“Okay…so I’m sayin’ now let’s do it.”
“Oh, John Cole, I swear to heaven. If you would have gone to marriage counseling when I wanted to and renewed our vows when I suggested it, we could have avoided so much….”
John Cole, who had now gone to marriage counseling and come around to thinking of renewing marriage vows, knew just what to do.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her—a surefire way to shut her up. It worked well—for both of them.
30
Keeping It Together
You are cordially invited
to join the Berry Family in celebration.
Just married:
John Ray Berry and Gracie Kinney-Berry
Still married:
John Cole Berry and Emma Lou Jennings Berry
August 22nd 1998
Renewal of vows ceremony at 6:00
Barbeque dinner at 8:00
John Cole feared what he might have opened up with suggesting they get married again at the barbeque. Already Emma and Gracie had decided that Johnny and Gracie were going to repeat their vows, so that their parents could see it.
Wanting to edge out of it, he suggested that he and Emma slip off and have Pastor Smith give them a small private ceremony.
“Honey, we can’t do that,” said Emma. “It will be wonderful to have Johnny and Gracie see us renew our vows. It will give them something to remember and something to inspire them for the future. God knows they’re gonna need it,” she added.
He thought about that remark for a moment, then asked, “Will I have to wear a suit?”
“No…but you could put on a sport coat, John Cole. That’s not so much. And I bought you a new summer-weight one.”
There was no way around it. He set himself to get through. And Emma was happy. This made him feel pretty satisfied. And grateful. He had not lost her, as he had feared those few months ago. He had his home, with a darn nice backyard, and his family and his wife. He was a fortunate man.
They kept themselves from building a water feature but Emma did rent a deluxe-model canopy for the occasion.
“It’s goin’ to be mostly in the evenin’,” John Cole protested. “The sun will be on the way down behind the trees.”
“Yes, but this canopy has three ceiling fans.” She saw his expression and spoke quick to head off discussion of cost. “It is August, John Cole. The breeze stops in the evening, and we’re goin’ to swelter.”
“It’s a barbeque. You’re supposed to swelter.” He realized that he would get nowhere with protesting, but he did add, “Do you know what a job it is goin’ to be to get a thing like that set up?”
“The company will set it up Saturday mornin’. You don’t have to do it.”
Of course, he could not let the workman do the job in his yard, and with his electricity, without his supervision.
John Cole fully appreciated Emma’s point about the ceiling fans when, an hour before the guests arrived, they suddenly shut off, and he and Johnny went to work trying to locate the problem. With the caterer’s buffet table and a three-piece band, there were electric cords everywhere.
Out of two hundred invitations, fifteen had been sent to members of the extended Berry family in Eastern Oklahoma. Out of those, the only ones to come were the same two who came to the first wedding thirty-two years earlier—Papa Berry and Charlie J., plus Joella. They arrived early in the day so the men could watch the televised NASCAR race that started at eleven-thirty. They came and sat in front of the television in the family room, while people ran in and out behind them.
Emma told Gracie, “All these years I felt badly for having the weddin’ so far away that all of John Cole’s family couldn’t come. It appears we could have been married in their backyard, and they still wouldn’t have attended. I wasted a lot of energy worryin’ about what they thought. Let that be a lesson to you. They don’t think.”
Also in attendance were many of the parishioners from the Valentine First United Methodist Church. With Pastor Smith, who was officiating at the ceremony, came his entire family, and this, at the moment, included the two Varela girls, Nina and baby Lucy, for whom Emma had purchased a playpen. She said, causing Gracie to be a little nervous, that she was getting ready for grandbabies.
The Holloways, with Winston, brought the Varela boys, Sammy and Nicky, and their father. The Varela children were still living with their Valentine families, because they were not yet certain of trusting their father not to leave them somewhere, as their mother had done. The Smiths and the Holloways also wanted proof of Mr. Varela’s good intentions. Mr. Varela was working to prove himself; he had applied to be transferred to the Army base in Lawton and was considering buying a house in Valentine.
Having spent so many weeks working in the Berrys’ backyard, Sammy Varela felt quite proprietary about it. He went around picking up every scrap of paper that anyone threw down, and repeatedly cautioned the younger children when they got into the pool. He didn’t want water splashed too much and harming the fresh landscaping. Nicky and Willie Lee followed after him.
