Sweet Tea and Secrets (8 page)

Jill hurried inside and grabbed her purse so she could run to town and pick up the ingredients she’d need. She knew them by heart. Through the years, she and Pearl had baked their way through every problem that came their way.

“Sorry, Clyde. You can’t come, but I’ll bring you a treat.”

She slammed the door behind her, feeling a renewed energy.

***

With a Spratt’s Market paper shopping bag on each hip, Jill bumped the car door closed and headed to the porch. She could have saved a few bucks by going to the big chain store, but hometown was hometown and folks supported each other that way. Besides, what was better than the smell of those curing hams that hung from the rafters at Spratt’s Market? She probably gained three pounds in water weight just walking into the salty air of that old store, but inhaling that scent was worth it.

Balancing the bags, she carefully negotiated the steps. The old step that used to tattle-tale when she’d get home late no longer creaked. She took a step backwards then up again to re-test it. Not a sound. When she twisted the key she realized the lock clicked without the jiggle-lift-jiggle she’d perfected over the years.

She closed the door behind her and hugged the groceries to her chest. So many memories hung heavy in this place. Instead of immersing herself in them again she went straight to the kitchen to work on the pie.

Every tip Pearl had ever taught her came back. Even the crust came together with no issue. She set the timer and headed for Pearl’s favorite chair to wait for the chocolate and brown-sugar scent to permeate the house.

The worn cushion sank beneath her. The arms of the chair were threadbare from years of overuse. Just outside the window, birds darted from feeder to feeder. Pearl had loved watching her birds. Without averting her eyes from the view, Jill reached to the right of the chair. As expected, a work-in-progress was nestled in the top of Pearl’s knitting basket. She lifted the half-finished blanket and yarn into her lap.

Jill’s fingers lingered in the soft yarn. This was the yarn she’d given Pearl for her birthday. She must have really loved it to have already started a new project.

Jill slipped the knitting needles from the side of the basket. The cool metal rested between her fingers and she began to knit. It only took a few stitches for the rhythm to return, even though she was out of practice. She noticed a dropped stitch and had to back up. On the table next to the chair was a long piece of lavender stationery on which Pearl had jotted the pattern for the blanket. Jill studied it, then click, click, click-click. Lost in the rhythm, the blanket grew in her lap. She and Pearl had spent many fall and winter hours together in this room making blankets and footies for the baskets the church sponsored each Christmas.

Though Pearl’s eyes were not as sharp as they’d once been, and arthritis had taken the better days from her hands, the beginning of this blanket was flawless. Pearl affectionately referred to her arthritis as Arthur, like a pesky guest who had overstayed a visit. She’d say, “Arthur’s givin’ me a fit today. I wish I could make him a sweater, and send him packin’ forever.” That had always made Jill laugh.

With a couple of free afternoons, Jill could finish this project. She clicked out a few more rows, then pulled her feet up in the chair.

“Oh Pearl, losing you isn’t ever going to get easier,” she said, clinging to the handiwork.

She tucked the blanket and the pattern into the top of the basket, but then something caught her eye. Scribbled on the back of the stationery was a note.
Tell Jill about JC,
underlined with a scroll. She ran down her mental list of townspeople with the initials JC, but no one came to mind. She’d have to ask Aunt Milly about it. Jill promised herself she’d finish the blanket. It was the least she could do.

The sweet smell of melted chocolate and sugar drifted into the room. It wouldn’t be long before the pie was ready.

The oven timer sounded from the kitchen. She ran to the kitchen and peeked inside the oven. The warm whoosh of heat hit her the same time the sweet smell enveloped her like one of Pearl’s hugs. The pie was baked to perfection. Jill did a happy dance with the oven mitt after she slid the pie to the cooling rack. She’d take it to the church reception tomorrow. Her way of honoring Pearl.

After a quick clean up of the kitchen counter, it was time to head to town to meet Carolanne for dinner. Jill could hardly wait to see her.

***

As soon as Jill turned into the parking lot of the hotel, she caught a glimpse of Carolanne’s fiery red hair. Jill didn’t bother to properly park, just pulled in right behind Carolanne and jumped out to give her a hug.

“I’m so glad to see you.” Jill pulled back and then hugged her again. “Thank you for coming. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I know. Me either. She always seemed invincible.”

There weren’t any other words for what they were feeling so they shared a quiet moment.

Carolanne broke the silence. “Do you want some supper?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re starved.”

Carolanne shook her head. “Not really. You okay if we just get munchies and veg-out here at the hotel like old times?”

“This is why you’re my best friend. Come on. I’ll drive.”

The girls jumped in Jill’s beamer and headed to the store.

“Nice ride, gal. Looks like Bradley is treating you pretty good. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“That topic is off limits until another time. I can’t even talk about it yet.”

“Uh-oh, then I won’t ask, but I’m here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks for not asking.” Jill pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed back into town. “By the way, New York has done a chic number on you, hasn’t it? I love your hair.”

“Yeah, they didn’t think my old hairdo was hip enough, so they talked me into a little modification. Doesn’t look all that different to me, just a little shorter, and flipped under instead of back.”

“I like it.”

“Have you been over to the house yet?”

“I spent the night there last night, and all day.” Jill’s chest tightened as she recalled how empty it had felt. Empty. And lonely. “It’s weird without Pearl there. I kept feeling like she was going to scuff down the hall any minute.” A tear slid down Jill’s cheek.

Carolanne reached across and brushed it away. “I wish we were getting together for anything but this.”

“Me, too.” Jill wished she had a little advice from Pearl about how to get through all of this.

