Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond (31 page)

I swallowed as irritation built in my throat. "Agnes, you're waiting for my wedding. That should make you happy."

"Oh, it is. But you know how much I love Christmas and not to be able to be home, with the tree and opening presents. It's weird."

"Next year," I said. "You'll come home next year."

"And I got to say," Ruth said. "Your room is decorated so nice. You got that little tree and all them cards strung up on the walls and a nice nativity scene on the windowsill. I'd say you're doing the best you can."

"I suppose. I suppose," Agnes said. "And speaking of gifts. Have you gotten any wedding gifts yet?"

"A few. But I reckon most people will bring a gift today."

"And what about the cake or pie?" Agnes asked. "Is that already here?"

"I don't know," I said. "Thought I'd go on down to the Sunshine Room and check on things. I imagine Charlotte has it under control."

"Oh, OK," Agnes said.

I patted Ruth's shoulder. "Can you help Agnes into her dress while I dash down the hall and check on things?"

"Oh, sure, Griselda, you go ahead."

"Thanks."

I did exactly as I said. I dashed out the door and down the hallway. I arrived at the Sunshine Room in time to see Charlotte and Rose Tattoo setting up the Christmas Wedding Cake Pie.

"OK," Charlotte said, "hand me the last lemon meringue."

I watched as Rose gave her the pie. Charlotte carefully deposited it on a deep platelike thing that jutted out from a center pole. I counted eighteen plates and eighteen pies arranged in a tree shape.

"It's . . . amazing," I said. "I didn't expect it to be so special. You did a great job, Charlotte."

"Oh, I had help." She nodded at Rose.

"Thank you, too, Rose. It's incredible."

Rose who wasn't wearing her trademark brown sweater but a long-sleeve turtleneck that still covered her arm tattoos, smiled. "I think it's the best Christmas Wedding Cake Pie in the world."

Charlotte laughed as she backed away from creation. "I think it's the first Christmas Wedding Cake Pie ever."

I looked around the room. Tables had been covered with white tablecloths. A holly centerpiece adorned each one. There was one table that I supposed was for Zeb and me. It was up front and a sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling over our two chairs.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Rose asked. "It's nearly eleven o'clock."

"I suppose . . . but, say, have either of you seen Leon Fontaine?"

"Leon," Charlotte said. "Not in a few days. I know that policewoman was looking for him, but I haven't seen him."

"Yeah," Rose said. "Asa said his trailer is locked up tight and there's been no sign of the man. Course Asa shut the fountain down for winter—"

"Oh, that could explain it," I said. "No water."

"That's right," Charlotte said. "So Leon didn't have any more water to fill his bottles to give to the people to make them act young so he just left."

"Well, not without visiting Haddie Grace—"

"Who?" Charlotte asked.

"The old woman who rode around the nursing home on her tricycle."

"Oh, yeah. What about her?"

"She had that accident and was unconscious until—and this is according to the nurses—she was visited by a strange little man."

Rose smiled. Charlotte flat out laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it. I don't know why everyone is so suspicious of him." She replaced a holly sprig that had fallen from the stand. "It's not like he really has powers or that the fountain water had powers. He was just so positive and charming, people listened. Maybe these people just needed someone to listen and be nice to them and stop shoving pills down their throats and telling them when and where to eat or pee or sleep."

"Maybe," I said. "But I was thinking he might have been responsible for something else."

"What's that?" Charlotte asked.

I took a breath as I admired the Christmas Wedding Cake Pie. "Nothing. It's not important. I better go get ready. I'm getting married in less than an hour."

"Yes, yes," Rose said. "Go now. We'll be two of the brave souls that will be sitting outside in the shivering cold."

"I appreciate it. And so will Agnes."

On the way back to Agnes's room I saw Eula Spitwell. I had met her on a number of occasions. I believe she was well into her seventies and usually moved quite slow. That day I saw her leaning against a wall as though waiting for a bus. I had never spoken much to her, but today I couldn't help it.

"Can I help you?" I said as I noticed a distinctively rotten smell about her.

"I . . . I came for water."

"Water? Are you thirsty?"

"No. The water. The Christmas water."

"Christmas water? I'm sorry I don't know what that is."

