by Linda Apple
“Well, I nevah.” Emma poked her husband. “Marcus, do something.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Tyler.” His father rose from his chair. “Stop making a scene.”
Without looking back, Ty put his arm around me and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
When we got into the car, Ty turned to me. “Hungry?”
“I may be when my nerves calm down.”
“I have an idea.” He pulled onto the road and drove to the Thai Grill. “Wait right here.”
“Okay?” While he was gone, I checked on Mom. Soon he returned to the car with a large bag. “What’cha got there?”
“You’ll see.” He got in and pulled back on the road.
“Did you get enough for the kids?”
“Not going home. And don’t even bother to ask where we are going.”
When he turned into the Moonlight Park entrance, I knew exactly where we were going—the swinging bridge. The path and the bridge were luminous under the moon’s glow. Ty was careful to keep the bridge from swinging while I inched my way to the middle. Below us, the creek’s hymn bubbled in exhilaration. I dared not look down. Maybe when I sat, I’d be brave enough and try to see the glints of light the water carried along its path..
Ty lowered himself beside me and leaned against the tight roping along the sides of the bridge, while I set out our small white boxes of food and bottled water. After we finished eating he pulled me against his chest and kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips. “Sometimes things work out for the best. This seemed to me to be the perfect place to spend our last night together for a while.”
“It is. I love you for thinking of it.” It was perfect. The bridge, the food, the velvety dark of the night, the music of the water below us, and the warmth of Ty’s body so close to mine, made what started out as one of the worst nights to actually become one of the best nights I’d enjoyed in a long time. Nothing his parents had said bothered me any longer. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his face to mine. One kiss led to many. His hands explored my body as eagerly as mine did his. We were almost there, to the point of no return. I pulled back, pushed my hair from my face, and took a shuddering breath.
Ty reached for me. “Baby, I know we had an agreement….” He blew out a breath. “I mean, we are engaged after all. We will marry.”
I felt his frustration. Most people would say we were being silly and unrealistic this day and age, to wait till we were married to make love. But I wanted to wait, and up till now so did he.
“I know. But even as romantic as it might sound, making love on this bridge isn’t as intimate as I would like it to be for our first time.”
“And the kids are at the house.” He glanced up at the winking stars. “Seems we had a little help keeping our resolution.”
He stood and pulled me to my feet. “So we will wait.” He pressed his body hard against mine and covered my mouth with his. “But can we marry in July?”
When he pulled onto Mom’s driveway, we both stared at the house. Neither of us wanted to leave the other. He took my hand and kissed each fingertip. “My plane leaves at five in the morning. I have to be in Memphis at three. I only have time to go home, grab my things and leave. So I guess this is goodbye until I come back home.”
“But, you are exhausted. You can’t drive until you’ve had some rest. Let me go with you to keep you awake.”
“I’ll be fine. All I have to do is think about that swinging bridge.” He lowered his head and stared up at me. “I’ll probably get a speeding ticket.”
I studied his face, burning his image in my mind. “I love you. Be safe and come home to me.”
“Nothing will keep me from you, Avalee. I promise.”
Our parting kiss was soft, longing, and wistful. I climbed out of the truck and watched his taillights all the way down Washington Avenue. When I could no longer see them, I crumbled onto the driveway and wept.
****
May, and June flew by much to my surprise. With Ty gone, I thought the time would drag. But the Market, rehabilitating Mom, and spending time with Ty’s children filled my days. Skye and Glen were frequent overnight visitors at our home, and Momma reveled in her soon-to-be grandchildren. Glen often helped Felix and AJ. Skye asked Mom to teach her to cook. This did wonders for my mother. I’d never made that request and now I regretted it. The only dish I could fix was macaroni and cheese from a box. Even Scott got in on the cooking lessons. All was good.
