The Scent of Lilacs (23 page)

“I hope it’s a sign that she might make us another cake,” Jocie said. “We ate the last of it last night after we got home from church. Even Aunt Love said it was the best chocolate cake she’d ever eaten.”

“You should try to get your Aunt Love to invite Leigh for supper sometime.”

“I thought it was Dad you wanted to invite Leigh somewhere.”

“Well, we can’t depend on David. Leave it up to him and he’d
never get past go with any girl,” Zella said. “And this may be his only opportunity to get a really nice girl.”

“Who can cook,” Wes chimed in.

“And do the twist,” Jocie said. “And sing along with Elvis.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being young,” Zella said.

“That’s not what you usually tell me,” Jocie said.

“Young and nice is different than young and smart-alecky, Jocelyn Brooke,” Zella said as she went back out into the front office. The pressroom door slammed shut behind her.

“Uh-oh. Now she’ll tell Dad, and I’ll have to listen to the ‘be respectful to my elders’ lecture,” Jocie said. “And I’ve been trying really hard to stay out of trouble.”

“Nah, Zell won’t be telling on you this week. She wants you to help her with her matchmaking plans with Leigh.”

“I liked Leigh. She talked to me like you do, not like I’m some stupid kid who doesn’t know straight up about anything. But I just can’t imagine Daddy listening to Elvis or doing the twist.”

“Folks will surprise you sometimes. Even daddies.” Wes put his hand on Jocie’s shoulder. “But we’ve done our part. We brought it to your father’s attention that Leigh is female and has recognized that he is male. Now we have to let him do his part, whether it’s listening to Elvis or just ignoring the whole thing and letting Leigh move on to some other feller.”

“Leigh says there aren’t any other single men in Hollyhill besides you, and she’s too afraid of your motorcycle to make eyes at you.”

“Plus, I could be her father. Maybe her grandfather.”

“You’re not that old. Of course, it could be she just doesn’t want to intrude on Zella’s territory.”

Wes laughed. “That’s a good one. I’d have more chance with your Aunt Love than old Zell out there. She has a positive aversion to anything Jupiterian.”

The next day dawned clear and hot. By the time the parade started forming in the high school parking lot at noon, heat was rising off the sidewalks and people were crowding in under the scarce midday shade of storefront awnings. They tried to wave back the heat with the “Service with Dignity” Hazelton Funeral Home fans Junior and Rita Hazelton were passing out for their father. Hazelton’s was the only funeral home in Hollyhill, but Gordon Hazelton didn’t want folks to think he took their dying and coming to him for their funerals for granted.

Nobody could remember Hollyhill ever having a Fourth of July parade before, and plenty of folks had come out to see what there was to see. The stores along Main Street all had “Sale” signs in the windows to entice people inside. Fans swished around the hot air in the older stores, while the newer ones cranked up their air conditioners to fight against the swinging doors as customers streamed in and out more in search of cool air than bargains.

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offices didn’t have air-conditioning, but fans were roaring. Aunt Love and Tabitha had come to watch the parade from the big front window. Zella was out at the high school, ready with extra tissue paper if a hole was spotted in the First Baptist float. Jocie loaded her camera, stuck an extra roll of film in her pocket, and went out hunting some paper-selling shots. Her father told her to zero in on kids watching the parade or kids on the floats. He would take pictures of the floats and the politicians.

Wes went up the street to get Aunt Love and Tabitha some lemonade from the Girl Scouts’ stand by the post office. The high school pep club and the Hollyhill Church of God had bake sales going in front of the banks. The icing on the cupcakes was melting in the heat, but nobody seemed to care as they licked their fingers and listened for the high school band to get the parade started.

Jocie snapped a couple of shots of kids sitting on the edge of the sidewalk peering down toward the high school. Then she took a picture of little Jamie Ray Jones up on his daddy’s shoulders. She felt lucky when she caught sight of Myron Haskins sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse, both hands resting on his cane propped out in front of him like a podium. She took three pictures from different angles and even took the chance of asking Mr. Haskins what he thought about the parade. The band was still just tooting and drumming haphazardly, which surely meant the parade hadn’t formed ranks.

He frowned at her. “It’s a fine thing if it’ll get you young folks to see that freedom’s worth fighting for, to know that it has been fought for, that men died so we can march down this street.”

“Yes, sir,” Jocie said and began edging away.

“A man should be proud to serve his country, not try to get out of being drafted the way boys do nowadays.” He reached out and thumped Jocie on the arm. “We ran to the enlistment office in my day.”

“Yes, sir,” Jocie repeated. “I’m sure the mayor will be recognizing your service when he gives his speech later.” Jocie glanced over at the empty wagon set up across from the courthouse where the dignitaries would gather after they rode in the parade. “And everybody in Hollyhill knows what you did for your country.”

Mr. Haskins raised his cane and stabbed it toward her. Jocie backed out of range. “Nobody can know what we did except the ones who were there. War isn’t something you can know about unless you’re a soldier.”

“Yes, sir,” Jocie said one last time and slipped out of sight behind the Civil War monument beside Mr. Haskins. She crossed the street and headed back toward the high school to see if the parade had started. The crowd was growing, and a couple of kids from school yelled at her to take their pictures. She pretended to push the shutter while they struck a pose. She didn’t like posed
pictures. She liked catching people unaware. Like Jimmy Sanders sitting cross-legged on top of the metal awning in front of his father’s hardware store. He must have climbed out the upstairs window and slid into position.

The even rat-a-tat of drums signaled that the parade had at long last left the high school and was headed downtown. The people edged away from the shade of the buildings, closer to the street, pushing their kids in front of them. Jocie eased through the crowd to take up position in front of the concrete trash can by the Five and Dime store.

