A Piggly Wiggly Christmas (5 page)

On the way back into town, Gaylie Girl was having trouble letting go of what appeared to be their first setback, reviewing the entire conversation with Brother Thompson in her head. “I can’t see that we did anything to warrant his negative reaction, do you, girls?”

Novie answered first from the driver’s seat, revving up her voice a notch to be heard. “Don’t even think of blaming yourself, Gaylie Girl. He’s the one with the problem!”

“I agree,” Laurie continued. “I was obviously wrong about the grudge thing. Looks like he still resents Mr. Choppy’s victory over Mr. Floyce.”

Gaylie Girl’s sigh was tinged with defiance. “I can tell you that Hale has no intention of buying off the people of Second Creek the way Mr. Floyce did. He campaigned and won on an ethical approach to the office, and he intends to stick to it.”

“That’s why we all voted for him,” Laurie added. “It’s way more than a stretch that anyone, black or white, would take offense at singing Christmas carols from a balcony because of the Jim Crow laws of the past. That’s probably the weakest excuse for saying no that I’ve ever heard. I think it’s playing the civil rights card in a way that’s an insult to the civil rights movement. From what you’ve told me, Brother Thompson just didn’t want to come right out and tell you the real reason. Fact is, he knows good and well that our Mr. Choppy cooked the goose that laid the golden egg.”

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any longer. Because all is not lost,” Gaylie Girl said with a renewed energy. “Hale told me last night that we were quite likely to have success with the Reverend Quintus Payne of the Marblestone Alley Church of Holiness, who supported him enthusiastically in the election. I can’t imagine that Reverend Payne won’t want to have his choir raising their voices to heaven on Christmas Eve.”

“Then let’s head on out, Novie!” Laurie proclaimed. “But please, dear, no pedal to the metal!”

The reception the Nitwitts encountered at the quaint Marblestone Alley Church of Holiness across town could not have been more cordial. Reverend Quintus Payne greeted the three ladies at the door of Holiness Hall with all the gentlemanly ardor his lanky frame could muster. Once inside the white-clapboard and green-shuttered building, they were escorted to a dining room full of tempting aromas and what looked like a welcoming committee.

“Ladies,” Reverend Payne began, “I’d like you to meet our choirmistress, Mrs. Vergie Woods, our organist, Miss Saleesha Patton, and my assistant pastor, Reverend Thaddeus Jefferson.”

It took a minute or two for the completion of all the handshakes and perfunctory smiles that normally accompany introductions, but soon everyone was sitting around one of the tables discussing the details of Caroling in The Square. It was Mrs. Woods, a voluptuous vision in purple from head to toe, who quickly offered the most dramatic response.

“I think y’all must’ve read my mind. Why, over the summer I believe I went to Reverend Payne here and told him I’d been prayin’ we could come up with some sorta Christmas event in The Square to get people downtown and in the spirit of the season, didn’t I, Reverend?”

“You did for a fact, Vergie. That’s why I wanted all y’all to hear out Miz Dunbar and the rest of these ladies today, since it seems like your prayers’ve been answered. But you know, that’s not unusual for Second Creek. I think many of us who live here are in tune with each other, no matter what our different backgrounds are.”

Gaylie Girl matched Mrs. Woods’s enthusiasm with her own. “My husband has told me before about your Second Creek solutions, and he also said we’d likely find an audience here for our project. I’m also supposed to remind you again how much he appreciated having the support of so many of your church members in the recent election.”

“Mayor Dunbar’s a good man,” Reverend Payne added, puffing himself up. “For true, I did endorse him from the pulpit, which I rarely do. But I see I wasn’t mistaken in my judgment. He’s already done some good things in the short time he’s been in office. We needed new blood to run this town, and we got it now. As for this caroling event, Miz Dunbar, Miz Woods will cooperate with y’all in any way you need. We intend to have the Marblestone Alley Church of Holiness well represented on Christmas Eve.”

“You and our secretary must huddle before we leave, Mrs. Woods,” Gaylie Girl said, gesturing toward Novie. “But meanwhile, I just have to ask someone or I’ll explode from curiosity. What is that heavenly aroma that’s been filling this room from the moment we walked in?”

Reverend Payne chuckled richly and pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “That’s my wife, Yolie, back there makin’ her famous bread pudding for a bake sale we’re havin’ tonight. Matter a’ fact, I think I can arrange to get you a little taste, and if you like it, you can take some back to the Mayor with our compliments.”

Gaylie Girl demurred without thinking. “Oh, you must let me pay you. I’d like to contribute to the bake sale.”

“Nonsense. My Yolie always makes plenty extra. Let’s get y’all on back there for some samplin’ and see what you think.”

Yolie Payne, who was as tall and gracious as her husband, lost no time in making them all feel at home as soon as they entered her culinary territory. “I just finished up a batch, ladies. This is the best time to sneak you a little taste while it’s still warm from the oven.”

Despite their faint protestations, all three Nitwitts ended up carting home generous complimentary servings of the most delicious bread pudding they’d ever put in their mouths. It was not too heavy, as bread pudding can sometimes be. Instead, it was custardy with a hint of eggnog flavor, a dusting of nutmeg, and chock-full of plump raisins. Then the gregarious Yolie Payne had generously drizzled it with a sinfully rich, buttery rum sauce of her own invention. Gaylie Girl couldn’t wait to spring it on her Hale as a surprise dessert that evening. It would be the exclamation point on a mission well accomplished to all of the churches they had set out to impress—with one notable exception.

As he had promised, Brother Willyus V. Thompson called Gaylie Girl the next day and officially notified her that Hanging Grapes A.M.E. Church would not be participating in the Christmas Eve caroling event. “We voted to sit this one out,” he told her. “But we appreciate you askin’ us.”

