by Pam Webber
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“As you should be.”
“It was an accident.”
“I’m sure it was. But you are still responsible.”
“Yes, ma’am. I am responsible for the flying ham.”
“And the rest.”
“No, ma’am. It seems to me your dress and the tablecloth did the rest.”
“Are you saying the damage is my fault?”
Win went silent as her balloon dress stopped quivering and started swaying.
Nettie took a deep breath and slipped through the door to stand next to her friend. “No, ma’am. She’s just telling the truth as she saw it. She’s as honest as the day is long.”
The incensed president started to speak but paused to study Nettie. “Do you normally involve yourself in other people’s business, young lady?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I see. Then I assume you two are friends?”
“Yes, ma’am, since we could walk.”
President Woods leaned back in the chair, her shoulders relaxing, face softening. She looked back and forth between Nettie and Win. “Telling truth to power is not easy. It takes confidence and courage. As does standing up for a friend.” President Woods rose and walked to the front of the desk. “While I would have preferred to discover these admirable personality traits another way, I’m impressed. You two may be exactly what Sweet Briar is looking for.”
Slipping through the back door of the boathouse, Nettie and Win changed into the shorts and shirts they’d stashed earlier. Hanging their dresses on oar hooks to keep them wrinkle-free for the dance, they pulled the bobby pins out of their hair and traded their shiny patent leather shoes for flip-flops.
Hurrying past the booths and gaming areas, they headed to the far end of the quad, where jousting riders were mounting their steeds. The first rider galloped by on a tall gray Appaloosa. The power of the horse shook the ground, while its gracefulness allowed the rider to stand steady in the stirrups. Toes straight, knees tight, the rider leveled his lance and raced to the far end of the course, where he speared the middle of an inch-wide ring dangling from a pole. The crowd cheered as horse and rider cantered back.
Win shook her head. “I don’t know how they do that. Those lances are really heavy.”
“When there’s a lot at stake, you’d be surprised at what you can do. First place gets five hundred dollars.” Nettie scanned the crowd. “I don’t see Andy anywhere. C’mon. Maybe he’s already at the pavilion. They should be crowning the king and queen anytime now.”
Winding through throngs of people and up the steps, Nettie and Win arrived as trumpeters in feudal costumes played the royal fanfare. Jostling to see, Nettie froze. Coming to a standstill under a canopy of pink and green streamers, Andy and Anne Johnson awaited their coronation.
Nettie stared at Anne while Anne stared at Andy, her hand wrapped around his finely suited arm, again. Andy met Nettie’s gaze just as Win pulled her backward through the crowd.
Sunset pushed the leafy shadow of the chestnut tree up the copper roof of Sweet Briar’s long stable. Mesmerized by the glow, Nettie had lingered in the tree’s shade most of the afternoon, numb. Music floating up from the concert in the dell forced her back to the here and now. “I can’t believe I lost Andy to that snob.”
Win lay in the grass nearby, an arm over her eyes, almost asleep. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Are you kidding? You saw them.”
“I saw what you saw: two people being named king and queen. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Dammit, Win. Andy and Anne aren’t just any two people.”
Win pushed up onto her elbows. “Look, I think you have this all wrong. Most people our age don’t have a clue about what love is, including me. But something tells me Andy does. He made up his mind about you a long time ago, and I don’t think Anne or anyone else is going to change that, despite what we saw at the hardware store and the pavilion.”
“He sure has a funny way of showing it. No wonder Anne smirked at me all during that stupid luncheon.”
“I still say don’t jump to conclusions. Besides, maybe you need to figure out what you’re more upset about, the possibility of losing Andy, or of losing him to Anne.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, and, to be fair to Andy, you need to figure it out sooner, rather than later.”
“Leave it to you to make my head hurt even more.”
“You want to go home?”
“No. Let’s go to the boathouse and change for the dance. I may have been dumped, but I don’t have to act like it.”
