War and Peach

by Susan Furlong

  Her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Really? You think it’s good?”

  Ginny snatched up her own spoon and swirled it around the pan. She then held the spoon over her open palm and gently blew before taking a taste. Her face lit up. “Lawdy, that’s good!” She tossed the spoon in the sink and shook her head. “I swear, this new candy venture of yours is going to add ten pounds to my hips.” She winked my way. “You sure you want this girl working full-time for you, Nola? She’s a better cook than you, any day. And if you’re not careful, she might just take over the whole darn business.”

  I laughed. “You’re right, Gin. But I’ll take the risk.” I patted Carla on the back. “I couldn’t do it without her.” My praise brought a blush to Carla’s cheeks, but it was the truth. During the past two weeks, ever since Daddy’s surgery and recovery and my transition to taking over the farm, Carla had been a godsend. Not only had she stepped up her hours at Peachy Keen, but she’d taken over a big part of my cooking, as well as learning how to deal with consigners and out-of-town buyers. She’d also kept up the online orders, as well as doing some of the grocery shopping for me.

  Speaking of grocery shopping, word was that Lucas had put in his two-week notice at the Pack & Carry. Ray, bless his heart, was able to gently convince our grief-stricken sheriff not to pursue any charges against the kid. Lucas had taken his good fortune as an opportunity to start over fresh. He’d sworn off his wild ways and even worked up the nerve to pop the big question. He and Tessa planned to marry right after the holidays and make a go of full-time peach farming. I wished them all the luck in the world.

  As for Maudy . . . well, she still hadn’t recovered from the shock of losing Travis. She’d barely talked to anyone since the tragedy, bottling up her grief inside her tough exterior, not letting anyone console her. And I’m not sure who she blamed more for the travesty, herself or me. One thing for sure, she truly hated me now.

  Jack Snyder was officially mayor now. I’d really had him pegged as Clem’s killer: his ultra-competitiveness, that burn on his arm—which turned out to be just what he’d claimed, from burning branch trimmings—to his sneaky ways of using Clem’s murder as a way to gain votes. All in all, not quite the character I’d want in a town leader. Nonetheless, he’d won the vote by a landslide. Unfortunately, the success of his campaign had gone straight to his head. He was ruling the town like a dictator, treating everyone like an underling and enacting ordinances to benefit his circle of farming cronies. He’d already earned a nickname, Jack the Tyrant, from many of the local town folk. Hmm? Maybe an outsider like Margie Price might not have been such a bad choice for mayor, after all.

  I hadn’t seen much of Margie Price lately. My guess was she was still licking her wounds from her mayoral loss. Margie wasn’t the type of woman who took loss easily. Which made me wonder if what’d happened with Felix Ganassi hadn’t stirred up too many old memories of a different type of loss—lost love. Poor Margie. I made a mental note to stop by and pay her a visit soon.

  Suddenly, the back door opened, drawing me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Hattie breeze in wearing an ankle-length coat and carrying a stack of those dreaded wedding magazines under her arm. “Cold as anything out there,” she said. “Heard there’s a threat of an overnight frost.”

  “Well, shoot!” Ginny exclaimed. “That’ll probably be it for my gardenias, then. They’ve been just beautiful this year, too. ’Course, I could put a sheet over them, I suppose.” Ginny continued blathering about gardening, but the whole time she talked, she warily eyed Hattie’s bridal magazines. Finally she took a deep breath and timidly asked, “You’re not still lookin’ for a weddin’ dress, are you?”

  Her question seemed to suck the air right out of the kitchen. Carla even stopped stirring, turning from the stove with a panicked look on her face. None of us dared say another word. We’d learned our lessons. Wedding dresses were a sore topic with Hattie. Heck, even the tiniest mention of anything to do with weddings was enough to put our dear friend over the edge these days. A huge part of me just wished the crazy thing was over already. I’d do about anything to have the old, sensible Hattie back.

  “No, I’m not looking for a wedding dresses anymore,” Hattie stated, throwing down the magazines and reaching up to unbutton her coat. With a flare, she ripped it open, revealing a gorgeous tea-length wedding gown. “Because I’ve already found one!”

  I squealed with delight. “Oh, Hattie! It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” And it was. The simple lines of the off-the-shoulder sheath hugged her curves perfectly, and its percale white lace created a stunning contrast to Hattie’s dark hair.

