Deep Dixie (47 page)

Fulton met her gaze.
“
With your sights set to help me or my grandmother?
”

This she could answer with all her heart.
“
Both, Fulton. Both.
”

* * *

Fulton had put three conditions on his meeting with Miss Lettie. First, he did not want to introduce his daughter into the situation until he saw for himself that all old hostilities had been resolved. Second, he did not want Dixie
’
s family lurking about, trying to get a peek at him or even to make him feel welcome in their home. And last, he wanted Dixie to stay in the room, at least at the beginning, to act as a buffer for the possibly awkward situation.

They fulfilled the first prerequisite easily. The minute Fulton
’
s daughter, Sarah, and Wendy met, they found an instant affinity for one another. Six-year-old Wendy squealed with delight at having her first guest in to show her new bedroom, and eight-year-old Sarah reveled in her status as the sophisticated second-grader. When they added Peachie Too into the mix, the girls had found pure bliss secreted away upstairs, dressing the surpassingly obliging poodle up in her extensive wardrobe.

The second criteria had proved a bit trickier, but once Dixie realized that the day Fulton had finally consented to come over was a Thursday, she knew just what to do. Aunt Sis had been in rare form today, dolled-up in layers of lavender chiffon over violet taffeta as she set off to the Every-Other-Thursday- Aftemoon Arts and Culture Society meeting. She
’
d been intent on introducing her new bosom buddy, Verdi Walker, to all the dear and precious ladies of her circle. Riley and the Judge did the honors of driving the women to the meeting, then waiting to bring them home again. While they waited, they planned to loose themselves on the town, paying
special attention, Grandpa had promised, to the antacid department of Noni Philpot
’
s drugstore.

That left only Fulton
’
s last request. Dixie took a deep breath, glanced around the front parlor to make sure the Founder
’
s old Bible was tucked out of sight then went to the rocker. Gently she worked her fingers over Miss Lettie
’
s thin hair. She
’
d spent most of the morning trying to put it into two neat braids that hugged the old woman
’
s head along the top, then met in a cherished antique clasp at the back.

“
Do I look pretty?
”
Miss Lettie gave a toothless grin that didn
’
t hide how anxious Lettie was over seeing her grandson after all this time.

“
Yes, you do. You look…
”
Dixie put her hand under the skeletal chin. She held her breath and blinked away the beginning of tears. How she loved this old woman. Loved her as if they were the ones that shared a relative by blood and not just by marriage. The family secret that had taken Dixie by surprise before seemed incidental now, an interesting footnote that had not altered how Dixie felt toward her beloved Miss Lettie one bit. It didn
’
t take a notation in a Bible register to make them family—their own hearts had done that long ago.

“
You look gorgeous, Miss Lettie.
”
She leaned down and kissed the dark-skinned temple.

Lettie made a dry, smacking sound in the air, like a baby who is first learning the act instinctively mimics the kiss of a loved one.

“
Are you ready to see Fulton again, then?
”

“
I
’
m so nervous I
’
m all a-shakin
’
.
”
Lettie lifted her gnarled hand, showing Dixie the balled up embroidered handkerchief she
’
d been clutching as if to offer proof.
“
But then, I
’
m always a-shakin
’
, so don
’
t reckon Fulton will know the difference.
”
She lowered her hand to her lap, inched up her chin, and set her chair to rocking.
“
Show my baby in, lamb.
”

Dixie went to Grandpa
’
s office and rapped on the door.
“
She
’
s ready now, Fulton.
”

“
Sorry to foil your plans, Dixie.
”
The front door swung open and Riley walked in.

“
What are you doing here? Is Grandpa with you?
”
She strained to look outside to see if the old man was waiting in the car.

“
No, I
’
m alone. Seems Smilin
’
Bob took the Every-Other- Thursday-Afternoon Arts and Culture Society by storm. The ladies had a fit over him. Last I saw, he was seated at a table surrounded by women as he told some tale about owning the town
’
s first automobile dealership.
”

“
That
’
s all well and good, but Fulton specifically asked—
”

“
Say, is your grandfather some kind of judge or something?
”
Fulton stepped through the office door, one of Grandpa
’
s business cards in his hand.

“
Smilin
’
Bob definitely falls in the
or something
category, friend.
”
Riley gave Fulton a resounding pat on the back.
“
My plans changed. Do you mind if I hang around here while you...
”

“
No, that
’
d be fine.
”
Fulton handed Riley the card, then squared his shoulders, looking professional and dapper in his impeccable charcoal-colored suit.
“
Good.
”

“
You
’
re ready, then?
”
Dixie was so excited she thought she
’
d burst. She couldn
’
t believe it was about to happen.