Ty texted and emailed when he could, but it wasn’t often. His messages about what he’d seen were deeply felt and at times heart-wrenching. He wrote about the wretched conditions he witnessed in the villages and the villagers’ ecstatic reactions when they saw the clean water, and how they broke out in joyous dancing, just as Cadence had described to us in New York. I was sure of one thing; Tyler Jackson would never be the same. Who could after seeing such poverty?
As the weeks passed, he wrote about how well he and Cadence worked together. In the evenings, they brainstormed ideas about the story they wanted to tell. The next day, he’d figure out how to tell that story with his camera. I was so proud of my man. He was realizing his dream.
The day after he left, I started revamping our wedding plans. We decided on the first Saturday in August. I scratched through the original plans in my notebook including the idea of an outdoor wedding. Between the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes, I couldn’t think of anything more miserable. Molly Kate penciled us in to marry at the mansion. I changed the date with the caterers, musicians, and changed my flower orders.
One morning, I took the girls on a road trip. Lexi, Molly Kate, and I went wedding dress shopping in Jackson. It was a real hoot. The sales women kept trying to guide me to the mother of the bride dresses before I explained, “No, I’m the bride, and I want a bride’s dress.”
Young brides with their mothers in the shops tried to conceal their curiosity about the old woman in white while Lexi and Molly Kate oohed and aahed their delight. But I didn’t care. Let them stare. It was finally my turn, unlike the first gown I purchased when Marc and I were supposed to marry, I planned on wearing this wedding gown. We decided on an antique white one-shouldered silk charmeuse dress. The fabric at the bodice gathered into tiny folds. At the waist, larger folds made my waist look tiny. The low cut back added elegance, reminiscent of old Hollywood. In fact, Molly Kate told me I looked like Veronica Lake. The sparkly beads encrusting the shoulder strap gave me just enough bling. I decided against a veil. David would do something fabulous with my hair, so I really didn’t need one.
When we returned, I hung it on the outside of my closet door as a reminder that soon I would be Mrs. Tyler Jackson. Perhaps it also served as a visual to ward off any fears of the marriage never taking place. After all, I’d been this close before.
With all the wedding plans revamped and my dress purchased, all I had to do was wait. I had plenty of things to keep me busy, which helped pass the time. Like today for instance, I was exhausted after helping Momma pick butterbeans, shelling them, and putting them up in the freezer, which is quite a process. First, you have to blanch them, which isn’t any fun in a hot kitchen. Then, you have to plunge them in ice water, dry them off, and pack them in freezer bags.
At dusk, the evening beckoned me to enjoy a glass of wine and listen to the summer’s night song being sung outside my window. Momma, who had been up since four-thirty, went to bed. Now that she was healthy again, I had a hard time keeping up with her. Scott turned in early as well.
I poured my wine and went to the porch swing. The air, perfumed by magnolia blooms, felt soft on my skin. Moving the swing back and forth with my toe, I laid my head back and listened to the cacophony of tree frogs, crickets, and katydids. Occasionally, a mocking bird or an owl would join the fray. The stars glittered in the inky heavens. Was Ty somewhere looking at the same stars? I checked my watch. Ten o’clock. It would be five o’clock for him. He was probably asleep in a tent or some run-down hotel. As if he had re
ad my mind, a text from him pinged on my phone. I smiled as I lifted the wine glass against my lips and drank. But as I read, my smile faded.
—Hey baby. Hope you are still awake. I’ve struggled all night about writing you because I know what I have to say will upset you. So, I’ll get right to the point. It looks like I won’t be home until mid-September. Things are going so great here. Cadence has been sending my pictures to different magazines and newspapers and they all want more. When I get to a place with a signal strong enough to check my email, my inbox is filled with requests and job offers. The documentary hasn’t even been aired yet, but the buzz is so strong companies are already investing in the cause. The response is astounding. Cadence and I spoke last night, and we both feel to stop now would be premature.
I agreed to stay on because I knew you would encourage me to do so. But even knowing you would understand doesn’t make this any easier. So, how do you feel about a fall wedding? That is your favorite time of year, and we could make it a true fall festival celebration. I will make you this promise. When I come home, I will never leave again without you.
