I think about her at my age, what her life was like. She started every morning with a hot cup of coffee and a smile. She had a wise saying for literally every situation. I think about the box in the attic. The box of photo albums. Photo albums that she always wanted to sit down and look at with me but never did because I was always too busy and never had time. Now I know I have to look at that box. And I’ll just have to guess what she would’ve told me about the pictures inside.
When I get home, I go up in the attic and pull down the box of photo albums. I look at the pictures of her and my grandpa when they were young, my daddy as a boy, her backyard when it was nothing but a few patches of grass and an old wooden fence.
Her garden was her story that she pampered and pruned and made beautiful. Her pictures are her past, people whom she loved and cherished. I look through the next album and see pictures from my parents’ wedding day, pictures of me as a baby. Pictures from Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays. I feel a wave of guilt for leaving these stories in the attic so long, collecting dust. I decide to stop letting it all hurt me and start embracing the love that I had and being thankful for the time that I had it. I take the pictures from the cruise and decide to go buy some frames because they should be on display, along with several others.
I decide to start living like Gramma. Being careful, pampering and pruning, caring deeply so my life can be beautiful like hers was. I go back upstairs and bring down one more box—the one I packed all of her jewelry in. Scarves, pins, and long beaded necklaces. A pair of old sunglasses.
I walk into her bedroom and put the box on the dresser. I slip on a long set of pearls, then pick up a scarf. I wrap it around my head just like she always used to do when she was going out to buy groceries. I pick up her pins, looking at each one before placing it back in the box. I slip on her sunglasses and smile at myself in the mirror. I’m proud of how much I look like her. I think about her, my mom, and my dad, and say a little prayer for them to help me get to where I need to be in this life.
41
I spend Saturday morning running around all over town picking up Chloe’s shower gifts from all the places she’s registered. I call Jalena to see how she’s doing, and she tells me that she had everything ready last night. I rush home, apologize to Buster Loo for not taking him on a walk, get ready as fast as I can and head over to Jalena’s. Lilly and Stacey are already there. Cameron pulls in behind me, and they help me get the presents from my car to the party room, which Jalena has made look like a wedding shower wonderland.
“This is amazing,” I say when I walk in.
“I know. I said the same thing,” Lilly says.
Soon, the place is packed and Chloe arrives looking like an angel in a flowing cream-colored dress. Jalena has to bring in extra chairs, but we eventually get everyone a seat. Chloe opens what seems like a thousand wonderful gifts and Jalena unveils the appetizer buffet that is out of this world. I step over and help place spoons.
“Everything but hot wings,” I whisper to Jalena, and she giggles.
Jalena and I stay busy keeping the buffet stocked, and I see her run out of several things I wanted to try.
“Aw, man,” I tell her on one of our trips back to the kitchen. “I really wanted some of those pinwheels.”
“I’ve got a few samples saved for us,” she says with a smile. “Plus one of each of the petits fours.”
“Yee haw!” I say.
When the shower is over and people start drifting out, several folks want to see Jalena’s diner, so she takes them in there and shows them around, kitchen and everything. The flamingos turn out to be a hot topic of conversation, and several people tell me that they’d like for me to do a mural in their homes. A few take my number and tell me they’ll be in touch.
When we’re alone in the diner, Jalena narrows her eyes and says, “Did I not tell you that you were going to need some business cards? I have a diner to run here, and I won’t have time to be stopping everything I’m doing to say, ‘Well, that nut Ace Jones did that, but she won’t have a business card made, so here’s her telephone number.’”
“You know, I had actually decided to do just that. I was going to ask you which printer you use.”
“Good.”
“Can I just say that I think you’re going to have a very successful place here because you are one bossy boss woman.”
“I take that as a compliment,” she says and disappears into the kitchen.
“Hey, Chloe,” I say when I walk back into the party room, “would you like for us to start loading up your vehicle?”
