Biloxi Brides (Sugar and Grits)

by Martha Rogers

  Wendell looked down at the floor. Sassy couldn’t help but notice a peculiar look on Fanny’s face. Is that jealousy?

  “Wendell’s one of my favorite customers,” Fanny said with a broad grin. “I always look forward to our visits together.” She thrust out her hand. “That will be $10.67.”

  Sassy pressed eleven dollars in the woman’s robust hand and waited for her change.

  “Yes, Wendell’s one of my very favorite customers,” Fanny said, clutching the money tightly in her fist, gazing tenderly at Wendell.

  I’m still here.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Fanny finally handed Sassy thirty-three cents. “Have a nice day,” she muttered, her eyes still on Wendell. Sassy made her way to the door, ready for a quick exit.

  He followed silently behind her, waiting until they were outside before he spoke. “Sassy, are you headed home?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Well,” he suddenly looked frightened, like a kid facing a school principal. “I’m, uh…”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m going to be having a Chickenfoot party at my place this Saturday night and I thought maybe you might like to come.”

  “Is it a Sunday School party?” That’s what I get for missing church last week. I’m always the last to hear everything.

  “No. Just a get together for a few friends.”

  Sounds suspicious. “Like who?”

  “Oh, Gus’ll be there, of course. And Fletcher and Dottie Jean. You could ask several of your younger gal friends if you like. That Sue Ellen’s a sweet thing – even if she did turn me into a redhead.”

  Sassy laughed long and loud before responding. “Yep. She like to ruined you. Glad to see you’ve forgiven her.”

  “I have. And why don’t you go ahead invite Leota and that guy she’s gonna marry if you think he’d like to come.”

  Sassy looked at Wendell intently. In all the years she had known him, she had only been inside his home three or four times, and always with Joe. Did she dare go alone?

  “Give me a couple of days to decide, Wendell.” She inched her way toward the truck. “Right now I’ve got so much work to do I can’t think straight.”

  “I understand,” he said, looking a little sad.

  She nodded a polite goodbye as she got in her truck and pulled away.

  ***

  The phone rang several times in a row as Sassy fought to balance the bags and open the front door of the Bait and Tackle Shop. She reached it by the fifth ring. “Sassy’s Bait and Tackle.”

  “Mom?”

  Tilly. She sounded upset.

  “Yeah. What’s up, honey?” Sassy dropped the bag onto the counter then leaned against it to catch her breath.

  “That’s just what I started to ask.”

  “What do you mean?” Sassy began to unload the groceries, the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder.

  “I mean I saw you and Wendell Meeks together a little while ago when I drove past Fanny’s.”

  “He is a good friend, Tilly.”

  “Aw, come on, Mom. Everyone in town knows he likes you. Might as well admit you like him too.”

  Sassy’s heart began to pound in her ears, making it difficult to hear. “I think you’ve got the wrong number,” she said, and then slammed the phone down, disconnecting the call.

  “That’ll teach her.”

  She pulled the chicken livers from the bag, unwrapping them as she mumbled. “If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll leave me alone.” Still angry, she reached for the box of oatmeal and a large mixing bowl. “I do declare, she’s got a lot of nerve.”

  Sassy quickly mixed the cherry gelatin, then poured it over the oatmeal, shaking her head in disbelief. “People round here have too much time on their hands. They need to get busy taking care of their own lives and leaving mine to me.” She dumped a large can of dog food into the mix, stirring it with all her might. Pulling out a large butcher knife, she began to chop the chicken livers up into tiny bite size pieces. She tossed them into the bowl with the gelatin, oatmeal and dog food, mashing the whole thing into a thick paste. Pinching off pieces of the mixture, she began to work them into small round balls.

  “Those big city fellas think they’re gonna one-up me with their bait recipes,” she mumbled to herself. “Well, I’ll show them a thing of two.” She rolled with a vengeance, laying the finished balls out on a tray to harden. “They’ve met their match in Sassy Hatchett.”