A couple of Eagle Scouts carried the American and Kentucky flags in front of the mayor in the first car. He’d appointed himself grand marshal of the parade, since the whole thing had been his idea and nobody had come up with anybody famous. They’d thought about asking Stu Williams, who had been a starter on the University of Kentucky basketball team twenty years ago, but he’d moved to South Carolina some years back and hadn’t been back to Hollyhill more than twice since he’d got out of college. As Jocie watched the mayor ride by, she thought they should have asked old Mr. Haskins.

The next few cars carried the city council members and the county judge. Jocie didn’t bother even to practice focus. She wasn’t going to waste her film on yawner pictures. The band marched into view, and Jocie caught a shot of William Pickens twirling his drumsticks and Judy Lester carrying her trumpet. Judy, a junior next year, rode Jocie’s bus and had promised to show her the ropes when she went to high school next fall.

The mayor’s granddaughter and Hollyhill High prom queen, Judith Palmor, smiled and waved from her perch on the top of the backseat of a red and white Corvette convertible. She wore a blue sundress and held a small American flag. Every few feet she threw some peppermint candy out on the street where kids pounced on it. Jocie snapped a picture of Judith waving, then
grabbed a piece of peppermint to see if the mayor’s name was on the candy wrapper, but it was just plain cellophane.

Zella’s float was first. The tissue paper flag wasn’t half bad. At least you could tell it was supposed to be a flag. The kids on the float stood with their hands over their hearts repeating the pledge over and over. Next, 4-H Club members dressed in green and white held up paper four-leaf clovers with white H’s. Jocie ran alongside the float to get a shot of Heather Byrd’s border collie sitting at attention on the front of the wagon. Jocie wished her father would let Zeb come to work with them. Boys in the Future Farmers of America Club dangled their feet off the edge of their wagon and waved as they passed. They hadn’t bothered decorating the wagon, but they were wearing their blue FFA jackets in spite of the heat. Scout troops and Little League baseball teams decked out in their uniforms walked behind the floats. Jocie took pictures as fast as she could focus and wind.

Five or six kids followed on bikes decorated with red crepe paper, flags, and signs. Bennie Drury spotted Jocie with her camera and popped a wheelie right in front of her, but she shrugged and pretended she’d used up her film. She didn’t want Bennie to get the idea she liked him or something.

Ponies and horses with tiny American flags stuck in their bridles and saddle horns spread out across the street after the bikes. Jocie spotted five-year-old Marvin Sims in an oversized cowboy hat sitting on top of a big Appaloosa. Jocie crouched down low to focus in so the horse would look even bigger and Marvin even littler.

Bringing up the rear of the parade was the town’s new fire truck. Fire chief Baxter Hill hit the siren every few minutes and kept his lights flashing. A couple of volunteer firemen hung on to the back and pitched out more candy. Jocie used up the rest of her film on kids scrambling for the candy. She could hear the band playing “The Star Spangled Banner” down in front of the
courthouse, but she headed for the news office to turn in her film to Wes instead of going down the street. Her dad had said he’d cover the politicians.

She’d forgotten about Aunt Love and Tabitha watching the parade from the office until she pushed through the door and set the bell on top to jangling. “Where’s the fire?” Tabitha asked.

“No fire. Just the paper to run.” Jocie paused in her headlong rush back to the pressroom to look at Tabitha, who was sitting alone in a line of three chairs pulled up to the window. “Where’s Aunt Love?”

“She and that Leigh woman went down the street to hear the speeches. I told them I’d rather stay here and nap.”

“Leigh was here?”

“Yep. Dad saw her on the street and told her to come up and watch from here.”

“Oh,” Jocie said.

“Yeah,” Tabitha said. “I think Dad might finally be over DeeDee.”

“Well, Leigh’s nice.”

“Nice.” Tabitha made a face. “That’s the worst thing you can say about anybody. Better to be pretty. Or fun. Best of all, sexy. That’s what makes men notice.”

“I think Dad might rather have nice.”

“No, all guys like sexy. Even old guys in the Bible. Remember King David and Bathsheba? That’s a pretty hot story.”

“I thought you’d forgotten everything you knew about the Bible,” Jocie said.

“Aunt Love’s been reading some Bible stories to me to refresh my memory.”

“Well, if it’s true that all guys want sexy, then I guess we won’t have to worry about Leigh being our stepmother.”

Tabitha smiled. “I don’t know about that. Just because we don’t think Leigh’s sexy doesn’t mean Dad might not. Besides, it might
be good if he was married.” Tabitha’s smile disappeared. “It might be good if I was married.”

“You probably could be if you wanted to be. You’re pretty, and you look sexy.”

“Oh yeah. No doubt. That’s my problem. I’m too sexy for my own good.” Tabitha looked straight at Jocie. “Guess now’s as good a time to tell you as any, since you’re way too innocent to ever notice on your own. I’m going to have a baby.”

Y
ou’re going to have a baby?” Jocie echoed. “So that explains it.”

“Explains what?” Tabitha asked.

“How you’re getting fat eating Aunt Love’s cooking.”

Tabitha put her hands on her stomach and burst out laughing.

Jocie looked at her as if she were crazy. “It wasn’t that funny.”

Finally Tabitha wiped her eyes and said, “You guys are a hoot. Here I worry overtime about how everybody is going to be ashamed of me, and Daddy just says wow, he’s going to be a grandfather and you just look relieved you weren’t wrong about Aunt Love’s cooking. Maybe I won’t have to wear a scarlet A after all.”