Sweet Carolina Morning

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Sweet Carolina Morning Page 13

by Susan Schild


  CHAPTER 10

  The Wary Bride

  The next day Linny sipped a cup of coffee and leaned against a wall outside the security area at Raleigh-Durham International, waiting for her mama, Dessie, and Ruby to arrive home after their two-week cruise. Glancing at the flight information board, she saw that their plane from Tampa was at the gate and passengers were disembarking. Taking a creamy sip of coffee, she sighed happily. She’d really missed Mama: her loopy logic, her pithy insights, and the constancy of her love. Linny thought about it. When Buck had died and his creepy business partners had booted her from her own home, she’d hated the idea of moving a quarter mile down the road from her mama and living in her run-down rental property: the aqua trailer. Now, she was cozy in her rehabbed trailer with the heart pine floors and liked being able to run down to Mama’s for a cup of coffee or to watch movies with her like Bringing Up Baby or The Thin Man on Turner Classic Movies. Over the past year, Linny had learned that she and her mama had far more in common than she had ever imagined, including having married men with wandering eyes and coming through that experience even stronger.

  Craning her neck to get a better look at the passengers streaming down the escalator, she spied the three women. Waving her arm, she broke into a smile. Unlike some of the other wilted-looking travelers, Dottie and her two best friends looked tanned and bright-eyed as they chuckled over some joke one of them had made. Mama caught Linny’s eye and beamed. Grinning, Linny stepped over to her, circled her in a hug, and felt a sense of comfort, of home. A moment later Linny reached over and pulled Dottie’s two smiling girlfriends in for a group hug.

  After stopping at the Good Golly Miss Molly Sub Shop to pick up sandwiches for the travelers, Linny pulled in the driveway at Mama’s brick ranch. After unloading luggage and leaving it under the carport, they all moved into the living room to chat and eat. “I want to hear all about your trip,” Linny said as she pulled sandwiches from the bag and passed them to their owners.

  But Mama was too busy with a reunion to talk. She sat in her recliner, barely visible under Curtis, the mountain draped on her lap and across the arms of her chair. The dog groaned with pleasure as she scratched behind his ears. She cooed, “I hear you’ve been a good boy while I’ve been gone, pudding. Mama’s very proud of you. I missed you every minute of every day.”

  Her mother’s friends sat on the sofa and munched their sandwiches as they chattered to Linny.

  Ruby marveled, “We saw stingrays, toured a rice plantation, went on a glass-bottomed submarine. . . .”

  “They had a real circus show with clowns in cars and stilt walkers right on the ship. They were flying through the air on trapezes right outside our room,” Dessie said and popped a potato chip in her mouth.

  “They had an Elvis tribute night and the fellows all looked just like the King. So hunky.” Ruby’s eyes twinkled. “I twisted the night away. My hips were sore the next day.”

  Her mother’s arm snaked out from under Curtis, felt around the end table for her iced tea, pulled it under the dog’s chest, and took a noisy slurp. In a muffled voice, she added, “They had all you-can-eat shrimp and king crab legs. I had two lobsters on Lobster Night.”

  Ruby paused in midbite, looking worried. “Hope it didn’t ruin us for the K & W.”

  Linny smiled. “I doubt that.” Taking a bite of her turkey sub, she chewed it and tried to sound casual. “I heard there was some romance cooking on this cruise, too.”

  “Oh, there was. Captain Sven was a dreamboat and we had a strong chemistry, but it wasn’t meant to be.” Ruby heaved a breath dramatically. “His love and his lady are the sea.”

  Dessie rolled her eyes at Linny, and Mama harrumphed as she gently shoved Curtis from her lap. The dog sat at her feet, resting his massive head on Dottie’s lap. She gazed in his eyes as she stroked him. “You’re my sugar booger.”

  “How about the junkman?” Linny asked Dessie.

  “Perry, and it’s officially called a salvage metal business. He’s sweet, and a real snappy dresser with all his different fedoras.” Dessie smiled, looking years younger than her age, and thrilled. “He’s so good-looking, too. He’s older than I am but he looks just like the hunk driving the Mustang convertible in the Cialis commercials.”

  Linny took a big bite, nodding. That Cialis guy was hot.