Just then Leon Fontaine popped out of small alcove. "Shhh. Don't tell."

I nodded. "OK. But—"

Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of water. He helped the old woman drink it. "Go on, Maggie," he said. "You drink half now and half in a month or so. It'll help make you young again."

She smiled and I stood amazed as I watched her straighten her back against the wall as though her spine had not been a straight line in ears. She hunched her shoulders and then straightened them. She wiggled one arm and then the other.

"I feel like I could dance the Hokey Pokey," she said.

"You can do what you tell yourself you can do," Leon said.

"Where have you been?" I asked him.

He smiled. His rosy cheeks brightened. His eyes twinkled but he said nothing and slipped out through a side exit. I thought about running after him, about sounding some kind of alarm, but I also knew in my heart that Leon Fontaine would never be caught—and he shouldn't be.

When I arrived back at Agnes's room, Ruth was busily trying to get Agnes into her blouse. Agnes was already wearing the skirt, still not straight but at least it was on her body.

"Come on," Ruth said but not in a sour tone, "try to lift your arms a little higher."

"Can I help?" I asked picking up my pace toward them.

"Oh," Ruth said, "I knew I shoulda redone that sleeve. It's tight. Maybe if I snip the seam no one will notice."

"Maybe you should," Agnes said. "My joints are awful angry this morning. Some mornings are like that. Must be the snow that's heading our way."

I instinctively looked out the window. The sky had darkened a little bit more, but that only made the gazebo shine brighter.

"Yes, snip the seam," I said. "We don't have time."

That was when Nurse Sally knocked on the door. "Thought you'd want to know that your guests are arriving."

I turned toward her. "Oh, boy, thanks." A shudder of unexpected nerves wriggled through my body.

"Where do you want them?" Sally asked.

"Can they wait in the lobby for a few minutes and then show them to the path to the gazebo at about twenty of?"

"I can," Sally said. "But you got to know, some of them, especially that one tall woman—"

"Edie Tompkins," I said.

"Is complaining about the cold and says she'll watch from the window."

"That's fine. I suppose the heartier of the bunch can sit outside, the rest can wait in the Sunshine Room—but don't feed them until we're all there."

"Right," Sally said.

Ruth retrieved her snipping scissors from the little sewing basket she brought. She sat on the edge of the bed and set to work on the sleeve. I wrapped a blanket around Agnes.

"You'll never believe who I saw in the hallway?"

"Santa Claus?" Agnes said.

I looked at her and wrinkled my brow not sure if she was joking or not. "Not exactly. Leon Fontaine."

"I was right," Agnes said. "You did see Santa."

"Really?" Ruth said. "Did you talk to him? Should you call Mildred or the State Police?"

"No, I decided not to call anyone. It's my wedding day. It's Christmas Eve and besides no one will catch him."

I saw Agnes lift her hand slightly as in a wave toward the window.

"He gave a very elderly woman some water. It was amazing. She straightened right up and smiled wider than all outdoors."

I moved toward the window. "Agnes, did you just wave to someone?"

She shook her head. "Course not. No one is out there."

"Do you think he gave water to everyone?" Ruth said.

"Not sure," I said, still looking out the window.

But our question was answered just a few seconds later when I heard Christmas Carols blare through the PA system and residents scurrying around outside.

Eula Spitwell poked her head in the room, "Is this where the wedding is to be?"

"No," I said. "At the gazebo."

"Hot-diggity," Eula said. "I'm goin' to a weddin'. Will Mickey Mantle be there? I'd like to pet the doggie again."

"Sorry," I said. "But I don't think so."

Eula bolted down the hallway, while I closed Agnes's door. "I think we should keep people out of here and let Sally and the other nurses handle the guests.

All done," Ruth said. She shook out the blouse and picked a couple of stray threads off of it. "Let's get this on you now."

"OK," Agnes said. "I'm sorry to be a bother."

"You're not a bother," I said as I pulled off the blanket and tossed it on the bed.

Ruth and I pulled the blouse over her head. Then we pushed her thick arms through the sleeves.

"Much better," Ruth said. "Except now, Agnes, I need you to stand up so I can clasp and tie and get you looking right."