“Oh no,” she says. “J.J.’s nieces are about to get started on that.”
We stand around and chitchat for a while longer and I go back three times to get some more of Jalena’s pineapple cheese dip. We pester Chloe about a bachelorette party until she snaps at us and we finally hush.
“Chloe, ever the party animal,” Lilly whispers, and I start giggling.
“Are y’all talking about me?” Chloe asks, coming up between us and putting an arm around each of our shoulders.
“Not us,” I say.
“Never,” Lilly says.
Later that afternoon, after everything has been cleaned up and put away, I sit down with Jalena and, while we’re snacking on the samples she saved for us, talk about how well everything went.
“I don’t like showers,” I tell her, “but this one was great.”
“It’s because it was for someone you care about.”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“People sure are nice around here,” she says. “You used to tell me all kinds of stories about people from Bugtussle, Mississippi, and I have yet to meet anyone like those you used to talk about.”
“Yeah, things have changed. They’re not so bad.”
“I don’t think the people have changed. I think you have.”
“Maybe so,” I say, getting depressed because all of this wisdom is making me feel old.
When I get home, Lilly is sitting in my driveway.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Will you go with me to the pet store?”
“For what? Are you buying a bird?”
“No,” she says. She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t.
“Okay, what’s up? What’s going on?”
“I have a kitten.”
“A what?”
“A kitten.”
“What in the world are you doing with a kitten? Where did you get it? And where is it right now?”
“Well, I was really missing Dax the other day and I had to get out of the house, so I went and got a cherry limeade and was just riding around on some back roads when I passed a sign that said, ‘Kittens in need of love. Free to a good home.’ And I thought, ‘I have a good home,’ so I stopped and got one. Okay, I’m lying. I got two. Because there were only two left and they were playing and stuff and I didn’t want to separate them. So, yeah, I have two kittens. One is solid gray and the other is black-and-white.”
“Have you fed them?”
“Oh yeah, the people were really nice. They packed up a little care package and gave me everything the kittens would need for the first few days.”
“Yeah, I bet they were really nice,” I say, and I’m being sarcastic. I can’t believe Lilly stopped at a stranger’s house and picked up two kittens.
“They were.” She starts digging around in her purse. “I have this list. Will you go with me?”
“Of course.” I poke her in the arm. “So can Uncle Buster Loo cat-sit sometime?”
“Well, I’ll have to have some references first. I can’t leave my sweet little kitties with just anyone.”
“Let me go inside and get him. He would be so upset if I went to the pet store without him.” I go in and get his leash and take my dog to the pet store and help Lilly stock up on supplies for her new cats, what’s-its-name and what’s-its name. When we get back to her house, I ease Buster Loo into the cat introduction.
One paws at his wagging tail and the other rolls around near his front paws. Buster Loo just stands there, looking stressed out. Then he flops down on his side and starts playing with the kittens.
“Okay, he can kitten-sit,” Lilly says.
“I still can’t believe you brought these home with you,” I tell her.
“I love them,” she says. “They make me laugh and they’re sweet.”
42
Sunday afternoon, the wedding goes off without a hitch, and it’s a beautiful and wonderful ceremony. Tate walks me down the aisle and I can’t help myself from thinking, What if this were us? We have pictures made immediately afterward and the photographer is bossy and impatient. In all the hustle and bustle, I haven’t been able to say more than two words to Tate. He’s been very nice but seems distracted. As we wait our turn for pictures, I ask him how he’s doing.
“Oh, I’m fine,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to call you.” Of course you have, I think. I believe him because I want to. “And I’m nervous about making this goddamned toast.”
I don’t have time to reply because the photographer starts barking at us and we have to step up and smile for the camera. After the cutting of the cake, the dancing of the first dance, and the toasting of the toast, of which I think Tate does a stellar job, Chloe says that she has to get away from the crowd for a minute. I follow her down to a sitting area by the lake where we’re soon joined by Lilly, Stacey, and Cameron. Jalena shows up a minute later with a bottle of champagne, a handful of plastic wine cups, and a bottle of water for Chloe. She pops the top and I hold the cups while she pours. We all sit back and relax, sipping and chatting and watching the lake change color as the sky gets darker.