Gaylie Girl was not disappointed in the least, having made a good faith effort to win him over. As she hung up the phone, she even said it out loud with great optimism in her voice: “Mark my words: The Nitwitts will have you singing on those balconies next year, Brother Thompson.”

T
here was no question in Gaylie Girl’s mind that Cherish Hempstead had started to show. Somewhere in the middle of her second trimester, Mayor Hale Dunbar’s trusty little secretary was making no attempt to disguise the little bump in her belly and had stoutly refused to switch over to maternity clothes.

“I’m so proud to be pregnant again. Why shouldn’t I show off? And I just know we’re goin’ to see this one through. I’m determined not to have another miscarriage,” Cherish kept telling Gaylie Girl over and over during their “training time” together one week before temporarily relinquishing all her secretarial duties.

“You certainly have that telltale glow, Cherish. I’m sure everything will work out for you and Henry this time. You just go home, eat plenty of good food, and rest to your heart’s content,” Gaylie Girl had insisted as the two of them worked through the location of important files, a crash course on using the computer, screening phone calls, and other mayoral office protocol.

“And I’m just as sure you’re gonna do fine helpin’ your husband out until I come back,” Cherish returned, flashing her customary sunny smile. “Just remember—I’m only a phone call away if somethin’ comes up that puzzles you. No need to go it alone, Mrs. Dunbar.”

Finally, the first of October arrived with a modest chill in the air, and the torch was passed. Gaylie Girl was on her own—bound and determined to make both herself and her Hale proud. Why, there was nothing she felt she couldn’t handle from the get-go!

Which is precisely when Lady Roth, Second Creek’s only faux-accented, faux-royal, indefatigable law unto herself, marched into the office all in a huff—bright and early that very first morning. Why was that always the way of things?

“What on earth are you doing here?” Lady Roth began, hovering imperiously over the reception desk with her turban-wrapped head thrown back. “You are Mrs. Gaylie Girl Dunbar, aren’t you? What have you and Mr. Choppy done with that adorable Cherish girl? I’ve come to rely upon her discretion and efficiency, and that’s remarkable among today’s youth!”

Gaylie Girl couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Cherish had made quite a to-do of giving her an entire page of instructions on how to deal with Lady Roth when the occasion inevitably arose, and now here was the old girl herself in the flesh with her God-only-knew-what agenda of the moment.

“Good morning to you, Lady Roth,” Gaylie Girl answered, determined not to betray both her surprise and her uneasiness. “Our delightful Mrs. Hempstead has taken maternity leave, doctor’s orders, and I’m filling in for her until she’s able to return.”

Lady Roth plopped herself down on a nearby comfortable armchair and proceeded to bark orders. “Announce me to the Mayor at once! I have other errands to run this morning and I don’t want to be put off my schedule!”

Gaylie Girl’s brain raced, trying to remember bits and pieces of the time-honored advice Cherish had written down for her, but was ultimately unable to retrieve anything specific. Instead, she settled for the polite and perfunctory. “What do you need to see the Mayor about this morning, Lady Roth? I believe he’s on the phone with someone right this second.”

“As it turns out, I need to see the both of you. So tell him to hang up. He can call whoever it is right back!”

Fortunately for Gaylie Girl, her Hale did happen to hang up that very instant, as the light on the phone line in use conveniently blinked off. She immediately buzzed him and announced Lady Roth’s presence.

“I’ll be right on out,” Mr. Choppy replied through the intercom and losing no time in appearing. He then executed an amusing little bow as his visitor rose from her chair. “Ah, Lady Roth! And to what do I owe the pleasure today?” He gestured toward his office, allowing her to enter first. “Gaylie Girl, will you come in and take notes, please?”

Dutifully, Gaylie Girl followed, and it was after they’d all taken their seats inside that some of Cherish’s instructions came flooding back in upon her.
“Always treat Lady Roth like the royalty she claims to be. We all know better, but play along come Hell or high water,” Cherish had written. Followed by: “Mr. Dunbar and I have found out the hard way that it’s best to humor her, no matter what. You’ll never get her out of the office, otherwise.”

“Now then, Lady Roth,” Mr. Choppy continued from behind his desk, “tell us what’s on your mind. We’re always here at your disposal.”

Unexpectedly, Lady Roth turned toward Gaylie Girl as she pontificated. “It’s providential that I find you here this morning, Mrs. Dunbar. I had intended to discuss my concerns with your husband and have him pass them along to you, but this will meet the case even more satisfactorily. Now, it came to my attention earlier this week that you and your friends have gotten all the churches around Second Creek to agree to a caroling event in The Square this upcoming Christmas Eve. I must say that I wholeheartedly approve.”

Gaylie Girl managed a measured reply, even though she was completely taken aback by Lady Roth’s opening gambit. “Why, yes, we did just that. Well, we didn’t convince all of the churches, you understand, but many of them. I’m delighted to hear that the word is getting around so quickly. I must remember to tell Denver Lee, Myrtis, and Renza that their publicity efforts are already beginning to pay off handsomely.”

“Never mind all that. Don’t dwell on something I already know,” Lady Roth added, waving her off as if she were swatting at a fly. “What is of the utmost importance to me now is that I have had a most egregious falling-out with our bloody choirmaster at St. Luke’s. That pasty-faced, finicky Lawton Bead is intolerable. Stalking about the Parish House like the Ghost of Christmas Past the way he does. At any rate, once I found out about the caroling, I went to Mr. Bead and gave him my demands. It turns out he will not allow me to be a soloist in our program of Christmas music, and I absolutely insist on being featured. I’ll have you know that I took voice lessons during my period of theatrical aspirations as a young girl. I was quite accomplished even though I did not achieve my ultimate ambition of becoming world-famous actress and singer, Vocifera P. Forest.”