"Oh, all right," Agnes said. Her voiced had reverted to her little girl voice. It made me close my eyes for a second.

"OK," I said grabbing her walker. I placed it in front of her.

"Do you think you can do it, or should I get an aide?"

"I can do it."

"OK." I slipped my arms under Agnes's armpits. "Ruth, you get behind her and push a little. When she's up, come around front and help keep her steady until she gets her footing."

"One, two, three." I pulled, Ruth pushed and Agnes lifted herself up. She wobbled a second or two and then grabbed her walker.

"Get steady," I said.

"I . . . I am, Griselda. I think I'm steady now."

"OK." I let go.

Ruth set to work, and in a few minutes, there my sister stood in her red maid-of-honor outfit, hat and all. I pinned a corsage of red poinsettias on her tremendous chest. Then I adjusted the sprigs of holly with red berries on her hat.

"You look so pretty," I said. I wiped tears from the corner of my eyes.

"Can I sit now?" Agnes asked.

"Do you still want to walk down the aisle?" I asked.

"Sure do, Griselda. This is your wedding day. Jesus will be walking right beside me, holding me as I go. Don't you worry."

And that was when I saw my own image of Jesus, walking beside me down the aisle. I had been sad about not having my father to do that honor. But I had my heavenly father. He said he'd be a father to the fatherless. I smiled at the image and decided to keep it with me—in private.

"The Holly and the Ivy" drifted through the loud speaker. Another knock on the door. It was Sally again.

"Thought you'd want to know that Zeb just arrived. He looks so . . . well, handsome, Griselda. I didn't know you could get a green tux with a red shirt. And he's wearing the sweetest green velvet bow tie."

I swallowed and surprised myself by laughing. Agnes, though, must have thought the image was hysterical and busted into a belly laugh. She slapped her knee.

"And oh," Sally said. "You look pretty, Agnes."

I looked at the clock. "Eleven-thirty. We better hurry."

"Won't take me but a minute," Ruth said. "She unveiled her dress. It matched Agnes's except it was one piece. She slipped it on easily. I zipped it up the back and helped pin her poinsettia corsage.

Then they both looked at me like I was about to go in for brain surgery.

"Now it's your turn," Ruth said. She unwrapped my dress and held it up. "This is so pretty, Griselda. Just perfect for a Christmas wedding."

"It is sweet," Agnes said. She started to blubber.

"Don't, don't cry now," Ruth said. "You'll get all red-faced and puffy."

Ruth and I looked at each other and then Agnes burst out laughing. "Yeah? So? How could anyone tell?"

The levity helped and I slipped my dress over my head.

"I still don't know why you didn't get your hair done this morning." Ruth said as she zipped me up. "But I'll do something with it. You have pretty hair, getting a little gray here and there, but that's to be expected."

"I thought I'd pull a comb through it and maybe you could put it up, you know, like in a bun or—"

"Beehive?" Ruth said. "I don't believe we have the time and I didn't bring any hair spray."

"I'm certain someone around here has a can," Agnes said.

"Whatever you can do, Ruth," I said.

"OK, OK." Ruth opened her purse and pulled out a brush. "Let me see." She started pulling and twisting and teasing while my stomach started churning, flopping, and making embarrassing sounds.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't have time to worry about body noises," Ruth said. "Agnes, call for the spray net."

Agnes wheeled toward her bed and squeezed a small rubber bulb on the end of a wire. A few seconds later Sally opened the door. It was almost like she was waiting for the call.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"You surely can," Ruth said, not looking at her. "I need a can of hair spray and twenty-seven bobby pins and a rat-tail comb, stat!"

"Right away," Sally said, and off she went.

Ruth pulled and tugged on my hair. "Ow. Ow," I said. "That hurts a little."

"No time to mollycoddle. You're getting hitched, and I got to get all this hair piled up on top of your head and then make it stay there for the duration."

"Of my marriage?"

"No, the wedding."

Agnes laughed. "Griselda, I can't remember a time when you allowed anyone to do your hair. Except the one time when Mama put a million curls into it. You looked like Little Orphan Annie. You remember that?"

"I do." I winced from the pain in my scalp. "I was so embarrassed I refused to go to school."

Sally returned. "Here you go. Aqua Net, bobby pins, and one rat-tail comb."