Whether it was a year or a day, Jill and Carolanne always picked right up where they’d left off. Tonight that meant a trip to Spratt’s Market for comfort food and wine. Then back to the hotel for some good-old-girlfriend consolation. Better than therapy. They laughed and cried until neither could keep their eyes open. They made plans to drive over to Pearl’s in the morning and get ready, check on Clyde, and wait for Macy to pick them up.

***

By nine o’clock in the morning the temperature had already hit ninety degrees with humidity so high that going outside was like walking into a wet sweater. Jill and Carolanne got ready for the funeral. Jill kept checking for Bradley, but she was disappointed every time she ran to the front door only to be met by a delivery or another neighbor checking in.

By late afternoon, the heat hadn’t given up its grip, but that didn’t stop anyone from dressing in their Sunday finest on this Saturday to pay their respects to Pearl Clemmons.

Bradley hadn’t shown up, but Jill hadn’t given that a second thought since she’d stepped out of Macy’s navy blue limousine with Carolanne and Aunt Milly.

Sitting in the front pew next to Carolanne before Pearl’s service started, Jill’s arms and legs felt heavy, her life small and empty. She concentrated on the light that streamed through the stained glass windows across the floor. A breeze moved the trees outside, throwing shadows across the bands of colorful light that made them appear to dance.

The congregation hummed with muffled chatter between friends and families. The old church was full, forcing new arrivals to line the back wall. A few latecomers cozied into the remaining space, as the strong sound of the organ filled the room.

Aunt Milly slipped into the pew next to Jill, giving her a light peck on the cheek. Garrett gave Jill’s shoulder a squeeze as he sat behind Milly.

Milly rambled in a loud whisper to the people seated behind them. “The whole town is in shock. Pearl made the dessert for the buffet dinner after choir practice just the night before—you know. It was lovely, so lovely. But then, you know Pearl. She never did do anything half way.” Milly turned back around and patted Jill’s leg.

Jill nodded, unable to say a word. She relived her last conversation with Pearl. Pearl had shared the latest gossip, right down to the Hooters girl that Ricky Owens brought home when he showed up announcing he’d dropped out of college. Pearl and Ricky Owens’ grandmother had been members of this church for years, and it was no secret how competitive the two of them were. Whether it was bragging rights on grandchildren, or bake-offs, Pearl always came out ahead. That drove Mrs. Owens nuts.

Aunt Milly wrapped her bony fingers around Jill’s balled fist. “You’re a strong girl, Jill, just like your grandmother.”

Jill didn’t feel strong.

“She’s very proud of you, dear.”

Jill could barely swallow. She held her hand to her chest, willing herself to breathe.

Reverend Burke brought the group to order with a prayer. All heads bowed. Reverend Burke’s commanding voice reverberated, one single voice, one big message until the amen that seemed to echo forever. The organ struck a chord, bringing everyone’s attention to the front where young Allison Lynn Craddock began to sing “How Great Thou Art” in a voice so pure it lifted Jill’s spirit.

The Reverend shared his own stories about Pearl’s many contributions to the small community and this church. “There was a lesson for each of us in how Pearl lived her life. She was the voice of reason when things got hectic, and she could simplify the most complicated situations. Pearl was first to give of herself, and nobody made better sweet tea than Pearl.”

“Sweet tea. She told me to say it like it was one word. Can’t have tea without the sweet, she’d say.” Reverend Burke smiled wide. Deep lines etched his face, and his eye glistened.

“Pearl said I was officially a surrogate southerner once I learned how to say that right. Sweet tea and y’all.” Everyone in the church chuckled.

He invited the congregation to share their own memories. Person after person took their turn at the podium. Pearl had helped so many folks find their way. Not because she set out to do so. It had just been in her nature to be there, to share advice, and never pass judgment. Okay, well maybe she did her share of talking smack, but even then it was never without the intent of helping in some way. These memories people shared were special ones meant to comfort, but they only ripped the hole in Jill’s heart wider—if that was possible.

The moan of the organ vibrated the wooden pew beneath her. Carolanne guided Jill to her feet and toward the church doors. Garrett rested a reassuring hand on Jill’s shoulder as he and Milly followed them out. The others filed out behind them.

Pearl had left her mark.

Graveside, the flowers wrapped the area so deep it was like standing in a meadow. The outpouring of love and respect was overwhelming as everyone settled around Pearl’s final resting place.

They waited as the long line of people made the short walk to the church cemetery. Jill stood under the sun, shivering. Someone draped their sport coat over her shoulders. She was powerless to move, but thankful for the comfort. The decision not to have chairs at the brief graveside committal had made sense at the time, but she regretted it now. People filled in around the tented area four and five deep.

Jill clenched her fist. Her nails dug into her own flesh, her other hand wrapped tightly around it—as if opening her hand might let the last memories of Pearl escape.

Not even one contrail slashed through the blue sky today. Too perfect a day for such a sad affair. With trembling fingers, Jill tugged her black sunglasses down. Squeezing her eyes shut behind the dark lenses had caused the tears to puddle. She swept the tears from her cheek, and from her chin where they’d spilled.

Her line of sight narrowed, as did her throat, and though she was just feet from Reverend Burke, she could barely hear his words as he began to speak.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...”

She clutched a lace handkerchief to her heart. Someone wrapped their arms around her from behind and then eased her back against his strong chest. Black onyx and pearl cufflinks secured the crisp white cuff that rested on her arm. Not Bradley’s arms. Pearl had given those cuff links to Garrett on the day he graduated from college. As if it had been yesterday, Jill remembered the look on Pearl’s face as she watched Garrett open the gift. Pearl had given Jill the matching pearl necklace that day. Jill reached up and slid the pendant on its chain.