Miss Julia Meets Her Match (30 page)

“Hurry, Miss Julia,” Hazel Marie called from the bottom of the stairs. “Mildred’s coming up the walk, and Tonya’s with her! At least, I guess that’s who it is.”

They were thirty minutes early, an entirely proper arrival time for the honored guest and his mother. I rushed to greet them with Hazel Marie, more anxious than I’d let myself admit to see the results of a gender reassignment.

Lord, I’d never have believed it. Tony was a Tonya, if I’d ever seen one. In the midst of greetings among the four of us and while Hazel Marie pinned a corsage on Tonya’s shoulder with trembling hands, I looked carefully at Mildred, fully expecting to see the ravages of her grief.

“Oh, Julia,” she gushed, her eyes shining as she embraced me, “Tonya and I have been so looking forward to this. You are just the sweetest thing, and I’ll never forget what you’re doing.”

Well, it certainly seemed that she’d forgotten her previous sorrows. She let her eyes linger proudly on Tonya, who was telling Hazel Marie that she looked fabulous, winning Hazel Marie’s heart on the spot.

Mildred leaned close and whispered to me, “Can you believe it, Julia? I have a beautiful daughter and never even knew it.”

I nodded, trying not to stare at our guest of honor, but unable to turn my eyes away. Tonya looked as if she could be Tony’s sister. His twin sister, in fact, which might not’ve been far off the mark. Tony had never been a large boy, always small for his age, and that stood Tonya in good stead now. She was beautifully dressed in a smart silk tweed suit and high heels similar to those that Hazel Marie wore, although I must say that pumps would’ve hidden those bony feet better than sandals, no matter how high the fashion. Tony’s blonde hair color seemed little changed, with maybe a few added highlights—which I’d learned to recognize from Hazel Marie’s use of them. Tonya’s coiffure formed a smooth cap on her head, with wings that followed, and hid, the contours of her somewhat angular jaw. Full bangs emphasized her delicate features and covered a hair line that might’ve revealed her former masculine orientation.

From a distance, Tonya Allen would attract the eye of any indiscriminate man, of which I knew a number. She was well-dressed, with bosomy curves that surpassed even Hazel Marie’s. It was only upon closer inspection that you might wonder at the large wrists and feet, and, Lord help us, the hint of an Adam’s apple.

While taking in Tonya’s appearance, I led her and Mildred to seats in the living room where we would visit until the other guests arrived. Hazel Marie could hardly contain her fascination, as she hung on Tonya’s every word. And there were plenty of them, for Tonya had retained Tony’s bubbling personality. She chattered away, completely at ease as she laughed in that tinkling way I remembered so well, flapping her hand to draw in a listener, and reaching out occasionally to touch Hazel Marie.

I did my best to engage Mildred in conversation, but both of us were too enthralled with Tonya to pay much attention to each other. Mildred was gazing at her with pride, and I with amazement.

Then Tonya gracefully rose from her chair, walked over to me and, with the ease of an accomplished guest, took my hand and thanked me for honoring her.

She patted my hand and said, “You are so dear to do this for me, Miss Julia. My New York friends said I shouldn’t come home, but I knew I could count on the graciousness of Southern ladies like you.”

A stab of shame struck me, as my far less-than-commendable reason for honoring her flashed in my mind. But I pulled myself together and said, “It’s a pleasure to have you in my home.” After all, we Southern ladies learn the art of graciousness from having to deal with eccentrics of one kind or another for most of our lives.

Tonya, still holding my hand, eased herself onto a chair next to mine. “You don’t know how many times I’ve recalled how Mother and I used to visit right here in your living room. It looks so different now, so light and fresh. You’ve redecorated, haven’t you?”

“Why, yes,” I said, pleased that she had noticed. “Hazel Marie was ever so much help with the color scheme.”

Tonya leaned over to whisper, “Mother told me that you and Hazel Marie had developed a warm friendship, and I can see why—she is charming. But a lot of credit must go to your kind heart and generous nature, especially after the inauspicious start the two of you had.”

I struggled, because of the increased shame I was feeling, to reply in equally complimentary terms. But I didn’t have to.

