The Wedding Pearls

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The Wedding Pearls Page 12

by Carolyn Brown


  “Does your mama know?” Ivy frowned.

  “Of course. She wears them, too,” Melody answered. “I don’t need to try on any of this, but here’s what I like and y’all can help me pick out how much I can have. Three pink shirts and shorts to match, the panties, and a new pink bra.”

  “I can see that the shirts and shorts are pink, so why do they have to write the word across your boobs and butt in glitter and diamonds?” Ivy asked.

  “It’s their signature, Aunt Ivy. And pink is my new signature color like Shelby’s was on Steel Magnolias. I was going to ask Santa for that movie for Christmas but I’m going to buy it with my own money before we get home so me and my friend Jill can watch it the first night I’m there.” Melody shoved the pile of clothing toward Frankie. “And besides, when you and Frankie went to the casino last night, you had glitter and glam all over your boobs.”

  “You can have all of it.” Frankie took a step back. “I don’t care how much it costs. Let’s pay for it and get me out of this store. I swear I’ve heard all the boob talk I want to hear for a month.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” Ivy said.

  Frankie nudged her on the shoulder. “You can pay for the next store.”

  Melody squealed and did a two-second happy dance right there in front of the counter. “You mean I get to shop some more! Can we go to Rue 21?”

  “If it’s not a panty store, that’s fine,” Ivy said, “and whatever this bill comes to, you can have that much at the next store, but remember, it all has to go in one suitcase, so you might have to pack up some stuff this evening to send home.”

  Melody shook her head back and forth. “Send home, nothing. All that black shit is going in the next hotel trash can. Don’t give me the old stink eye, Aunt Ivy. You say that word all the time.”

  Frankie pulled a couple of bills from her stash of winnings from the night before and paid the clerk, who told Melody that she could pick out one pair of panties free from a table beside the checkout since she’d spent over a hundred dollars.

  “What size do you wear, Aunt Ivy? I’m going to get my freebie for you since I don’t wear granny panties. You want silk or cotton?”

  “Silk and size eight.” Ivy waved Melody away with the flick of a wrist and then turned to Tessa. “Anything to get this kid out of this store. I’m getting hives.”

  “We’re going down the mall to some place called 21,” Frankie said when they reached the bench where Lola waited.

  Lola pointed down the center of the mall. “They’re setting up kiosks down the center of this place and a feller passed me with a big, wide dolly full of antique glassware. I’m going there while y’all visit the next place. Want to go with me, Tessa, or with them or hike out on your own and meet us back here in an hour?”

  “Only an hour? I can spend half a day in Rue 21,” Melody whined.

  “Well, darlin’, you’ve got one hour and the same amount of money that you spent in that pink store back there, so you’d best shop real fast,” Ivy said.

  Tessa had absolutely no interest in going to a teenagers’ clothing store, so she sat down on the bench beside Lola. “I’m going to stay with Lola.”

  “I’ll pay you to take Melody to that store and I’ll sit on the bench.” Frankie groaned.

  “Oh, no, you will not!” Ivy said. “If I have to go, so do you.” She looped her free arm in Frankie’s and pulled her along.

  Lola pushed up off the bench. “We might as well be the first ones there when he unloads his goods. I think I saw a cream pitcher or two. I’m looking for white milk glass. It seems to be the rage right now with collectors.”

  The vendor had only one piece of milk glass, but it was a lovely one, a compote with the grape pattern that wasn’t easy to find. Lola negotiated with him and bought it for five dollars less than the asking price. Tessa found a lovely little green cream pitcher and sugar bowl to match, but he wouldn’t budge on the price and he wouldn’t split the pieces.

  Lola led the way back to the bench, sat down, turned sideways, and pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged. “Those were made in the forties so they’re not really antiques yet but not many of them have survived so you really got a pretty good deal on them.”

  “Will you tell me the story of Frankie and Lester while we wait?” Tessa asked.