  Dessie swallowed a bite of sandwich and went on. “We’ll see each other again. He lives in South Carolina, so it will be a long-distance deal, but I think we can work it out.”

  Ruby fluted, “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  Linny nodded thoughtfully and gazed at her mama. “Now, how about Thurston Howell the Third, aka Mack?”

  Dottie smiled serenely. “He’s a lovely man. A widower.”

  Linny gave a little shiver, remembering the man who’d smothered his eight wives. “Did his wife die in her sleep?”

  Her mother brows furrowed. “No, she passed in a tragic bridge accident.”

  Cut brake lines? A steering cable that had been monkeyed around with? Linny tried to look doleful as she chewed her barbecue chip but had to ask, “So she drove off a bridge?”

  Dottie’s brows flew up. “Gracious, no. She was playing bridge and had an aneurysm. Dropped dead, and right in the middle of a good hand. Fell off the chair.” She shifted her weight to one side of the recliner to demonstrate.

  “Gosh.” Linny paused to consider that information and doggedly continued. “And he never remarried?” Like seven more times, she edited.

  “No.” Dottie shot her a reproving look. “It was only two years ago.”

  Dessie raised an eyebrow, but Linny had a few more investigative journalist type questions. “So he lives outside of Raleigh?”

  “Yes, but he’s on the Ecstasy,” her mother said blithely.

  Linny’s iced tea went down the wrong way and she sputtered and coughed. “Ecstasy?”

  Dottie gave her a concerned look until Linny’s coughing subsided and then went on. “He’s got another dance instructor job on another ship, The Ecstasy of the Sea. He’ll work on that cruise and be home next week.”

  “Oh, good,” Linny said, trying to muster up enthusiasm.

  Ruby swallowed her last bite of sub and urged Dottie, “Tell her about the big win and how it happened. It was so thrilling!”

  “So thrilling!” Dottie agreed, clasping her hands together. “Mack and I put ten dollars apiece into a joint kitty for gambling each night the casino was open. I thought that was too much. You know I don’t like to waste money, but the girls said I should live a little.” She looked to her two friends for validation and they nodded encouragingly. “Anyway, it was the last nickel of the night before we went to see the high-diving Chinese acrobats, and I dropped it in and the bells rang and the lights flashed. Turns out we won.” Dottie shook her head. Unwrapping a chocolate chip cookie, she took a too-big bite, and chewed, looking thoughtful. “They don’t give you your winnings all in nickels, you know. I always wondered about that. It’d be hard to carry all that silver home.”

  “That makes sense,” Linny said, listening hard for her to let slip in an unsavory detail about Mack. “So you two split the winnings?”

  “Fifty-fifty. Right down the middle. I have the certified check right here.” She patted the purse she had wedged in beside her on the recliner. “When Mack comes home, we’re going to talk about the smartest way to invest it. He’s good at that. Even gets Money magazine.”

  Linny felt her blood pound in her head. Her own late husband had told her he was good at investing, too. She’d been so fatuously trusting when he’d said, Let me handle the finances. Don’t you worry your pretty head. Never again would she be stupid enough to cede control of her money to a man, ever. Careful to sound neutral, Linny said, “Gosh, two hundred fifty thousand is a tidy windfall for a dance instructor.”

  Her mother shot her a reproving look. “Mack’s not just a dance instructor. He’s retired from . . . something.”

  Hopefu
lly, not from flimflamming or wife smothering. “Oh?” Linny said encouragingly.

  “I think he worked in a gas station,” she said vaguely. Business never interested Dottie.

  Linny tried to backpedal and said too heartily, “He sounds nice.”

  Dessie balled up her empty lunch wrapper and rose. “Girls, it’s been a heavenly trip, but I need to toddle on home.”

  Ruby stretched and stood. “Whew. Long travel day. Linny, thank you, sweetheart, for picking us up.”

  Linny stood. “I’ll help load your bags into your cars.” Outside, Linny helped the two women wheel their suitcases from the carport and hump them into their cars.

  Ruby gave a fluttering wave as she drove off in her Malibu and, as Dessie started to back up the big Lincoln, she lowered her window and beckoned Linny over. “Try not to worry so much about your mama. Mack seems like a straight-arrow type, and between me and Ruby and you and Kate, we’ll make sure your mama doesn’t do anything foolish.”