“Miss Julia?” Lillian stood in the doorway, her eyes locked on Tonya while she got my attention. “ ’Scuse me, but Miz Ledbetter on the telephone for you.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I said, getting up from my chair. “I’ve asked Emma Sue to pour, so she should be here, not on the telephone. I hope nothing’s happened to her.”

Excusing myself, I hurried after Lillian into the kitchen where the caterer and an extra server were embellishing the sandwich trays with sprigs of parsley.

I picked up the phone and said, “Emma Sue, where are you? If you don’t hurry, everybody’ll be here and I’ll have nobody to pour.”

“You’ll have to get somebody else, Julia,” she said, and I could tell by her strangled voice that she was crying, which was nothing unusual, but still.

“What’s wrong, Emma Sue? Are you sick?”

“No, I’m not sick, just disappointed. I hate to let you down like this, especially at the last minute, but I won’t be able to pour.” She stopped as a flood of tears overcame her. “I can’t even come.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Emma Sue, stop crying, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well,” she sniffed. Then I had to listen to her blowing her nose. “Well, Larry doesn’t want me to, and Curtis agreed that it wouldn’t look right for me or any other church member to be there. They said, as Christians, we shouldn’t associate with anything unnatural.”

I could hardly control my blood pressure, which shot straight up at the very idea. It wasn’t enough that Pastor Ledbetter made decisions for his wife, he was now letting a perfect stranger in on the act. I wanted to shake Emma Sue for going along with it.

“Now, listen, Emma Sue,” I said, controlling my temper with some effort, “Tonya Allen may be unnatural, but that’s no reason for you to be impolite. And I’ll tell you another thing, she is just as pleasant as she can be and there’s not one thing unnatural-looking about her. In fact,” I went on, unable to refrain from getting in a jab, “if he didn’t know better, Curtis Maxwell, himself, might invite her to fly off with him on his jet airplane.”

“Oh, Julia, I don’t think so,” she said, as I tried to keep from grinding my teeth at her literalness. “But that’s not the only reason, and I just hate to tell you this.” She broke down then, and I had to wait until she got herself under control again. “Larry said . . . oh, I know this is hurtful, but he said I shouldn’t associate with you, either.”

“Now, Julia, don’t get upset. It’s only till you get your personal life straightened out, although I haven’t seen anything wrong with it, myself. Are you and Sam really, well, you know, jumping the gun?”

It was all I could do not to blow my stack. “We are not jumping anything, and I resent the implication. You know me better than that, Emma Sue, and if you don’t, well, what I do within the confines of my own home is nobody’s business.” I had to stop to get my breath, visions of what I’d risked for her when she was tracking her wandering husband springing to mind and churning my stomach.

Then I collected myself, recalling my intention to rattle the town’s cages good. “You might mention to the pastor, if he needs something to confirm his baseless suspicions, that Sam has given me a very expensive ring to seal our . . .” I stopped, considered and discarded the word friendship, then very deliberately said, “our
relationship.
” Because, nine times out of ten, what did having a relationship mean, except having relations? Let Pastor Ledbetter chew on that for a while.

“I knew you’d be mad,” she said in a subdued tone.

“You couldn’t be more right,” I said, and started to slam down the phone. Then, on second thought, I went on. “But not at you, Emma Sue. Just at people who’re more interested in my personal life than their own, which is what they ought to be looking after. And you know what I mean, or at least you ought to.”

She was silent for a few seconds, then she said, “Larry’s not going to censure you, Julia. He just gets righteously indignant when he thinks people aren’t living right. Then he calms down. I wish you’d talk to him, Julia. You could make him see that you’re not doing anything wrong. At least, I don’t think you are. Then we could keep on being friends in public, just like we’re still friends in private. Pray about it, Julia, and talk to him.”

To my amazement, it was as if her fear that the pastor had become a man about town had never been. But, with the caterers and servers standing around listening to every word I said, I could hardly remind her.

Becoming aware of the commotion in the living room as more guests arrived, I said, “I have to go, Emma Sue. Thank you for your advice, but I have a party to attend to.”

