The Sweetest Thing (14 page)

We finally shooed Parthenia off to bed, and breathlessly I told Dobbs all about the Joan Crawford movie and how Spalding had kissed me on the cheek and offered me his handkerchief. “It was all so very romantic!” Then I had an idea. “Dobbs, do you think that you and Hank would go on a date with Spalding and me while Hank is here?”

“You really like him, don't you.”

“Oh yes. He's such a gentleman and most dashingly good-looking, and I think he's taken a fancy to me for some odd reason.”

Dobbs looked unconvinced. “Perri, you're so pretty and feminine, and oodles of guys fancy you.”

“But he's practically a college graduate. Why think of it! He might some day consider marriage, and it could be sooner than later, and if we married, well, for goodness' sakes, he's so rich I know we'd be just fine. Can't you just see it?”

Her face, so lovely, so often filled with enthusiasm, fell, and she grabbed my hands. “Anne Perrin Singleton. You take your time. You don't have to marry a rich guy to save your family. I tell you—the Lord's going to provide. He will. I just know it.” Then, probably seeing the disappointment on my face, she added, “But of course Hank and I would be happy to go on a double date with you and Spalding. That would be our pleasure.”

Before I turned out the light in the barn, I glanced back at the photos hanging on the line, a row of shiny black-and-white rectangles. A stream of light caught on the one of Dobbs stretched out on the bed, and I secretly congratulated myself for having taken such a fine photo.

Dobbs came beside me and pointed to a photo of Dellareen and the ice cream maker in front of my house. She said matter-of-factly, “Taking photos is your future, Perri Singleton. I guarantee it.”

I switched off the light, and Dobbs locked the door to the darkroom, and we gave a carrot to Dynamite, who nickered to us softly as we stepped into the hallway of the barn. “Thanks, Dobbs, for the vote of confidence.” I felt again as light as the breeze, swept along with happy thoughts. A photographer! My future! But just in case Dobbs was mistaken, I had another key to the future: Spalding Smith.

CHAPTER

12

Dobbs

The letter from Mother arrived during exams.

Dearest Mary Dobbs,

Father has heard of the tragedy that has descended on the poor people in Oklahoma and Texas—they are calling it the Black Blizzard of dust. Crops ruined, people homeless—as if their lives were not already so horrible. We will be traveling there to hold tent meetings this summer. As such, we have discussed the possibility of Frances and Coobie staying in Atlanta with you at the Chandlers'. We feel this is God's provision and protection, especially with Coobie's chronic bronchitis—which hasn't been acting up lately, thank the Good Lord. But surely all that dust would be dangerous for her.

Your sisters will come to Atlanta with Hank next week and stay with you throughout the summer. Your father has spoken with Aunt Josie and she is quite satisfied with the idea. I hope you are not too disappointed. I know you were looking forward to coming back to Chicago this summer.

I am so anxious to see you when your father and I come down for the revival. Only a few weeks away.

Oodles of love,

Mother

On the last Saturday in May, while all the other Washington Seminary girls were rejoicing at the end of exams and hurrying to one or another country club for a swim, I prepared myself to meet Hank and Coobie and Frances. I chose the second of the two dresses Aunt Josie had bought me, a pretty soft yellow with a white lace collar and white leather belt. I spent too much time fiddling with my hair, finally deciding to wear it down long, the way Hank liked.

I wanted to be alone when I picked them up at Terminal Station, but I did not feel comfortable driving a car, not to mention that Aunt Josie didn't volunteer to let me use theirs. Hosea was ready to take me, but Perri finally convinced everyone that she could drive us. She knew how—most everyone did by the time they turned fifteen—but she was a bit skittish behind the wheel.

“You're a pack of nerves, girl,” I said. She laughed, putting along toward the train station, hands gripping the steering wheel as if it might fly away if she didn't. I actually thought she looked more nervous than I probably did.

Perri killed the engine twice, and we ended up being a few minutes late. She let me out at the entrance to Terminal Station while she parked the car. I got to the platform out of breath and stood on my tiptoes to see over several men who were in front of me. I finally spotted them. Hank was walking toward me with Coobie perched on his back and a suitcase in each arm. Frances was talking animatedly to Hank, but he was looking straight ahead, neck craned and eyes shining.

Coobie saw me first. “Dobbsy! Dobbsy!” she called out, all exuberance, her pale face, framed by an abundance of black curls, lighting up with a smile. She slid off of Hank's back and galloped over to me, dodging in and out of the crowd. Nothing planned or primped about Coobie.

I ran to her, picked her up, and swung her around. “Coobs! It's so great to see you.” When Hank and Frances arrived, I hugged Frances first, and she said, “Hi, Sis,” sounding a bit aloof. She'd pulled her dark brown hair back with a headband, and she was wearing a pale blue dress I'd outgrown that fit her nicely and showed off her developing chest.