  Linny shook her head and gave a chagrined smile. So much for her thinking she’d been subtle.

  Dessie grinned and gunned it down the driveway.

  Back in the house, Dottie had the radio switched to the His Way Christian station and was humming along to hymns as she unpacked. Curtis lay on the floor beside her, his eyes following her around the room like a creepy portrait at a haunted house.

  Linny tried to scratch the dog’s head, but he ignored her. “I’m the one who fed you the last two weeks,” she reminded him, but his eyes were trained on Dottie. “He doesn’t want to let you slip away again.”

  “I know.” Her mother dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Tell me all about how Kate’s doing and how your wedding planning is coming,” Dottie said as she separated laundry into piles of lights and darks.

  Linny gave her the highlights, and after her mother uh-huhed, tutted, and gasped at the appropriate places, she wound down. Linny fished around in her purse for her car keys. “I’ll let you get settled in. I picked you up a few groceries to tide you over. Kate is taking me out to look at wedding dresses this afternoon, and then she and Jerry are going to come by to bring you supper tonight at about six-thirty.”

  “Thank you, honey,” Dottie said and gave her a hug. “I had a swell time, but I missed my girls.”

  “We missed you, too,” Linny said, meaning it. She felt so much closer to her since Mama had finally told her and Kate about Daddy’s long-kept secret: the increasingly frequent absences from their lives that were related to a longtime girlfriend on the side.

  * * *

  In the small business district of a neighborhood that was edging its way from shabby to upscale, Linny felt bleak as she and Kate stood outside a bridal boutique called The Radiant Bride. She just didn’t feel that radiant. If the shop had been called The Wary Bride, or The Seasoned Bride, she’d have felt more comfortable. Plus, she was still gun shy from her Wiccan/Girls! Girls! Girls! wedding venue search. As if reading her mind, Kate patted her arm encouragingly and steered her toward the door. Linny stood up straighter, trying to improve her attitude. The good news was that the store was owned by an old college chum of her sister’s named Aria, a good egg, according to Kate.

  The door tinkled when they walked into the yellow and white shop, and Linny glanced over at the tall, streaky blond-haired woman adjusting the train on a bride mannequin’s dress. She resembled one of those supermodels with names like Gisele or Bar who Linny read about in the tabloids Mary Catherine passed on to her. The woman wore a winter white pantsuit and pointy, sky-high heels that looked like they were made out of snakeskin. She was so exotically beautiful that Linny couldn’t help it. She just stared, slack-jawed.

  “Aria!” Kate called, and the woman peered at them, gave a happy shriek, and strode toward them.

  This woman was an alabaster-skinned beauty, not a good egg. A good egg was an ex-field hockey player with freckles and an overbite. Linny’s palms grew clammy, and she was acutely aware of her own clunky-looking, comfortable shoes and drawstring pants. She felt like a brown robin standing next to a bird of paradise. Coming here had been a huge mistake.

  But Aria pulled Kate into an extravagant hug and burbled questions. “How’s the pregnancy coming along? Have you stopped upchucking? Are you thrilled to pieces?”

  Kate beamed. “All is well. The pregnancy’s going great and we are thrilled to pieces.” She tilted her head at Aria and asked in a teasing tone, “Changed your mind about having babies of your own?”

  Putting her fingers to her throat, Aria shuddered delicately. “Heavens no. Children are dirty.”

  Kate giggled and said to Linny, “She means it, too. She’s happy for her friends who have babies but not in the least bit interested.”

  Aria nodded in agreement, turned her indigo eyes to Linny, and stuck out her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you. I adore your sister, so I’m sure I’ll adore you.”

  Linny smiled at her and shook her hand, feeling her doubts start to melt away.

  “Oooh, you’re so chilly.” Aria chafed her icy hands with her warm, smooth ones. “Will this winter never end? Let me get you two settled in and we can talk more about your perfect dress. Would you like some hot tea?”

  “That sounds lovely,” Linny said, and Kate nodded her assent.

  Aria ushered them into a cozy adjoining room where a yellow velvet sofa and club chairs were arranged in a conversational area.

  Linny glanced around. On one wall of the room a floor-to-ceiling window framed the street scene, and she saw well-dressed shoppers ducking in and out of antique stores and beauty salons. On another wall, bright flames danced in a small gas fireplace. The room felt like a friend’s cozy living room, not a fancy shop.