Lights strung around the pavilion twinkled as Nettie and Win came up the steps. Folks milled around, talking, sipping punch, and waiting for the dancing to start.
Nettie forced smiles and feigned indifference as friends sent I’m sorry looks and uncomfortable little waves. “This was a mistake.” She turned for the exit.
Win grabbed her arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. You had the strength to get here; now find the courage to stay. And, for gosh sakes, don’t give Anne Johnson the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Time to choose happy.”
“Now’s a hell of a time to bring that up.” Choosing to be happy when you didn’t have a reason to be was something Nettie had learned the previous summer, during her family’s vacation in the Alabama Wiregrass. Mitchell, the young man who’d changed her life, had been a great teacher.
“It fits,” Win said.
Nettie spotted Ethan coming up the steps and relaxed a little. His handsomeness struck her now as much as it had the day they’d met. Now that they’d arrived at a hands-off understanding, they enjoyed spending time together.
“Hey, Nettie. You look great.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Gram’s idea. Would you like some punch?”
“I’d love some.”
Ethan headed across the dance floor to the punch bowl; admiring looks from around the room followed in his wake.
Trumpeters announcing the arrival of the king and queen pushed the crowd into a semicircle. Nettie’s chest tightened as Andy and Anne led folks onto the dance floor. Swaying stiffly, Andy searched the crowd while Anne tried to follow his gaze.
Ethan reappeared with a cup of foamy green punch, which Nettie downed in two swallows. She wiped the stickiness from her lips just as Andy spotted her.
She might not have a date, but he didn’t need to know. Nettie grabbed Ethan’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” Nettie and Andy watched each other over Ethan’s shoulder until other dancers got in the way.
A midnight stroll around Sweet Briar Lake marked the end of May Day for most. Nettie took Ethan’s arm as they led Win and Cal along the shoreline. “Keep your eyes peeled for Daisy.”
“Who?” Ethan asked.
“Daisy. Sweet Briar’s ghost.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all. They say she’s the daughter of the original landowner. She died young but apparently decided to stick around and play tricks on folks.”
“Like what?”
“Locking unlockable doors, slamming windows, turning lights on and off, spinning chandeliers, and stirring up the horses. Supposedly, she even lets them out of the barn occasionally.” Nettie paused to look behind them. “Some folks say they’ve seen a wispy white figure floating along this path, carrying a torch. If anyone gets close, she disappears.”
“Have you ever seen her?” Ethan asked.
“I think so. A few years back, the night of May Day, I heard laughing and saw a little girl in a white dress come out of the woods. She picked up one of the ribbons on the maypole, wrapped it around and around the pole, then disappeared into the trees.”
“Did anyone else see her?”
“Win saw the ribbon moving.”
“Were you scared?”
Nettie shook her head. “Not really. She’s not scary; she just w
ants to play. I doubt she’ll show tonight. Too many people around.”
“I hope she does. I’ve never seen a ghost, much less a happy one.” Ethan stopped to throw a rock into the moonlit lake. He teetered on the soft, uneven bank.
Nettie grabbed his arm. “No swimming at night.”
“That was close. Thanks.”
Win cleared her throat. “We have company.”
Strolling toward them were the king and queen. Anne stuck to Andy like a tick. The path wasn’t wide enough for the four of them to pass, but no one moved. Face to face, Andy and Ethan stared at each other as Nettie and Anne traded glares.
“Enough.” Pulling Cal behind her, Win pushed through Ethan and Nettie, then wedged her way between Anne and Andy, pushing them off the path.
Anne spun around, hands on her hips. “Just who do you think you are?” As she stepped toward Win, her foot slid sideways in the muck. Struggling to keep her balance, she slipped farther down the bank. Nettie and Andy made a grab for her as she tumbled backward, but missed. Anne’s shriek became garbled as she hit the brackish water. The commotion sent lightning bugs and other marsh dwellers scattering among the cattails.
