by Debby Mayne
“Let’s go,” Pete says. “C’mon, Laura.”
I touch Patrick on the arm. “Are you sure my young’uns are okay?”
“Positive. We wouldn’t still be standin’ here if they weren’t.”
“Give me a second to let someone know where we’re going.”
And I know just who to tell. Priscilla. When push comes to shove, she’s the most responsible person in the entire room.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she says. “Call me later and let me know how everything went.”
I take off after Patrick and Pete. “We’ll be right behind you,” I say.
Patrick turns around and looks me in the eye. “You are driving, right, Mrs. Moss?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Just makin’ sure.”
All the way to the sheriff’s Piney Point office, Pete grumbles about how the young’uns can’t be trusted. “I can’t believe Bubba would take all the kids on a joy ride when we’re gone.”
In my mind, I blame Pete for teaching Bubba how to drive so early, but I don’t say that now. It’s already bad enough knowing his truck’s been all smashed up.
As soon as we walk into the reception area, Bubba leans over and puts his face in his hands. Jack sits on the edge of the chair, his face pale, eyes wide. Both girls hover in the corner, sitting all close and snuggly as though they’re depending on each other for life. Funny how they hate each other except when they’re in trouble together. There is something about bad stuff happening to draw you closer.
Pete marches right up to Bubba and stands there staring down. Bubba doesn’t look up. Instead, he keeps his head lowered, but I see his leg shaking and his hands dripping with sweat.
“Bubba.” Pete’s voice is low and firm. “Look at me, son.”
Bubba’s leg stops moving as he slowly lifts his head. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Didn’t mean to do what?”
“I don’t know.” Bubba’s whiny voice reminds me of when he was four and upset when I caught him eating ice cream out of the carton in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“Are you sayin’ you didn’t mean to steal my truck or you didn’t mean to get caught?”
Bubba bursts into a crying jag. I’m tempted to go over to him, put my arms around him, and tell him everything will be okay. But I don’t because everything won’t be okay. I’ve always had a tough time making my young’uns behave, but until recently, I trusted them to do the right thing. Between Bonnie Sue stealing that skirt from the shop and now Bubba taking off with his daddy’s truck without permission, I realize we have much more serious issues than the little squabbles and temper tantrums we’ve dealt with since they were born.
Pete looks down at me, his eyes filled with emotion like I’ve never seen. “Why don’t you go see about the girls, and I’ll have a talk with the boys?”
I nod. Pete has never offered to deal with anything related to the young’uns, except when it’s playtime. Maybe this is the Lord’s way of waking my husband up to his parental responsibilities.
Renee turns her entire body away when I approach them, but Bonnie Sue looks me squarely in the eye. “You shouldn’t have left Bubba in charge. He’s nothin’ but a troublemaker.”
My little smart-aleck daughter has hit a nerve. “What do you think you’re talkin’ about, Bonnie Sue? Seems I remember you thinkin’ you can help yourself to a five-finger discount.”
She shrugs. “That’s all in the past. Priscilla Slater took care of that for me. She’s a celebrity around here, and she can do anything.”
I grit my teeth and count to ten. “Priscilla Slater is more than just a celebrity,” I say in a low growl. “She has worked hard for everything she has, including all those fancy salons. You owe her big-time.”
Bonnie Sue’s eyes go into half-mast position as she bobs her head. “She told me I don’t have to do nothin’.” This town is full of bobbleheads.
“Priscilla’s not your mama. I am. I’m gonna have a talk with her and tell her you’re workin’ off all she did for you.”
“Work?” Bonnie Sue says that word like it’s disgusting.
“That’s right. Work. I just happen to know they could use someone to help clean up between customers, and I think you’re just the one to do it.”
“But Mama—” She looks me in the eye and shakes her head as she lowers it.