Nina Varela had decided to adopt Paris Miller and followed after her. As a proud Berry Corporation young employee of the year, who had been given a future college scholarship, Paris took it upon herself to make certain the chairs under the canopy were in order and to assist in seating guests, and to simply keep an eye on things.
She took note of a prissy woman who went up and kissed John Cole on the cheek and then sat where Paris thought only the family should sit. Paris went over and asked the woman who she was.
“I’m John Cole’s office manager,” Shelley Dilks said.
“That’s not family. You need to move back.”
“I’m his private secretary.”
To that, Paris said, “So?” and beside her Nina said, “Yeah, so?”
Shelley Dilks looked from Paris—who sported dyed-black spiked hair, black eye-makeup and black clothes—to the smaller Nina, with a tough expression under a ball cap.
Shelley Dilks moved.
Sylvia and Wadley flew down for the weekend, bringing Sylvia’s father and stepmother, Albert and Giselle, who mostly sat together and kept smiles on their faces as they stared at everyone. They had a little bit of trouble understanding exactly what was being said around them. With all of their traveling, the only Southern state they had ever been to was Florida, where they spoke almost exclusively with either other elderly people from the northeast or Cubans, with whom they easily spoke Spanish.
Then, when Joella asked if she could get them something to drink, Albert said he would like some bourbon. “Neat will be fine.”
Joella stared at him a moment, then said, “We use clean glasses, if that is what you mean. But we do not serve alcoholic beverages in this house.”
A few minutes later, when John Cole was pouring wine for the guests, much to Joella’s disapproval, Sylvia looked up and said, “Oh, my God.”
Everyone followed her gaze to see a tall, thin and handsome man with graying hair come around the corner of the house. On his arm was an equally tall and stately black woman in f lowing clothes. There was about the man a manner that caused every female eye to return to him. Those women with good sense thought: There’s a heartbreak waiting to happen. And they were eager to watch it.
Gracie hurried forward to greet her father, Paul Mercier, and his wife, Simone. While away on their honeymoon, Johnny and Gracie had driven up to Memphis to find and meet him. Johnny had later called to issue a personal invitation to the man to join them at the barbeque, but Paul Mercier was not one to give firm commitments. He had said, “Oh, perhaps…we will see.” Mostly he liked to surprise people and to make an entrance.
He came in now like the free spirit that he was, kissing his daughter and Emma and even Sylvia, who he said was as beautiful as ever. Then he introduced his wife, Simone, who smiled in an elegant manner and greeted everyone with a faint accent. She was from Haiti, had been a model and now managed Paul Mercier’s art
career.
With their closest friends and family standing behind them, in the comfort of ceiling fans, Emma and John Cole, and Gracie and Johnny, took their places in front of Pastor Smith.
Both Gracie and Emma wore simple sun dresses, although Gracie’s had been a gift from her mother and bought at a New York Fifth Avenue shop, and Emma’s had come from a sale at the Dress Barn. Emma wore her wide-brimmed hat, which Belinda had managed to fasten onto her head so that she didn’t have to hold it on. Gracie wore gardenias in her hair. John Cole’s and Johnny’s coats matched; Emma and Gracie had chosen them together. All of that pretty well illustrated their future.
The simple ceremony was over so quickly that Emma thought it was no wonder she had not remembered it the first time. She listened to Gracie and Johnny say their vows. She watched their faces and imprinted the moment on her heart.
Then she smiled at John Cole. He squeezed her hand on his arm as she looked deep into his eyes and repeated the vows that she had helped to compose.
“I promise to love and cherish you, John Cole. For better or for worse, I will meet life beside you and with you, for the rest of our lives.”
“I promise to love and cherish you, Emma Lou. For better or for worse, I will meet life beside you and with you…” he smiled so tenderly it took her breath “…for the rest of our lives.”
They kissed, and everyone applauded.
“Throw the bouquets!” came the shouts.
Gracie threw hers high up in the air, and it came down right to Vella, who stared at it with amazement.
Emma stood poised for several seconds, then drew back and pitched her bouquet right at Sylvia’s head, giving the woman no choice but to catch it or risk having her eye put out.
