Small Town Girl

by LaVyrle Spencer

  “She’ll be fine. She insists on walking in with her crutches, but we’re taking her wheelchair, too, and whenever she wants to come home I’ll bring her. She’s really done a remarkable job with her physical therapy. Never a complaint, no matter how it hurts. She’s so determined.”

  “Well … this is a different Tess from the one who said the first day that Momma was going to drive her nuts.”

  “I guess I just expected too much of her. And you’re right. She is getting old. I believe I’m finally accepting that.”

  “So tell me … do you still resent the fact that Judy and I railroaded you into coming home to take care of her?”

  “No, not anymore. At this point I think my record producer resents it more than I do.”

  “Well, listen, kid, it’s late and tomorrow’s going to be crazy.”

  “Sorry I kept you so long.”

  “One more thing. Have you been staying away from Kenny like I advised?”

  “Absolutely away.”

  “Good. See you at the wedding. I’ll be glad when it’s over and my life gets back to normal.”

  The weather on Saturday couldn’t have been more ideal. Eighty-three degrees and sunny when Tess was getting dressed. She’d bought a new outfit at Barney’s in New York, a midnight blue sheath, utterly simple, and matching sling-back faille pumps with a faint peppering of miniature blue rhinestones on the toes. At her neck she hung a platinum chain with a diamond-covered orb the size of a marble. On her ears were small sickle moons, also covered with real diamonds. Though she had carefully refrained from wearing anything that smacked of wealth or glamour since she’d been home, the wedding, she decided, was an occasion when a little glitz was permitted.

  The sheath fit more snugly than when she’d tried it on in New York. She sucked in her breath and pressed her belly. No more burgers and fries at the Sonic Drive-in, and you’d better start jogging every day or you’ll be up a size before you know it.

  When she walked into Mary’s bedroom, Mary stared.

  “Something wrong?” Tess asked, glancing down.

  “You’ve been running around here so long in your blue jeans and T-shirts that I forgot you’re actually a big-time star. My lord in heaven but you’re beautiful, child.”

  “Oh, Momma …”

  “No, you are. A regular sight for sore eyes. Are those real diamonds?”

  Tess touched her ear. “Are they too much?”

  “Ha. You just wear them. You earned them.”

  “Thanks, Momma.” The praise touched Tess deeply, especially Mary’s approval of the diamonds when Mary herself had never had any of her own beyond her worn wedding ring. Perhaps it was the prerogative of all mothers to want the best for their children but expect none of it for themselves.

  “You’ll have every man in the place eyeing you. And half the women, too.”

  “Well, what about you? Wait till we get that suit on you—you’ll see.”

  The suit was the color of light through a glass of crème de menthe and closed up the front with four satin frogs. Getting it on Mary took some effort, but together they managed. When the trousers were in place and the jacket was buttoned, Tess said, “I want to put some mascara on you, okay? Wait while I go get the kitchen stool.”

  There was an old-fashioned dressing table in Mary’s bedroom, part of the original bedroom set, but the stool for it was far too low. Tess went into the kitchen and got the white metal step stool and returned with it to the bedroom.

  “Oh, Tess, you don’t have to go through all that work for me,” her mother scolded.

  “No, we’re going to do this right. Come over here and sit down.”

  When Mary was seated before her mirror, Tess powdered her cheeks, brushed them with faint coral blusher and used a little color stick around her eyes. She had her blink across the mascara wand, then used lip liner and applied lipstick with a brush. Niki had done a commendable job, giving Mary a flattering hairstyle that took five years off her age. Her peachy gray hair lay in soft waves tipped up at the ends above her ears.

  “Now earrings. I have just the perfect ones.” Tess produced a small box of pale aqua, also purchased in New York, and handed it to her mother. When Mary read the single word embossed on the cover she lifted disbelieving eyes to Tess in the mirror.

  “Tiffany? Oh, Tess, what have you gone and done?”