“
As I
’
ll ever be.
”
He pointed toward the parlor across the entryway.

Dixie nodded.
“
Right through here.
”
She led the way, Riley on her heels and Fulton right behind him so that he was the last of them to come into Lettie
’
s sight.

“
Praise the Lord, it
’
s my baby!
”
What might have been a shout of exhalation from a younger person came more as an anguished whisper from Miss Lettie.
“
It
’
s my
baby
.
”

Fulton froze a few steps inside the doorway.
“
Granny Lett.
”

“
Granny Lett!
”
She put both hands over her mouth.
“
I had forgotten that you called me that, sweet, sweet Fulton.
”

“
I...
”
He turned toward Dixie, his eyes shinning with what must have been quite unexpected tears.
“
I had no idea she
’
d look so small and fragile.
”

“
She
’
s frail. Yes, she is.
”
Dixie put her hand on the man
’
s back, tempted to give him a little shove to get him headed in Lettie
’
s direction.
“
But a hug wouldn
’
t break her.
”

“
A hug?
”
He more breathed the words than spoke them, his brow furrowed. He looked at Lettie, then Riley, then Dixie.
“
I came here filled with such hurt and anger...
”

Dixie felt her own eyes tear up.
“
I understand, but it seems a little useless to hold onto those feelings now, doesn
’
t it? Now when you see that dear, old face?
”

He adjusted his glasses.

“
Talk to her,
”
Riley urged.
“
She
’
s still sharp as a tack.
”

“
She can answer all your questions, even some you may not yet know you have.
”
Dixie touched her mother
’
s necklace, and when Riley put his hand on her shoulder she sighed and went on.
“
Together the two of you can find your way to forgiveness.
”

Fulton nodded his head. Slowly, like a man carrying a heavy load, he approached his grandmother.
“
Granny Lett, I have been so mad at you for so long for choosing this white family over your own flesh and blood that I don
’
t know if I have it in me to forgive you for turning us away.
”

“
I never turned you away, baby. Never you or my Helen Betty. Never.
”

“
When you turned away my father, you did.
”

“
Your father—
”
Lettie shut her eyes. Her tiny hands curled into fists in her lap. Her mouth angled downward in a grim scowl.
“
Your father took away from me every child I ever brung up to full-growed or loved with all my heart. Every child
‘
cept my Dixie Belle.
”

Dixie reached for Riley
’
s hand. After all these years, she had thought Lettie might have forgiven Wallace Summers. To see now how deep the scars still ran took her breath away.

“
Granny Lett, it was an
accident
.
”
Fulton pronounced the last word slow and hard, but Dixie breathed a sigh of relief that it was without anger.

She understood. Regardless of his feeling about his grandmother
’
s treatment of his family, no one could fault the old woman for the almost unendurable pain she associated with Fulton
’
s father.

“
It was an accident,
”
Fulton repeated.
“
My father had not been drinking that night. The weather was bad...that dirt road was a mess from the rain and all the cars that had driven down it that evening going to that party.
”

“
Dixie, no.
”
At Riley
’
s hushed whisper, she turned to him.
“
He
’
s not saying—
”
Riley looked her in the eye.

Dixie swallowed hard but the cold, tight lump in her chest remained. She pressed her lips together then closed her eyes because she could not bear to see the all-too familiar horror reflected in the eyes of someone hearing this story for the first time. Even if that someone was Riley.

She didn
’
t know how she managed it, but she spoke softly.
“
Fulton
’
s father was driving the Fulton
’
s Cartage truck that hit my mother and Young Bobby
’
s car that night.
”

He said nothing, just pulled her close.

Her whole life she longed for someone to do that. Everyone around her in the days after the accident had been too crippled by their own grief to even try to comfort her. That
’
s why Baby Belle had meant so much to Dixie. That was why she had clung to the little doll and why, when Miss Lettie pulled herself up out of her own devastation to see Dixie
’
s pain and then did what she could to ease it, Dixie had been forever grateful.

“
Helen Betty was riding with her husband in that truck.
”
Dixie clutched at the soft cotton of Riley
’
s pale blue shirt, then turned her face into his strong chest.
“
She was killed that night along with my mother and my uncle.
”

“
And my sweet Samantha.
”
Miss Lettie croaked out the words, referring to Dixie
’
s grandmother.
“
That precious child that Founder Fulton came all the way to New Orleans to fetch me home to raise. She died of a broken heart just after. Samantha, Geneva, Young Bobby, my very own Helen Betty... and you, Fulton. That Wallace Summers took them
all
away from me that night.
”