by Fannie Flagg
“Oh, I might, if you could see fit to loan me your car next weekend. Me and Alice are going to sneak off to her folks’ apartment in Washington.”
“Listen,” Brooks said, “if you can get me a date with her, I’ll give you the car for a month. How come I never saw her before?”
“Because you always have your nose in some economics book. See what you’ve been missing?”
The following weekend, Ruthie and Brooks had a double date with Mitzi and Tubbs. When Brooks arrived to pick her up that night, he was pretty much what Ruthie had expected. He had the same look that all the preppy guys on campus had: slicked-back straight hair, clean white button-down shirt, loafers with no socks. He was definitely not her type, but there was no denying that he was good-looking.
All through dinner, for Mitzi’s sake, Ruthie had tried to be most attentive and charming, but Brooks saw her glance down at her watch a few times. At the end of the evening, when Brooks walked her up to the door, he said, “Listen, Ruthie, I know this was a blackmail date, and I probably won’t ever see you again. But may I at least hug you goodbye?”
Ruthie was a little thrown by the request. A hug was not the usual thing boys wanted at the end of the evening, but his arms were already around her, and before she knew it she felt herself melt into his body. And to her surprise, she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. It was a perfect fit. Like finding the right piece of the puzzle. His hug was not too rough or too weak. It was just right. She suddenly felt like Goldilocks. And he smelled so good, too.
After he let go and said good night and began walking back to his car, Ruthie heard herself say, “Um, Brooks?”
“Yes?” he said.
“Ah…could we do this again, sometime?”
Brooks looked at her and, with a sigh of sheer relief, wiped his brow and said, “Whew…Thank God. I was walking as slowly as I could. Tomorrow night?”
She nodded.
He cocked his head. “Promise me you won’t get married before then?”
“I promise.”
Ruthie watched as Brooks ran to his car. When he got there, he turned around and waved at her and then bowed from the waist. At that moment, Ruthie thought to herself, “Oh no. The boy has a sense of humor to match his good looks.” She knew then she was either in terrible trouble, or on the verge of something wonderful.
FAIRHOPE, ALABAMA
1985
Special Newsflash: Peggy Threadgoode just called to tell us that their daughter Ruthie is almost twenty-one years old and is now engaged to an Atlanta boy, Mr. Brooks Lee Caldwell, and they will be married in the spring. Congratulations to all! How do the names “Grandmother” and “Granddaddy” sound? Get ready, it will happen before you know it.
Speaking of that, is it just me, or are all of you taking more pills than you used to? This morning I looked at all the bottles of pills that Wilbur and I are taking every day: high blood pressure, heart pills, blood thinners, diuretics, calcium, fiber, cholesterol pills, laxative pills, you name it, we take it.
I hate to admit it, but I guess I must be getting old. Did you know that squirrels can remember where they’ve hidden over 10,000 nuts, and half the time I can’t find my one pair of reading glasses. Never thought a squirrel was smarter than I am, but a fact is a fact, folks!
Your faithful scribe,
Dot
P.S. Just read where they think there might be life on Mars. I find it amusing that people are so curious about life on other planets, when so many don’t even know their own neighbors!
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
November 9, 1985
RUTHIE THREADGOODE HAD waited so long to turn twenty-one. She had dreamed about this day for years. She had visualized herself as being calm, cool, sure of herself, a woman of the world. But when her twenty-first birthday finally arrived, she was feeling a little bit insecure.
The year before, she had fallen in love with the most wonderful boy, Brooks Lee Caldwell. They were now engaged, and this should have been the happiest time in her life.
Ruthie knew she loved Brooks, but after meeting his family, it was painfully obvious that they came from very different backgrounds. Her family was not poor, by any means. Her father made a good living. But the Threadgoodes were definitely not “old money” like Brooks’s family. The Lees and the Caldwells were two of the top old-monied families in Atlanta. Their house was located behind large black wrought iron gates and was a showcase. It had been regularly featured in The Great Homes of Atlanta magazine.
After spending the first weekend at their home at Number One Caldwell Circle, Ruthie felt that Brooks’s father seemed to like her. But his mother, Martha Lee, was a different story. Although Martha Lee had never been anything but polite to her while she was there, Ruthie had felt an aloofness and sensed an ever-so-slight aura of disapproval.
No matter how many times she visited, Ruthie was still afraid she might do something wrong, spill something on one of their beautiful oriental rugs, or knock something over and break it. Or pick up the wrong fork at dinner.
Doubly hard was when Ruthie learned that after they were married, she and Brooks would be moving into the large and lovely home at Two Caldwell Circle, right next door to her in-laws. Ruthie had expressed her concern to Brooks and told him she thought it might be better if their first home together could be something a little smaller and maybe not so close to his parents. But Brooks didn’t really understand the problem and explained that he couldn’t turn down the house without hurting his parents’ feelings. She loved him so much, what could she do? But it was going to be hard, taking care of such a large house, and living so close to someone who made her feel nervous. And, harder still, considering she loved animals and had been around them all her life, was that there were to be absolutely no dogs or cats allowed anywhere on Caldwell Circle. Martha Lee was deathly allergic to animal hair.