Sylvia looked at Emma, then at the bouquet as if to throw it down. But then her gaze went to Wadley. With trembling lips she nodded, and the next instant he kissed her.
Belinda said, “Good Lord, this is gettin’ out of hand. Mama, don’t you dare say yes to Jaydee.”
Vella didn’t listen. She was so taken up with the atmosphere that she agreed to begin seeing him again.
Papa Berry and Charlie J. slipped away to the family room to catch the end of the race, which had started two hours late because of a rain delay. Unfortunately, it had already finished, and they had missed Darrel Waltrip winning. No one had thought to record it. Charlie J. was inconsolable.
“Your mama told me that Gracie’s father’s black,” Joella said.
“Yes,” said Emma.
“Oh…” Joella digested that. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now that Mama Nedda is dead. It would have just killed her.”
“Probably.”
“Pop will never know. He does not pay attention to anything but that television anymore…and maybe Johnny. He just loves Johnny to death. I won’t tell him about Gracie’s dad.”
Emma had no reply.
A little later, Emma stood with John Cole, looking at the people enjoying themselves. Children—and Vella Blaine, who was a champion swimmer—were splashing in the pool. Others were eating and chatting beneath the canopy, and still others were dancing—Johnny and Gracie, and Sylvia and Wadley, Winston Valentine and Simone. Simone was laughing at something he said.
Miss Lillian had cornered Gracie’s father, and had a pencil and note pad, taking down the Mercier family tree.
“All of the work was worthwhile,” Emma said.
“Yep, you’re right,” John Cole said.
Just at dusk, when the Chinese lanterns were turned on, Emma was surprised to hear John Cole call for everyone’s attention.
“I have a special present for my wife,” he said.
The next instant, Johnny and two of his friends came pushing a car into the backyard. It was covered in a green tarp.
Pulling Emma by the hand, John Cole went over and whipped off the tarp, revealing a long, gleaming white vintage 1957 Cadillac convertible.
Emma was shocked. She could not believe that John Cole would bring himself to buy something so impractical and expensive.
He grinned at her.
There was more. John Cole had made plans for a romantic road trip to California.
Belinda and Gracie had packed Emma’s bags, and they were already in the trunk. Johnny and Gracie would stay and clean up from the party, and take care of the house. Everything that Emma could think of had been considered and taken care of.
Almost before she knew it, John Cole had shoved her into the front seat and slipped in beside her. To shouts and waves, John Cole started the car and headed down the driveway.
Quickly Emma went up on her knees and leaned over the seat to wave goodbye at everyone.
She gazed at them, Johnny and Gracie, and Belinda waving like mad, and even Sylvia waved, for heaven’s sake—all of the precious people in her life—until they were out of sight. Then she sat down and squeezed up beside John Cole, who put his arm around her.
They drove away, side by side, still together after all these years.
31
1550 AM on the Radio Dial
The Home Folks Show
“Good mornnnin’ out there, Valentine-ites! It’s ten-O-five in southern Oklahoma, and this is Brother Winston comin’ at you once again and glad to do it. Seein’ the Big Apple and bein’ on The Today Show was quite a trip, but, as little Miss Dorothy said, there is no place like home.
“Mr. Willie Lee, you and Munro get up here and say hello to the folks.”
“Hel-lo, ev-er-y-bod-y. Hi, Gab-by and Nick-y.”
“Rufff.”
“Our weather for today calls for sunny skies—what else at the end of summer?—and a high of ninety. That’s good news for Mr. Paul Mercier, who’s doin’ the mural on the side of the Valentine Voice building. He is depicting our town’s history and its present. The name of the painting is ‘Colors of Oklahoma.’
“And now let’s hear from the Silver Fox himself, Mr. Charlie Rich, singin’ my personal anthem, ‘Rollin’ With the Flow.’…”
All over Valentine, people turned up their radios. One of these was a man driving out on the turnpike. He caught what Winston said about The Today Show. He was a producer for NPR. He saw an exit sign for Valentine and took it, intrigued by hearing a radio show similar to what he had grown up with in West Texas. It was like coming home.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4804-5
CHIN UP, HONEY
Copyright © 2009 by Curtiss Ann Matlock.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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