by Cathy Holton
“Look, Lavonne, let's just drop the inner-child shit. I told you. I don't want children.”
“Not the inner child. The Divine Child. The symbol of self.”
Eadie looked at her like she might have sprouted hair on her face, like she might have something black and slimy trapped between her two front teeth. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Lavonne shrugged. She chuckled and shook her head. “I don't know what I'm talking about,” she said. “Pour me another Cosmo and let me see if I can figure it out.”
Eadie grinned and picked up the cocktail shaker. “I don't think the analyst is supposed to drink during sessions.”
“Neither is the patient.”
They raised their glasses and touched them lightly.
“To middle-age neurosis,” Eadie said.
TWO WEEKS LATER, EADIE AWOKE WITH A START. SHE HAD BEEN dreaming about her mother again, some dream about water, a lake or a river, or maybe the sea. Reba was sitting in the bow of a small boat wearing white gloves and a hat and she was calling to Eadie across the water, something faint and insistent. Eadie had turned her head and was straining to hear her mother's voice, which was like the rustling of dry leaves.
She sat up. Late-afternoon sun flooded the room. The clock read five o'clock. Across the room, in front of an opened window, a stack of papers flapped in the breeze. She got up and went into the kitchen, where Lavonne was sitting at the table reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee. Looking up, she said, “What's wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I did.” Eadie picked up the phone and dialed Nita's house but there was no answer. Then she dialed Nita's cell phone.
“What's going on?” Lavonne said. She and Eadie and Nita had spent the afternoon at the Kudzu Festival where Loretta had taken first place in the Betty Crocker Cook-Off for her recipe “Elvis's El Wienie Mexicano.” They had hung around for the Hubcap Throw, Bobbing for Pigs Feet, and Hillbilly Jeopardy but had left before the recliner race, NASCHAIR, because it reminded Nita too much of Jimmy Lee. He'd taken fourth place two years ago with his blue velour Barcalounger, right behind the Pickett brothers with their plaid La-Z-Boy outfitted with a beer cooler, a remote control carry case, a crude steering wheel, and a drop-down table tray onto which had been glued a plate, a NASCAR beer coozie, and a fork on a chain.
Lavonne folded up the newspaper. “What in the hell is going on?”
“I think I may have figured out what my mother was trying to tell me.” Eadie held up one finger for her to be quiet. “Nita,” she said, when Nita finally answered. “Where are you?”
“I'm at my folk's house,” Nita said. “The children are here and we're having dinner.”
“Where's your notebook? The one you used to take notes about Virginia's tragic childhood?”
“It's at home. Why?”
“You're going home later to dress for the Kudzu Ball, right?”
Nita hesitated. “Listen, Eadie,” she said. “I've been thinking about that. I don't think I'm going to make the ball this year.”
“Oh yes you are,” Eadie said. “Come on, Nita. I stayed in town just for this. We've already bought our ball gowns.”
“I paid two dollars and fifty cents for mine so it's not a big loss.”
“Nita, you need to get out. You need to have some fun to take your mind off all the shit going on in your life right now. Don't make us come over there and get you.”
Nita sighed. “All right,” she said. “I'll go. Just a minute.” She put her hand over the receiver and then came back on. “Mama says she's coming with me. She says she's pretty sure you two will need a designated driver to get home. We'll meet you over there.”
“Don't forget to bring the notebook,” Eadie said.
“Tell me what's going on.”
“I'll tell you when you get there.” Eadie hung up and sat down at the table. She chewed her bottom lip and stared blankly at the wall clock. Her leg bounced up and down like it was attached to electrodes.
Lavonne watched her steadily. “Okay,” she said finally. “Spill it.”
“Not yet.” Eadie shook her head slowly. “I want to read the last few entries in Nita's notebook first. I want to make sure I've got this right before I say anything.”
“Does this have anything to do with Nita getting Whitney back?”
Eadie looked at her. “Maybe,” she said. “If I'm right. If we can figure out how to use it.”
Lavonne tapped her fingers against the table. A shaft of sunlight fell through the French doors, illuminating Eadie's face. “What time do you want to go to the ball?”
