Miracle in a Dry Season (36 page)

An hour later Travis, washed and wrapped in one of Casewell’s old shirts while his own things dried on the clothesline, remained happy. Perla finally removed the batting from his ears, and although he shook his head a little, he didn’t cry.

“Could he really be cured?” Perla wondered.

“I hope so.” Emily settled him on the floor, where he could play with some blocks Casewell had fashioned.

“Well, if he is, I’m going home before his mother comes back. I don’t want anyone to think I did it. Goodness knows what they’d expect of me after that.”

“Guess performing miracles runs in the family,” Casewell said with a wink. “Ma, I’ll run Perla and Sadie back over to the Thorntons’. Should I fetch Cathy on my way back?”

“Yes, please. I’m fair worn-out with all of this business. His clothes are almost dry, so I should have him ready to go home by the time you get back.”

By evening Travis was returned to his mother’s arms. Emily told Cathy that if she continued to have trouble with Travis’s ears, she should put a little rubbing alcohol on some cotton batting and stuff it into the sore ear. Cathy looked skeptical, but she was pleased that her son seemed happier than he had in a long time. She took the bit of cotton Emily gave her and offered grudging thanks. Casewell took the pair home and resisted the temptation to tell Cathy he and Perla had set a date. That news would get around soon enough.

The news did spread. Delilah invited everyone who stopped by the store. Casewell made sure the Talbot sisters and Frank knew about the wedding, and Emily shared with her friends. But the news was not met with enthusiasm. Casewell and Emily were at the store chatting with Delilah when Liza and Angie stopped by for a sack of flour.

“Emily, what can we do to help with the wedding?” Angie asked.

“I could use some help with the food. Perla tried to tell me
she’d make everything, but of course I put my foot down and told her she couldn’t cook for her own wedding.”

“Oh, yes.” Liza clapped her hands. “I’ll make those little pink and green mints. How many do you think you’ll need?”

Emily glanced at her son, then Delilah, who jumped in. “Well, we were just talking about that. Seems like maybe we won’t have much of a crowd.”

“Why? Isn’t the whole town invited?” Angie asked.

“Of course, of course.” Delilah hesitated. “But I don’t think they’ll come. Seems maybe there’s still some hard feelings about Perla already having a child. And then all that business with the food this summer . . . People are funny.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“I had hard feelings,” Emily whispered. She twisted her mouth a little to one side and took Casewell’s hand. “I’ve liked Perla from the day I met her, but to have her marry my son . . . Well, I’ve had a good long talk with the Lord, and He’s helped me see past my own shortcomings. What I’m saying, though, is I can understand how some folks might feel funny about coming to the wedding.”

“People have been fools since the beginning of time,” said Angie. “There’s not one of us without sin—not one. I just wish Jesus were here to ask those old fools which sinless one of them wants to cast the first stone.”

Liza nodded her head one time hard. “We’ll just have a nice wedding without them. I guess the four of us—and Casewell, of course—love Perla and Sadie enough for the rest of the world.”

Emily and Delilah smiled. Fine then, they’d put on a wedding for themselves.

In spite of Perla’s protests, Delilah quickly took over as chief planner of the wedding feast. She and Robert would provide a ham and biscuits. Liza would make her mints and a batch of divinity. Angie would supply an array of pickled items, from cucumbers to watermelon rind. Emily, with her chickens thriving again, would supply chicken-salad and egg-salad sandwiches. They would work together to bake a wedding cake.

“With a little bride and groom perched on top,” Liza said.

“We don’t have one.” Delilah sighed. “And it’s much too late to order one. We’ll have to do without.”

Liza grinned and reached into the pocket of her skirt. She pulled up some crackling tissue paper and handed it to Perla. “I thought I’d be getting married once upon a time,” she said.

Unfurling the paper, Perla gasped when she saw the figurine. The groom wore a suit, black and shiny, and the bride had a bit of netting stuck to her head. They weren’t entirely in fashion, but they would top the cake nicely.

As it turned out, Reverend Jones was available a week from Saturday. Casewell announced his wedding date in church that Sunday, but he didn’t notice the downcast eyes or the shuffling feet. All he could see was Perla and Sadie, his girls.

Casewell had his only suit cleaned and pressed. Perla decided that she would make do with her pale-yellow dress for the wedding. But Emily had other plans. She invited Perla over for lunch—just the two of them.

Perla arrived with a lemon pound cake in hand. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave all the cooking up to someone else.

“You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,” Emily said. “I’ll have to get Casewell over here to help me eat this.”

“It was no trouble.” Perla felt shy now that Emily was about to become her mother-in-law.