"Put them on the tray table please," Ruth said.

Sally stood near.

"Comb," Ruth said with hand out.

Sally placed the comb in Ruth's palm.

She fussed a little. I couldn't see what in the world she was doing. And frankly, I didn't want to. But I could feel my hair getting bigger and taller by the second.

"Bobby pin," Ruth said.

Sally obliged.

"Again," Ruth said.

This went on for a few minutes until Ruth asked for the spray net. She sprayed all around my head and a small cloud enveloped me. It smelled a bit like alcohol and lilacs.

"That should hold," Ruth said. "What do you think, nurse?"

Sally touched my hair. "I agree."

I touched my hair. It felt like it had been shellacked. I found the top and it seemed to be about nine maybe ten inches high.

"Go on," Ruth said. "Take a gander at yourself." But then she pressed on my shoulders before I could stand. She dug deep into her handbag, which was the size of a bed pillow. "This won't do."

She fussed in my hair a few more seconds and said, "Now take a look."

I stood and peered at myself in Agnes's mirror. My hair had been wrapped in a tight beehive. Ruth pinned a large red bow on the front.

"I look . . . ridiculous. I look like a Christmas tree."

"No, you don't," Agnes said. "You look very pretty. Wait until Zeb gets a look at you."

I took a deep breath and blew it out. "There's not time for anything different now. It's five after twelve."

The view from the window was astounding. Nearly every chair was taken by someone from Bright's Pond or Paradise. I saw Boris and Asa, Charlotte, Rose, Ginger Rodgers, and Harriet Nurse. Ivy even wore a dress. She sat on the end with Mickey Mantle by her side.

"I can't believe she brought that dog," Ruth said.

"It's OK," I said. "I think it's funny . . . and sweet."

Sally moved toward the door. "I guess I better get going."

"Are you coming?" I asked.

"Are you inviting me?"

"Sure. Can you get away for a few minutes?"

"I sure can."

Agnes grabbed my hand. "Griselda, I . . . just want to say before we go out there, that I love you. I'm very proud of you and . . . and thank you."

"Thank you?"

"For taking care of me. Even when I didn't really deserve it sometimes."

"You're my sister," I said. "I will always take care of you. I love you."

I kissed her cheek. She pulled me close.

"Come on," Ruth said. "The guests are turning into popsicles out there." She gave me my bouquet of poinsettias.

Ruth pushed Agnes. I followed behind. When we got outside the room, residents were lined up along the walls. Clyde, the orderly was there also. I called him over.

"You look so pretty," he said.

"Would you go and tell them we're ready?"

"Sure."

I took another breath.

"Good luck," shouted Eula Spitwell.

"God bless," said Clive Dickens who was standing with his bride. She blew me a kiss.

My heart pounded, but that was OK.

"Here we go," I said. "Here we go."

I expected to hear the traditional wedding march when Clyde opened the doors. But instead I heard "Pomp and Circumstance" blaring over the PA system.

"I'm sorry, Griselda," Clyde said. "We couldn't find the right record. This was the closest we could get."

"It's OK," I said. "It's fine."

Ruth pushed Agnes to the start of the white carpet and stopped. "Now wait until we get all the way down there before you start down. And remember walk slowly."

"Right. Got it."

Clyde helped Agnes out of the chair.

"You sure?" I asked. "It's not that far but—"

"I can do it," Agnes said. "And no walker."

I think I might have gasped, but I could see it in her eyes. "Agnes will walk down the aisle on her own steam."

Clyde followed behind with the chair just in case she had to sit down.

Ruth followed Clyde. She looked so nice in her red dress with the white poinsettia corsage. She walked slowly. But I knew the scene only made her miss her Hubby Bubby.

I looked down the aisle and saw Zeb standing with Studebaker. Zeb was looking right at me. He smiled so wide I thought his face might break.

I waited until Ruth was all the way down. Agnes had sat down in the chair.

Just as I took my first step the music changed to Bing Crosby crooning "White Christmas" and the flurries started falling again. I felt tears well in my eyes and I sailed a prayer amid the snowflakes thanking God for Zeb and friends who would sit outside on folding chairs at a nursing home on Christmas Eve.