In fact, Martha Lee was not really allergic to animal hair, but saying so had ended the discussion. A little white lie was permissible when so much was at stake. She had worked too hard collecting her beautiful objets d’art over the years to take a chance. She had many expensive antique tapestries hanging on the walls, and she certainly didn’t want some cat scratching at them or some dog running rampant through the house knocking over any of her priceless Chinese vases. She had one of the most exquisite homes in Atlanta, and she was going to keep it that way.
Martha Lee Caldwell was not a particularly tall lady, but her perfect posture made her seem so. Though she wasn’t naturally beautiful, her high cheekbones and shiny black hair, which she wore slicked back in a tight, fashionable chignon, gave her a stunning and imposing appearance.
She also had a certain air about her that so many people envy and so few have. Her secret? Martha Lee was extremely pleased to be Martha Lee.
Being human, she’d naturally had her share of disappointments, but she’d been able to rise above any adversity. No matter what life threw at her, she could always cheer herself by reminding herself that thanks to her Philadelphia great-grandmother on her father’s side, she was a direct descendant of the beautiful Duchess Carolyn Lee, wife of Duke Edmond James Lee, owner of the stately Lee Manor in Yorkshire, England, a fact she would often let drop into the most casual of conversations, even with perfect strangers. A large portrait of Duchess Carolyn Lee hung over the fireplace in her living room and was seen by anyone who entered. True, it was only a commissioned reproduction of an original portrait. But no matter. After all, she was family.
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
WHEN MARTHA LEE Caldwell first heard Brooks was engaged, she had been caught completely off guard. Brooks had called sounding thrilled that the Maryland girl had just agreed to marry him, and Martha Lee couldn’t believe it. Dating the girl was one thing, but engaged to be married? She demanded that he come home immediately so they could discuss it.
After Brooks had talked to his father in private and had assured him the girl was not pregnant, his mother cornered him in the library and began peppering him with questions. Poor Brooks was trying as hard as he could to point out Ruthie’s many wonderful qualities but was having no luck.
“She may be in a top sorority, but so are a lot of girls,” Martha Lee said.
“But, Mother, she’s not just in it, she’s the president. And she was voted homecoming queen. Ruthie’s one of the most popular girls on campus. She’s really a terrific girl. The truth is, Mother, I’m lucky she’s marrying me. She’s had a lot of guys after her.”
“That’s all very well and good, but we really don’t know who her people are, or where they’re from.”
“I told you.”
“I know you told me, but really, Brooks, think about it. If you had said Mobile, Montgomery, or even Birmingham, I might be able to hold my head up. But Whistle Stop, Alabama? And I shudder to think where they came from before they landed there.”
“Mother, please don’t be so snooty. Besides, her family hasn’t lived in Whistle Stop for years. I don’t think Ruthie has ever even been there. And her father is a well-known doctor in Maryland.”
“Oh, Brooks, he’s not a real doctor. He’s a veterinarian, for God’s sake. His patients are dogs and cats—what do they know? My point is, you are my only son. I am only thinking about your future and what is best for you.” She made a sad face. “Oh, Brooksie, aren’t there some nice Atlanta girls you like? God knows, I’m not name proud, but Threadgoode? It sounds like an ad for a seamstress.”
“Mother…”
“All right. I’m not ashamed to admit it. The Caldwell and the Lee families come from a long line of good stock, and we have an obligation to adhere to certain guidelines.”
Brooks rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t make this up, Brooks. It’s a law of nature. Her father, the vet that you’re so crazy about, would agree with me. You don’t mate a thoroughbred racehorse with a Shetland pony.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother, you’re living in another century. Nobody cares about those things anymore. You’ll just have to meet them and see for yourself.”
Martha Lee could see she was not making progress. The boy was smitten and insisted that they meet the girl’s parents.
* * *
—
A FEW WEEKS later, after having met Bud and Peggy Threadgoode, who had driven down from Maryland to Atlanta for the occasion, Martha Lee was talking with her husband at the dinner table.
“Linwood, you have got to talk to Brooks about marrying that girl, before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Now, the parents seem perfectly nice, but—”
“No more buts about it, Martha. The boy has made up his mind and he won’t back down. Nor should he. As far as I can tell the girl is terrific.”
“I’ll tell you what she is. A veterinarian’s daughter whose family is from some little Podunk hole-in-the-wall hick Alabama town that nobody’s ever heard of.”
Linwood closed his eyes and sighed. “Martha, no matter what your or my reservations may be, he is going to marry the girl. And it’s time for us to make every effort to welcome her and her parents into the family.”
“But Linwood…”
He put his hand up. “Let me finish, Martha. Like it or not, you’re going to have to accept the fact that one day, the Threadgoodes will be grandparents to our grandchildren. I don’t know why you’re so upset. I thought they were perfectly respectable. He struck me as being a rather delightful guy, very personable, and the wife seemed very nice.”