  “Make yourselves at home and I’ll be back in a jiffy. You all might want to look at this short DVD on bridal trends for the year.” Aria pointed to a wide-screen mounted on the wall, handed Linny a remote, and grinned. “Don’t pay attention to the models’ expressions. Apparently, this is the year of the angry bride.” She whisked out of the room.

  The two women sank into the comfortable club chairs. Linny turned to Kate. “I like Aria.”

  Kate gave an I-told-you-so smirk and sank deeper into her chair.

  Linny hit the Play button. In a creamy voice, the announcer began, “For brides inspired by glamour bride Amal Clooney . . .” Sneering waifs glided down the runway in off-the-shoulder columns of lace. Inexplicably, they wore crownlike diamond tiaras perched on their heads. Good for wearing around Jack’s farm after the wedding. Could Aria think she’d be at all interested in dresses like these?

  “Black and white make an ultrasophisticated statement,” the announcer went on as the next flock of models gave the world the stink eye as they high-stepped it down the runway. This crowd of brides looked like glammed-up referees in their black-beaded bodices, leather elbow-length gloves, white-and-black-striped tulle skirts, and black capelets. Linny shuddered. “Why are they dressed like that?” she grumbled to Kate, but a whiffling snore came from the velvet chair. Her sister’s eyes were closed and she was in dreamland.

  Aria glided into the room bearing a silver tray. Pointing her head toward Kate, she smiled and rested the tray on the tasseled ottoman. She sat down, poured the tea, and handed Linny a wafer-thin cup.

  “Kate naps hard, so we can talk,” Linny said softly, nodding at her sister. She paused the DVD. Admiring the lily of the valley pattern on her dainty cup and saucer, she took a sip, savoring the crisp, clean taste of peppermint. Gazing at the woman, Linny raised one shoulder. “I don’t get fashion. I’m sorry, but those dresses all look like costumes to me.”

  Aria nodded, looking tranquil. “Kate said you wanted something simple.” She crossed her long legs. “Some of the gowns are over the top, but this is just to give you ideas. Since we have the fabulous fashion and textile design program at NC State, we have more than our share of talented fashion designers in our midst. The DVD showcases our up-and-coming fashion designer
s with fresh ideas and dresses that cost about half of what the established designers would charge.”

  “Good,” Linny said, bobbing her head. Fresh sounded good, and so did not spending a fortune on a dress.

  Aria gave her an appraising look. “You seem more the classic type than a trend follower.” She picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. “Tell me about your wedding.”

  She’d asked for it. Linny took a breath for courage. “The groom and I are riding down the aisle on horses, my untrained dog is the ring bearer, and my stepson is sliding in on a zip line.” She gave Aria a sideways glance to check her reaction.

  But Aria just shrugged. “I had a bride this morning who wanted a dress suitable for skydiving and a Star Wars-inspired dress last week. Whatever makes you happy is what we’ll do.”

  Linny’s hunched shoulders dropped. Aria was being so understanding. She blurted out, “Also, it’s my third wedding. I’d feel silly in an over-the-top white gown. Are there plain dresses for third-time brides?”

  “Plain? Pishposh.” Aria waved a hand in the air. “Half of my brides have been married before, and third marriages are the new black. You need to wear whatever makes you feel lovely and cherished, and don’t give a fig about anything else.” She pointed the remote at the DVD and grinned at Linny. “You’re about to come to the best part.”

  As the next crop of sullen-looking brides trotted down the runway, the plummy-voiced announcer said, “For today’s modern woman who knows who she is and won’t be constrained by tradition, we’re seeing more playful, fifties-inspired tea-length and knee-length looks, with a range of fabrics, cuts, and colors to suit brides opting for a more casual wedding.”

  Linny peered at the screen and felt a tingle run up her spine. With their sophisticated cuts, sweetheart necklines, and bell-shaped skirts, these gowns were retro, whimsical, and feminine. They reminded her of women in her favorite old movies: Lauren Bacall sliding slim arms around Bogie’s neck, Grace Kelly smiling seductively over her shoulder at Cary Grant, tiny-waisted Doris Day twinkling at Rock Hudson. She gazed at Aria and nodded.

 

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