Four of a Kind: A women's historical fiction (44 page)

“I passed. That’s why we have all this. We’re celebrating!” She gave him a smile of expectation.

He looked to me for explanation. “We got the letter today from the school,” I said. “Mary Sue passed her exams and is entering into seventh grade next month.”

“Ahhh!” He gave her a wide smile. “I knew you could do it, little one. Piece of cake! Speaking of which, I do hope we have cake to celebrate.”

“Yeah, but I had to make it,” Mary Sue said in her pitiful tone.

“You volunteered to make it,” I said as calm as possible.

Thomas lowered his brows at me and continued serving the pork. “Then I bet it is delicious. Remind your Uncle Thomas to give you a big bear hug before I go.”

She jumped up and hurried around the table to him. “I’ll give you one now.” Her thin arms wrapped around his neck, her head to his shoulder, and she remained there. Thomas seemed at a loss as to what to do but soon dropped the serving utensils and patted her back awkwardly. “There, there, that is a good little girl.”

Lizzie and I watched this demonstration carefully. We both understood her neediness by now, but she was a woman just the same. Lizzie’s thick lips protruded in thought, hesitated to say something, then pinched closed. Instead, she chose to rock herself gently and hum a gospel tune as she was in habit of doing in troublesome times, this time it was,
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

At last Thomas unwrapped Mary Sue’s arms. “Soon we’ll be feeding a new beau. Boys will come flocking, you’ll see.” She stood by his side waiting for more. He handed her a plate with a serving of pork. “Sit down, little one, and I’ll give you a toast.”

He held up his glass of iced tea and we followed suite. “To Mary Sue. A young lady who is going to prove to all those Tennessee hillbilly boys that she can out-smart them. The learning she’ll take back and share with others will be immeasurable. We need more schools and more teachers. My favorite author, Mark Twain said, ‘Every time you stop a school, you will have to build a jail. What you gain at one end you lose at the other. It’s like feeding a dog on his own tail. It won’t fatten the dog.’ Here’s to a future feeder of knowledge and a future teacher of Tennessee.”

We all took a drink. He continued. “And while I’m on this subject, I wish to give a toast to our present teacher, Miss Pickering. Again to steal a Mark Twain quote, ‘It is noble to teach oneself, but still nobler to teach others – and less trouble.’ Here’s to a noble woman who served Mary Sue well.”

I gave the “less trouble” a mock frown but in fact appreciated Thomas’ celebratory toast. A thank you from Mary Sue would’ve
been nice but she only sat with her eyes glued to Thomas as if gold dropped from his lips and she was the gold digger. All the more reason to proceed with my plan – it’s not my fault he came in too late to ask permission.

“I have – or rather we have – another announcement, don’t we Thomas?” I reached over and squeezed his wrist.

His forehead creased in thought and his knife and fork paused in mid-air. Seeming to suddenly understand, his face smoothed and he shook his head. “No, we haven’t discussed an announcement.” His eyes remained focused on the plate.

“But Thomas dear, the event is only two weeks away.”

“As you like.” He waved his knife around the table. “Give them the news.”

“Thomas and I are going to be married,” I said. “We’ve set the date for Christmas Day.”

“Praise be!” cackled Lizzie. “I’ve been praying for this news for the longest.” She placed her hands together as in prayer and looked up to her heaven. “Thank you, sweet Jesus.”

“You’re happy about this,” Thomas said. “Don’t you deny it, Lizzie. You’re as fine as a frog’s hair, as my pappy used to say.”

“Yes, sir, I am. I don’t love a heap o’ people, but I love the two of you, so I can die now knowing you’ll look after each other. I can’t stay here forever.”

“You don’t talk like the niggers back home do,” Mary Sue said.

Thomas’ eating utensils clattered to his plate.
Ignorant girl, to say this in front of Thomas!

He pointed two fingers at Mary Sue, his index and middle finger, previously saved only for reporters bungling a story. “I hope I never hear you say that in my presence again. Understood?” Mary Sue had finally noticed his lowered eyebrows and an angry flash of green eyes. Good!

Lizzie waved her hand toward her as if to say it didn’t matter, but her eyes snapped in their own fiery way. “No, but honey chile I shore have seen right smart of doze niggers, but dez not brought up by good white folk like me. Yes’m Thomas’ wife Cady, God rest
her soul, teached me how to read and do de ‘rithmetic and how to talk right, and now I knowed who’s white trash and who’s ain’t, and I’s not shore which I’s lookin’ at right chere, but I’s be ‘spectin you to watch yer mouth or I’s wash it fer you.”

Silence. I had never heard Lizzie use such Negro slang but she spewed it fast, like the expressions were right under the surface. It became clear to me why she normally chose her words carefully and spoke slowly.

Mary Sue’s eyes darted between Lizzie and Thomas. Her head nodded to both, her frame hunkered down from the scolding. This was going off track. What was important here tonight was that she understood that Thomas and I were to be married. I cleared my throat. “Thomas, I have a proposal to make concerning the location of our wedding ceremony.”

“Justice of the peace is all that is necessary.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and scooted away from his unfinished plate, his appetite obviously gone.

“Of course, Thomas, the ceremony doesn’t need to be more than that, but I wish for my parents to be there. I’m their first daughter to be married and –”

He shrugged his shoulders. “So they can come.”

“They can’t, Thomas. Papa is bed-ridden. That’s why I wish to get married in Papa’s bedroom.”

