“I was just asking.” Mrs. Dunbar’s voice sounded testy. She turned her attention back to the young couple. “Can I fix you two a couple of ham biscuits?”
“That would be much appreciated,” Drusie said.
“We would be mighty grateful, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Gladdie added.
“No trouble at all. I’ve got to get on my wrap and fix your biscuits. Meet me out front in ten minutes.”
Gladdie thanked Mr. Dunbar once more but hovered with Drusie near the door as they waited for their ride. Though not brutal, the weather was chilly enough that neither wanted to linger in the air any longer than necessary.
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Dunbar breezed to the front door and waved toward them in a motion to join her.
She had donned a surprising traveling ensemble. Gladdie had never bought a mink coat, but he was country enough to know real fur when he saw it. Her high-heeled shoes were well maintained and looked like they were made from real crocodile skin, as did her purse. Instead of the simple kind of hat his mother wore to church, Mrs. Dunbar wore a wide-brimmed hat tied down with a duster. In place of her spectacles, she wore heavy and unflattering old-fashioned goggles.
“I hope she can see with them things,” he hissed to Drusie.
Mr. Dunbar quipped, “She can see just fine. Just uses her other glasses for reading.”
Flushed with embarrassment at being overheard but feeling more confident thanks to the assurance all the same, Gladdie didn’t respond except with a light wave and to open the door for Drusie to walk out ahead of him.
He hadn’t meant to stare as they walked to her automobile, but apparently he had, as Mrs. Dunbar had a question for him.
“What you looking at, boy? Never seen a woman ready to hit the road?”
He made a point of looking at his shoes. “Uh, we don’t dress so fancy where I come from.”
Mrs. Dunbar chuckled. “I don’t know that this is so fancy, but my father gave me this hat and duster on the very day I got my first automobile in the year 1922. Bought it with my own money, I did. I wasn’t married then. Mr. Dunbar and I got married kind of late in life.” She stared at a nearby tree but didn’t appear to see it. She seemed instead to be somewhere else. “That car’s long gone, but I’ve had these gifts from Daddy ever since. Goggles have seen some years of good use, too. No sense in throwing out anything that’s perfectly usable, I say.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gladdie thought about his motel room and realized that the same philosophy applied there as far as the Dunbars were concerned. Judging by their wear, the mattress and sheets hadn’t been replaced since the year 1922, either.
Mrs. Dunbar inspected Drusie. “That feathered hat you got on won’t last any time in the wind. You’d better take it off. I wish I had another duster to offer you, but I’m afraid I don’t.”
Gladdie looked up in time to see Drusie’s eyes take on a concerned look. “You mean, there will be wind?”
“Of course there will be wind. I have a brand-spanking-new Chevrolet Phaeton five-passenger convertible. When my friends ride with me, nobody has to endure a rumble seat.” Mrs. Dunbar led them to a dark green vehicle with its cream-colored top left in the down position. “Isn’t this a beautiful automobile?”
Gladdie marveled at the large white walls on the tires. “She sure is, ma’am.” He shot Drusie a look. Now he could see what Mr. Dunbar did with his money in lieu of spending it on making the motel look better and feel more comfortable.
If Mrs. Dunbar caught them exchanging glances, she didn’t let on. “Mr. Dunbar gave Polly—that’s what I named her, Polly—anyway, he gave Polly to me for my birthday last week. I’m not going to tell you which birthday it was, but I can say I’ve enjoyed celebrating my twenty-ninth year a number of times. Anyway, I haven’t had much call to drive Polly yet. I’m excited about traveling along on the open highway.” She patted the car. “You are, too, aren’t you, Polly?”
Drusie shivered. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Mrs. Dunbar, but ain’t it a mite chilly to be drivin’ with the automobile’s top down?”
“Pshaw!” Mrs. Dunbar swished her hand at them. “I can’t believe young people today are such weaklings. A good shot of brisk air will do you good.”
Gladdie wanted to note that wind didn’t whip right through fur like it did wool, but he decided he’d better not agitate the only person offering them a free ride to Southern Pines.