  “Open it. Happy Mother’s Day a little early.”

  Inside the aqua box was another of black velvet. Mary lifted the lid to reveal a pair of teardrop earrings of emeralds surrounded by diamonds. Her eyes immediately began to well with tears.

  “Oh, Tess …”

  Standing behind Mary, Tess chafed her mother’s upper arms and smiled at her in the mirror. “Mustn’t ruin your new makeup job. Go ahead, put them on.”

  “But, Tess … these are—”

  “Yes, I know. But I can afford them, Momma, and since you won’t let me build you a new house you’ll have to take these instead.”

  Mary’s hands trembled with excitement as she lifted the gems to her ears. When the earrings were in place she stared at her reflection, her breath caught in her throat. She put a hand to her fluttering heart and whispered, “My word.”

  Tess bent down, put her head beside her mother’s and they studied their twin reflections in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, too, Momma.” At Mary’s ears the jewels caught the light from the small dressing table lamps and strewed it across the walls. But the change was wrought by more than the gems. It was everything—the fresh hairdo, the makeup, the elegant cut of the brushed silk and the glittering eyes of a seventy-four-year-old woman who found few occasions in her life that called for dressing up this much anymore. Tess felt the immense satisfaction of watching her mother believe she was beautiful again.

  Mary McPhail looked in the mirror and lit up with pleasure. “Thank you, Tess.” With their heads on the same level she reached up and touched Tess’s jaw lovingly, and Tess smiled at her one last time in the mirror.

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s go knock ‘em dead, eh, Ma?” Mary laughed, and Tess said, “I’m going to go switch the cars around and put your wheelchair in the trunk. Wait till I come back before you use those crutches on the back steps, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She left her mother gazing at herself in the mirror and whispering, “My word, I can’t believe this.”

  Tess hauled the folded wheelchair down the steps and pushed it down the bumpy back sidewalk. As she reached the car a couple of boys wearing bill caps backward on their heads came down the alley toward her, one of them bouncing a basketball. They slowed when they saw her unlocking the Z.

  “That your car?” one of them asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Cool.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You that country singer?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Coo-wull!”

  They hung around to watch her get in, start the engine and back the car up, then continued on their way up the alley, playing catch with the basketball. She got Mary’s car out, put hers away, opened her mother’s trunk and was getting ready to lift the wheelchair when Kenny opened his porch door and yelled, “Hey, Tess, wait! I’ll give you a hand with that!”

  He strode down the length of his backyard suited up for the wedding in a navy pin-striped suit while she waited beside the open trunk with the folded wheelchair. “You’re a lifesaver, Kenny. This thing’s heavy.” He stowed the chair and slammed the trunk.

  “There.” He turned, brushing his palms together.

  “Thanks.”

  “Can’t have you getting …” His eyes went down to her glistening toes and back up while his palms brushed slower and finally stopped. He never did finish the sentence.

  “Nice dress,” he said, more quietly.

  “Thanks. Nice suit. And that’s a Norman Rockwell print on your tie, isn’t it?”

  He glanced down. “Yes … thanks.”

  It took a w
hile before either of them spoke again.

  He certainly hadn’t bought his clothes in Wintergreen, nor had he any idea how his appearance made her blood rush. He knew how to tie a tie and match a tie to a suit and a suit to his body, and he knew how to fix his gaze upon a woman in a way that made her aware of all these things, deep down on a visceral level where she didn’t want to be aware.

  But if she was aware, he was, too, of his gut-deep sexual attraction to her, and of hers for him. In her silk, jewels and makeup, she stood before him for the first time as the woman he’d seen on the covers of magazines and on country awards shows on TV. Her dress with its simple lines made her look youthful and innocent. It did not cling, but flowed over her bones like the wind over her Z. Its neckline showed the barest hint of collarbones, its hem sliced her modestly at the knee. The diamonds at her ears glinted in the sunlight, and the orb that hung between her breasts looked the more stunning for resting against the rich, deep blue of the silk.