Eadie shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the wall clock. “I don't know. Maybe around nine. Grace won't be crowned until ten o'clock and I want to be there to see that.” Grace Pearson was this year's Kudzu Queen. She was going as Miss Velveeta Gritz. Eadie and Lavonne had decided to return in their roles as Aneeda Mann and Ima Badass.
“What do you say I make up a batch of Cosmos and we start celebrating a little early. We can take a taxi to the ball.”
Eadie slid her eyes from the clock to Lavonne's face. She grinned. “Damn, Miss Badass,” she said. “You're a mind reader.”
THEY ARRIVED AT THE BALL JUST AS QUEEN VELVEETA GRITZ WAS arriving in the Kudzu Kruiser. The Kruiser was the brainchild of Clayton Suttles, who covered his Bonneville convertible in chicken wire and parked it every year at the edge of a large stand of kudzu. At the end of the summer he went in with a metal detector to retrieve it, cutting away large clumps of trailing vine but leaving the car swathed in greenery. The overall effect was that of a long flat topiary on wheels.
A large crowd waited outside the huge striped circus tent set up in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Vernon Caslin, this year's master of ceremony, stood at the end of a long roll of red carpet covered in peanut shells waiting for the queen's arrival. His name tag read Hi, My Name's Spud Daddy, What's Yours? As the Kruiser pulled slowly into the lot, the crowd went wild. Vernon walked up to the Kruiser and gave Grace his hand. She stood up. She was dressed in a truly hideous white satin number covered in black polka dots. The dress was ankle-length and had a sweetheart neckline and leg o' mutton sleeves. She wore a white veil and a kudzu vine wreath that stood up around her head like a crown of thorns.
“Damn,” Eadie said when she saw her. “Where'd you get that Mother of the Bride of Frankenstein dress? It's hideous. Did you have it specially made or did someone else actually wear it first?”
“Salvation Army Store in Atlanta,” Grace said proudly. “I saw it and knew no one else could possibly have one as tacky. Although yours is close,” she said, appreciatively eyeing Eadie's puff-sleeve, white satin bodice with a ruched black velvet skirt cocktail dress. “And I love what you've done with your feet.”
“Thanks,” Eadie said, holding one leg out for her inspection. She was wearing combat boots and a white sailor hat sprigged with kudzu that she'd picked up down at the Army & Navy Store.
“And speaking of hideous, Lavonne, look at you.”
“It takes a lot of work to look this bad,” Lavonne said proudly. She'd found a floor-length, gold lamé, Grecian-style dress down at the Baptist thrift store in Valdosta. On the back of Lavonne's exposed shoulder, Eadie had drawn a tattoo in Magic Marker that read, Born to Party. Underneath it was a crude drawing of a grinning skull resting in a martini glass.
“The tattoo's a nice touch.”
“Thanks,” Lavonne said. She'd done her hair up in a Grecian roll with a headband made of kudzu vine. She wore bedroom slippers on her feet. They were spray-painted gold and had sequins and faux fur glued to the tops.
They followed Grace into the tent that had been strung with colored lights in the shape of shotgun shells. Round tables sporting camouflage tablecloths were set up on the left side of the huge tent and the buffet tables to the right. The Kudzu Ball was open to anyone with a sense of humor who understood that Southerners like to poke fun at themselves but don't much like anyone else doing it,
by God. That being said, this year's theme was Trailer Park Cuisine. Each table sported a miniature trailer along with recipe cards for such delicacies as Pearl Purdy's Slutty Pups, Baptist Beans, Jethro's El Grande Sausage Balls, Sister Wahneeta's Old Rugged Cross Cake, and Flaming Possum. The buffet tables held samples of these and other trailer park favorites such as Engine Block Pork, Velveeta Fudge, Ima Pornstar's Hussy Dip, and Roadkill Potatoes. As Grace and Vernon entered the tent, the band, the Appalachian Groove Boys, launched into their hit single, “Talk Dirty.”
Eadie saw Nita and Loretta sitting alone at a table and she steered Lavonne in their direction. Nita was dressed in a high-waisted calico gown, the kind of thing a hippie bride might have worn in 1974. A bottled water rested on the table in front of her.
