by Ann B. Ross
“Oops,” she said.
When I hung up the phone, I turned to Lillian. “Lord, Lillian,” I said. “Can you believe this? I’ve been going round and round about miracles ever since last night, and had about given up on them. But this is a miracle if there ever was one, although I think it was Coleman who performed it.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout?”
Before I could answer, Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd pushed through the kitchen door, ready for breakfast.
“Hazel Marie, you’ll never guess,” I said. “Binkie’s on her way, and she’s going through with it. Now, what we have to do is not let her out of our sight, just in case she has another attack of hormones.” Then seeing the interest on Little Lloyd’s face, I corrected myself. “I mean, nerves.”
“What happened?” Hazel Marie asked. “What made her change her mind?”
“Coleman put his foot down, that’s what. Instead of moping around and pleading with her and acting pitiful, he just flat-out told her what she was going to do. Not that I think that’s the best approach in the world, mind you. I wouldn’t stand for it myself, although I used to all the time. But it must’ve been just what Binkie needed.”
“I wish J.D.’d put his foot down,” she said, somewhat longingly. “But, oh, I’m so happy for them, and for us. It’s going to be a great day. Lloyd, honey, what kind of cereal do you want?” As the day wore on, the house rang with so much going and coming that I could hardly keep up with who was in and who was out. Harriet from The Watering Can arrived with two helpers, and they brought in one huge arrangement after another, spilling fern leaves and leaving water spots on the floor. Lillian went behind them, sweeping and mopping. Harriet stuck fresh flowers in the greenery on the arch and, pretty soon, my two front rooms looked like a garden spot.
LuAnne popped in with a large basket heaped high with little net sacks tied with pink ribbon. “Got them all done, Julia,” she said, pleased with herself and rightly so. “I’ll just set the basket by the front door, where the guests can get them as they go out.”
“They’re lovely, LuAnne. Thank you.”
“It was a pleasure to have something to do,” she assured me. “And besides, I got Leonard to help me. Kept his hands so busy tying ribbons, he didn’t have time for anything else.” She giggled as she placed the basket by the door.
“Glad to’ve helped,” I said, but she was already out the door, saying she had to start getting ready for the wedding.
Before Harriet was finished putting the last touches on the flower arrangements, the caterer arrived with her helpers, and they began to fill the kitchen with loaded trays, covered pans and dishes of all sorts. Lillian stood by with her hands on her hips, looking for something to complain about. They ignored her as they filled the refrigerator, checked the dining room table and arranged their party food on every empty surface. James and Emmett had come in by that time and helped them bring in the trays. In their white jackets and black bow ties, both of them looked handsome enough to join the wedding party.
During all the commotion, that lady on the wall across the street kept looming in the back of my mind. Was she real or just a fancy in everybody’s mind, including mine? And what was she doing on the wall of Pastor Ledbetter’s Family Life Center? You’d think she’d’ve found a more congenial place than a Presbyterian wall to make her appearance.
Then it came to me with certainty that she’d appeared at the very place where she’d do the most good. Something had certainly worked wonders on Coleman, then went right on through him to straighten out Binkie. I couldn’t deny that a miracle of some kind had happened. I’d tried my best with Coleman and Binkie and gotten nowhere, so it stood to reason that a higher power had intervened somehow.
But miracle or no miracle, that sidewalk congregation was going to have to move on before our guests began to arrive or whatever’d happened would be all for naught.
A little after noon, just as I was beginning to worry, Binkie came bounding in, long after I’d wanted her there. She had her wedding dress draped over one arm, and a tote bag filled with shoes, hair dryer and beauty aids on the other.
“It’s beautiful, Miss Julia!” she said, gazing around the living room, filled now with enough flower arrangements to start a shop of our own. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a thing. The bride doesn’t do anything but rest and get ready. Take your things upstairs to my room. Does that dress need pressing? Let Lillian look at it; I don’t trust you with an iron on that flimsy material. Oh, you might want to open some of these gifts that’ve come in.” I pointed to the linen-covered table by the door piled high with presents. “Be sure and keep a record of who sent what and, if you want to get started on your thank-you notes, there’s some stationery in my desk.” You have to keep after young people today to do what they’re supposed to do. I knew people who’d carried a grudge the rest of their lives because they hadn’t gotten a thank-you note. Mildred Allen was a prime example of it, too. I always made sure I wrote her one if she so much as spoke to me on the street.