“That’ll teach ya to press your luck with me and your daddy. Now you’ll think twice before gettin’ in the car with someone who shouldn’t be drivin’. And next time I hear about you stealin’ . . . ” I shudder. “You don’t wanna know what I’ll do.” I turn to Renee, who has been discretely watching out of the corner of her eye. “And you, young lady . . . ”
Renee holds her hands up. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
“Except get in the car with your brother who don’t think about the consequences.”
“He told us to come on.”
“Oh, so all someone has to say is ‘come on,’ and you’ll do whatever they want you to do?”
She slinks back in the seat. “No.”
“You’re all grounded for a month.” I step back so I can look both of my daughters in the eye. “You can go to school and church, and that’s it. No more goin’ out with friends, no nothin’ for a month.”
“But Mama,” Bonnie Sue whines. “I’m a cheerleader.”
“It’s summer.” I lift an eyebrow and hold her gaze, until she finally backs down and looks away. “We’ll see how you behave this summer before I decide if you can try out for cheerleading again.”
“I have band camp,” Renee reminds me.
This one’s hard for me. I’ve been lookin’ forward to band camp for months ’cause it’s an organized event sponsored by the school, and that’s one less bored kid to deal with during the summer. But I have to stay strong.
“No band camp this summer, missy.” My stomach hurts as I say the words, but I know it’s for her own good.
“But I ha—” She scowls. “It don’t start ’til July.”
“We’ll see about it then,” I say.
Renee joins her sister in sulking and acting all put out. I glance over my shoulder and see Pete kneeling down by the boys, their heads lowered. Could they be . . . praying? Nah, Pete only prays when I tell him to. I take a step back so I can hear what he’s saying. Well, I’ll be. They are praying. Lord, you sure do have an interestin’ way of gettin’ folks’ attention.
We have to fill out some paperwork before they let us go. Finally, an hour later, we’re on our way home.
“Don’t y’all have to go back to the reunion?” Jack asks. Seems he’s the only one of the four who’s still talking to Pete and me.
“Nope. We’re not leavin’ you young’uns home alone again for a very long time.” Pete glances over at me. “Y’all have to prove we can trust you again. Right now I don’t trust any of you any farther than I can throw you.”
Little Jack laughs but quickly quiets down when his siblings give him dirty looks. The rest of the trip home is quiet.
As soon as we walk in the door, Bubba heads for the living room and grabs the remote. Pete points to it. “Put that thing down, son, and go to your room.”
“But, Daddy.”
“Nope. All four of you, go to your rooms. Your mama and I have some things to discuss.”
The firmness in his voice is so rare the kids don’t know what to say. I’m stunned as I watch them head off to their rooms without another argument.
Once they’re gone, Pete pulls me into his arms. “When was the last time I told you I love you, Miss Pudge?”
Back in the day when he first called me Miss Pudge after I put on a few pounds, I was highly offended. But tonight, as he embraces me so tenderly, I actually find comfort in the familiar. I rest my head on his chest, and he gently strokes my back, letting me know we’re in this together.
“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll even take you to my cousin’s weddin’.�
� He leans away and grins at me. “I know how much you wanna go. And I think it might be good to connect with some of the family we haven’t seen in a while.”
Is it possible he’s actually turned over a new leaf? I don’t remember him ever being this agreeable to seeing Uncle Snub before.
I sigh as I close my eyes and imagine the fairy-tale wedding we’re about to attend. I wonder if my pink lacy dress still fits.
36
Priscilla
Your phone has been ringin’ like crazy,” Celeste says as she lifts my handbag from beneath the table and thrusts it at me. “It must be important.”
Jimmy holds up his phone and shows me the back of it. “You oughta get one of these here belt clips so you don’t miss your calls.”
“I’ll think about it.” I take my bag and go into the ladies’ room, where the noise from Zeke and the Geeks doesn’t sound nearly as bad as it does in front of the speakers. When I look at the phone, I see it’s from the Moss residence.