Emily put the cake on the counter and turned back to Perla, running her hands down over her company apron, which was perfectly pressed and spotless. “Perla, I wanted to say something to you.”

Perla thought she’d better go ahead and sit down, so she slid into a kitchen chair. The table was set for two, with a platter of sandwiches and a pot of soup that smelled wonderful—like rosemary.

Emily slid into her seat, as well. “I’ve wronged you,” she said and folded her hands against the edge of the table. “I was against you marrying Casewell, and I’m sorry. I had a hard time accepting that you had a child out of wedlock.”

Perla could see the older woman’s knuckles whiten as she squeezed her hands together.

“The Lord reminded me that I have sins of my own. He also reminded me that it’s not my job to judge other people.” She looked up and met Perla’s eyes. “There’s more than enough judging that goes on around here. I’m sorry I took it upon myself to judge you too sinful for my son. There’s not one of us too sinful for God’s own Son. How could I think mine’s better?” She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. “What I want to tell you is that I’m proud you’re marrying Casewell, and I’m pleased more than I can say that I’m about to become a grandmother.”

Perla smiled and placed a hand over Emily’s, massaging just a little to ease the tension there. She found that she felt much more relaxed than when she’d first come in. “Sadie is blessed to gain such a father and a grandmother all in one day. Thank you for asking me over, and thank you for, well, for telling me how you feel.”

“There.” Emily released her hands and sat back. “Now we can eat and start getting to know each other as mother and daughter.”

After they finished eating, Emily led Sadie into the bedroom she had shared with John. “I have something to show you,” she said.

Laid out on the rose-carved bed was a dress. Perla gasped when she saw it.

“Is this your wedding dress?”

“It is. John said I looked like an angel coming down the aisle toward him. He wasn’t given to compliments, so I always held that one dear.”

The dress was simple but lovely. Emily explained that in wartime it had been hard to find much finery, but she had been gifted with bits and pieces from the women in her family, and together they had made this lovely gown. It was ankle length, with lace peeping out from the hem, and had a high frilled neck. A lace veil clung to a small cap. Emily caressed the veil. “My grandmother’s lace,” she said. “Maybe one day Sadie will wear it.”

“Are you saying you want me to wear this?” Perla asked.

“Only if you’d like to. You probably already have something to wear, but I wanted to offer.”

Perla swallowed hard and slid a hand over the softness of the dress. Tears blurred her vision. “I’d be honored to wear this.”

“Then that’s settled,” Emily said. “Try it on and we’ll see if it needs taking in.”

The dress did need a few adjustments, but nothing Emily’s quick needle couldn’t handle. In short order Perla had a dress, a feast, an adorable little flower girl, and best of all, a groom.

When Perla got home, she told Delilah all about the dress, but her aunt seemed distracted. Finally Perla asked if something was wrong.

“We had a visitor while you were out.” Delilah cut her eyes toward the ceiling.

Perla felt a cold knot form in the pit of her stomach. “Yes? Who was it?”

“It was Cathy with Travis. He was caterwauling again.”

Perla felt the knot loosen. Why would Delilah hesitate to tell her about Cathy?

“She insisted that you’d cured him once before and wanted you to do it again. I told her you’d done no such thing, and you weren’t home, anyway.” Delilah sighed and rolled her eyes. “I asked her if she’d used rubbing alcohol in the child’s ears like we told her to, and she said she didn’t want old wives’ tales. She wanted the real thing.

“I guess Sadie heard that poor young’un carrying on, and before I knew what she was doing, she’d fetched out that jar of juice. Cathy set Travis down on the hearth rug there, and Sadie got at him quicker than anything. She had a piece of old rag soaked in juice stuffed in that boy’s ear just like that.” Delilah snapped her fingers. “And wouldn’t you know, Travis stopped crying.”

Perla smiled a little at that. “Well, good. He must have remembered it felt better last time Sadie did that. Of course, plain grape juice probably wouldn’t work so well as alcohol, but maybe it was soothing all the same.”

Delilah looked at the ceiling again. “It might be she used the fermented jar again.”

“Didn’t you dump that out?”

“Now, Perla, lots of folks let a jar or two of juice turn. Sadie was right. It’s good medicine.”

Perla stared at her aunt, and then a smile began to spread across her face. “Well, now. I guess maybe it is.” She laughed. “What in the world did Cathy do?”

“She took the jar with her when she left.”

Perla began to laugh in earnest. “Oh my. I hope Travis gets some for his ears.”

“Even if he doesn’t, I think it might put Cathy in a better frame of mind to tolerate all that crying.” Now Delilah was laughing, too.