Then I turned to Hank, my heart hammering away, and I had no idea what to say. He towered over me, his sandy hair a little ruffled from Coobie's holding to it. He was wearing the gray suit he had for revival meetings, and I thought he looked marvelously handsome. His face broke into a wide grin. “Dobbs!”

He set down the suitcases, then picked me up and twirled me around, and I knew it was all okay. He still felt the same way. We stood there looking into each other's eyes and grinning a bit foolishly. Then Perri hurried through the crowd, lifted her eyebrows, and I saw the perfect little red spots on each cheek. I went over to her and said, “Perri, I want you to meet my sisters, Frances and Coobie, and my friend, Hank.”

Right away, Coobie gave Perri one of her impromptu hugs, saying, “We've heard all about you and have been praying for you and your family, and Dobbsy is right—you're downright beautiful.”

Perri's spots darkened, but her green eyes sparkled with the compliment.

Frances said, “Yes, it's very nice to meet you,” and Hank said, “Thanks for taking such good care of our sweet Dobbs.”

At that moment, standing there with my best friend and my boyfriend and my two sisters, life seemed absolutely perfect. I twirled around and gave a laugh. “I am so incredibly happy to have you all here. I think I'm the happiest girl in the world!”

Everyone laughed, and Coobie took Perri's hand and then Frances's, and they started walking ahead of Hank and me. Looking back over her shoulder, Coobie said, “You can kiss her if you want, Hank. I don't think Father would disapprove after all you two discussed.”

Poor Hank blushed from his hairline down to his neck. He didn't kiss me, but he reached out and rubbed Coobie hard on the head and then picked up the suitcases, and I stayed ever so close to him as we walked out of Terminal Station.

Perri let us off at the Chandlers'. Coobie and Frances hopped out of the car and just stood and stared at the house. “Oh my, oh my, oh my,” Frances whispered. “This is some place!”

Coobie balled her fists together, closed her eyes, and scrunched up her face. Then she opened her eyes again and began jumping up and down, so that her black curls jiggled softly. “It's real! It's a fairy castle and it's real! Just like in the pictures Mother showed us.”

Hank busied himself with the luggage, and Perri pulled me aside. “I can't stay, Dobbs. The vans are arriving at one to pick up the horses.”

“You going to be okay?” I asked her.

“I'll be fine. You enjoy Hank. Don't think about another thing, okay?” As she got back in the Buick, she looked at me, her eyes shining, her cheeks red, and she said, “Oh, Dobbs, he
is
swell. One look at him, and you can tell he's just crazy for you. And he's so good-looking, but more than that . . . He's, he's just
good
. Yeah, that's it. He oozes goodness. I'm so happy for you.” Then she started the engine and putted along, leaning forward, in deep concentration.

Aunt Josie came out the side door and greeted us warmly, letting Coobie envelop her in a spontaneous hug. “Mighty nice to have y'all here,” she said, looking like a robust mother hen, clucking at her chicks. She showed Coobie and Frances up to Becca's room, where they would be staying. The room had two single beds in it, and when she opened the closet for Hank to set down the suitcases, my sisters ran inside and stared in wonder at the beautiful dresses and gowns, giggling and pushing each other, with Coobie whispering way too loudly, “This closet's bigger than our bedroom!”

“Anyone hungry?” Aunt Josie asked, after she'd installed Hank in the downstairs guest bedroom.

Coobie chimed in, “I'm practically starving,” and Frances elbowed her in the side and whispered, “Don't be so rude!”

Parthenia served us lunch, and when she saw Coobie, she asked me, “Is this yore little sista' who's seven and two-thirds?”

I laughed and gave Coobie a wink. “This is she.”

Coobie narrowed her dark eyes and said, “Who are you?”

“I'm Parthenia Jeffries”—she gave a little curtsy—“and I used ta be eight and three-quarters, but my birthday is coming up real soon, so then I'll be flat-out nine.”

Hank laughed out loud, which made Parthenia smile.

Coobie frowned, then remembered her manners. “Nice to meet you, Parthenia.” I could tell she was concentrating on something, and finally she said, rather brightly, “Well, I'm not seven and two-thirds anymore, 'cause my birthday is coming up soon too, and then I'll be flat-out eight!”

Aunt Josie cleared her throat, and Parthenia scooted back to the kitchen to bring out the hot rolls, but later, after she had cleaned up from lunch, she came up to Coobie and asked, “You wanna see the bracelet my mama gave me for my last birthday?”

Coobie nodded, so Parthenia took her hand and off they went. Coobie didn't even bother to ask permission to be excused from the table, which didn't surprise me one bit.

Frances just rolled her eyes and said, “She's the rudest kid in the world.”

Aunt Josie busied herself with something, and Frances pronounced herself exhausted by the two-day-long train ride and went upstairs to lie down. I could have kissed them both for leaving me time alone with Hank.