I dread the very thought of calling Laura back. Shortly after she and Pete took off, word had reached us about her children going for a joy ride and getting into an accident. According to the source who just happened to overhear Patrick Moody talking to Laura and Pete, no one was seriously injured.
Instead of calling them back, I check my voice mail. Surprise. Laura isn’t the one who called. It was Bonnie Sue.
“Priscilla . . . I mean Ms. Slater, you really have to talk to my mama. She got real mad at me and my sister and brothers just ’cause we went for a little ride in Daddy’s truck. We planned on comin’ back before they got home, but Bubba was too busy fiddlin’ with the radio to see the tree. I’m innocent. Honest. Me and little Jack was sittin’ in the backseat mindin’ our own business . . . ” Click.
I punch the number to listen to the next voice mail. “Sorry. I thought I heard Mama at the door. Mama and Daddy’s so mad they’re not even yellin’ like they always do. We’re not allowed to go anywhere for a whole month. Not even Renee, and she’s supposed to go to band camp. If she don’t go, they won’t let her be in the marchin’ band next year. You’re the only one . . . ” Click.
I sigh as I press the number for another message. “That time it really was Mama, but she went back downstairs. Please talk to Mama. You’re our only hope, on account of you’re famous and all. Maybe she’ll listen to you. Even Daddy’s mad, and he never gets mad.”
This is ridiculous. I don’t even bother listening to the rest of the message since it’s all about getting Bonnie Sue off the hook. I’ve always known having children was a tremendous responsibility, but the Moss kids have shown me how frustrating the parenting job can be. I’m not sure I have, or ever will have, the patience for it.
I spot Tim out of the corner of my eye and think about how supportive he’s been. He turns and catches me watching him, and he waves.
This reunion has a completely different feel to it. There are fewer people, and everyone has mellowed out a bit. Of course, I mean everyone but Didi. I always considered her very book-smart, but she’s never had much common sense, which, until now didn’t matter. I wonder if she and Maurice actually will get married or if she’ll remain in a state of limbo while he sucks her bank account dry.
Looking around, I think about all the people in the cafeteria, who are either engrossed in discussions with old friends, running around trying to network, or slow dancing to something that only vaguely resembles music. The only surprise I see is Trudy draped over Hank, swaying to the sound, occasionally lifting her head for a kiss. Michael isn’t here yet, and I wonder if he comes, what he’ll think about his ex-wife cozying up to the class nerd.
“Kinda makes you wanna go back to the high school days, don’t it?” I turn around and see Tim.
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “More like makes me want to run away and never come back.”
“Aw, c’mon, Priscilla. It’s not so bad. Everyone’s doin’ their own thing, havin’ a good time, chillin’ to the music.”
“Music?” I laugh, and he smiles as he offers his hand.
“Care to dance, pretty girl?”
“Sure.” I take his hand and follow him out to the makeshift dance floor, where there are only two other couples.
Tim is a good dancer, but even he has trouble finding the beat. Finally, he just steps back and forth, and I follow.
“So are you still gonna go to New York City?” Tim whispers.
“Yes.”
“Uncle Hugh wants me to come up for a visit.” Tim straightens his arms, holding me at a distance so he can look me in the eye. “Maybe we can work somethin’ out to see each other while we’re there.”
I smile and refrain from mentioning that we see each other as much as we want to in Mississippi. No point in risking hurting his feelings right now.
Celeste comes up and taps me on the shoulder. “Me and Jimmy wanna wrap this thing up on time, this bein’ our weddin’ night and all.”
“Okay.”
I look at Tim who winks at me before turning to Celeste. “Y’all can go on and leave now if you want. Me and Priscilla can take care of everything.”
Celeste ponders that and shakes her head. “Nah, I don’t think Laura would want me to do that. She’s countin’ on me to make sure things run smoothly, and the caterer is supposed to come take all her stuff outta here before we leave.”