Mrs. Dunbar looked at her left hand as though she’d forgotten she held a paper sack. Without missing a beat, she gasped. “Oh, I almost forgot—your ham biscuits.”
She handed Gladdie two biscuits and Drusie one. None of the biscuits held much in the way of meat, but they would do for a light breakfast. “Thank you,” Gladdie said, along with Drusie. He proceeded to board the automobile.
“No, you don’t.” Mrs. Dunbar’s voice cracked through the brisk air.
Gladdie stopped. “Don’t what, ma’am?”
“Don’t dare get in my automobile with food of any kind. I don’t want ham grease all over my seats and floorboard.”
Gladdie wanted to quip that the chance of their getting any grease from ham with her biscuits was slim, but he held his tongue.
“I’ll wait while you two eat.” She hopped behind the wheel and sat, looking as happy as anybody Gladdie had ever seen.
Standing in the cold to eat wasn’t comfortable in the best of circumstances, but the dry biscuits made the catch-as-catch-can breakfast all the worse. Gladdie took small bites of his portion, wishing he had a glass of water, but getting a drink of any description wasn’t convenient and would only delay the trip. Drusie ate slowly as well, apparently not enjoying her meal, either. Yet he knew she would never express a complaint about anyone’s generosity.
“You enjoying your biscuits?” Mrs. Dunbar called from the front seat.
“We appreciate you for sharing your food with us,” Drusie answered.
“Thank you mightily,” Gladdie added.
Gladdie encountered a feeling of relief when Mrs. Dunbar didn’t fish for compliments. At least he wouldn’t have to figure out how to keep from telling her a fib.
“Here.” Mrs. Dunbar handed them each a handkerchief. “Wipe off your hands.”
They did, and without delaying a second longer than it took for them to position themselves in the backseat, Mrs. Dunbar started the engine, hit the gas pedal, and took off out of the dirt lot, setting the automobile on the road.
Gladdie watched Drusie hold on to her hat as the motor roared. Every time Mrs. Dunbar met another vehicle, she beeped the horn and waved. Obviously the act of driving invigorated her. She lifted her head high and stared straight ahead. Though he could only see her from the back, he could tell from the way her cheeks puffed out that a little smile decorated her face.
Gladdie noticed Drusie shivering, so he put his arm around her. Holding on to her hat, she snuggled closely to him. Gladdie mused that the scene would feel romantic except that they were both freezing.
“I grew up in New England,” Mrs. Dunbar yelled to them. “This is such mild weather. Hardly ever get a decent snow around these parts. Sure do miss the snow.”
The last thing Gladdie wanted to see was snow. “Yes, ma’am!”
She glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “When do you kids plan to get married?”
Gladdie missed what she asked and responded to her mutterings. “I’m sorry, ma’am?”
“You didn’t hear me, eh? That’s just like a man.”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t hear you.”
She shouted louder. “I said, when do you plan to marry Drusie?”
“Uh, maybe you should ask her,” Gladdie shouted.
She swerved to avoid a cat in the road. Gladdie held on to the back of the front seat for dear life with his free hand, and Drusie held closely to him.
“If we ever get out of this automobile alive, we should get married right away,” Gladdie whispered in Drusie’s ear. “Pa always sa
id life is short. Ours might be shorter than we thought.”
Drusie giggled, and Gladdie tightened his grip on her.
The near miss with the cat didn’t deter Mrs. Dunbar’s interrogation. “That’s not a firm answer. Don’t you have a date, missy?”
“Not yet,” Drusie answered.
Gladdie wondered if she meant that or if she was just being polite to Mrs. Dunbar.
“Well, you’d better get one.” Mrs. Dunbar let go of the wheel with one hand and wagged her finger in Drusie’s direction. “My first boyfriend escaped me by promising to get married. But he ran off before he kept his promise. Skunk!”
“I’m sorry,” Drusie answered.
“I’ll never let that happen to you.” Gladdie nuzzled her neck, relieved that Drusie had taken the pressure off him—and his voice since shouting was straining it—to field questions.