  “Of course it is,” Hattie said. “It was my mama’s dress. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It just seems so right that I should wear it, don’t y’all think?” A glisten of moisture in her smiling eyes told me all I needed to know—she’d finally found a special way to bring her mother to the wedding.

  We agreed with a chorus of enthusiastic yeses.

  “And, I’ve got another surprise for you,” Hattie continued. “Pete and I are getting married today!”

  “Today?” we echoed.

  Hattie’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes. Right now, actually.” She slipped her coat back over her shoulders. “At the church. And y’all are invited.”

  “A wedding? Right now?” Ginny’s hands flew to her cheeks. “I can’t go looking like this.”

  “Yes, you can,” Hattie said. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Pete says he’s taken care of everything: the preacher, the flowers and the music, too. And don’t worry. He’s already called Sam,” she told Ginny, then looked my way. “Cade’s there, too, with our daddy. Pete called while I was dressing and said they’re ready and all waiting for us.” Her blue gray eyes twinkled. “Now, who’s coming to my wedding?”

  * * *

  We must’ve looked like quite the crew as we walked into the church with her a few minutes later—Carla and me in our work-stained T-shirts and Ginny still in her waitress uniform—but any thoughts about our own appearances melted away the second we entered the sanctuary.

  I’d assumed that they would opt to have the ceremony in the small inner sanctuary, considering our party of not even a dozen would be dwarfed in the main church sanctuary. But, oh no, the church’s main area came alive as we stepped through the door. There were only the handful of us, true, but Pete and whoever had helped him had lined both side aisles with candelabra, giving a warm, flickering glow to the natural cedar beams and wooden pews. Even the stained glass windows, which normally required daylight to bring them life, glowed with the smiling faces of angels in the candlelight. And the air! The perfume of hundreds of flowers filled our nostrils with delight. We gasped at the beauty of it all.

  Hattie stopped and raised her hand to her heart. “Daisies,” she whispered with disbelief. “Mama’s favorites.” Daisies indeed. They were everywhere: on the altar, gathered and tied with bows of tulle on the end of every pew—there were even daisy petals scattered along the edges of the velvet red aisle runner.

  Cade and Sam were by the door waiting for us, along with Hattie’s father, whose milky blue eyes were wide with astonishment. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Did someone die?”

  Cade gently gripped his arm. “No, Daddy. Hattie’s getting married. You’re going to walk her down the aisle. Just like we’ve been practicing. Remember?” He nodded to Hattie. “It’ll be okay, sis. Don’t worry.”

  Hattie leaned forward and gave her father a peck on the cheek. “Of course it will. I’m so glad you’re here, Daddy.” She looked at Ginny and me. “I know this isn’t the wedding y’all imagined for me, but I thought about what you’d said, Nola. About how the wedding is just the opening act to a lifetime of marriage. Well, I realized you were right. All that other stuff, the dresses, the fancy reception . . . none of that really matters. All that’s really important is t
hat the people we love are here with us today.” She swiped at her cheek and held out her arms for an embrace. “I just don’t know what I would do without you two. Y’all are just like family to me.”

  Ginny and I embraced our friend, clinging to one another and giggling like schoolgirls. After a minute, we were interrupted by Pete, who’d joined us from the front of the church. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said. He looked as handsome as ever in a black suit and tie, his dark eyes gleaming mischievously. “Can I cut in?” He held out a simple bouquet of daisies. “These are for you, my beautiful bride.”

  Hattie lifted the bouquet to her face and inhaled the sweetness of the flowers. “I can’t believe you decorated with daisies.”

  I knew my friend was delighted, but Pete must have misunderstood. His face fell. “I’m so sorry, amorcita,” he said, running a hand through his wavy black hair. “I ordered roses, but when the shipment came, I took one look at them and then I remembered what you said once, about your mamacita, about daisies. And I thought . . .” The more excited he got, the heavier his accent became. “Can you ever forgive me, mi querida?”

  “Forgive you?” Hattie’s eyes misted over. “Pete, this is the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

  Ginny looked confused. “Gift?”

  Hattie looked at her friend. “Daisies were Mama’s favorite flowers.” She turned misty eyes at her soon-to-be-husband. “And he remembered.”