  They realized they’d been staring.

  Their glances shied away.

  “Well,” she said, “I’d better get back up to the house. Momma is waiting.”

  “Does she need any help?”

  “No, I don’t think so. All I can do is hold the door for her, but she’s got to negotiate the steps by herself.”

  In spite of her refusal, when she headed to the house he followed, watching her from behind.

  Her hosiery was the sheerest midnight blue. Her heels were high and accented the curve of her legs. As she walked he caught glimpses of the rhinestones on her toes, and snatches of an expensive perfume that he recognized from the night they’d ridden to choir practice together. A breeze pushed her dress from the left and he felt himself threatened by the certainty that before she went back to Nashville they would continue what she’d started in the car that night in the rainstorm.

  They reached the house and Tess went inside while he waited on the step. Momentarily she reappeared, coming out first to hold the screen door open for Mary, who stumped over the threshold on crutches and paused, smiling, pleased.

  From three steps below her Kenny took one look and exclaimed, “Lord o’ mercy, look at you!” His admiration was so genuine it made a blank of his face.

  “Hi, Kenny,” the old woman said almost girlishly.

  He smiled so broadly that Tess wanted to kiss him. If Mary could have spun in a circle she would have done so. As it was, she clung to her crutches while he gaped. “Tess took me over. What do you think?”

  “I think if I were twenty years older I’d fall head over heels in love! Come to think of it, I might anyway.”

  Kenny rained all his admiration on Mary, who, unmistakably, blushed. She looked like a woman reborn as she headed down the steps with Tess hovering solicitously. One on either side of Mary, she and Kenny escorted her to the car. He opened the back door and waited patiently while she fitted herself inside. When she was arranged on her pillows, he put the crutches on the floor and slammed the door, then walked Tess around to the driver’s side and opened the door for her, watching as her legs folded and swung out of sight.

  Holding the door open, he asked, “Will you be okay getting her into the church?”

  “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

  She looked up and for a moment they became enmeshed in the illusion they were husband and wife, helping Mary as they had, loving her as they did, loved by her as they were. Even the way he’d escorted Tess to her side and was waiting to slam the door, enhanced the illusion. They realized they were pretending, and he came to his senses first. “Well … I’d better go see if I can light a fire under Casey. You know how girls are when they’re dressing up. See you later.”

  He slammed the door and she admitted to herself that no matter what she’d promised Renee, she and Kenny were treading a fine line between common sense and a move that would create impending disorder in their lives. It seemed highly likely that before this night was out, they would set that disorder in motion.

  Kenny and Tess sat on the same side of the aisle but she was ushered up front with the other family members. He was seated a few rows back. The wedding was typical small town: the organ was too loud, the singer projected in a piercing soprano, the four-year-old ring bearer veered off the center aisle when he saw his mother, and a baby fussed intermittently from one of the back pews.

  Mary walked up the aisle on her crutches, then sat in her wheelchair with the footrests lowered to their limits. Afterward Ed pushed her out of the church, while Tess followed with Judy.

  The bride received less scrutiny than Tess. For Tess, occasions like this were uncomfortable yet heady: people staring as she passed, whispering to those beside them; avid fans beaming overtly, hoping she’d smile their way while she kept her eyes fixed on the exit doors. The exception was when she passed Kenny. He, Casey and Faith snared one pew like a regular all-American family. Casey waggled her fingers when Tess walked past. Faith smiled. Kenny only watched her with those disconcerting brown eyes that had admired her in the alley less than two hours before.

  Mary was part of the receiving line in the vestibule, leav ing Tess free to join the crowd outside. The wind had come up to relieve the afternoon heat, and great white cloud puffs scuttled along the blue backdrop. A black carriage and two Appaloosa horses waited at the curb. Judy fell away to visit with someone she knew. Even those who pretended not to be staring at Tess were. But not one soul approached.