  Lola’s expression changed from happy to sad in an instant. “No, but I’ll tell you how they affected me.”

  Tessa wished she hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry. If it’s painful, you don’t have to go there.”

  “You deserve to hear because you agreed to come with us.” Lola hesitated a long time before she went on. “I’ll condense it as much as possible. Mama lost so many babies and she’d given up all hope and resigned herself to never having children. It was either that or she inherited a flaw, because she had no mother instincts. She was more like my friend than my mother.”

  It might be rude, but Tessa couldn’t keep her eyes off Lola’s face. She could feel Lola’s pain but had no idea what to say to make it go away.

  Lola went on, “I’m not complaining, because I understand her now. But growing up was different. She and Daddy had each other and they’d learned to accept it, and then I came along and upset their apple cart. She was good to me. She took care of me, provided for me. I never wanted for anything and always had the best money could buy. But there was something missing . . . something she couldn’t give me because she didn’t have it to give. It’s hard to explain, Tessa. But I didn’t ever feel that tender loving care that kids want and need from their mother. I loved her and she loved me, but the closeness . . . what you and Sophie have . . . wasn’t there. Don’t look at me like that. I can see it in your eyes when you mention her and hear it in your voice when you talk to her. It’s what I wanted for you, so I’m damn sure not complainin’. I was terrified that I couldn’t ever give it to you because I didn’t know how—” She paused.

  Several seconds passed and Tessa wondered if she was waiting for her to say something, but she was trying to process what Lola had said.

  “I saw right away,” Lola went on, her face showing the pain of the words, “that Sophie had whatever it was that was missing from my gene pool. I wanted you to have that. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  Immediately, Tessa wondered if she would have the same flaw. Had Matt seen that she wouldn’t make a good mother, or had he worried about it because no one knew her biological family?

  “So I rebelled and went looking for what I didn’t have at home. In my young mind, I thought sex and love was the same thing.” Lola hesitated as if she was getting her thoughts together. “Then I learned that there are different kinds of love and they can’t be interchanged. I’m probably confusing you. Like I said, it’s taken almost thirty years for me to get a handle on all this.”

  “I’m listening, but you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Tessa heard what she said, but her heart didn’t want Lola to stop.

  “Daddy was a hard man and demanded a lot, with respect and obeying at the top of the list, but I never sat on his lap or he didn’t read books to me or have tea parties with my little china sets at Christmas.” Lola’s tone had changed to a monotone. “I guess it was pure rebellion when I ran away with Tommy, my boyfriend, to live in the commune. Then he left me there and I knew better than to go home. Daddy wouldn’t have let me in the door, not when I was unmarried and pregnant.”

  Tessa’s sharp intake of air startled Lola out of the trance.

  “What? Aren’t all fathers like that? When they speak, aren’t we supposed to jump?” she asked.

  Tessa shook her head. “I can’t imagine my daddy not letting me come home. He would lay down the law and I’d have to toe the line, but he’d be so glad to see me that he’d open up his arms to me.”

  Lola unwound her legs and sat up straight on the bench. “And that is why I let Sophie and Derek have you. That’s what I wanted for you, Tessa. I went through four different men right after Tommy left me strande
d. One a week, and none of them brought me a bit of happiness. And then I was pregnant and didn’t know which one was the father. I was so ashamed of myself and guilt ridden that it almost destroyed me.” There was another long silent stretch. Then Lola wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “If it hadn’t been for Sophie, I would have probably overdosed and finished my life right there. But she saw me through it, listened to me cry at night, held my hair back when I threw up every day for the first three months I carried you, and then never left my bedside when you were born. Did she tell you that she slept in a chair so she’d be there to take care of you for me?”

  Tessa wanted to ask if she’d figured out which man got her pregnant, but she didn’t want to sidetrack her, so she kept quiet. Tessa tried to remember her feelings when she’d last held a baby. One of the women at her church had a baby girl around Christmastime last year. Holding that baby had made Tessa want one of her own, but if she did have a child, would she feel the same after it was born?