  Her thoughts began to wander as she continued to work. Everyone in town knows he likes you, Mother. She could hear Tilly’s words now, words she fought to ignore. But perhaps her daughter knew more about Wendell Meeks than she did.

  “But how do I feel about him, Lord?” Sassy reflected on Wendell a moment. “He is awfully nice, and so generous. He’d be a prize catch for some great lady. But me, Lord? Surely you’re not thinking of hooking me up with Wendell Meeks, are You? Cause if You are, I sure would like to know it ahead of time.”

  She reached for more chicken livers, dicing them into oblivion as her thoughts wandered. “He really does seem to like me, although I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why.” She stared down at the meat on the counter, recognizing the mess she had made of it. Scraping it off into a trashcan, she muttered, “Chickenfoot. Sounds suspicious.”

  Sassy paused, looking at the door he had so recently fixed. Suddenly she knew exactly what she must do. “Wendell Meeks is a good man,” she said to the door. “I don’t give a rip what Tilly or anyone else thinks. I believe I’ll go to his party.”

  ***

  Wendell sat at the Catfish house, nerves frayed as he shared his story with Bud, who seemed more interested than most of Calista’s residents in hearing his thoughts on Sassy. “I don’t know if she’ll come or not,” Wendell said, “but I invited her.”

  “Good for you,” the young deputy sheriff said with a smile. “I always knew you had it in you.”

  “Well, just don’t go making a big deal out of it in front of Gus or Fletcher. They’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

  “Thought they were coming.”

  “They are. I’m just not going to mention Sassy until they get there and see her for themselves.”

  Bud laughed. “Sounds like quite an evening.”

  “I’d like it if you’d come too.” Wendell grew more serious. “I could use someone on my side. Besides, that pretty, young Sue Ellen Caldwell’s back in town, and she’s gonna be there. If memory serves me, you two were sort of an item back in high school, weren’t you?”

  Bud suddenly choked on his tea, turning all shades of red. He had barely begun to recover when his beeper went off. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, looking down at it. “Maybe we could finish this conversation another time.”

  “Fine, fine,” Wendell said, grinning at him. Looks like I struck a nerve. Maybe I’m not the only one with my hook baited here.

  Chapter Six

  Tropical storm Velma made her debut in the Gulf of Mexico just as Biloxi’s best weather forecasters predicted the hurricane season would draw to an uneventful close. As if in direct defiance, she inched her way ashore the final week of September, blowing in with a vengeance.

  Sassy fought her way home from town just as the storm’s center hit land, the back of her truck loaded down with enough lumber to board up the Bait and Tackle. “Looks like a big one,” she said, watching the darkening sky with a shiver of fear. At times like this, I realize how safe Joe always made me feel. Sassy longed for that safety now, though she wondered if she could ever know such comfort again.

  Her thoughts immediately shifted to Tilly and Tucker, and she prayed for their protection. “Lord, help Tilly at the Cafe Latte. Keep her safe, and guard the store. Oh, and Lord, give Tucker the good sense to come in out of the rain.”

  She drove past her house and on around the bend to the Bait and Tackle Shop. The wind whipped at the old truck, causing the lumber to jolt. A large sheet of plywood shot up,
nearly coming through the back window. As if on cue, it settled once again into the bed of the truck.

  She rounded the final corner, breathing a huge sigh of relief as she spotted a familiar car in front of the shop.

  Wendell. Thank God.

  ***

  Wendell hammered a large sheet of plywood over the front window of Sassy’s Bait and Tackle, fighting high winds as he worked. A sudden gust picked up his hat, dancing it across the open field in the direction of the river. No point in trying to get it. He’d never make it back alive. He picked up the small container of nails and the large hammer, struggling to make his way back into the shop.

  “Everything okay out there?” Sassy asked as she filled two cups with coffee.

