Suds In Your Eye (15 page)

‘I can’t stay,’ Kate Logan said. ‘I have to pick Danny up at the destroyer base, and if he got leave we’ll have to start right away because it’s quite a drive over there. We’ll stop by on our way from the base.’

‘Don’t you waste no time on us,’ Mrs. Feeley said. ‘Get on with the marryin’!’

‘It’s right on our way and we both want your blessing. I know Danny does!’

‘Say,’ said Mrs. Feeley, tossing her head, ‘ask him who had to hog-tie him to get him up to school that time in the first place? We gotta get ready for the weddin’! That captain sure better come through with that leave! Reckon it would do any good if I was to go over an’ say a few words to him?’

‘I don’t think it will be necessary. The only delay is due to the fact that they don’t know how long they’ll be here, so time is precious. Kind of a hit-and-run wedding, but things happen fast these days!’

‘Well, you ain’t makin’ no mistake, either one o’ you! There ain’t a better, cleaner boy in the world than Danny, if I do say so. An’ I think he’s the luckiest man in the navy! I’m sure glad you made up your mind to have him! I had my heart set on it from the first night I ever seen you up to school!’

Miss Tinkham came back to report that the orange blossoms hadn’t let her down, and Kate finally got away from her well-wishers.

‘What don’t happen in a year can happen in a hour! For Gawd’s sakes gimme a beer, somebody, while I collect my wits!’

‘Now we have to plan the wedding reception,’ Miss Tinkham said.

‘Gawd, yes!’ said Mrs. Feeley. ‘Good thing we got that check, ’cause this here weddin’ is goin’ to be a ninety-day wonder! We gotta make it a weddin’ that will go down in history! Miss Tinkham, you’ll get ready the music an’ see to the invitin’! Mrs. Rasmussen, you’ll handle the food an’ drinks. Me an’ Old-Timer’ll tend to the decoratin’. Guess they ain’t no use goin shoppin’ till her an’ Danny comes by…’twon’t be but a minute now!’

True to their word, Kate and Danny stopped by to tell them all was well and they were on their way to Yuma. Kate looked lovely in a white linen dress and hat; she carried a white polo coat. Danny was a cheering sight in his dress blues and all his medal-ribbons. Miss Tinkham had made a really exquisite necklace and bracelet of orange blossoms and little waxen buds like pearls. She showed them to Kate and then put them back in the little case of wet banana leaves so they would be fresh at the time of the ceremony.

‘Wish you could go with us,’ Kate said.

‘We can’t, dear; on account o’ we got the weddin’ to fix! But it’s awful nice o’ you to want us!’ said Mrs. Feeley. She stuck her hand in the pocket of her apron and brought out a wide, antique onyx bracelet with a leafy design in seed pearls running around it. She clasped it around Kate’s wrist and said:

‘This was my mother’s weddin’ bracelet, dear. Danny’s grandmother, she was! She’d a been proud for you to wear it! I glory in your spunk!’ She kissed Kate and Danny. ‘God bless the both of you, an’ bring Danny home safe an’ sound.’

‘Gee, Aunty, that’s swell,’ Danny said. ‘I didn’t have a chance to get her a ring or anything!’

‘Your dress is new, ain’t it?’ Mrs. Rasmussen asked. Kate nodded, unable to trust her voice. ‘Well, somethin’ old an’ somethin’ new! I’d like you to have my weddin’ kerchief; it’s old, all right! That linen was wove in the Old Country in my grandmother’s time.’ She handed Kate a gossamer bit of sheer handwoven linen embroidered in tiny strawberries and leaves.

‘But I can’t take it, Mrs. Rasmussen! It’s an heirloom. Work like that belongs in a museum!’ Kate protested.

‘There ain’t nobody in the world I’d rather see have it than you,’ Mrs. Rasmussen replied with simple dignity, and kissed the pair.

‘Something borrowed and something blue!’’ Miss Tinkham came out of her room waving a pale blue satin garter much beruffled. Her gesture provided the necessary comic relief.

‘Time’s a-wastin’!’ Danny cried. ‘I’ve got to rush this woman over there and marry hell out of her before she changes her mind!’

‘But you’ll be back in time for the party?’ his aunt queried.

‘We promise! Not later than six tomorrow night. We’ve really got to hurry now!’

‘Yes, go! An’ God bless you! All the best!’