I’m so happy Momma Cladie is back to her old self, no, her better self. Tell Scott hello for me and to take care of my lady. I love you with all my heart. You are my first thought in the morning and my last at night.
All my love,
Ty—
My head hummed while I stared at my phone. His words blurred. I wiped my cheeks with my fingers. Silly of me, I know. He was absolutely right in assuming I’d understand and agree. I did understand, and I did agree. Still, the disappointment was crushing. The night no longer held me in its magic. I turned up my wine glass then went to my room. My notebook of wedding plans lay on my dresser. All my May plans had been scratched out and updated to August plans. I made a note to email Jema—again—and then scratched through my plans—again.
****
August arrived in Moonlight with a vengeance. We had been spoiled by a mild summer. Combine the heat with the humidity and you have yourself a Dutch oven. Bees labored in flight from blossom to blossom as if they carried heavy loads on their backs. Flies moved in slow motion. Everyone, everything, wore the soggy blanket of mugginess.
The back door slammed and Momma strolled into the family room. “Mercy, but its hot out there.” She mopped her face with the kitchen towel that never left her shoulder all summer.
“Sugar, cut on that fan over yonder for me?”
“Sure.” I flipped the switch on the old black rotary fan. “What are you doing outside anyway?”
“Watering the garden.” She walked over to the fan and stood in front of it while holding her blouse away from her body.
“Well, why didn’t you water early like you usually do?”
“I’ve been cooking all morning. Scott said he’d be here around five.”
Scott had made a quick trip to New York City to meet with the publisher. He’d only been gone three weeks but it seemed like months. I’d gotten used to his being around.
“I can’t wait.” Scott was exactly what I needed right now. He knew just what to say and do to make me feel better. It had gotten lonely around here lately. Lexi was always working with Sid. He’d appointed her the goodwill ambassador for Moonlight’s tourist industry. When she wasn’t visiting nearby states, she was meeting with Nathan somewhere. Frankly, I didn’t know how she kept her job at the paper. Suffice it to say I rarely saw her. Molly Kate and Stan were still star-struck lovers and uber busy with the B & B. Jema, of course, was in Italy. My, what a difference a year makes. This time last year, we were all up in each other’s business. Now we barely wave at each other on Facebook. Even Skye’s visits had slacked off since her relationship with her football hero boyfriend, Duff, had grown more serious.
“Avalee, honey? You okay?” Momma’s upturned face darkened with concern.
“I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“How about some tea? The heat has us all panting like a fish stranded on dirt.”
“That would hit the spot. It isn’t sweet tea, is it?”
“No, I’m using that stevia stuff.” She made a face. “I’m trying real hard to get used to it.”
I followed her to the kitchen and true to her word, she had been cooking all morning. Every eye on the stove had a pot or pan on it. Both ovens were on. By now, I didn’t even bother to ask if anyone else was coming. She cooked the same for one person as she did for ten. She handed me a sweating glass of ice-cold tea.
“Thanks.” I rubbed the glass across my forehead and took a deep swallow.
“Go look on the sideboard in the dining room. I wanted Scott to sample them and see if he could use any of them for the book.”
“Okay.” I pushed through the swinging door and gasped. Cakes and pies lined the sideboard’s surface. When had she made all of this? Had she tasted them while she made them? I went into immediate worry mode and strode back into the kitchen trying hard to fix my face with a nonjudgmental expression.
“Wow, Mom. What time did you make all of those?”
“I got up around four. That’s why I didn’t get to the watering.”
Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, I stared at my nails. “Did you taste any of them?”
“Absolutely and they are delicious.” She put her hands on the counter and sighed. “You know, it sure is hard to eat all that diabetic food and the foods I love, too. Why, I’m as full as a tick all day.”
I jerked my head up so fast it popped my neck. “Momma?”
A sly grin pushed up one corner of her mouth. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just kidding.”