Lillian, suddenly deciding that Binkie’s usual breakfast of nothing would make her light-headed and that she needed something to eat, sailed into the kitchen. Katie’s Kuisine had made it plain that they wanted no interference, but that didn’t stop Lillian. Paying no mind to their glares, she went about her business and piled a plate full. Then she poured a glass of milk and took the tray upstairs to Binkie.
That inspired Emmett, who declared, “That whole weddin’ party need something on they stomachs. They gonna be faintin’ all over the place, they don’t eat.” Ignoring the frowns of the caterers, he and James prepared a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of tea. We all gathered in Hazel Marie’s room to eat since the kitchen and dining room were out of bounds. By the time we’d finished, Mr. Pickens had shown up, his wedding clothes over his shoulder.
“Hey, folks,” he said, going straight over to Hazel Marie and displaying some of that public affection he was so free with. “Everybody about ready? Miss Julia, you mind if I put on this monkey suit over here? I was afraid if I came any later, I wouldn’t be able to get through the crowd to your door.” His black eyes sparkled and I prepared myself for more of his teasing. “Kinda got carried away with your invitations, didn’t you?”
“No, I did not, and you know it, Mr. Pickens,” I told him. “We’re just going to have to put up with them, I guess, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t remind me of something I can’t do anything about. Now, you can use Coleman’s room to dress and you need to hurry up. He’s over at Binkie’s, but if he’s not soon here, I’m going to send you after him.”
“He’ll be here. I talked to him a little while ago. Lloyd, why don’t you dress with us, and leave your room for the ladies? They need more space than we do.”
The boy grinned, pleased to be included with the men. Hazel Marie held on to Mr. Pickens’s hand, her face shining as it always did in his presence. Lord, I needed to get those two married, even if it meant losing Little Lloyd for good. But one miracle at a time, I told myself.
Mr. Pickens couldn’t leave well enough alone, though. “I knew you were good, Miss Julia,” he said. “But I didn’t know you could start a brush-arbor revival all by yourself.”
“That’s not what it is,” I said. Then realizing that he was teasing me again, I went on. “You make me so tired, Mr. Pickens.”
“Well,” he said, turning serious for a change, “the street’s filling up with half the county. You’ve got a crowd scene out there and lots of traffic. I had to park a block away.”
“Oh, my word,” I said, getting to my feet. “Mr. Pickens, we’ve got to do something. What if the wedding guests can’t get in? Call the sheriff, Hazel Marie, we’re going to need some crowd control around here.”
“I’ll call ’em,” Mr. Pickens said. “But I expect you’re going to have all the help you need, since half the department’ll be here for the wedding.”
I went to one of the front
windows in the living room and peered out. Lord, but the sidewalk was teeming with people in their Sunday best. And they’d spread out until they were right in front of the house and down past Lila McCarran’s yard. Cars and pickups filled with whole families were creeping along the street, slowing even more as they passed that brick wall in front of my house. And to cap it all, there was a guitar player strolling up and down the sidewalk strumming away at some doleful Latin melody. My first thought was that it was Pastor Petree, except he wouldn’t be caught dead in cowboy boots and a baseball cap, much less sporting a mustache as black and bushy as Mr. Pickens’s.
“Mr. Pickens,” I said, patting my chest to help me breathe easier. “I can’t have this. Something’ll have to be done. We found out last night that there’s a miracle on the wall over there. But that’s no excuse for ruining a wedding that’s taken a miracle to pull off.”
Chapter 31
“Huh,” Mr. Pickens said, his eyes sweeping the crowd that now included whole families with children. “Come on, Miss Julia, you don’t believe that, do you?”