  “I lived with Sophie and Derek until I went into labor.” Sophie grimaced as she remembered. “And that’s the day I understood my mother for the first time. They put you in my arms and I only felt pain. I handed you off to Sophie and she sat down in a rocking chair and started humming a lullaby. I had no idea how to love you, and you looked at me as if you didn’t know who I was. But when Sophie held you, you snuggled into her arms, and I realized my mother and I shared the lack of mothering instincts. You deserved better than I had, so I gave you to Sophie.”

  Tessa scooted over and slung an arm around Lola’s bent shoulders. “I’ve had a good life, Lola. My mama and daddy both love me very much.”

  “I know they do. I can see that and I have no regrets.”

  Tessa bit her lip and drew her eyes down.

  Lola smiled. “Your birth father did that same thing when he was worried. I’ll tell you what little I know about him later on. But now, back to this story. When I was twenty years old I started knitting, and I thought if I only made pink hats for new baby girls and if I hummed while I worked, maybe it would ease the guilt.”

  Tessa squeezed her shoulder gently. “And then it got to be a habit, right?”

  Lola’s smile was shy. “Yes, but babies don’t interest me, no matter how many hats I knit. Folks come in the store with these newborn babies and Inez goes all gaga over them. I try, but I must’ve been standing behind the door when God gave out mother instincts, because I failed to pick up any at all.”

  “And Lester? Was he glad when you came back home? Did you show up on the doorstep or call first?” Tessa asked.

  Lola leaned against Tessa. “Sophie called the number for me and talked to my mama, who wired her the money to put me on an airplane and send me home. When she came back into the hospital room, I was staring at you in that bassinet and trying to feel something. She told me that my dad had been dead for six months and that my mama wanted me to come home.”

  Tessa shivered from head to toe. “Oh, Lola, I’m so sorry. That was too much for anyone to have to take in. You probably had something like PTSD.”

  Lola nodded. “That’s what they said at the center where Mama took me. She met me at the airport, took one look at me, and drove me straight to something between a hospital and a rehab center. Because of the privacy thing, they couldn’t tell Mama anything that we discussed, and I didn’t tell her about the hysterectomy for ten years. I didn’t tell her about you until last month.”

  “After all these years, why?”

  Lola shrugged. “She was whining about how much she wanted a grandchild and I spit it out before I even thought about what I was saying.”

  Before she could say anything else, Melody, Ivy, and Frankie showed up and Lola looked up, and just like that the sadness was replaced with a smile. But it did not reach her eyes.

  Tessa stood up and pointed at the bag Melody carried. “I’d say from the size of that bag that you’d best do some suitcase arranging when we stop at the next postal place. Lola found something I need to send home, so I’ll get the GPS up on my phone and we’ll stop by one on our way out of town.”

  “What did you find?” Frankie asked Tessa.

  She removed the cream pitcher and sugar bowl from a sack, unwrapped them from the newspaper, and held them up. “Aren’t they cute?”

  “We used to get those in oatmeal, or was it laundry detergent?” Ivy said.

  “I had a whole bunch of them in my hope chest when me and Lester married. His mama about had a fit when she saw them on my table because they weren’t good stuff. I had a notion to tell her that I didn’t put out the good stuff for old biddies like her,” Frankie said. “Now, let’s get out of this place and back on the road. I’ve had all the shopping I want to do for the rest of my life.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you, for everything,” Melody gushed as they left the cool mall and a hot Texas wind hit them square in the face. “I can’t wait to take selfies and send to Jill.”

  “I thought your best friend was Natalie,” Ivy said.