I hung up, then stood leaning over the phone, trying to get my wits about me before facing people who didn’t mind being my public friends. And from the noise emanating from the front rooms, there were plenty of them.

So I straightened up, put on my party face and, seething inside, went out smiling to greet my guests.

The noise level increased as soon as I pushed through the door into the dining room. A quick glance assured me that Hazel Marie had the front door well in hand, welcoming each guest as if she’d been born to it. Tonya stood beside her as Hazel Marie made the introductions. Of course, almost everyone had known Tony all of his life, but fresh introductions were called for in the present circumstances.

Ladies were coming up the walk and crowding onto the porch, squealing greetings to each other and appraising each other’s apparel. They gently pushed toward the door with expectant looks on their faces, as they awaited their turn to come face-to-face with what, on the face of it, was the biggest scandal to hit the town since Wesley Lloyd’s theretofore unknown son and heir became known.

I edged into the dining room, speaking to a few as I went, trying hard to appear above any speculation about either my husband’s affairs or my own suspected one with Sam. Looking around the crowded and noisy rooms, I felt vindicated by the outpouring of the town in response to my invitation. Tonya Allen, in spite of the pastor’s edict to avoid associating with her, was doing exactly what I’d hoped for. She was drawing them in like flies to honey and, because of it, nobody would care two cents what else Wesley Lloyd had done. Or so I hoped, because, upon closer inspection, I noticed one or two clusters of whisperers in the corner of the living room. I saw them look at me, then huddle their heads together again.

I took a deep breath and plunged into their midst determined to hold my head up, come what may.

“Julia!” LuAnne shrieked, as she whirled away from a group of women and flew at me with open arms. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up at your own party.” She gave me a hug as if we didn’t ordinarily see each other several times a week, then she grabbed my hand and said, “Let me see that thing. I’ve heard all about it. My word, Julia, that is a
rock!
”

Then she turned back to the room and called, “Everybody, come see Julia’s ring. You won’t believe it.”

They gathered around me and passed my hand from one to the other with appropriate expressions of admiration and wonder. More than a few eyes viewed it with envy, which filled me with pride of possession, I’m sorry to say.

“I didn’t know Sam Murdoch had it in him to pick out something like that,” someone said. “Much less give it away.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Kathy Morgan said. “You’re so lucky to have a ring like this and Sam, too.”

“What does it mean, Julia?” Amy Broughton asked with a sly smile. “Are we going to have an announcement soon?”

Tonya Allen grasped my hand, turned it this way and that, and said, “Honey, it is absolutely stunning. Listen, you all, if a man gave me something like this, I’d just love him to death.”

That comment momentarily quietened things down, as the ladies glanced at one another. Not a one of us could escape the uncomfortable image of a ring-giving man and a surgically altered Tonya loving on each other.

“Ladies,” I said, mindful of my hostess duties to smooth over any awkward moments, “please go to the table and help yourselves. Helen, would you mind pouring? Emma Sue has been unavoidably detained.”

The rest of the morning entertainment went remarkably well. I had already cautioned Hazel Marie to help me watch for any little gathering of cliques in corners where Tonya might be discussed in whispers. I wanted her talked about later, not while she was a guest in my home. For the time being, Hazel Marie and I had an obligation to protect her from snide remarks and lifted eyebrows. “We have to mingle like we’ve never mingled before,” I’d told Hazel Marie. “Keep things moving,” I’d said, “and let’s make sure that every woman here speaks to Tonya face-to-face. I don’t want anybody to go out of here with some sort of misplaced pride in having socially shunned him. I mean, her.”

And that’s what we did, thrilling Tonya with the way they all flocked around her. I’d never seen anybody enjoy a party so much, although, as I recalled, Tony had always loved being the center of attention. And, if they’d admit it, the other guests enjoyed her, for Tonya sparkled as she handed out compliments to everyone, and delighted us with stories of the New York fashion world.

At one point, Hazel Marie whispered to me, “That’s a
Chanel
suit she’s wearing. Can you believe it?”

At another point, Hazel Marie, even more breathlessly, whispered, “I think there’s something going on with her and Calvin, don’t you?”