They watched them drive off amid a terrific clatter. Kate stopped the car and Danny got out to see what caused the din. Old-Timer had tied a bouquet of tin cans to the back of the car by way of expressing his happiness.

‘Gawd!’ said Mrs. Feeley. ‘Here we sit, with all we got to get done! Mrs. Rasmussen, give Old-Timer some money an’ tell him to fill the truck up with gas, ’cause we’ll need it with all the runnin’ around that’s to be did!’

‘G
UESS
I better cash the check first,’ Mrs. Feeley said. ‘Can’t start no operations without the wherewithal! We’ll just get under the wire at the bank if we hurry.’

Mrs. Rasmussen said she would make out the shopping list for the food while they were gone. Miss Tinkham rode on the truck with the other two because she had to go up to school to try to get a list of the class members from the office. School had been out since Monday night and here it was Wednesday. The people would be scattered to the four corners of the earth by this time! She got off at the high school and hurried up the walk while Mrs. Feeley and Old-Timer went on to the bank.

‘Let me see’—Miss Tinkham made notes as she waited—I’ll invite all those who know Miss Logan, and all those who know Danny, and all those who know us! Simple!’

When the secretary finally got around to Miss Tinkham, she told her that they were having the wedding celebration in honor of Miss Logan and Danny at Mrs. Feeley’s.

‘We want to invite the Principal, and all the teachers, and the office staff. It’s tomorrow night at six o’clock, 2600 Island Avenue. You will be sure to come, won’t you? And I’d like to get the addresses of the people in Miss Logan’s classes so we can invite them, please.’

‘We heard Miss Logan was getting married,’ the secretary said. ‘She called up and told the Principal the news just about an hour ago. We’ll all be delighted to come! We’re anxious to see this man of the sea who swept our Katy off her feet!’

‘Isn’t it just too romantic?’ said Miss Tinkham.

‘I’ll call all the faculty, but we are not allowed to give out the addresses of students. I’m sorry!’

‘Oh, dear! What shall I do?’ moaned Miss Tinkham.

The secretary smiled:

‘I tell you what I can do: I can get out all the enrollment cards and call them up myself! I’ll send postcards to all those who don’t have telephones. They’ll get them in plenty of time.’

‘You’re a perfect darling! And I know Miss Logan—or should I say Mrs. Malone?—will be grateful to you. So will the students. They wouldn’t want to miss her wedding!’

‘Don’t worry any more about it. Miss Tinkham. I’ll take care of it right now. See you tomorrow night!’

My! That was a load off her mind. Now she had to get in touch with Danny’s friends. As she walked toward the center of town Miss Tinkham wished she would meet one of her sailor friends; maybe he could tell her how to get inside the base to invite Danny’s shipmates. Maybe she would run into one of them if she stepped into the Tropic for a short beer. She still had two-fifty left of her Tia Juana money.

A pleasant-faced lad was sitting next to her at the bar and she confided her troubles to him.

‘Know the name of the ship, ma’am?’ he asked.

Miss Tinkham nodded and whispered in his ear.

‘Wait just a minute, ma’am,’ he said, and stepped into a telephone booth. In a few minutes he was back with a number. ‘Call this number, ma’am. They just got through connecting the phone from the dock to the ship.’

‘Thank you! Thank you!’ Miss Tinkham cried. She told him the whole story and invited him to the wedding. Then she went off to telephone the ship.

Luck was with her again. The Captain was just preparing to go ashore when she called, but he came back to take the call. He accepted Miss Tinkham’s invitation on behalf of himself and the crew with apparent delight. He said all hands except the duty section would be there without fail.

‘Now, let’s see! Whom have I overlooked?’ Miss Tinkham had another beer and sat down to think things out. ‘The only ones left are our friends…I think I’ll invite that nice…yes, I will!’ And off she went to the telephone. She was in the booth quite a while, but finally emerged with a triumphant smile on her lips.

Back at Noah’s Ark there was a fever of activity. Mrs. Rasmussen was off with Old-Timer in the truck doing the shopping. It had been difficult to figure on how many were coming.

‘Just fix plenty for a mob,’ Mrs. Feeley said. ‘If more comes, we’ll send out and get more eats! We got the money to pay for it if we need it. If they’s too much beer…Hell, listen to me! They ain’t no such thing as too much beer! Get a lotta them barrels, good an ‘cold!’

