Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond (20 page)

"Uhm, because get this, Mildred arrested him yesterday. Even though she really had nothing to hold him on. She put him in that locked room in the town hall basement. But guess what."

"He escaped!"

"Now how did you know that?"

"I didn't," she bit into her hamburger patty. "This is awful."

"Come on, tell me how."

"I didn't know, not for certain. I just figure a tricky guy like him would find a way."

"I think Harriet Nurse helped him get away when she brought him his picnic basket of food and goodies."

"Ha, good old Harriet. She is a sly one."

"But no one's seen him since, except you, if you say you saw him here."

Agnes slapped her knee. "Ha. He's a pip."

I kept looking at the gazebo and then it struck me. Just like that. Just like lightning. "Agnes. We can get married out there. In the gazebo."

"Who can?"

"Me and Zeb. We were talking about the wedding and figured it would be hard to do at the church on account of how we would get you there."

Agnes closed her eyes. "Ah, it's me again. I'm always causing trouble."

"No, no, don't think that way. This is cool. We'll get married in the gazebo. And Agnes, will you be my maid of honor?"

Agnes slapped her knee again. "Why, Griselda Sparrow, you know I will, but . . . but are you sure? I mean what will I wear? Don't think they make many bridesmaid dresses in my size."

"Ruth can sew anything. I bet she can alter a dress for you."

"Ah, she'd need to alter six or seven dresses to get one to fit me."

"Why are you doing this? Don't you want to be my maid of honor?"

Agnes closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Yes, yes, of course, I do. It's just . . . just embarrassing."

"Agnes, you've never been embarrassed by your weight— ever."

"That's where you're wrong." She pushed her plate away. And then moved it back. She wolfed down the cottage cheese. "I've always been ashamed. I . . . I just didn't know what to do about it," she said between chews.

"But, Agnes, this is different. It's my wedding."

"I know. I'm sorry. But it'll be mighty cold out there. Could snow."

"We'll make it a quick ceremony. Snow would be nice. I'll talk to Ruth. We'll figure something out." I felt the excitement build in my chest. But then deflate.

Sure it seemed simple enough to me. Talk to Ruth, sew a dress large enough for Agnes to wear, something to make her look and feel pretty on the most important day of my life. It was becoming about Agnes again.

"You know what, Agnes," I said. "I just remembered. I had an appointment."

"Appointment? You sick?"

"No, nothing like that." I kissed her cheek. "I'll get with Ruth. Don't worry we'll figure something out. I want you in my wedding."

I made my way down the hall practically tripping over Haddie Grace who came whizzing around the corner on her tricycle. "Hello, Haddie," I said. "How are you?" She didn't say anything but kept riding around the corner toward the Sunshine Room ringing her bell.

That gave me an idea. Maybe we could just get married in the Sunshine Room. Agnes could be wheeled down in her chair and even just wear a pretty housedress. I mean what did it really matter if she wore a real bridesmaid dress or not? I still didn't even know what I wanted to wear and we were getting married in just a couple of weeks.

I drove home from Greenbrier that day wondering and worrying about what I was going to wear to my wedding. The idea to drive into Shoops and look at some dresses crossed my mind but what also crossed my mind was that dress shopping was something I should probably be doing with Agnes. But that was impossible. I had no choice, though, than to shove the notion away and find someone else to go with.

Ruth came to mind first, but then I saw Ivy and Mickey Mantle walking along Filbert Street. I hadn't seen Ivy since the engagement party and we didn't really get a chance to talk. So I thought this would a good opportunity to catch up. I pulled Old Bessie against the curb and got out.

"Ivy," I called.

She waved. "Hey, Griselda. Congratulations."

"Thanks. But say, are you busy right now?"

"Nah, just walking."

"Feel like a ride into Shoops? I need to find a wedding dress."

"Oh, did you set a date?"

"Zeb said he'd like to get married at Christmas."

"You mean on Christmas Day?" She clapped her hands when Mickey Mantle became sidetracked by a trashcan. "Come on Mickey Mantle, stay away from that."

"Nah, not Christmas Day. I don't know which day he has in mind."

"OK, I'll go but I don't know anything about weddings or dresses."

"Me neither."

We took Mickey Mantle home and headed into Shoops.

"I guess you heard about what's going on at Greenbrier," I said as we pulled onto the main road to Shoops.

"Sure. I think it's funny. Everyone says that man from Paradise is behind it. Any truth to the rumor?"