He frowned at me and I sensed he did not like this discussion in front of others but I wanted our plans laid out, in front of Mary Sue. I wanted her to see our impending future as husband and wife and our love for one another. I had hoped, however, for a little more fervor and warmth from him to carry this out. I smiled to mask my growing uneasiness, silently blaming Mary Sue for switching the mood from praise to disapproval.

“Your papa’s bedroom,” he repeated slowly as if hearing it from himself would register in his brain. His index finger tapped the table in an irritating manner.

“Yes, Thomas, the bedroom is fairly large. Lizzie, certainly you are invited, and Mary Sue. My sister, of course. My brother, Victor,
although he and I rarely see each other. My aunt Opal and uncle Jesse might wish—”

“That’s enough.” Thomas leaned toward me and likely read the alarm in my eyes. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled gradually. “Keep it short. Your parents, Lizzie, Mary Sue if she wants to, that’s it.” I felt chilled with his words and he felt this, too, when he took one of my cold hands. He looked into my eyes and held them there, intense and searching. He found what he was looking for because his eyes softened and he rubbed my hand between his own to warm my fingers. “If it makes you happy, then we’ll be married in your papa’s bedroom. But in the future, you will kindly refrain from such discussions with an audience, until we have settled it in private. Agreed?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Now we have two witnesses to our commitment to one another. There’s no backing out now for either one of us. I’ll contact Judge Jacobs tomorrow to see—”

“Well, that’s the other thing, Thomas. Papa wants Preacher Paul from his church to marry us.”

He blinked in slow motion, annoyance clearly there. “He insulted my wife at the Women’s Rights Convention.”

For goodness sake, that was ten years ago
! “Thomas, please. It matters a great deal to Papa.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Yes. I’d like you to wear your white linen suit. You look quite handsome in it.”

He backed against his chair to glimpse Lizzie across from me. “Lizzie, don’t worry about that cake now. There’s enough sweetness in here as it is. I don’t think you and Mary Sue can take much more.”

I had to agree. Mary Sue had grown pale, her eyes wide as if watching a play with a sad ending.

He bent forward so close, his breath moved my hair. “Then give me some sugar.”

“Well, how much do you need? I have a few dollars put away but is this like a dowry—”

Lizzie’s cackle blended with Thomas’ chuckle.

“I’m not talking about money, honey, I’m talking about a good ol’ southern kiss. If we’re going to make a public display of our devotion, then we must publicly seal it with a kiss.”

I had not planned for this. I backed away.

“Oh so now you wish to be clandestine?” He pulled my shoulders forward and planted a hard kiss to my lips. “Let’s move on with it, then!”

Lizzie stood up and gathered the plates. “This will be like the old days in this house. Love doves have come back to roost. We can never have too much sugar. No, never.”

Preacher Paul refused to marry us. Ever on duty, he preached to me during our telephone conversation that he’d heard “things” and that he’d never join a divorced woman with another man other than her first husband, it was against God’s Word – I cut him off with an I-understand, and hung up the receiver. Fine. I didn’t like him and his watery eyes either. I obviously had remained a “she-devil” as he had preached from the pulpit and in Mama’s parlor when I was young. I had hoped he would think that, with Thomas, I had seen the error of my ways and finally was settling down with a shepherd who could lead me onto the righteous path.

Thomas looked relieved and immediately asked Judge Jacobs.

All was rushed and set and I had little to do with a ceremony that seemed to have a mind of its own. Too late I began questioning the setting – whilst standing in my parents’ bedroom in my white skirt and jacket. When in the company of my parents, I vowed never to marry. Now I must vow in reverse and in the same bedroom where I’d overheard Papa abusing Mama when I was eleven. I must’ve lost my mind in agreeing to this.

In these surroundings, any matter of formality or ceremonious garnish like flower bouquets, were not only frivolous but foolish. Poor Pearl had bought me just such a bouquet but I pinched off the Christmas-red carnations and pinned these to the lapels of the
wedding party, totaling eight. Mama and Pearl were our witnesses, Papa, Lizzie, and Mary Sue our only guests as a compromise to Thomas, although I questioned silently Lizzie’s presence as a guest. Victor, Aunt Opal and Uncle Jesse would likely never forgive us.

The swiftness of the ceremony itself hinted of my previous one in Nashville and I prayed that the lack of preparation hadn’t doomed this one. Doubts swished around in my head - an advertisement popped into my thoughts as we gathered at the foot of Papa’s bed.
Tired of your marriage standing stagnate in a pool of water? Swish your worries away with an electric washing machine!
I smiled, as one must when going loony in the mind. I could only hope that this new road I had stepped on was paved as Thomas had wished all roads to be, and not pitted and bumpy as I knew mine had been.

Thomas slipped a new gold band onto my finger and I looked into his eyes skeptically. He returned my searching stare with a trusting gaze and a warmhearted smile. His warmth removed my clouds of doubt. He wore his white linen suit and looked oh so endearingly proverbial yet he spoke words I’d never heard him speak, promises that would last to our deaths. He seemed somehow out of the ordinary, holier, and I in my plain skirt was in danger of worshipping him. I repeated my vows, first spoken to Jere, but this time their significance caught in my throat and quivered my voice. My papa propped on top of the bedspread in his brown-suit and my mama standing with her hands clasped in front, wearing her ages-old cream and lace dress, disappeared as I focused on my new love. And yet this love had been ageless, years coming from an old friend. As I slipped the gold ring onto his finger, I marveled at the light freckles sprinkled on his hand, the ring’s symbolism and his touch, personal and possessive.

It was done. He was given permission to kiss the bride. He did so with no embarrassing flushes on the bride’s part, but only an inward glow and an outward willingness to move on with it then.