  “Ex–best friend. Jill has been my friend since I was in kindergarten and I was stupid to forsake her for those hateful girls. I hope Natalie gets caught selling pot on the school grounds. Soon as we get to the hotel tonight, I’m having a fashion show in all my new stuff and I’m going to take tons of pictures.” She rattled all the way to the car.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lola was stretched out on the bed and talking quietly on the phone when Tessa gathered up all her dirty laundry, stuffed it into a plastic sack, and eased the door shut behind her. She should have packed more underwear, but she’d really thought she’d give the trip until the end of the week and then catch a bus or a taxi to the nearest airport.

  She was such a meticulous planner and packer that she had used a public laundry only a few times in her life. In college, she and Clint had shared an apartment that came with a washer and dryer. When she graduated and got her own apartment, she’d made sure that one did, too. Hoping that she had enough quarters to wash and dry two small loads, she pushed into the tiny laundry room, stumbled over nothing but air, and fell right into Branch’s arms.

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

  He held her tightly against his broad chest. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this. People are going to think you are falling for me.”

  She pushed back and sighed. “I imagine they’ll think I’m naturally clumsy.”

  His smile lit up the closet-size room that held two washers on one side and two dryers stacked on top of each other and a folding table the size of a card table on the other side. He’d already sorted his things on the folding table into two piles, which meant it would be at least half an hour before she could get her things going.

  “From the size of that bag”—he pointed to her hand—“I’d say that you’ve probably got two small loads, too. Why don’t we combine them? We can each pay for a washer and a dryer to make it fair. I plan on doing laundry on Fridays while we’re on the road to keep from having to buy new things. How about you? Shall we make this our Friday night thing?”

  Where were the excuse gods when she needed them? Probably having wine with the gods of grace and laughing about who they’d abandon the next day.

  “Sure.” She’d been in a long-term relationship that involved laundry, but putting her underpants and nightshirts in the same washer with his things seemed so personal. There were his white Jockey shorts all mixed up with her Victoria’s Secret hip huggers. The blush started at her neck and crawled up to her cheeks in record time.

  “Hot in here, isn’t it?” she said.

  He picked up the whole bunch and tossed them in a washer, put the money into the slots, and added detergent. “Little bit. Want to go sit beside the pool while they wash? I checked before I came in here and it looks like there’s a few of those chaise lounges in there. I still owe you a soft drink.”

  She kept her eyes away from her underpants going in the machine with his. “Sounds fine to
me. I’ll have a Dr Pepper, not diet.”

  He chuckled. “High-octane, huh?”

  She wondered how in the devil he wasn’t married with a smile that showed off enough dimples to be masculine and that oh-so-sexy five o’clock shadow. “That’s right. I only allow myself to have a real one every few days. They’re full of sugar and empty calories.”

  Branch finished getting the next washer going and tucked her arm into his. “You don’t have to justify anything to me, Tessa.”

  “But I do to me.” She simply had to find a boyfriend when she got home. This business of electricity between her and Branch was about to undo her hormones.

  He led her out of the laundry and pointed toward a door leading outside. “There’s a Coke machine out there by the pool. Cans only. No bottles, since it is a pool area and there’s a big sign that says that anyone who throws a can into the pool will be banned. So I hope you aren’t feeling rebellious.”

  “Not today.” She was glad there was no one at the pool and doubly glad that she wasn’t wearing a bikini because there had to be a red handprint on her arm where his hand had rested. The heat was too fierce for it not to be crimson. She stretched out on a lounge and took a couple of long, deep breaths while he went to the vending machine under an awning in the corner.

  Branch brought back two cans and handed one to her. “One high-octane Dr Pepper right here. Tab pulled and ready to drink. Feels good and cold, too.”

  She tipped it up and took a long drink. “It is really good. It’s a treat to get something that’s not diet.”

  He claimed the chaise right next to her and leaned back in it, shut his eyes, and for a few seconds she thought he’d gone right to sleep. But then, without opening his eyes, he said, “You mentioned that you hadn’t had a boyfriend since Christmas.”

  “That’s right.” She could have given him the exact number of months, days, hours, and minutes since Matt broke up with her.

  “And that was the end of it, no calls, no texts, nothing?” he asked.

 

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