“What a lovely evening,” Cameron says. “Chloe, you looked like a dream up there.”
“Thank you, Cameron,” she says.
“I tell y’all what,” Stacey says. “Chloe did look like a dream, but this girdle I decided to wear is a nightmare.”
“Go take it off,” Lilly says. “Get comfy.”
“I might later,” Stacey says. “I spotted a good-looking man in line at the punch bowl, so I’ll just tough it out in case I see him again.”
“So where are y’all going on your honeymoon?” Jalena asks.
“J.J. won’t tell me,” Chloe says. She narrows her eyes. “Do y’all know?”
“Like he would tell us anything he didn’t want you to know,” Lilly says with a snort.
“That is true,” I say.
“Okay, so I have an announcement,” Stacey says. “I’m going to summer school. Roll Tide.”
“Summer school?” I say. “So they took your classes?”
“Yes, they did,” Stacey says. “I’m moving to Tuscaloosa. Gonna graduate in August. My counselor over there is so nice. I have to take two online classes instead of one, but that’s okay because I’ll still be getting paid and my counselor introduced me to a financial person and I’m getting a big grant. Gonna be able to pay my car off again for like the tenth time.”
“Stacey, that is great! Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Well, all of this was going on and I didn’t want to take any of Chloe’s thunder away. But I’m pretty excited.”
Chloe gets up to hug her. “Congratulations, Stacey. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you have a job here next year.” She looks at me. “What am I going to do about subs in A and B Hall?”
“Hell if I know,” I say.
“Have you heard from Dax?” Chloe asks Lilly.
“Yes, they’re getting settled into their FOB or something like that. He claims that he’s fine and that he’s not in imminent danger. I try to believe him.”
“He’ll be home before you know it,” I tell her.
“I can’t wait.”
“So,” I say, turning to Chloe, “what are we going to name this baby?”
“Oh, I can’t even think about that right now,” Chloe says.
“Yeah, Ace, let her enjoy her shotgun wedding for a minute,” Lilly says. “Dang!”
“Thank you for that, Lilly,” Chloe says, getting up. “Girls, I need a hug.”
We get up and take turns hugging Chloe, the most beautiful bride I’ve even seen.
Cameron and Stacey start bragging on Jalena’s catering skills, and Chloe reaches out and takes my hand and then Lilly’s. “Y’all are the best friends a girl could ask for,” she says. “I love you both so much.” I hear a rustle in the bushes and turn to see J. J. Jackson coming down the hill. “J.J.?” Chloe says. “Why didn’t you just come down the steps?”
“Your aunt Clareen is camped out up there, and I had to find a way around that, if you know what I mean.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “She’s always kissing me and she slobbers.” Chloe starts giggling.
“Sorry.”
“Hey, that ring looks good on your hand there, Sheriff Jackson,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says, looking at it. “I think so, too.”
“J.J.,” someone yells. “Is that you?”
We all look up to see Chloe’s aunt Clareen teetering at the top of the steps. “How did you get down there?”
“I think Aunt Clareen has a crush on you,” Lilly says.
“I need to get back up there,” Chloe says. She looks at J.J. “I just needed a minute.”
“Who doesn’t?” he says, glancing up at Aunt Clareen. “Oh yeah, and Ace,” he says, glancing my way, “Tate is looking for you.”
Lilly, Stacey, and Jalena start making all kinds of racket about that, and I smooth my skirt and say, “Well, who am I to keep the gentleman waiting?”
I find Tate leaning on the outdoor bar, which is made of stone and facing the lake. He’s talking big-game hunting with the bartender when I ease up and order a beer. As the bartender works the keg, Tate Jackson and I make small talk.