“Stop it. You’re tickling me,” Drusie teased.
“Maybe if I’d let the skunk nuzzle me, I’d be married to him now,” Mrs. Dunbar shouted, then switched topics. “So where did you say you need to go?”
Drusie looked at Gladdie, and he could see in her eyes she was tired of shouting. “Southern Pines,” he yelled.
“What’s in Southern Pines?”
“Hopefully my cousin. He’s supposed to be at a concert tonight.”
“A concert? What kind of music?”
“Mountain music.”
“Oh, I should have figured, with you being called the NC Mountain Girls.” Mrs. Dunbar scrunched her nose. “I don’t mean no harm by it, but I don’t know that I’d like that music very much. A bunch of hillbillies blowing into a jug? No thanks.”
Gladdie opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he encountered Drusie’s elbow in his rib cage.
“Everybody has different tastes,” Drusie yelled. “That’s why God gave us different kinds of music.”
“I suppose you have a point. Not that you seem so much like hillbillies or anything. It’s just that my tastes run more toward classical. So where is this hillbilly concert?”
Gladdie responded, “I don’t rightly know.”
“You don’t know?” They had reached the edge of town, forcing Mrs. Dunbar to slow the automobile.
To his relief, now Gladdie could answer her without yelling quite so loudly. “We usually perform in high school auditoriums, but not always. Sometimes we perform in churches.”
“I don’t have all day to hunt. My sister doesn’t like me to be late for lunch.”
“We don’t want to make you late. You can drop us off anywhere you like and we’ll find our way.”
“No, I won’t, either. I can’t leave the two of you stranded with that luggage. What did my husband get me into?”
Gladdie pointed to a street sign where someone had attached a piece of paper. “Say, that looks like an ad for the concert. Can you stop?”
Mrs. Dunbar brought the massive machine to a halt by the curb. “You want to get out and look?”
Gladdie nodded and leaped out of the car. He memorized the information on the sign before returning to the car.
“What did it say?” Drusie asked.
“It says we’re supposed to be at Our Redeemer Church at eight tonight. Says it’s a gospel concert.”
Drusie nodded. “Those are my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” Gladdie agreed.
Mrs. Dunbar ignored their comments. “I know where that church is. Do you want to go this early? If the concert isn’t until eight, I doubt anyone’s there yet.”
Gladdie eyed a diner and wondered how long it would take them to walk to the church. “How far is it from here?”
“A few blocks.” Mrs. Dunbar studied the sign. “Say!” She turned and looked at Drusie, then to the sign, then back. “Is that your picture on that sign?”
Drusie blushed. “Sure is, ma’am. To tell the truth, I’m surprised my picture’s still on the ad.”
“I’m not,” Gladdie noted. “It’s only been two days, and even if it had been two months, Archie wouldn’t want to spend the extra money printin’ up new flyers until the old ones was gone.”
“True.”
“Two days since what?” Mrs. Dunbar asked.
“It’s a long story,” Gladdie answered.
“It always is, isn’t it?” Mrs. Dunbar studied the ad. “Well, I’ll be! Drusie, you really are a headliner, just like Gladdie said.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How about that? Sometimes show people tell tall tales, so I had my doubts you were much of a celebrity. But that really is you.” She studied the ad again and looked back to her young female passenger. “Although I did have to look close to recognize you. I must say, the picture flatters you.”
“I have on a right smart amount of face paint in that picture, ma’am.”
The older woman studied Drusie. “Hmm. I see the difference. I suppose you don’t look half bad at that. You should wear lip rouge all the time.”
As Mrs. Dunbar searched her purse, Gladdie whispered in Drusie’s ear. “I think you’re prettier without it.”
Drusie blushed and smiled.
Mrs. Dunbar handed Drusie a piece of paper. “Here. Let me have your autograph.”
Gladdie held back laughter. Mrs. Dunbar had been snobby about their music until she realized Drusie was a lead singer in a popular band.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier about your music,” Mrs. Dunbar apologized as she took the paper from Drusie. “I really do prefer classical, and I think singing three hymns in church every Sunday is enough gospel music to endure for the week. But I should have kept my opinions about your hillbilly music to myself. Why, you don’t look like hillbillies at all. Not much, anyway, I don’t suppose.”
