The Wedding Shop

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by Rachel Hauck


  She wanted this shop to succeed more than going to homecoming with Brandon Lutz in eleventh grade, more than getting into the University of Tennessee, more than graduating at the top of her OCS class, more than making captain. More than Dax—who captured her heart with his first hello.

  “So this is a yes?” Linus said, standing. “Because I do have a nice bonus for you.” He retrieved a legal envelope from his credenza. “There was some money in the city reserve for various projects. Some of the money Drummond Branson mentioned.” He handed her the envelope. “This should help you get started. But it’s a loan. You have to pay back the city. Read over the paperwork, and if you want to cash that check, bring everything back signed and notarized.”

  Haley peeked under the envelope flap. “Twenty thousand dollars?”

  “That ought to get you started.”

  Haley stuck out her hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “Well, all righty then.” Stiff and formal, he endured her enthusiastic handshake.

  “I’ll bring the papers back later. Y’all won’t regret this, Mr. Peabody.”

  “Make sure we don’t.”

  Outside in the cold, she tossed her head back in a silent scream, stamping and giggling. Thank You, Jesus, thank You, Jesus.

  In the midst of her joy, she heard the tick-tock of the council’s timeline. She dug her phone from her pocket and dialed Cole.

  “I got the shop.”

  “What?”

  “Did I stutter? I got the shop. The town gave it to me.”

  “Gave? Wow, okay. What did they say?”

  “Linus gave me a boatload of conditions.” Haley outlined the town council’s stipulations, ending with, “But they gave me twenty grand to get started.”

  “Nice, but barely a spit in the bucket, Haley. You need about another eighty, if not more.”

  “Hey, dark cloud, don’t rain on my sunshine. Twenty grand ought to be enough to get me started, right? I’m going over to Downtown Mutual to see if I can get a loan.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “So, you in with me? I need a contractor.” She heard the clink of dishes in the background and the collective murmur of diner voices.

  “Haley, I know what you’re going to say and—”

  “Then don’t say it. Are you at Ella’s? Don’t leave. I’m on my way. Let me plead my case.”

  She snapped on her helmet and tucked the check with the paperwork inside her saddlebag. Cole could huff and puff all he wanted, but he was going to help her. Surely the ping vibrating through her when he was around would fade once she got used to him. It was inspired by nothing more than a girlish infatuation with the way his blue eyes seemed to glow when he looked at her. See? What a dreamer. But he had to help her. If he didn’t do it for Haley, maybe he’d do it for Tammy. In her memory and honor. Their mutual love for her had to count for something.

  Besides all of that, he was the only one she trusted to do the job.

  The waitress Jasmine met her at the door, her hair half blue and half pink.

  “Hey, Jasmine, I’m looking for Cole.”

  “He’s at the counter. Where he always sits.”

  Haley dropped onto the stool next to him. “Hey.”

  “I’m not changing my mind. Let me eat my breakfast in peace.” He jammed his fork into a big plate of lettuce and salad trimmings.

  “You’re eating salad for breakfast? Are you on a diet?”

  “Needing some greens and trying to cut back some. With Chris and Cap home for Christmas, all we ate was pizza and cookies.”

  “Haley, well, how-do. My counter just got a might prettier.” Tina came in from the kitchen, setting an ice cream float in front of Cole. “What can I get you, darling?”

  She nodded at Cole’s ice cream float. “This is how you cut back?”

  “I said I ate too much pizza and cookies. Didn’t say anything about ice cream.”

  “You tell him, girl,” Tina said. “I’m just glad to get some lettuce and tomato in him.”

  “The town council gave Haley the old wedding shop, Mom.” Cole rammed a forkful of lettuce into his mouth.

  “Good for you! Is Cole going to be your contractor? He’s good at his job. Really good.”

  “So I hear. But seems he has other plans.” Haley snatched one of his tomatoes and he slid the plate over to her, reaching for his float. “Will you be my contractor?”

  “Not if I go to work for Akron.”

