Plantation Christmas Weddings

by Barnes, Sylvia

  Bobbi’s unvarnished statement startled Meredith, but she knew not everyone liked her books. “I’m sorry to hear that. What do you like to read?”

  “Nothing you would be interested in, I’m sure.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, but I’ve met many other authors at writers meetings, and I’d be glad to get you a signed copy of your favorite, if you like.”

  Bobbi Lee’s stony expression wavered a bit at this, but she changed the subject again. “How did you come to be Mrs. Bishop’s guest?”

  Meredith sipped her spiced tea before answering. “She invited me at her house Sunday. It seems she likes historical fiction.”

  “As do I.” Gary’s sudden appearance among all these ladies startled Meredith, though she expected him.

  Bobbi Lee’s sullen demeanor broke into a smile. “Gary. What are you doing here? You know only ladies come to these meetings.”

  “Normally, you’d be right, Bobbi Lee, but for Meredith’s sake, I’ve come. I’m taking her on a tour.”

  “Oh, let me come, too. I’ve never heard one of your tour speeches. I’m sure it will be fascinating coming from you.” Bobbi Lee possessed Gary’s arm.

  Meredith hadn’t realized how she’d anticipated another private conversation with Gary until that moment. Seeing Bobbi Lee hanging on his arm shook her newfound peace. “Perhaps I should go on and find your mother, Gary. She may be waiting for me.”

  Gary moved away from Bobbi Lee. “You’re riding home with me. Mother and I discussed it.”

  “I’ll just say good-bye to her, then.”

  Meredith found Mrs. Bishop in the hallway. “Thank you so much for inviting me. I’ve had a delightful time.”

  “You’ve been perfect, dear. I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving.”

  Gary and Bobbi Lee came from the dining room. Gary took Meredith’s arm, leaving Bobbi Lee to tag along. “Let’s start our tour in the library.” A small library featured a huge gasolier made of medieval gargoyles, flails, balls and chains, and other weaponry. “Mr. Stanton designed this room as his personal office, but they were in the house only a few months when he died.”

  Meredith took out a small notebook from her purse and scribbled notes.

  Bobbi Lee spoke up. “The other tour guides usually talk about the mirrors and furniture more.”

  “Would you like to hear more about the furniture, Meredith? I imagine you recognize some from your other research.”

  “You can point out pieces original to the house.”

  They crossed the hall to the front and back parlors. Gary pointed to the carved wooden supporting arch. “During the late 1800s, after Mrs. Stanton’s death, the house became a school, Stanton College. Sheets hung from that arch to make two classrooms out of the parlor area. My great-grandmother taught here for a year.”

  Meredith stopped writing. “Mary Galbraith from Pennsylvania?”

  “Yes. I’m surprised you remember.”

  Bobbi Lee sat down in an upholstered chair looking bored. “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the Stantons?”

  Gary looked at Meredith with a question in his smile.

  “You can tell me about both, but I’m really interested in this Yankee schoolteacher aspect. What would your mother think of my using her grandmother in a book?”

  “We can ask her Thursday.”

  Bobbi Lee sat up. “What’s happening Thursday?”

  “Thanksgiving. Let me be the first to wish you a happy one.” Gary led them across the hall to the enclosed staircase and bowed. “Ladies first.”

  “You must be getting quite chummy with the Bishops,” Bobbi Lee whispered in Meredith’s ear, “if you’re eating Thanksgiving dinner with them.”

  “Where will you spend Thanksgiving?” Meredith asked, choosing not to address Bobbi Lee’s comment.

  “Oh, I’ll probably go to my grandmother’s.”

  “You don’t sound excited.”

  “She’s been really judgmental since my divorce. She didn’t want me to marry in the first place. She should be happy now.”

  Meredith topped the stairs and entered the upstairs hallway. “Still, it’s nice to have family during holidays.” She smiled at Bobbi Lee before following Gary across to the bedrooms.

  “All this furniture is period but not original to the house. The fireplaces are all Italian marble.” Gary indicated the two four-poster beds next to the large windows overlooking oak trees.

  “What role did these rooms play when Stanton Hall became a school?”

  “Dormitory rooms. The teachers lived across the hall. I’ll show you those next.”

  Meredith recorded data as fast as she could, noting details that would help her envision scenes in a book later. She could picture Mary Galbraith in a teacher bedroom, with the matching bedspreads, drapes, and large, comfortable chairs. But part of her brain marveled at how differently she saw Bobbi Lee today. She recognized Bobbi Lee’s neediness, her bitterness at how life had turned out. She had been the same only a few days before, quick to criticize and judge because life had been tough. God’s forgiveness changed everything.

  Gary took them up the stairs leading to the third-floor game room and then to the fourth-floor observatory. “Normally these areas aren’t part of a tour, but you get special treatment today.”

  Meredith noted the game room’s large size and tiny dormer windows. “Would they have used this as a classroom?”

  “Yes. Good guess. The arts and domestic science teacher used this space.”

  Bobbi Lee led the way to the stairs that went on up to the observatory. “I’ve always wanted to see from up here.”