  He closed the door, paused to catch his breath then placed the hammer and nails into his toolbox. “It is now.”

  She smiled warmly as she handed him the hot cup of coffee. “I can’t thank you enough.” Their fingers touched briefly as the cup exchanged hands. Wendell used the opportunity to gaze into her eyes for a response. Sassy’s cheeks turned pink, and she shifted her attention to the floor. “I’m sorry about your party.” She gestured for him to sit at the small table at the back of the shop.

  “Aw, that’s okay.” After all, I’m still spending time with you. That’s all I really wanted, anyway. “There’ll be plenty of opportunity for parties after all this dies down.” He sat and gazed at her wistfully.

  “Coffee okay?” she asked.

  I’m too distracted by those incredible eyes to notice.

  “Wendell?”

  He took a careful sip. “Great. Better than your daughter’s, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  Sassy laughed loudly. “Thanks. I think I can say without too much pride that you’re right. I don’t think I could ever get used to those fancy names, anyway. Mocha Cappa Whatcha-ma-callit. Cinnamon Streusel Delight. Caramel Mocha Something-or-Another. Good grief.”

  “Whoever heard of putting whipped cream in coffee?” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Or chocolate,” she added, making a face. “That’s just sinful, messing up a good cup of coffee with chocolate.”

  “Crazy.” They both spoke in unison. Sassy laughed again, taking another drink.

  “Just give me good, old-fashioned black coffee,” he said, pointing to his mug. “Like this.”

  “Me too,” Sassy said. “But this is my third cup since you got here. If I drink one more, I’ll be able to thread the sewing machine with it running.”

  What an amazing sense of humor. Does she have any idea how clever she is?

  He reached to touch her hand as he spoke. “You’re so funny, Sassy.” He pulled it away instinctively, worried about what she might think.

  “Some people don’t think so,” she said with a shrug.

  “They just don’t know you like I do.”

  She gave him a curious look, and then took another swig of coffee. “I was hoping to make it back up to the house before the storm passed over.” Her words were laced with anxiety. “But it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.” As if to accentuate her thoughts on the matter, a blast of rain suddenly battered the roof.

  The noise continued on as they talked. “We should be just fine here.” Wendell raised his voice, still trying to sound as confident as he could, though his own nerves were more than a little rattled.

  Just then a booming peal of thunder shook the building. Sassy let out a scream and dropped her cup onto the floor. It broke into pieces, splattering coffee all over Wendell’s feet. At that very moment, the room went dark. The hum of the fan overhead slowly died down as reality set in. We’ve lost power. He reached across the table for her hands. “Are you okay?”

  “I…I’m fine.” She clutched his fingers.

  They sat quietly for a moment, hands securely clasped, listening to the driving rain. The building shook with the rumble of thunder on occasion, and Sassy trembled in fear. Wendell held on tighter during those moments.

  In spite of the storm’s fury, he suddenly felt a peace and contentment he had never known. His heart began to pound in his ears, drowning out the sounds above. The whole place could crumble to the ground around him and he would die a happy man. He held Sassy Hatchett’s hands in his own.

  ***

  “Mother, are you okay?”

  Sassy could barely make our Tilly’s voice over the static on the line. “I’m fine, honey.” She looked out of the corner of her eye at Wendell, who sat quietly on the sofa in her living room, eating a ham sandwich and homemade cookies and drinking a large glass of milk.

  “Did the storm do much damage to the house?”

  “I’ve only been home a few minutes, Honey,” she said, looking around. “I haven’t really had time to do inventory.”

  “You were at the shop when the storm hit?” Tilly sounded more nervous than ever.

  “I was.”

  “Are you all right? Is the shop okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Sassy said, smiling in Wendell’s direction. “And the shop is too, thanks to Wendell.”

  “Wendell?” Tilly’s voice suddenly reflected an undeniable degree of irritation.