"I'm not sure, but it sure looks like it." Then I told her about the bottles and how Mildred arrested him even though she had no real evidence and how he escaped.

"Good for him. Personally, I don't get the big deal. And that Mildred can be quick on the draw. No one is getting hurt, are they?"

"Not really. A broken hip. Some falls. Some of the residents are doing some pretty crazy things that they are really too old to be doing."

"Ah, I think it's good for them."

We chatted a few more minutes about Greenbrier and then about my upcoming wedding and Agnes.

"Just get yards and yards of pink satin and wrap her up in it. No one will notice. Besides, it's your day, and you're more worried about her than yourself."

"Look, I don't care," I said as I pulled into a parking place out front of Oppenstainers' Department Store. "I'd get married in blue jeans."

"So why don't you?"

I pushed the gearshift into park and opened the door. "Ah, I don't know. Maybe I really do want a dress, you know the whole thing."

"Really?" Ivy pulled open the store door and held it for me. "After you."

"Thank you."

The store was large, and we had walked right smack dab into the ladies' shoe department, which was right next to the perfume and makeup counters where they sprayed you whether you wanted them to or not and insisted that they test your skin type. I hated the idea that we would have to walk through there. It was like entering a mine field as far as I was concerned.

"Let's just ask someone where the dresses are. Aren't salesladies supposed to help you with stuff like this?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. I never bought a wedding dress before. Look there's a directory."

Dresses were on the second floor. "Come on, Ivy." I took a deep breath as we stepped onto the escalator. It was like diving into a deep dark pool. The whole thing made me anxious. Maybe in a good way. Maybe not.

I saw a friendly looking saleslady arranging a rack of blouses. "Let's ask her. She looks nice."

"Excuse me," I said.

The stylish, young, and thin woman turned and smiled. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a dress and—"

"Oh, certainly. Did you have anything in mind? What kind of dress were you thinking?" She looked me up and down. "Walk this way," she said. We followed her through a maze of clothing racks and displays. I had to smack Ivy when she put her hand on her hip and wiggled her hips like our saleslady.

Kind of dress? "Well, actually, it's to get married in."

"Married. You're looking for a wedding dress?" She stopped walking. "This isn't a bridal shop."

"Oh, do I need a bridal shop? Can't I just get something pretty?"

"Sure, but most brides want a wedding gown, you know with a veil and train and everything."

"A train? No, no, nothing like that. I just want a dress."

"OK, then you want formal wear. Over here."

The next thing I knew, the saleslady, who said her name was Mavis, had shown me three dresses. I hated all three until she found a dress that I thought would be perfect. It wasn't your traditional wedding dress, and that was fine with me. It was long, dark blue like the sky just before the sun completely dropped behind the horizon, and had the tiniest white dots on it like stars. It made me think of the night Zeb gave me his mother's ring.

Mavis helped me into it and zipped it up the back. "Now that's gorgeous on you," she said. "I particularly like the scoop neckline and wide sleeves."

"It does look nice, doesn't it?" I said looking at myself in the long mirror. "I've never owned anything so pretty."

"I wouldn't call it a wedding gown, but for a Christmas wedding, I think it's perfect," Mavis said. "With the right hat, maybe a little pillbox with veil and corsage made from red poinsettias. Gorgeous."

"It's very nice," Ivy said.

"Now you'll want to get your hair done and maybe even your makeup," Mavis said.

"Hair? Makeup? I hadn't thought about those things."

"Of course. We have a wonderful beauty parlor right here in the store. You should make an appointment to come in the morning of your big day. Tell them you want Mr. Frederick. He's the best."

"And they'll take care of it?"

Mavis smiled again. "Yes. They'll take care of it all. Now, what about your bridesmaids? How many and what are they wearing?"

I glanced at Ivy. She shrugged.

"Oh, it's just my sister. She's my maid of honor."

"Oh, how adorable," Mavis said.

Ivy chuckled.

"Actually," I said as Mavis lifted the dress over my head. "Maybe you can help with that. She's a bit of a problem case."

"Problem?" Mavis hung my dress on the hanger. "What kind of problem?"

"Well, she'll most likely be in a wheelchair."

Mavis clicked her tongue. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is it one of them diseases that folks get that makes their muscles stop working?"

"No, no. She's . . . she's . . ."

Mavis kept looking at me, and I couldn't bring myself to say the words.

"Fat," Ivy said. "Griselda's sister is . . . large."

"That's not a problem. We have dresses for plus-size women."