  At the mention Hattie’s mother, Mr. McKenna became excited. “Clara? Is Clara here?” He squinted at Hattie and reached out to touch her cheek. “Clara, is that you?”

  We all grew silent. My heart went out to Hattie. How difficult it must be to know her father didn’t recognize her.

  “No, Daddy. It’s me, Hattie.”

  His eyes seem to clear for a moment. “Hattie, dear?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “I thought I saw your mother.” He lowered his head, his shoulders folding forward. “Just my mind playing tricks on me again.”

  Hattie stepped forward, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she looped her arm in her father’s. “No, Daddy. Your mind’s not playing tricks on you.” She gracefully lifted her shoulders and turned to face the aisle. “Mama is here with us, Daddy. She is here.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, as I stood by Cade’s side and watched my friend take her wedding vows and begin her new life with Pete, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much my own life had changed since my return to Cays Mill. In many ways, I’d grown more in these past two years than I ever had in the fifteen or so that I worked as an aid worker. Sure, that work was important, but not any more important, and certainly not more rewarding, than what I’d done since returning home: from helping my family in trouble, to opening my shop and now taking over the farm and preserving our family heritage. And to think that I’d stayed away from home for so long, on the run from my past, and unable to believe that I could ever be happy living in Cays Mill. Was I ever wrong! Never before had I known such happiness as I did now, here in my childhood home, surrounded by those I cherished and loved.

  As Hattie and Pete uttered their “I do’s,” Cade reached for my hand, squeezing it softly. I turned and looked up to see the love in his eyes and knew, without a doubt, that this was exactly where I belonged. Oh, sure, I’d always have to deal with a few gossips and troublemakers and people like Frances and Maudy with their personal agendas. I knew issues and problems would always spring up unannounced. But at this moment in time, they simply didn’t matter. For today, I could write my own headline: “Local Store Owner and New Peach Farmer Finds Happiness in Cays Mill, Georgia.”

  Recipes

  Ginny Wiggins’s Perfect Peach Cake

  2 cans (15 ounces each) sliced peaches in heavy syrup, divided

  ⅓ cup vegetable oil

  2 eggs

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  ¼ cup sour cream

  1 (15.25-ounce) box yellow cake mix

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

  Lightly butter and flour a 10-inch Bundt pan. Drain 1 can of peaches and discard the syrup. Arrange peach slices evenly on the bottom of the Bundt pan and set aside. With an electric mixer, beat together oil, eggs, vanilla, sour cream and the remaining can of peaches with syrup and any leftover peaches from the first can. Add the cake mix and continue to beat the mixture until it’s smooth. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for approximately 1 hour, or until cooked through. Cool completely. After cooled, loosen cake from the sides of the pan and invert onto a cake plate.

  *Hattie’s version: For a little extra kick, Hattie likes to substitute the peach syrup in the batter with ¼ cup of Peach Jack or dark rum.

  Mrs. Purvis’s Peach Drop Cookies

  1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

  ½ cup granulated sugar

  1 egg

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1 teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon baking powder

  2¼ cups all-purpose flour

  1 cup peach preserves

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  Using an electric mixer, beat together butter and sugar in a large bowl. Add egg and vanilla and beat until smooth. Sift together salt, baking powder and flour and slowly add to butter and sugar mixture until a stiff dough forms. Roll dough into 1-inch balls and place on a cookie sheet. Use thumb or the tip of a spoon to make a small indent in the center of each ball. Using a spoon, drop a dollop of peach preserves in each indent. Bake cookies for 8–10 minutes or until they are slightly brown around the edges.

  Makes approximately 3 dozen cookies.

  Nola Mae’s Peach Hot Sauce

  6 fresh peaches, peeled and pitted

  4 habanero peppers—seed for a milder sauce, or leave in seeds for more heat (wear gloves when handling)

  ½ onion

  4 garlic cloves

  1 lime, juiced

  ¼ cup apple cider vinegar

  ½ cup water

  ¾ cup honey

  Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Transfer the mix to a pot and simmer on low heat for approximately one hour. Store leftover sauce in the refrigerator for up to one week.

  *Remember to wear gloves when handling peppers and refrain from touching eyes.

  This is a great sauce for spicy chicken wings. Nola coats her fully cooked chicken wings in sauce and serves them with ranch dressing and celery sticks. Yum.

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