the only clean spot left on it.
Again they each burst into laughter. Vivianna could not seem to rein in her giggling. And Johnny certainly couldn’t cork his own hilarity. He sat down hard on the muddy bank of the pond and roared.
“J-Johnny!” Vivianna begged, sitting down beside him. “P-please! I swear…I swear I’m gonna just bust somethin’ if you don’t…if you don’t stop this!”
“Me?” he gasped. “I was…I was only tryin’ to save pollywogs! You’re the one who made it rain frogs!”
“What in tarnation is so funny?”
It was Willy. Vivianna managed to gasp and hold her breath long enough to see that Willy stood nearby, scowling at them like they had no sense at all.
“I swear, Viv. Every time I come to fetch you and Johnny, y’all are laughin’ like nothin’ I ever seen,” the boy scolded.
Johnny drew a deep breath and sighed.
“And why’re ya all muddy?” Will asked. “Y’all get into more mischief than Nate and me.”
Vivianna bit her lip. It was the only way she could restrain the residual giggles still lurking in her throat.
“We stumbled a bit,” Johnny explained.
Willy looked Vivianna up and down. “A bit?” He shook his head. “Anyhow, Mama sent me out to tell y’all thank you for helpin’ me and Nate.” He shrugged. “I guess I’ll just run on back and tell her you’ll be awhile gettin’ back to the house.” He shook his head once more. “Y’all are a mess.” He turned and trotted back toward the house.
Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine Page 17