  Tina backed away, grabbed the coffeepots, and headed out to the floor.

  “Will you help me, please? This is an unbelievable opportunity. Dream of a lifetime. If you won’t do it for me, do it for Tammy.”

  He held up his hand. “Just stop.” He swiveled around, facing her. “I wasn’t going to say anything, Haley, but I don’t think Tammy wanted to open the old wedding shop. She never even talked about it.”

  “That’s not true. She talked about it. With me.” Well, sometimes. Not so much once they got to college. Even less when Haley joined the air force, but it had been, always was, their plan. “We pinky promised.”

  “Pinky promised?” Cole made a face. “I don’t even know what that means.” He gripped his root beer float without taking a drink. “Look, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but there’s no currency here between you, me, Tammy, and this wedding shop. I’m sorry, Haley.”

  “Just because she never said anything to you doesn’t mean she changed her mind. Maybe she thought it was for later in our lives. All I know is we promised each other we were going to open the shop. She died, but that—” She hated the burn of tears. Always had. Especially in front of boys.

  Cole slipped his hand over hers. “Yeah, she died. So why do you feel so obligated? Even marriage vows end at ‘death do we part.’ ”

  His hand was firm and warm. She wanted to pull away but found his touch inspired the same sensation as the night at the shop. “Because . . .” She swallowed, gently pulling her hand free. “I have to keep our promise, Cole. I can’t explain it, but the shop . . . I’ve always felt an odd connection to that place. Like we belonged together.”

  He released her, turning around, facing forward. “The job with Akron means I don’t have to worry about money anymore, Haley.”

  “How are you going to sleep when I fail because you didn’t help me? When the corner of First and Blossom is an ugly parking lot?”

  Cole drank from his float glass, then stirred the ice cream in with the soda. “I can give you some names of excellent contractors. Gomez Sanchez for one. I can’t take my guys with me to Akron, so they’ll be free to work for you.”

  “But I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t know them. You I know and trust.” The ping she felt for him earlier, and the warmth of his touch, was beginning to fade.

  “I’m taking the Akron job.” He peered over at her, his blue gaze unapologetic.

  “Fine, but can you meet me this afternoon? Let me know in detail what I need to do? Not a verbal list, but a written one with dollar amounts. Bring this Gomez character around and let me meet him.”

  “I can do that.” Cole took out his phone. “Calling Gomez now.”

  Haley slipped off the stool and leaned toward him. “But I still want you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  CORA

  Thanksgiving 1930

  She walked through the trees on the back acres of the homestead to think, kicking fallen leaves out of her way.

  Back at the house, Mama and the aunts were in the kitchen, laughing, cutting up cakes and pies for dessert, brewing coffee.

  The men, gathered on the front porch, sipping port and puffing on cigars, debated college football and whether the Vanderbilt Commodores would defeat the Maryland Terps this weekend.

  In the side yard, the younger boys actually played the sport, tossing the football about, shouting, “Touchdown!”

  Breaking into a clearing, Cora lifted her face to the gray sky, breathing in the fine molecules of the cool, crisp
breeze. Down the embankment, the Cumberland sauntered along a lazy current around the bend and Cora faced the west, longing for him.

  It’d been almost five months since he surprised her for the Fourth. Since she tasted the passion of his kisses. Since she heard the huskiness in his voice. Since she felt his arms about her.

  She quick-like brushed her tears from her cheeks as anger brewed beneath her breast with a mixture of disappointment and longing. She was back to clinching, willing herself to hang on, believing, waiting.

  He promised to see her again, and sooner or later Rufus kept his promises. But how long could she go on, a mature woman of thirty, only seeing the man she loved twice a year?

  Back at the house, the rooms overflowed with friends and family, cozy around Mama’s large table.

  It’d been a good day, hearing the sound of familiar voices and laughter. Cora’s heart brimmed with the love of family. All the while aching for the love of her man. She wanted Rufus St. Claire at their table today. She’d invited him. He said he’d try.