Anne spat and sputtered as Ethan and Andy fished her out of the water. She shook free and made a beeline for Win as soon as her feet hit solid ground. “How dare you push me?”
“I didn’t.”
“You most certainly did.”
“Look, I’m sorry you fell in, but I didn’t push you.”
“You’re lying.”
Nettie moved next to Win. “She didn’t push you, Anne. I saw the whole thing.”
Anne’s eyes sparked. “What makes you think I’d believe you? You’re just protecting your friend. Your Indian friend.”
Nettie charged at Anne, but Andy quickly stepped between them. He spun on Anne. His withering look spoke more loudly than words.
Anne backed up. “I’m sorry, Win. But I know someone pushed me. I felt it.”
Nettie could barely control her anger. “Maybe it was Daisy. She doesn’t like mean people either.”
“Mean? Me? You’re a fine one to talk.”
Win took Nettie’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Nettie refused to turn away. “Where are your manners now, Miss Perfect? Shouldn’t you thank these guys for pulling your prissy butt out of the water?”
Anne’s gaze moved from Andy to Ethan. “Thanks.” Pulling her sloshy shoes from the muck, she headed down the path in a huff. When Andy didn’t follow, she stopped. “Are you coming?”
Andy ignored her and turned to Ethan. “Thanks for the help. Sorry you had to get wet.”
“No problem.”
Andy looked at Nettie. “Just what were you going to do if I hadn’t stopped you?”
“Put her butt right back in the water.”
Chuckling, Andy ran to catch up with Anne. Putting his hands in his pockets, he ignored her attempt to take his arm. Glancing back at Nettie, he winked.
Win gave Nettie a hug. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. That girl is in desperate need of a baptism.”
Ethan pointed to a faint light disappearing into the woods. “Maybe it’s Daisy we should be thanking.”
Chapter 7
Nettie pulled a can of cleaning powder and a sponge from under the sink in the church kitchen. The baptismal pool had to be sparkling before the eleven o’clock service; she had little time. Climbing down the narrow steps into the shoulder-high pool, she wet the marble, generously sprinkled cleaner on it, and started scrubbing. She had most of the marble greened up and gritty before she noticed the sign on the wall: DO NOT USE ABRASIVE CLEANERS. MILD SOAP ONLY.
As she quickly rinsed the pool, Nettie’s heart sank. Hundreds of tiny scratches crisscrossed the basin.
“That’s just great.”
Slipping and sliding, Nettie hurried back to the kitchen. She grabbed a jug of dish detergent, hoping it would wash away the grit and help minimize the scratches. Following the directions to use it sparingly, she poured the thick liquid on the sponge and rubbed it over the marble.
“Want some help?” Andy stood in the doorway.
Nettie’s heart sprinted for a fleeting moment, then slowed at the memory of his playing king to Anne’s queen. “No.”
“Look, I’d like to explain.”
“Explain what? It’s all out there.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t understand.”
“Understand what? That you’ve ignored me since that night at River’s Rest and that yesterday, in front of God and everybody, you officially dumped me for the most hateful girl in town?”
“No. Honey. It’s not like that. Let me explain.”
“Don’t you dare call me honey, not now. Not after yesterday.” Nettie started scrubbing again. “Just leave. I have to finish cleaning the pool so your new hypocrite girlfriend can get baptized, this time in clean water.”
Andy’s jaw tightened. “My girlfriend? What about you? What’s with this new guy, Ethan? You sure connected with him fast, kissing him in the middle of the drugstore.”
Nettie whirled around, struggling to keep her balance. “I didn’t kiss him. He kissed—”
Pastor Williams stood grim-faced over Andy’s shoulder.
“Nettie, is the baptismal pool ready to fill?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“Then hurry it along, please. It takes twenty minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Andy, you’d best leave so Nettie can finish up.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Pastor Williams left, Nettie quickly debated what to do. Did she really want to blow the chance to talk with Andy alone?