“Don't tell me you're drinking bottled water,” Eadie said to her, as she sat down. “Where's the Kool-Aid?” Kudzu Kool-Aid was the featured beverage of the Kudzu Ball and was rumored to be made from a number of ingredients, including various over-the-counter cold medicines as well as generous amounts of Curtis Peet's homebrewed whiskey. It was guaranteed to be strong enough to “suck the chrome off a bumper.”
“Y'all, I can't drink that stuff,” Nita said. “Last time I drank it, Jimmy Lee had to carry me home.”
No one wanted to talk about Jimmy Lee right now, so Eadie just nodded at Loretta and said to Nita, “Did you bring the notebook?”
Loretta was wearing a high-collared pink taffeta number and faux diamond studded librarian glasses. “What's this all about?” she said, leaning toward Eadie. Nita had told her about the notebook on the way over.
“First, I need a drink,” Eadie said. She waved her hand at Banks Hollowell who passed carrying a tray of drinks. He was dressed in overalls and a camouflaged baseball cap that read, A Mind Is a Fun Thing to Waste.
“Hey,” he said, smiling so they could see his plastic Billy Bob teeth, “do y'all need a drink?” He swung his tray down theatrically and Lavonne and Eadie each took a plastic cup. Banks had been an associate at Boone & Broadwell before it folded and Lavonne was surprised to see him here.
“Shouldn't you be over at the Cotillion Ball tonight?” she said, taking a sip of Kool-Aid. It burned like battery acid down the back of her throat. The first sip was always the worst. After that, you didn't notice much.
“Naw,” he said, grinning. “This is more fun.” He moved off into the crowd and Nita set the notebook out on the table.
“Whatever it is you have to say, say it quick,” she said to Eadie. “We're not staying long.”
“I thought you were our designated driver,” Lavonne said to Loretta. Her tongue stuck to her teeth like a sea slug. She was beginning to realize the preparty shaker of Cosmos might not have been such a good idea.
“I'll take Nita home and then come back for you,” Loretta said, squinting. “But from the looks of you girls, you might want to go easy on the Kool- Aid. I got a bad back. I'm not carrying anyone out of here tonight.”
“We'll keep that in mind,” Eadie said. She tapped her finger against the top of the notebook. “Read that last section,” she said to Nita. “The part where Virginia goes away after she finds out Hampton Boone is going to marry Maureen Hamilton.”
“He had too much sense to settle on Virginia,” Loretta said.
“Read it,” Eadie said.
Nita picked up the notebook and read, “When she went away in January I was crying, and her mama was crying, and her daddy was crying and saying, ‘Poor little Queenie, poor little Queenie,’ over and over, but her eyes were dry and hard as bone. She sat down in the bow of the boat and held on to the sides with her little gloved hands and looked straight ahead like a woman who knows what it is she has to do.”
“Okay,” Eadie said, her eyes flashing. “Now read that part right before. Where she's saying she needs to tell him something but only if he loves her.”
Nita frowned and followed the page with her finger. “You mean this?” she said, and began to read. “The week before he went back to school, I held her in my arms again and this time she was crying and saying, over and over, Leota, what am I going to do? What am I going to do? I love him. And I said, you have to tell him, and she said, I can't unless I know he loves me.”
Eadie grinned and slapped the table, looking from one to the other until Lavonne, losing patience, said, “What? What is it?”
“Don't you see?” Eadie said, grabbing Nita's arm and giving it a little shake, but Nita only looked annoyed. “Virginia had something to tell Hamp Boone that summer. Something important.” She picked up the notebook and read, “When she went away in January I was crying, and her mama was crying, and her daddy was crying …” She put the notebook down and looked at Lavonne but Lavonne only stared at her with a blank expression on her face.
“I don't get it,” she said.
“Virginia was pregnant! She was carrying Hamp Boone's child and that's what she had to tell him that summer, and that's why she went away in January. To have the baby!”
Loretta said, “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Nita and Lavonne looked at Eadie like she was crazy. “It doesn't say that,” Lavonne said stubbornly, picking up the notebook.
“Read between the lines,” Eadie said impatiently. “If she got pregnant in June, then she'd be about six months pregnant by December and probably showing. That's why she had to go away.”