“So what about that aunt Clareen,” I ask, nodding toward J.J. who has just been approached by the silver-haired little lady. We watch as she elbows her way in between J.J. and Chloe.
“Oh, she’s a hot one,” he says. “Looks like the type to wear cheetah print underwear.”
The bartender has a hearty laugh at that while I stand there and smile. I try to bat my lashes like Lilly always used to do.
“I brought my boat up,” he says, like I know all about his boat. “You wanna ride up to Pickwick with me tomorrow?”
“I’d love to,” I say. And just like that, I have a date that I’m actually looking forward to. We wander away from the crowd, talking about nothing in particular, but it’s the most interesting conversation I’ve ever had in my life. When the band starts to play, he looks at me and smiles. He puts down his cup and takes mine from my hand.
“Ace Jones, would you like to dance?”
“I would love to.” Do I dare to dream again?
After two songs, the music stops and I’m sorely disappointed that I have to step away from Tate Jackson. Chloe appears on the bandstand with a microphone.
“Can I have all the single ladies over here, please?” she says sweetly. “It’s time to toss the bouquet!”
“You better go,” Tate says, and I roll my eyes. “C’mon, be a sport.” He pats me on the butt and I almost pass out.
“Okay, okay!” I say, thinking I should probably get away from him before I start humping his leg. I join the crowd of single ladies where Lilly is standing, looking like she wants to die, and Stacey Dewberry is hunched over like a lineman waiting for the snap.
“I hate this part,” Lilly whispers.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” I say. “Just pay attention and don’t let it hit you in the face.”
“You probably want to catch it, don’t you?” she says with a coy smile.
“Hey, shut up,” I tell her.
“Ready?” Chloe says, and turns around. “Three…Two…One…”
Chloe launches that bouquet of red roses over her head, and it flies through the air as gracefully as if it had butterfly wings. And then it begins to c
ome down closer, closer, and closer. I see Stacey reaching for it, but the bouquet soars just out of her reach. It’s coming right for me! Roses facing upward, the ideal position for a perfect catch. I put my hands up and my heart begins to pound. That bouquet is almost…almost…almost in my hand. I’m already planning my wedding to Tate Jackson when Aunt Clareen lunges in front of me, a streak of silver, and latches onto those flowers like a leech.
“I got it!” she yells. “I got it!” And then she trips and tumbles down on the deck. As she rolls around with her legs in the air, which I can’t help but think she does on purpose, I see that she is indeed wearing cheetah print panties. Now what are the chances of that?
“Safe!” Stacey Dewberry shouts, extending both of her arms like an umpire. And then we all rush to make sure Aunt Clareen is okay. Thank goodness and not surprisingly, she is. When the ruckus is over, I walk back to where Tate is standing. He’s holding two fresh drinks.
“Intercepted,” he says with a smile. He hands me a beer.
“That it was,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“I was right about the underwear.”
“That you were,” I say. “Makes me wonder how you knew.”
“Oh, you don’t wanna know that,” he says. “But I will say that those cheetah print granny panties are almost the sexiest thing I’ve seen all night.” He drapes his arm around my shoulder and my cheeks starts to burn. “Almost.”
“And who is this fine young man?” I hear someone say. I turn to see Gloria and Birdie, both dressed to the nines and wearing wide-brimmed hats. Birdie isn’t conspicuous in her assessment of Tate Jackson.
“This is J.J.’s older brother, Tate,” I say, trying hard to stop blushing.
“Oh, I remember you,” Gloria says with a smile. “It’s been years. How are you?”
“Looks to me like he’s just fine,” Birdie says, and then commandeers the conversation, peppering Tate with questions until he’s summoned by the groomsmen who, no doubt, have some mischief planned for the bride and groom.
“I see you’ve found a man who likes to dance,” Gloria says.
“It seems that I might have,” I tell her.
Down and Out in Bugtussle Page 28