Tim starts to argue, but I squeeze his arm. He gives me a puzzled look, and I shake my head. He finally sighs and says, “Okay, we’ll help make sure everyone’s out on time.”
Celeste smiles and wanders on back to her new husband who still appears stunned. I look up into Tim’s eyes. “I sure hope everything works out for them.”
“I’m sure it will, once Jimmy gets used to the fact that he’s a married man.” Tim chuckles. “I just think it’s funny he couldn’t think of no other way to cheer her up last night.”
Maybe that’s for the best. Other couples, including Trudy and Michael, and my parents, planned their lives together for years, and now look at them.
37
Trudy
Hank has his arms around me so tight I can hardly breathe. I’m still not sure what Marlene saw in him, but I aim to find out if it takes me forever. As of right now, though, I can’t get past the point that I’m hugging on the guy my husband used to make fun of back in high school for being so nerdy.
Don’t get me wrong. I was never mean to him, but when it was just me and Michael, we would laugh at the comments that came out of Hank’s mouth, his joy from the robotics team winning the regional championship, and of course the calculator he never went anywhere without. Now I’m trying my hardest to find some common ground.
“What did you and Marlene used to talk about?” I ask when the song ends.
He looks at me with those soulful eyes I never noticed until a few days ago. “Why do you keep asking questions about Marlene?”
I shrug. “I just wanna make sure you’re over her before anything happens . . . well, before you and I start . . . ”
“Don’t you worry about that.” Hank grins at me. “I’m completely over her. She’s a sweet girl, but truthfully, she was always second to you in my heart.”
That’s really sweet, but it still doesn’t change the way I’m feeling. Or more like it, not feeling.
“Marlene is so pretty . . . ” I look at Hank and force a smile. “And she got all the way to second runner-up in the Miss Mississippi pageant. I didn’t even make the top five.”
He brushes the bangs back from my forehead, and I shake my head to put them back into place. I spent good money on this wispy look, and I don’t want him messing it up.
“Seriously, Trudy, you worry too much about things like that. If I were one of the judges, you would have been Miss Mississippi.”
I have no doubt he’s telling me how he really feels, and I want to take it as a compliment, but it’s hard knowing his history. “Thank you.”
He reaches toward my bangs again, and I back aw
ay. “Please don’t mess with my hair. I hate people touching it.”
A look of dejection flashes on his face. “There are so many things I still don’t know about you. In all the years I’ve been watching you and thinking I’d never stand a chance of getting this close to you because of Michael, I didn’t realize you didn’t like people touching your hair.”
I bite my lip to fight the tears that threaten to fall. It’s not that I don’t like people touching my hair. I used to love it when Michael would run his fingers through my hair and pull it away from my face so he could see me better. It’s Hank that I don’t want messing with my hair.
“But now that we’re getting to know each other better, we can take our time to learn what we like and don’t like.”
“Don’t forget, Hank, I live in Atlanta, and since I work in retail, I can’t get away very often.”
“That’s okay. I just closed a deal on another company that has offices in all the major cities, including Atlanta.”
I should be flattered that Hank, who has turned his geekiness into a thriving business empire, is interested in me. But every now and then, I glance over at the spot where Michael and I used to eat lunch together—at least when he wasn’t sitting with his football player friends. Maybe if I see Hank in a less familiar setting, I’ll feel different. Yeah, that’s gotta be the problem. Alan is just as geeky as Hank, yet I was able to get past that and consider a relationship—at least after seeing Marlene bein’ so interested in Hank. I’ve even heard from some of the teenage girls I help at the store that geek is the new cool.
“Can we leave now?” I look up at Hank, who still has a dreamy look in his eyes. I wish he didn’t adore me so much. I know, that’s what I say I want from a guy, but deep down, I think I must enjoy a challenge, which Michael definitely was. I wish I could stop comparing everyone to Michael, but being around all my old classmates reminds me of how things used to be.
“Sure.” He grins. “Would you like to go over to my place in Hattiesburg?”