  Not until Casey came out of church. She made a beeline straight for Tess, exclaiming, “Wow, you look awesome, woman! Where’d you get that dress? And those shoes!”

  “Casey, am I glad to see you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tess leaned close and lowered her voice. “I was feeling like a turd in the punchbowl. Everybody looking but nobody coming close.”

  Casey giggled and glanced around to find many people standing off, watching the two of them.

  “They’re probably scared. Hey, these clothes … woman! You can’t find anything like that in Wintergreen.”

  “The dress came from Barney’s in New York. The shoes are from Nordstrom’s in Seattle.”

  “Killer!“ Casey came close, and whispered, “Don’t tell Faith, but I think Dad was staring at you all through the service.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “He was, too, but I bet you’re used to guys doing that, aren’t you?”

  “I’d be lying if I said no, but some situations are more comfortable than others. This one isn’t. Stick around, okay?”

  Faith approached and commandeered both of Tess’s hands. “Well, hello, Tess. Heavens, you look stunning.”

  “Thank you. Doesn’t everybody?”

  Kenny was right behind Faith, attempting to pretend polite indifference to Tess. Their glances settled elsewhere. “Wasn’t it a nice ceremony?” Faith prattled on. “I thought for sure you’d sing today.”

  “Rachel asked me to but I told her I just wanted to be a regular guest this time.”

  “I’m sure she was disappointed.”

  “She was very gracious about it.”

  They made small talk until Judy rejoined them, along with Judy’s daughter, Tricia, who brought a tall, thin, pretty girl with hazel eyes. “Aunt Tess? My friend Allison wants to meet you. She’s a big fan of yours.”

  Tess shook the girl’s trembling, damp hand. “Hello, Allison.”

  She was one of the shy ones, blushing furiously, trying hard not to show her braces. In the end she failed and a set of blaze-pink hardware flashed clearly behind her wide smile. She stammered what thousands of others before her had stammered, things like “Gosh, I can’t believe I’m really meeting you,” and “You’re so pretty,” and “I couldn’t believe you were really Trish’s aunt.” All the while Judy stood by, observing with the same uppitiness as that day at the hospital. Kenny stood back observing, too, behind Faith, making Tess self-conscious in a whole new peculiar way that made her proud of being a star but wishing that today she
were not. For this one day she wished she were just a nondescript girl free to flirt with a guy who sort of turned her on. Instead, every move she made was watched by dozens.

  The crowd around her grew, cutting her off from her family and taking snapshots without asking if she minded. Someone requested an autograph and she murmured, “Not right now. The bride and groom will be coming out soon.” An overweight woman in a polka-dot dress barreled over, and blared, “Mac McPhail, my Gawd, it’s really you! Oh, honey, could I shake your hand?” As if that were not enough, she insisted on giving Tess a hug. Hugs often left makeup on her shoulder and flattened one side of her hair. Of all the fan responses she disliked, getting hugged was the most invasive. Over the fat woman’s shoulder she caught Kenny’s eye and shot him an expression of hopeless resignation, to which he replied with a sympathetic wince. After that she didn’t see him again. The crowd circled, and—like it or not—she found herself the center of attention.

  When the last of the wedding guests spilled from church, she caught sight of Kenny wheeling Mary down the ramp leading from the side door of the vestibule. The bride and groom emerged into the wind, which made a parachute of her veil. She clapped a hand to her head to hold it on while birdseed flew and the church bells clamored overhead. Then Casey appeared at Tess’s side.

  “Dad’s taking your mom to her car. He says take your time.”

  “What happened to Ed?”

  “Tricia had to pour punch so he had to take her ahead to the reception hall.”

  “Where’s Faith?”

  “She’s right over there talking to her sister. Listen, I’m taking off. See you at the reception!”

  She was gone with her friends and minutes later Tess moved toward the parking lot where she found Kenny standing beside Mary’s car waiting for her. Mary was already installed in the backseat with the door still open. It was a relief to speak to him directly at last.