“Who got pregnant?” Loretta said.
Nita frowned. “But why didn't Leota just say that? Why didn't she say Virginia was pregnant?”
“Maybe she forgot why Virginia had to go away. Or maybe she was trying to protect her.”
“Let me see that,” Loretta said, reaching for the notebook.
Lavonne shook her head slowly, still looking puzzled. “But Virginia was in high school. If she got pregnant, somebody would know.”
“She graduated early,” Nita said quietly. “She's always bragging about how she was smart enough to graduate from high school early and then went to work at Roobin's Department Store to save money for college. Only later she met the Judge, and got married instead.”
“Don't you see, it all makes sense,” Eadie said, throwing herself back in her chair. “Maureen Boone hated Virginia. And when I asked Trevor later, after his mother died, he said it was because of something that happened a long time ago. Some bad blood between them. His mother would never tell him what. He just assumed it had something to do with the law firm.”
“And that would explain why Virginia married the Judge in the first place.” Lavonne was beginning to catch on. “Because he was Hamp Boone's law partner and marrying him kept Virginia as close to Hamp as she could be.”
Nita's expression changed again. Her eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. “If it's true that Virginia had a baby with Hamp Boone, a baby that she gave up for adoption, then we could use that. If we could prove it. That's not the kind of thing Virginia would want to get around town. We could use it to bargain with her. To get Whitney back.”
“But how do we prove it?” Lavonne said.
“Easy!” Eadie said. “We go out to the nursing home and ask Leota Quarles.”
Nita's face fell. “Well, that might be a problem,” she said. “Seeing's how Leota is dead.”
Eadie said, “Shit.”
Lavonne said, “If Virginia had a baby out of wedlock and gave it up for adoption, it would be about forty-nine years old. If only we could figure out some way to find out who it is.”
Grace Pearson danced by in Vernon Caslin's arms. The Groove Band launched into a toe-tapping version of “The Walleyed Boogie.” Grace saw them and shouted, “Y'all get up and dance! If I have to make a fool of myself, you do, too!”
Eadie said, “Maybe we could get access to adoption records.”
“How do we get access to adoption documents that are probably sealed?”
“We start with the Internet,” Nita said. “We figure out where she might have gone to have a baby and then we nar
row it down from there.”
Lavonne shook her head. “I'm pretty sure there are laws about that. I'm pretty sure only the birth mother or adopted child can access that information.”
Eadie was too excited about the prospect of exposing Virginia to let a few rules and regulations get in her way. “Hell, if we have to we'll hire a private investigator,” she said. “Maybe we should just do that to start with.”
“No,” Nita said grimly, shaking her head. “This is something I need to do.”
No one said anything for a few minutes. Lavonne stared fixedly at the camouflage tablecloth and then looked up. “Loretta, I've got a question for you,” she said.
Loretta stuck her finger on the page to keep her place. Her eyes, behind her sparkling glasses, were wary. “Shoot,” she said.
“In your day, if a girl got pregnant out of wedlock, where would she go to have the baby?”
Loretta frowned. “Listen, girls, I think you might be jumping the gun a little bit here. You got to remember these were the ramblings of a ninety- year-old woman who may or may not be remembering things correctly.”
“Humor me,” Eadie said. “There must have been adoption agencies up in Atlanta and some of the major cities,” she said, trying to encourage Loretta. “Places where a girl could go.”
“Well, sure there were. But those places kept records. If you were trying to keep it quiet, you most likely went to one of those homes for unwed mothers. They didn't keep too many papers. They didn't ask too many questions. I had a good friend who got knocked up and she went up to some place in north Georgia and had her baby.”
“What was it called?” Lavonne said, getting out her Daytimer. “The home, I mean.”
Loretta looked up at the strings of colored lights. She sighed and scratched her head. “I can't remember the name of the place, but it seems like it was run by the Catholics. There was another one, over in Valdosta, but it was run by the Baptists and you had to sign a paper saying Jesus was your Lord and Savior before they'd take your baby away from you.” She watched Lavonne write this down and then she said, “Hey girls, I don't want to rain on your parade, but it seems to me you're getting excited over something that might not be worth getting excited about.”