“I don’t know what I believe at this point. But Coleman saw something over there, and Little Lloyd thinks he did, too. And I declare, Mr. Pickens, something has certainly worked wonders with both Coleman and Binkie. Now,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, “if something would get to work on you, I wouldn’t have a doubt in the world.”
He laughed as I knew he would. “Don’t expect miracles, Miss Julia.”
“I’m not. But that’s the trouble. I think I’ve seen some, but it’s hard to believe they could come from something on a Presbyterian structure. Especially since it has to do with a woman. Why, John Knox would turn over in his grave, to say nothing of John Calvin and Pastor Ledbetter.”
“Here comes Sam,” Mr. Pickens said, pointing as Sam came from around the back of the house to the front door. “Let’s see what he has to say.”
If anything could’ve taken my attention from the problem in the street, it would’ve been Sam in all his finery. There’s nothing more handsome than a well-set-up man in evening clothes, even though he was wearing a dinner jacket long before the proper time, thanks to Binkie. He almost took my breath away, but I recovered before it was noticed.
“Hello, folks,” Sam said, as he came in. “From the looks of things out there, Julia, your guest list has doubled and then some.”
“Oh, Sam, what’re we going to do? Those people just keep coming and coming. They’re already blocking the street and creating problems.”
“There’ll be some deputies here in a few minutes,” Mr. Pickens assured me. Then shaking Sam’s hand, he went on. “What do you make of it, Sam?”
Sam gave us that tolerant smile he was known for and said, “If people’re convinced there’s something miraculous going on, then it’s natural to want to honor it.”
“Huh,” Mr. Pickens said, leaning over to look through the window again. “That’s the damnedest thing. Can you see it?”
“Oh, yes,” Sam said, nodding his head and surprising me no end. “I can make out the outline, and it does look like a woman’s head and face. You know what it is, don’t you?”
“I don’t,” I said, not wanting him to think I’d been taken up in religious emotionalism. Regardless of how much uncertainty I had in my heart. “Surely you don’t believe it’s the Virgin Mary, Sam. There’s nothing on that wall but some sloppy workmanship. Although I have to give it credit for getting this wedding back on track.”
Sam grinned at me. “You’ll take whatever you can get, huh, Julia? But no, I don’t believe it’s a miraculous appearance. What they’re seeing is something called efflorescence, a salt deposit that seeps out on the surface of the bricks in white lines and splotches. It can happen as new bricks dry out after getting wet. And those bricks got a good soaking when rainwater sluiced down from the roof. At least that’s one explanation for it. I’ve heard that the seepage can take some strange forms, and looks like that’s what’s happened here.”
“Well, good,” I said, pleased that we now had the means to thin out the crowd. “We can just go out there and give those people your scientific explanation and send them home. If we hurry, we’ll have room for our guests to get through.”
Mr. Pickens said, “I doubt a scientific explanation will cut much ice with believers, Miss Julia. They’ll see what they want to see, and you’ll have to put up with it.” He stopped, opened his mouth, closed it, then said with a touch of awe, “Would you look at that!”
Sam and I looked over his shoulder, thinking to see some new evidence of a miracle. Instead, we saw Miss Mattie Mae Morgan, decked out in a red silk damask gown that swirled around her red pumps as she lumbered up the walkway. As she reached the steps, she hiked up the long gown to her knees, and came puffing onto the porch.
“Oh, my word,” I said, my hand at my throat. “There goes Binkie’s color scheme.”
“Miz Springer!” Mattie Mae called as she opened the screen door. “You ain’t gonna b’lieve what’s out there on that buildin’! It’s Mary, Mother of God, sure as I’m standin’ here. Oh, Lord! I’m gonna play that instrument like it never been played before! In the presence of a miracle, that’s what I am. Hallelujah, Jesus!”
“Miss Morgan!” I cried. “Mattie Mae! Get hold of yourself. You need to calm down. Sam, Mr. Pickens, you see what’s happening? The wedding’s going to be ruined! I just know it is!” I could’ve cried right there.
Hazel Marie came halfway down the stairs and called, “Miss Julia, you better come on up and get dressed. I’m ready to do your hair, and Binkie needs you.”