"More like quadruple plus," I said.

"Triple X?" Mavis said. "Still . . . I—"

"Larger than that," Ivy said. "Have you ever heard about Agnes Sparrow?"

Mavis swallowed. "You mean the woman that was supposed to do all them miracles? I heard about her last year sometime, on that Rassie Harper show."

"That's her."

"My, my," Mavis said. "I never dressed a celebrity before. Maybe she should come in and—"

"She's not a celebrity, and she can't just come in." By then I was annoyed and just wanted to pay for my dress and leave. "It's OK," I said. "We'll figure something out."

"No, no," Mavis said. "Look, maybe I can bring a few things to her and—"

I shook my head. "That won't work either."

"OK, but let me know if I can help. Should we ring this up?" She took my dress and walked toward the cash register. I paid cash for the dress and Mavis wrapped it in a clear bag, which she zipped along the bottom.

"Now be sure and make that appointment downstairs, basement level, with the beauty parlor before you leave today. And don't forget about shoes. A pair of open-toe sandals would work well with this."

"Thank you," I said. "You've been very helpful."

Ivy and I walked through the dress department to the escalator.

"Maybe I should make that appointment, except I don't know for which day."

Ivy shook her head. "I suggest you get that straight. Then make the appointment. And then worry about Agnes."

When we got to the bottom of the escalator, Ivy said, "What are you going to do about Agnes?" as though the problem had just dawned on her. "How will she get to the church?"

"We're not getting married in the church." We walked toward the exit, right past the women's shoes. I'd worry about that later.

"No? Where?"

"Greenbrier. In the gazebo."

Ivy laughed. "Oh, you can't be serious. It's cold, especially out there. The wind whips around like a mad man."

"We'll make it work. Just the ceremony in the gazebo and the reception in the Sunshine Room out there. Folks can wait in there if they don't want to sit out in the cold. God is out there in the wind too. Not just at church."

"OK, OK. You made your point. It's fine with me. Not my wedding."

"My biggest problem is getting a dress for Agnes to wear."

"I'd talk to Ruth. She can sew anything."

"I had already thought about that, but you know how she can get. She's already sewing all the pageant costumes."

"Oh, right, well, she'll be done with them soon. The pageant is next Sunday. Did they ever get a Mary?"

"I suggested Mercy Lincoln."

"The little girl from the backwoods? She'd be perfect."

"Some of them balked at the idea."

"Why?"

"Because she's . . . you now . . . a Negro." We got into the truck and I backed out of the parking spot. "I know it doesn't make any difference but—"

"So who got upset? As if I didn't know?"

"Nate Kincaid."

"Why, that little bigot. I'll fix his wagon."

I started down the road to Bright's Pond. "Oh, don't fret over him. He can't do anything about it. Majority rules on the committee. He'll get used to it."

"A black Mary? I don't know," Ivy said. She clicked her tongue.

"Like I said, it's not up to Nate Kincaid. But what if some people in the audience don't like it?"

"Who cares? Let them get upset."

"Well, I still have to ask her and get permission from her mama. That might be a problem."

"Yeah, some of them woods people don't like us townsfolk."

"I know, but Mercy's different. I hope her mama is too. I figure I'll ask her next time she comes to the library."

"You better hurry. Time is running out and you would look pretty silly playing Mary."

"I'll have Mercy at the next rehearsal."

"I bet you will."

"Say, did you hear about the animals?" I asked.

"You mean all those little kids dressed up like sheep?"

"Nope. We got us a real live camel for the show."

"But how? There are no camels in Bright's Pond."

Ivy rolled down her window a couple of inches. The cold December air felt good on my face. I said, "You know that artist fella, Filby Pruett?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, he apparently knows someone with a traveling animal act, and he got this person to lend us a camel and a sheep."

"That's amazing. We never had real animals—well, except the time one of the Frost sisters' pigs got loose and rampaged through the scenery." Ivy laughed.

"I remember that. They treated that pig like a dog."

"Yeah, but they should never have let it off the leash during the play."

I pulled up out front of Ivy's house. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Sure. But pick a date—today. And then make that appointment and talk to Ruth about Agnes."

"I will."

I pulled away from the curb and headed toward home. With only nineteen days before Christmas there was a lot to do. This was one of those times I resented Agnes for being so huge and helpless and incapable of helping me. I knew she couldn't help it but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt to know that once again I would be doing all the work to make her look and feel good and that somehow I would fade into the background.