“Not funny.” I had to admit, she got me with that one.
“I’ve cooked these recipes for so long, I don’t have to taste.” Sighing she conceded, “But it is hard. Having diabetes makes me feel about as lucky as a housefly in a white room filled with swatters.”
“You are lucky, Momma. You are alive.”
“That I am, sugar baby. That I am. And I’m grateful. Now skedaddle on out of here.” She walked to a sink full of dishes and started rinsing them.
Yes, she was a fortunate woman to have survived her health crisis and I was blessed to still have her.
****
As far as I was concerned, Scott couldn’t arrive fast enough. I waited on the front porch swing and watched the road like my mother had when I arrived home last summer. He finally pulled onto the driveway and I sprang up and ran to him. “Oh, Scott. I’ve missed you.”
“Hi, Sweetie. I’ve missed you, too.” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed.
The screen door to the kitchen slammed and Momma strutted toward the car with her arms out. “Sugar, I thought you’d never get here.”
“Hey, Momma C.” I stepped back and surrendered Scott to my mom. He picked her up in a big hug and then set her down. “You look fantastic now. You look like you have lost more weight since the three weeks I’ve been gone?”
“Oh a few.” She turned about. “You know? I feel like a kid again. That is until I try to get up from kneeling in my garden.”
Scott turned his attention back to me with an appraising stare. “And how much weight have you lost?”
“Not sure, maybe a pound or two.” Missing Ty was better than any diet plan on the market.
Momma clapped her hands. “All this weight loss talk makes me hungry. Come on y’all. Supper’s ready.”
Rubbing his hands together, Scott asked, “What’s on the menu for tonight?”
“Fried chicken, fried green tomatoes, purple hull peas, mashed potatoes, and white gravy. And for dessert, seven-layer butter cake with chocolate frosting.”
“Oh, man. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
While Scott washed up in the bathroom, I helped Mom bring the food to the table. “Momma? If you eat all this, you’ll go into a coma.”
“Oh pssh, I have my plate already made and in the warming tray.” She picked up the platter of chicken. “Now, come on. That boy is hungry.”
As usual, Momma swooned watching Scott eat. People enjoying her food was definitely her love language. She seemed to enjoy her baked chicken, steamed broccoli, and sautéed okra. All good food, but by her standards, I knew how hard it was for her to eat healthy and appreciated the cheery front she put up.
After we finished eating and Mom had everything clean and put away she said, “Welp, y’all enjoy your visit. It’s time for me to get in my PJs and watch Wheel.”
Scott kissed the top of her head. “Night.”
I hugged her. “I’m proud of you.”
Momma cocked her head. “Why’s that?”
“I know how hard this diet is on you. That’s all.”
“Oh pfft. I’m learning to eat to live. Not live to eat.” She patted my arm. “But thanks baby.”
When she left the kitchen I took two glasses from the hutch. “Wine on the porch?”
“Sounds divine. I haven’t heard quiet since the last time I visited.”
We settled on the porch rockers. The fans above stirred the night air, still heavy with humidity, and gave pleasant relief. The night bugs and tree frogs were in full voice and lightning bugs glowed on and off like earthbound stars.
Scott chuckled in the darkness. “Did I say something about quiet? Nature is roaring tonight.”
“But, it is a good kind of noise.”
“The best.” He tasted his wine and laid his head back on the cushion. “Have you heard from Ty today?” His tone made me think he had.
“Early this morning. He texted to say he loved and missed me. Have you?”
“Yes. I’m surprised he didn’t say anything to you. He got some incredible news today.”
I sat up and turned to Scott. “What?” My feelings were on the edge of being hurt.
“National Geographic wants him.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. They reached out to him and want to discuss story ideas with him. But he is reluctant. Which is crazy, but I know his reason.”
“What is it?”
“You. They want him this fall. He’s a stand-up guy and he loves you. So much so, he is willing to turn down the chance of a lifetime. You’ve got a good man there, sweetheart.”