“Andy, wait. I—”
Anne came around the corner, dressed to the nines, her hair in a French braid, the one style that looked as good wet as it did dry. Giving Nettie a disgusted glance, she turned to Andy with a smile. “There you are. Grandfather wants to know if you’ll sit with him.”
Nettie squeezed the sponge until nothing dripped. “You’d better go, Andy. You don’t want to keep your boss or his whiny granddaughter waiting.” Nettie went back to scrubbing, pretending she could see.
“Have it your way.” Ignoring Anne’s grab for his hand, Andy left.
Red-faced, Anne kicked the jug of detergent into the sudsy pool, barely missing Nettie’s foot. “Make sure you get everything nice and clean for us, Nettie. You’re good at dirty work. Maybe you could make a career of it, since you’re obviously not college material.”
“Careful, Anne. Wicked witches melt in water.”
“Loser.”
The soapy sponge barely missed the back of Anne’s head as she ran after Andy. Nettie stomped out of the pool, closed the drain, gave the water valve a hard twist, then made her way to the bathroom to change into her Sunday dress. Maybe the water would hide the damaged marble. Maybe it wouldn’t. She didn’t care.
Only adults sang in the choir during the GA baptismal service, so Nettie and Win sat with their parents in their usual right-center pew.
Win scanned the church. “Half the town is here.”
“Figures.”
Pangs of envy struck Nettie as the side door of the sanctuary opened and her fellow GAs filed in, wearing dazzling white dresses and kid gloves. Crossing to the center aisle, they turned and went up the steps to the altar, positioning themselves on the second tier of steps leading to the baptismal pool. In the middle of the front row, Anne struck a pose, smiling toward the back of the church. Nettie followed her stare straight to Andy. He met Nettie’s gaze.
Pastor Williams stepped into the pulpit, nodded approvingly at the GAs, then turned to the congregation, welcoming saints, sinners, and seekers alike.
“As the New Testament tells us, on the seventh Sunday after Easter, Christians celebrate Pentecost, the moment when the Holy Spirit descended upon believers in the ancient world and marked the birth of the Church in exuberant fashion. This morning, we’re privileged to offer a simi
lar welcome to our Girls’ Auxiliary class.”
As Pastor Williams spoke, Nettie caught movement above the layers of white dresses. An avalanche of bubbles exploded over the edge of the baptismal pool and cascaded toward the unsuspecting GAs.
The congregation tittered and pointed.
Realizing she’d left the detergent in the pool and forgotten to turn off the water, Nettie bolted from the pew. By the time she passed the altar, the avalanche had formed a giant skirt around the disquieted GAs as it rolled toward the congregation.
As the girls scattered, Pastor Williams rushed into the bubbles, only to disappear beneath the suds with a splat and a long, low moan. Panicky GAs who failed to find secure footing took others down like dominos. Many of those who made it off the steps tripped over the invisible pastor. With each fall, shrill yells and shimmering bubbles shot up and out over the scrambling congregation.
Making her way through the white foam and around scurrying congregants, Nettie got to the hall, kicked off her shoes, and ran to the back entrance of the baptismal pool. Pushing the door open, she waded into hip-deep bubbles, stumbled over someone’s legs, and landed on her hands and knees.
“Whoa.” Andy’s head and shoulders emerged from the suds. “I got it. Water’s off.”
Nettie sat back on her heels, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry at his bubble-covered face. She reached up to brush the white foam from his eyes but quickly dropped her hand as agitated voices came through the door.
Impatient to get the sanctuary back in order, Pastor Williams allowed Win, Ethan, and Cal to help Nettie clean up. The four worked for hours to corral the bubbles, but the harder they cleaned, the bigger the sudsy mounds grew.
Nettie plopped down on the squishy, carpeted steps, launching yet another white wave of bubbles. “There’s so much of it. I wish we could just vacuum it up.”
Ethan and the others joined her. “We can once it dries.”
“Dries? That’s a brilliant idea.”
“What?”