  Cora dealt with her disappointment honorably enough. Even fielded Aunt Dinah’s frank, nosy questions about her marriage plans.

  “Wait too long and all you’re gonna get is the old men and the formerly unmarriageable. But they look pretty good up next to a life of spinsterhood.”

  “Mercy sakes, Dinah, leave the girl be.” Mama never held back with Daddy’s sister. “You’re just jealous Jane picked her as her successor instead of you.”

  Bravo, Mama. Thank you. Of course, Mama broached no such restrictions for herself when it came to her opinions on Cora’s life.

  It was after Dinah’s daughter, Cora’s cousin Irma, announced she was expecting that Cora had to escape. Irma was all of twenty-two. Married to a solid, hardworking boy named Rob and already starting a family.

  Cora had fallen in love with a man who had a mistress. The river. So she made her way down the path to confront the other lover. To see what power she had that kept her man away.

  Closing her eyes, she envisioned Rufus, her thoughts rereading the details of his letters.

  I’m heading down the Arkansas, darling. I wish you could be with me.

  You should see the Mississippi, my sweets. She’s powerful and wild. Puts me in mind of you.

  I’ll see you as soon as I can. Know that you’re always on my mind.

  Wild? She? Cora loved seeing herself through Rufus’s eyes. She tried to understand him, tried to see the world from his pilot house. Lately when she couldn’t sleep, she looked beyond the curtains of her longings and made up her mind.

  She would run away with him the next time he docked at Heart’s Bend. She’d miss the shop. And the brides who entrusted her with so much. But it was time to consummate their love.

  Rufus pledged to marry her over and over when he was here for the Fourth—for three glorious days. She was going to hold him to it.

  He’d nearly convinced her to surrender her virtue on the salon davenport the night before his departure. So filled with passion, Cora could barely think, let alone find her moral center. Rufus owned her heart and soul.

  “Cora!” She swerved to see Mama marching through the high grass. “I thought I’d find you out here.” The scent of a menthol cigarette floated toward her.

  “The kitchen was warm. Crowded.” The breeze pushed the ends of Cora’s curled hair over her eyes. She gently brushed them aside. Rufus liked when her hair fell into her eyes. Said it made her mysterious.

  “We’re ready for dessert.” Mama settled beside Cora, her free hand in her dress pocket, her cheeks already turning red from the sharp cut of the wind. “Liberty is serving. Darn if that girl isn’t so generous. Coming over this afternoon to help and clean up.”

  “She can use the extra pay.”

  Liberty married her man in August and was already expecting her first child. She glowed, her dark eyes bright, her skin a creamy milk chocolate. Cora envied her. For all the restrictions the coloreds faced in the law, Liberty was free to love the man she wanted. Jim Crow could do nothing to her heart, could do nothing to change who she was on the inside, who she was when she was alone with her Jake.

  That’s what she wanted with Rufus. To love freely. Cora might be able to walk around town, go wherever she willed, but a man captaining a riverboat held her bound. Restricted her ability to love. He baited her, then left her on the hook. She was not free to go where she wished. Because she wished to be with him.

  Mama took a long drag from her cigarette. Cora batted away a cloud of smoke though she didn’t mind the scent of menthol. It reminded her of Pop and Granny and rainy afternoons in the parlor playing checkers, singing songs, reading books.

  “You know what Reverend Clinton says about smoking, Mama.” The good reverend was a guest at Daddy and Mama’s table today. Along with his wife and two sons.

  “Why do you think I came out here? Wasn’t in the mood for a sermon.”

  “Everything all right?” Mama tended to smoke more when she was tense. While Cora heard no more closed-door arguments between her parents, they seemed to be fighting without words. Stiff and stilted conversation. Saying only what was necessary.

  “If not, it will be.”

  “Daddy doesn’t seem to be the same since Caldwell and Company closed.” The big bank chain out of Nashville, who drew Daddy’s hometown bank into their network, shut down two weeks ago, taking several banks down with them. The newspaper speculated more would follow.