  “He showed up just in time to board up the windows for me. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  “Well, I suppose, but…”

  “No buts, Tilly.” Sassy’s heart surged with newfound determination. “And I never want to hear another thing about it, do you hear me?”

  The silence on the other end of the line lasted a little too long before her daughter finally responded. “Whatever you say, Mother.”

  They went on to talk about the storm, Tilly giving her take on the damage in town. With only a couple of minor exceptions, Velma had passed over causing little damage. Fanny’s store had lost a front window when strong winds blew a wayward shopping cart through it from the parking lot side, and the church had lost a few tiles from the roof over the fellowship hall, but these were small calamities, considering what could have happened.

  “Leota’s gonna have her hands full digging people out,” Tilly commented with a laugh. “Should be good for business.”

  “Yes, and I imagine half the women in town will show up at the Rhonda-Vous tomorrow to have the storm combed out of their hair.” Sassy ran her fingers through her own messy mop of hair, conscious of the fact that Wendell’s eyes were fixed on her.

  “I just hope people stop in for a cup of coffee while they’re in town,” Tilly said wistfully. “To be honest, business has really been down lately. If the kids didn’t come in after school, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “Yes, well…” Sassy decided it would be better to end the conversation here. She glanced, once again, at Wendell, who sat quietly on the sofa. As her daughter rambled on about the Café Latte, she fought to pay attention. For some reason, her thoughts continually drifted back to what had happened back at the Bait and Tackle. When Wendell reached for her hand, she couldn’t seem to control the emotions that followed, the overwhelming sense of peace and security his touch had brought.

  “Are you there, Mother?” Tilly’s voice startled her back to the present.

  “Uh, yeah, Honey. I’m just a little tired.”

  “Well, get some sleep, then. I’ll be out to see you in the morning.”

  “All right. Goodnight Tilly.” She hung the phone up, catching Wendell’s eye. He stood, moving in her direction, empty plate in hand. “Thanks for the sandwich,

  Sassy.” She took the plate from his hand, carrying it into the kitchen. He followed closely behind. “Tasted great.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me tonight.” She set the plate in the sink and turned to look at him. His blue eyes held her captive, tugging at her heart and twisting it unexpectedly.

  “You’re more than welcome,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time.”

  He’s such a great man. Why do people give me such a hard time about our f
riendship? Even as the words crossed her mind, Sassy realized…

  She and Wendell Meeks were more than just friends. Far more.

  ***

  Wendell grinned all the way home. Thank You Lord for the storm. An odd prayer, he had to admit, but he meant every word. Thank You for giving me the opportunity to be there for Sassy. Thank You for the woman of God that she is.

  His heart swelled suddenly as he relived that moment when his hand reached for hers. “I’m not imagining it,” he said aloud. “I know I’m not.” She could have let go, but she chose to hold tightly to him. For nearly an hour they had sat in the dark, clutching hands. It felt so comfortable, so right.

  A perfect fit.

  Chapter Seven

  October arrived, and the Mississippi coastline slowly recovered from Velma’s assault. However, the unexpected storm had blown in more than high winds. On the heels of this tropical tempest, the truth had swept into town. This truth, in its awful beauty, had torn the blinders from Sassy Hatchett’s eyes, allowing her to see clearly for the first time in years. With her new vision came a startling revelation.

  She liked Wendell Meeks. She really liked him.

  And, as the cooler days of October slipped by, she began realize exactly why. He captivated her with his everyday goodness. In the little things. In the big things. This man had no pretense, and Sassy could pretend no longer, either. For the past three weeks she had been quite candid with herself, though she had shared her thoughts with no one else, not even Wendell. When the time was right, they would tell each other.

  In the meantime, they had enjoyed cups of strong, black coffee on her front porch as the crisp autumn season wrapped them in its cool embrace. They had strolled along the edges of the Biloxi, watching the sunset over gentle, golden waters. Each had occasionally reached out to grasp the hand of the other, neither saying a word in response.