“That’s fine,” Drusie answered with her usual sweet spirit. “Maybe now you’ll give us—and our mountain music—a chance.”
“Maybe I will.” She looked at Gladdie. “I didn’t see your picture on the placard.”
“I’m not a member of the band, ma’am. At least, not anymore.”
“Oh.” She slipped the paper into her purse and snapped it shut. “Well, I wish you two lovebirds all the best. Maybe I will try to catch you in concert the next time you come to town.”
“I hope you do,” they said in unison.
As he watched Mrs. Dunbar drive off, Gladdie was almost sorry to see her go. But he hoped he would never have to take such a harrowing ride again.
Fourteen
Drusie and Gladdie went into the diner and warmed up with coffee. They lingered but couldn’t hold a booth forever, so they ventured outside, taking their time and moving with slow determination. With nothing better to do, they spent the afternoon window shopping. This was no small feat, since at his insistence Gladdie carried both of their suitcases. They paused in front of each storefront for a time, with Gladdie setting down their baggage at each stop.
Drusie could feel tension mixed with anticipation when they neared a jewelry store. Some of the rings boasted stones that were very big, much bigger than Drusie ever wanted to wear, no matter how famous she became or how many songs the band recorded. The more she got out in the world, the more she realized that all that mattered to her was Gladdie. Mrs. Dunbar had let her first love get away. Drusie didn’t want that to happen to her.
They stared at mannequins dressed in the latest styles. Drusie couldn’t help but dream of herself dressed in the rose-colored suit and matching hat displayed in one window. The man’s dark blue suit next to it looked sharp, too. She imagined Gladdie turning heads in such an outfit. She longed for a night out, regardless of what she would be wearing. She missed the church socials and her friends back home. Life on the road didn’t offer too many breaks for any of the band members. She guessed that some of the tension and backstage drama had much to do with everyone being plumb worn out.
“What do you think we should say to Archie when we see him?” Gladdie ventured.
Drusie didn’t answer right away. “I
don’t know.” She strolled to the next window and focused on yet another display. Natural mink fur trimmed a beige suit. She noticed that the fur was punctuated with darker brown hairs that gave it texture. Not that she cared, but studying it helped her to concentrate on thinking about how to get Gladdie back in Archie’s good graces.
“I think the world and all of Archie, but he can be a vexation at times.”
“And from the looks of things, we just might have him as a brother-in-law, too.”
“Clara’s that far gone, huh?”
“I’m afraid so. I would have rather seen her set her sights on a stronger Christian, but I cain’t make decisions for her. Besides, I don’t think she’ll consent to marry him until he gets closer to the Lord.”
“Wonder when that will be.” Gladdie’s voice was tinged with regret.
“Soon, I hope.” She sighed. “He’s made my sister happier than she’s ever been. We all grew up together. You know what she’s like. She’s always loved attention, and she’s never had a chance to wear pretty clothes, at least not the fancy clothes Archie puts us in to sing onstage.”
“I wonder if your pa would mind if he could see you.”
“I don’t think he’d mind. Even under the spotlights, nobody can see through them. And I wouldn’t agree to wear anything low cut. I’m glad Archie didn’t insist.”
“Well, you do sing gospel songs,” Gladdie pointed out.
“True.” Drusie sighed. “Archie has invested money in us. I feel kind of guilty about that, even though I do think he took advantage of us just a little bit.” She looked at Gladdie, unable to hide her distress. “I’m sorry to have to say that about your cousin.”
“How Archie behaves ain’t your fault. No point in lyin’ about it to spare my feelin’s. I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way we thought they would.”
“It’s all my fault,” Drusie said. “I didn’t know what I was gettin’ into when I first wanted to play for Archie. I just knew I liked to sing and that my friends and family thought I was right good. When Archie agreed, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I mean, it’s one thing for your ma to say you sing good, but it’s a horse of another color for a man like Archie to like what you do.”
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