  “He’s been brooding. Tells me everything is fine, we’re fine, that yes, he had to close the bank for a few weeks but he’ll reopen by the first of the year. But I’ve seen him like this before, and let me tell you, he’s not fine. We’re not fine.”

  Mama sighed, dropping her cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the toe of her brown Happy Delux oxfords.

  “I can’t remember too much, but he seemed rather silent and brooding during the ’07 and ’14 panic.”

  “Exactly. I’m scared for him, Cora. No matter how hard I try to coax it out of him, he seems stuck in whatever ails him. All the while telling me there’s nothing to worry over.” Mama took another cigarette from her pocket along with Daddy’s silver American Legion lighter. The smell of menthol kicked against the scent of rain. “So, what are you doing out here, Cora?”

  “I told you the house was warm. Felt crowded.”

  “Was it the business with Irma and Rob?”

  “I’m very excited for them. We need more babies around here.”

  “It’d be good for you to do your part.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving, Mama. Be thankful.”

  “Fair enough. Birch stopped by. On his way home from the Melsons. Your daddy talked him into staying for dessert. He’s asking after you.”

  “I couldn’t eat another bite.” Cora patted her belly, fighting a wash of tears. “I ate too many of your good yeast rolls.”

  Mama angled forward for a good look at her face. “Mercy, Cora, don’t tell me. You’re out here brooding about Rufus. Land sakes, you are your father’s daughter.”

  “If you don’t want to know, then don’t ask.”

  “For the life of me I can’t understand why you pine for him. He writes you fancy lies only intending to keep you on his string. Please tell me you didn’t go to bed with him.”

  “Mama!”

  “Well, you’re a grown woman of thirty. I’m not naive.”

  “No.” An honest no for once. “But I will marry him. I will.”

  “When? Cora Beth, it’s been over four years. He’s been promising to come back and marry you ever since you met. So why doesn’t he? Shoot fire, he was out here to the farm in July. He could’ve asked your daddy for your hand.”

  “He wants to make sure he’s ready. He’s building his business. He wants a nice house for me and our children. He’s almost saved enough.” Cora glanced at Mama. “In St. Louis.”

  “St. Louis? You are seriously considering leaving the shop? Jane’s rolling over in her grave.�
�� Mama cackled. “What will Dinah say?”

  “Jane would want me to fall in love, be happy. She regretted never marrying. She didn’t talk much about it but I know she did. And who cares what Dinah says? I thought you and Odelia could run the shop. I’ll come back from time to time to check on things.”

  Mama scowled, clicking the fingernails of her cigarette hand. “I’ve no desire for an outside job. Your daddy’s worked hard to give us a good name and allow me to work in the community as I saw fit. I only work for you out of courtesy, as a supportive mother. But I tell you again, I doubt this Rufus’s sincerity.”

  “You’ve made that clear.”

  “But if you trust him, then I guess I’m beholden to trust him too.” Mama puffed on her cigarette, scenting the wind with its smoke. “I raised you right. But, Cora, promise me this. You won’t wait another year. Please. Most of your friends are married with children. Getting on with their lives.”

  “Do they own a wedding shop? Run a business?”

  “Most of them wouldn’t dare choose a career over a home and children. What’s a better business than wife and mom? Haven’t you heard, the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world?”

  “Yes, it’s all fine and noble, but if you don’t mind I’d like to be in the business of marriage with the man I love. You were head over heels with Daddy when you married him.”

  “It’s your life, Cora.” Mama stamped out her cigarette in the same spot as the first one. “It’s not what I want for you, but it’s your life.”

  “Mama, can’t you be proud of me? For at least being faithful to my heart? What about the business? We’re doing splendidly. We made a lot of money this fall on mail orders. Even after I pulled the magazine ad. Women found back issues and sent in their orders. We’re employing twenty women. Bit Jenkins earned enough to buy the family a radio.”

 

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