Hank changed into a white T-shirt and his work overalls, and we walked out to the back of the property, hand in hand. I showed him the barn and the darkroom and the servants' quarters, where Parthenia and Coobie were playing. Continuing down the hill, we came to the lake. It sparkled a lovely blue green in the May sun, and the scents of roses and honeysuckle, jasmine and peaches, all mixed together gave off an almost exotic aroma, but as we sat side by side on a stone bench, our shoulders touching, I think we were mainly just breathing in the fragrance of each other.

“I've missed you something awful,” I said at last.

“Me too, Dobbs. I go to work every day with a lump in my throat, and it doesn't go away 'til I get home and find a letter from you.”

We sat there for the longest time, not needing to say a word.

Perri was right about Hank. He had a simple goodness about him, a lack of pretension. Kindness and goodness mixed together and topped off with physical strength and fortitude. He had strong, sturdy shoulders, and on them I thought he could carry the burdens of the world. He'd carried enough as a child and teen—his father's death when he was ten, starting work at the steel factory when he was twelve to help his mother pay the bills for the family. He finished high school while holding down two jobs, and I don't think he ever complained. He carried things inside, silently, but I knew the strength came from a rock-solid faith in almighty God, and his faith encouraged mine. For as spontaneous and vivacious as I was, Hank had a special calmness in his soul that seemed to me unshakable. I think Father appreciated this quality too, knowing that, with his own fiery temperament, he could use a co-laborer who breathed stability.

“You've gone and gotten all sophisticated on me, Dobbs,” Hank said, interrupting my thoughts. “That's a real pretty dress.”

“I didn't mean to. Aunt Josie bought this dress for me. Do you mind terribly?”

“Not a bit. You look splendid, more beautiful than ever. I hope there aren't too many boys fighting for your attention.”

“Oh, not a one. I don't even see boys. I told Perri I wasn't interested in parties and boys coming over—that's what they do down here—boys just come over any ol' time of the day or night and sit on a girl's porch and talk and talk. But I told her I have you, and so the boys leave me alone.”

We sat there in silence. A small fish, perhaps a bass, soared out of the lake and twisted back in, causing a long ripple. I watched the water moving gently.

Finally, almost meekly, Hank said, “There's something I need to tell you, and I guess now's about as good a time as any.” He pushed a hand through his hair and looked straight at me. “I've lost my job. They closed the steel mill last week—incorporating it into the U.S. Steel down in Gary, Indiana. Three hundred of us were laid off, and most of those men with families to feed. We're hoping some jobs will open in the other mills around Lake Michigan. And there's a possibility I may get a job at the World's Fair this summer.”

We were sitting all cuddled together, the lake shining in front of us, and Hank had put his arm around me. I wanted to forget everything except the ecstasy of being with him. But his words “lost my job” had stopped me short, and I couldn't think of anything to say.

“It's okay, Dobbs.” He looked me in the eyes, and his were that blue violet, bright but calm. “The Lord will provide. I know He will; you know it too. He always does. I'll get a job and you'll finish your high school down here, and then we can think about a future. Your father is mighty happy to know of my intentions, and nothing in the whole world could make me change my mind. Don't you worry about anything.”

I nodded, but I was thinking how Father had always said that the Chicago steel mills would never close.

“I'm afraid of being poor,” I whispered, clasping his hands.

And then it all tumbled out about the people in Atlanta thinking they were poor when they had so much and the way I didn't fit in at Washington Seminary and about Peggy's meanness and how I felt more and more ostracized from the girls. I told him about Father's wild years and wondering why we had no money. I even mentioned my reservations about Spalding Smith. On and on I talked about my life for the past two-and-a-half months.

Hank knew how to listen, not just with his eyes, which followed me intently, but his body posture, leaning forward, interested. I felt a huge relief at having told him everything, more than I had ever said in my letters, and peacefulness settled on me, sitting beside him with his arm draped over my shoulder. I wished we could have sat there forever.

At length he stood up, offered me his hand, and pulled me up beside him. “You've got the rest of the afternoon to show me around.”

“That, Hank, will be my great pleasure. Mighty fine. Splendid indeed. Swell.”

He cocked his head and grinned down at me. “You're talking differently, and you've picked up a Southern accent.”

I wondered for the briefest second if I hadn't picked up a lot more than that.

Perri

For two months, Mr. Robinson had been trying to find buyers for our horses. At last, he did. I hadn't spent a single minute in the barn after Daddy's death, but the day the horse vans arrived in front of the house, I got a horrible stomachache and knew I had to see the horses one more time. Mr. Robinson said we'd gotten a good bit of money for the Thoroughbreds, and they were all going to a fashionable stable in Virginia, to a family that, I supposed, wasn't counting their pennies as we were.