I turned to her, wringing my hands, then back to that spectacle on the street. “How in the world can I do two things at once?”
“Go on and get dressed, Julia,” Sam said. “J.D. and I’ll take care of Miss Morgan and watch things down here.”
Mr. Pickens said, “Here comes Peavey. You’re in good hands now, Miss Julia.” He gave me a wicked grin.
I glanced out the window and saw Lieutenant Peavey walking into the yard. He was resplendent in a white dinner jacket with a ruffled shirt, bow tie and cummerbund. And his ever-present sunglasses.
“Well,” I said, “send him out there. If he can’t scare them off, nobody can. As for myself, I’m going to get dressed before he gets in here.”
I hurried up the stairs to be greeted by the smell of burning hair. The doors of my and Little Lloyd’s rooms were open, and Binkie and Hazel Marie were running between them in various stages of undress. Hair rollers and hair curlers steamed along with an iron sitting upright on the ironing board.
“Hurry, Miss Julia,” Binkie said. Her hair was rolled on rollers as big as juice cans, and she was running around in a loose robe with her dyed-to-match shoes in her hand. Her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling. “Hazel Marie! Can I take these rollers out now?”
“Get in here, Miss Julia,” Lillian said as she wielded a curling iron on her own head. “I’ll he’p you with all them buttons soon as I get this hair straightened.”
Lord, I thought, some are curling hair and some are straightening, but all of them looked to be using the same instruments.
I went into my room and took my dress from the bed. On my way to the bathroom to undress in private, Binkie came running back in. “Is Coleman here yet? Have you seen him?”
I stopped, tried to calm my nerves, and said, “Mr. Pickens is in charge of Coleman. Don’t worry; he’ll be here.”
I closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. Lord, where was Coleman? Wouldn’t that be a pretty come off if he didn’t show up? I dressed as quickly as I could, spending a few minutes on my face without looking too closely in the mirror. I find that, after a certain age, it doesn’t do to spend too much time in front of one of those things. They can make you not want to go out in public.
I came out of the bathroom trying to get those endless buttons fastened. But being so anxious to get back downstairs to see if that crowd of people had been
dispersed and to see if Coleman had arrived, I wasn’t doing much more than fumbling with them.
“Set down right here,” Lillian said, swinging a chair around. She was in nothing more than a slip, but she’d already arranged her hat on her straightened hair. “Lemme get them buttons for you. Miss Hazel Marie, you can come on in now. I got her settin’ down.”
Hazel Marie hurried in, as fully dressed as she was going to get in that next-to-nothing garment Binkie had chosen. She was still in her bare feet, holding a number of brushes, mirrors and little plastic containers in both hands.
“Hold still, Miss Julia,” she said. “I’m going to fix your face.”
“My face doesn’t need fixing.”
“Yes, it does. It needs some color. Now look, I’m going to put some lavender eye shadow on, just a dab or two, and darken your eyebrows a little.”
As she laid hands on me, I said, “Hazel Marie, watch what you’re doing! I’m not used to all that paint.”
“Hold still,” Lillian said, as her hands worked at the buttons on my bodice. “An’ get used to it.”
“Now for some blush,” Hazel Marie said, swirling a huge brush on my cheekbones. “Oh, you’re going to knock Sam’s socks off. Binkie, where’s that hair pick? I need to fluff out her hair a little.”
“You’re beautiful, Miss Julia,” Binkie said, handing the pick to Hazel Marie.
“I doubt that,” I said, resigned to their ministrations. “Hurry up, Hazel Marie, you’ve still got Binkie’s hair to do, and I need to get downstairs.”
“Okay, a little mascara and some lip gloss and we’re done. Now turn around and look in the mirror.”
They all gathered behind me and looked over my shoulders. I couldn’t help but smile. It was a transformation, if I do say so myself. Maybe it was a day for miracles in a number of ways.
“That’s remarkable, Hazel Marie,” I finally said. “I just hope the powder doesn’t get clogged up in all these wrinkles.”