Martha Lee sat there and pouted for a moment. Then she put down her fork and pulled out the last arrow in her quiver. “All right, Linwood, I didn’t want to have to tell you this….I had Gerta do a little research on the good doctor and his wife, the ones you insist are so perfectly respectable.”
Linwood put down his fork. “Oh no…Martha, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. Were you aware that his mother ran some kind of a railroad cafe, slinging hash for a living? And according to Gerta, his father was some man from Georgia named Frank Bennett, who evidently just disappeared completely out of the picture before he was even born. Left the mother flat. Mind you, that’s only his side of the family. Who knows about the mother’s side. Her folks probably worked for the railroad laying track or something.”
“So they worked for a living. So what?”
“So what? How are we supposed to socialize with these people? We have absolutely nothing in common.” Then she made a face. “And the father has that funny arm. And I certainly can’t take the mother to the club.”
“Why? She seemed very nice.”
“Why? Oh for God’s sake, Linwood. The woman wears polyester pants, and collects frog figurines.”
“What?”
You heard me, frogs! The woman has over two hundred frogs. And she told me she had just found the cutest one dressed up as Batman. Need I say more?” Martha Lee heaved a deep sigh and said, “When I think that Brooks could have married into the Coca-Cola family or the Georgia-Pacific lumber family. But no, he picks some little nobody, from a nobody family from a nowhere place.” Then, totally out of character, Martha Lee burst into tears and began sobbing into her white linen monogrammed table napkin.
Her husband went over and put his arms around her. “Oh, Martha, it will be all right. You’ll see.”
She looked up at him tearfully and nodded. “It’s just that I’m so terribly disappointed.”
* * *
—
AFTER THEIR FIRST meeting with the Caldwells at their home, all Bud had said to his daughter was, “Honey, you know your mother and I think the world of Brooks, and we couldn’t be happier that you’re marrying him, but just be aware that you’re landing in some pretty high cotton.”
“I know,” said Ruthie.
“Do you think you’re up for that?”
“I think so, Daddy.”
“Okay then, you know you have our full blessing. I’ll get myself all prettied up, and I promise I will be the best lookin’ father of the bride they’ve ever seen.”
* * *
—
SIX MONTHS LATER, at the wedding, Martha Lee had some small consolation. At least she could introduce the father of the bride as Dr. Threadgoode. She just prayed no one would ask what kind of a doctor. And as for the mother, she was sweet. But they were never going to be best friends.
FAIRHOPE, ALABAMA
1986
Just a short update: I’m sure you have all heard about my mishap by now. Nobody’s fault but my own. I was so busy looking down at my grocery list, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. But I am okay now. And I have a new hip that is working fine.
Under the heading “You’re Never Too Old to Learn”: I thought I had known this before, but I never really realized just how much we all depend on other human beings, until I got hit by a truck in the Walmart parking lot and had my leg cut open. The minute it happened, total strangers came running from all over and gathered around me. One lady immediately called an ambulance; another sat down beside me and held my hand. A man ran and pulled a blanket out of his camper and covered me up so I wouldn’t go into shock. And they all, to a person, stayed right there with me, until the ambulance came.
They said later that if it hadn’t been for everybody’s fast action—from the people in the parking lot, to the ambulance drivers, and the ER doctors and nurses—I could have bled to death. People I’d never met before in my life, who didn’t know me from Adam’s cat, suddenly became the most important people in the world. All helped save my life, and I don’t even know their names. Except for the poor guy who hit me, bless his heart. It wasn’t even his fault. But he came to the hospital every day just to
make sure I was okay.
My point is: From now on, no matter how hard the doom-and-gloomers try, they’ll never convince me the world is a terrible place and people are just no good. I know there are some rotten apples out there, but take it from me, this old world of ours, flawed as it may be, is a much better place than you have been told.
By the way, I read a quote from William A. Ward and thought I would pass it on. “God gave you 86,400 seconds a day. Have you used one to say ‘Thank you’?”
I sure did when I lived to tell the tale!
The other good news is that I received a call from Bud and Peggy Threadgoode telling me that their daughter, Ruthie, just gave birth to their first grandchild, a girl, named Carolyn Lee. Oh my, isn’t it amazing how fast time flies. It seems like just yesterday when Ruthie was born. How old am I? On that subject, don’t ask, and I won’t tell.
Anyhow, congrats to mother and child.
Love to all,
Dot
P.S. Idgie sent me a funny joke I’ll pass along: Put out with your relatives? Just remember, even the best family tree has its sap.
1989
ON SUNDAY MORNING, Bud was outside in the garage at his work table, busy repairing a birdhouse, when he heard Peggy calling out in a loud voice: “Oh my God. Oh my God. Bud, get in here quick!”
Bud immediately grabbed a hammer, then ran inside the house, ready to defend her from who knows what. “Where are you?” he yelled.
“In here!”
“In here” was at the kitchen table. Peggy was sitting by the window looking at herself in a round mirror about the size of a pancake.
Bud said, “What’s wrong? Are you all right?
She looked up at him accusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me I have a wattle?”
“A what?”