Mrs. Rasmussen figured four turkeys and four hams would do for a start. Then all kinds of bread and cheese and popcorn and peanuts and some chicken salad; it wouldn’t be a legal wedding without chicken salad! They could all go around and help themselves to whatever they fancied; make their own sandwiches just the way they wanted. She decided it would be prudent to tuck away a ten-dollar bill out of the handful of money Mrs. Feeley had given her; sort of tide them over those lean days at the end of the month.

She stopped at the brewery and ordered the beer C.O.D., and warned them that if it was lukewarm she would bounce it right back in their faces! They promised to send it ice-cold and even lent her a hundred glass beer mugs to be delivered with the first barrels. Old-Timer was not in the truck when Mrs. Rasmussen came out; pretty soon he came out of the brewery wiping foam off his mustache. So that was where he had been!

Mrs. Feeley was nailing green palm leaves to the wall. She had bought a large white-paper wedding bell in one of the dime stores and it hung from the center of the ceiling. When the shoppers returned, she put Old-Timer to work nailing up crêpe-paper streamers, red, white, and blue. They twisted them and fastened the ends just above the wedding bell. When that was done, Mrs. Feeley set to work fixing up Miss Tinkham’s divan into a couch with streamers overhead to serve as a seat of honor for the bride and groom; that was where they would sit to receive their guests. All around the edges of the room she and Old-Timer set wide boards on empty boxes to form benches. They covered the benches with clean sheets.

‘Now all we gotta do is put corn meal on the floor fer the dancin’,’ Mrs. Feeley said, sitting down to wipe her brow. ‘Then we gotta help Mrs. Rasmussen with the chow ’cause she’s got the hardest job!’

Old-Timer brought in a pair of sawhorses and placed boards across them to form a huge improvised table. They covered it with lengths of red and white paper, and Mrs. Feeley folded the red and white crêpe-paper napkins she had bought into fancy shapes. She thought they looked swell, specially the white ones with the wedding designs on them. The table looked fine. Steam from the boiling hams and roasting turkeys was filling the room as Mrs. Rasmussen checked up on large plates and bowls to hold the collation.

There was a knock at the door; it was the very deaf Greek confectioner from the Spanish class.

‘Come right in, mister…’ Mrs. Feeley said; none of them knew his name.

‘I just heard about the party and came to see if I could be of any assistance,’ he shouted in the curiously loud, toneless voice of the very deaf.

He put his hand behind his ear as Mrs. Feeley shouted, ‘Talk to her!’ pointing to Mrs. Rasmussen.

‘I thought maybe having a confectionary, I could make the wedding cake and take that job off your hands!’

Mrs. Rasmussen’s mouth flew open. Good God! She had forgotten the cake! She was so busy thinking of what would go good with the beer that the cake had slipped her mind completely!

‘You’ll certainly be a life-saver if you do!’ she shouted.

‘My wife? I was going to ask if it was all right to bring her too? She don’t come to the class!’ Mrs. Rasmussen wondered how she would ever make him understand. She nodded her head vigorously.

‘Yes! Sure! And the cake! Bake the cake!’

‘Oh, yes! All decorated! A three-tier cake with marzipan filling! Complete with toy bride and groom! Thank you for inviting my wife! I’ll send the cake early in the morning so you won’t be nervous about it!’

By nine o’clock Wednesday night all the food was cooked, the decorating completed, and the occupants of Noah’s Ark in a stupor of fatigue. Miss Tinkham was altering a gown for the reception and Mrs. Rasmussen was pressing her frock when a Western Union boy brought a telegram that said: ‘It was a lovely wedding. At least we thought so.’ It was signed ‘Mr. and Mrs. Daniel C. Malone.’ Mrs. Feeley pinned the telegram to the wedding bell and they all had a cold beer. They were glad they had done all the hard work in advance so they could sleep in tomorrow.

About five o’clock Thursday afternoon the ladies began to don their finery for the reception. The air was electric with excitement. Mrs. Feeley wore a flowered georgette with a matching jacket. Mr. Feeley had always liked it and she hadn’t worn it since he was ‘took.’ Mrs. Rasmussen had on a black lace dress with a little bolero and a red sash. The rose taffeta frock that Miss Tinkham wore was a girlish number with puff sleeves and a very bouffant skirt. It was trimmed with garlands of ribbon roses. The heels of her gold kid evening slippers were pretty badly scuffed, but she didn’t think they would show much because her dress was so much longer in the back than it was in the front.