  They entered a small room with arched windows and a view of Natchez that took Meredith’s breath away. She had never seen her hometown in quite this way before. The winter sun had set in the west and left a glow that lit up the river far below them. The lights were coming on all over town.

  Bobbi Lee pointed to the riverbanks far down below them. “Look, the gambling boats. Do you want to try their buffet after this?” She turned to Gary, who shook his head. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t gamble. Never mind.”

  This exchange amused Meredith. Neither had asked her what she wanted because Gary correctly assumed she didn’t gamble either, and Bobbi Lee didn’t really want Meredith along.

  Gary led them back down the stairs. “What do you think, Meredith? Did you get what you wanted?”

  “Definitely. I’ll need to do more research and talk to your mother some, but I have a good start.”

  “I’m starved. Let’s at least go get something to eat. We could drop you off at your place on the way, Meredith.” Bobbi Lee paused at the bottom of the stairs.

  Gary helped Meredith down the last few steps. “Whoa, Bobbi Lee. Meredith and I already have plans for this evening. Perhaps we three could go out another time.”

  Bobbi Lee shrugged and turned to go. “In that case, I’ll see you at school, Gary.”

  Meredith watched her go. Two days before, she would have been happy to see her so taken down. Bobbi Lee had been the worst in elementary school about calling her names. Revenge was not sweet. But Bobbi Lee wouldn’t care that she’d had a change of heart about her. She turned to Gary. “What were these plans you mentioned?”

  “Don’t you want to discuss the books? I thought we could go out to a Chinese restaurant.”

  “All right, but only if you let me pay. All my costs while I’m doing research are business expense.”

  Gary shook his head. “No way. I’m still a Southern gentleman, and this is my idea.”

  Meredith respected his insistence, but she knew what teachers made.

  Gary drove them across town to the restaurant. Inside, Chinese decorations and music gave the place a definite oriental flair. “You know, we didn’t have a single restaurant like this in town ten years ago, and now we have several Chinese, Mexican, and even Japanese restaurants. Mississippi is changing.”

  Meredith ordered the cashew chicken with fried rice, b
ut when Gary ordered the pepper steak, she couldn’t help saying, “I almost ordered the pepper steak.”

  “Let’s share entrees. I like cashew chicken, too.” Gary sat quietly, studying her face. “Something’s different about you today.”

  “In what way?”

  “I’m not sure. You seem happier, more peaceful. Do you want to share?”

  Meredith explained the impact Mrs. Nutt’s letters had on her. “Even today, when I felt so intimidated, I saw everyone differently. My mother used to say we were just ‘regular folks.’ Today everyone I met looked like regular folk. Isn’t God’s power to change us amazing?”

  “Have I told you how much I admire your faith?” Gary’s gaze communicated a tenderness she couldn’t interpret, but it made her heart race.

  She forced herself to speak lightly. “You may have mentioned it.”

  Their food came then, and their talk turned to the novels. She explained how she loved the connection between Mrs. Nutt and Mary Galbraith. “I think I can write separate stories for them but tie them together in the series. If I can come up with a third story, connected in some way but in a different house, it would be perfect.”

  “I’ll have to think about that some more.” He picked up his fork. “I see you’re using chopsticks.”

  “Sure, don’t you?”

  “Never tried.”

  Meredith held out her chopsticks. “Here, I’ll show you.” She demonstrated holding the lower stick and moving the top one with her index finger and thumb. He tried to pick up some food but lost it every time. Meredith reached across the table to help. When her fingers touched his, a powerful feeling went through her that made her fumble the chopsticks. He must have felt it, too, because the chopsticks dropped, forgotten as they looked at each other.

  “Maybe you’d better stick with the fork.”

  After that, they ate quietly, but Meredith remembered that sensation long afterward.

  Chapter 6

  Thanksgiving morning dawned just cool enough that Meredith went for a run to help counteract all the calories she anticipated having later. She found herself outside the city limits, not far from her old home place. The weeds so obscured the turnoff that she almost missed it. On impulse, she went down the hill. She had been right about the trees. Pines grew, head tall, where her father’s neatly mown lawn had been. A sob escaped her tight throat as she saw where the trailer had been. Only a few bricks from the foundation still remained.

  She circled around to the back and found the garden plot, not as grown up as the lawn, but still containing weeds and trees. Then a flash of red caught her eye. Were those tomatoes? Yes, and green peppers, squash, even a small pumpkin. Volunteer plants had come up in the garden. Her mother was giving her a gift, even in death.

  Meredith remembered seeing a plastic bag by the road. She retrieved it and filled it with as much produce as she could carry.

  Gary drove up, right at eleven. He had been thinking about Bobbi Lee and the way she wanted to horn in on his time with Meredith. He had planned to invite Meredith to a basketball game the following Thursday evening at the school, but Bobbi Lee insisted that she needed to discuss the school Christmas bazaar during the game. That didn’t make much sense to him, but he agreed to get her off his back and to make up for not taking her to eat after the garden club meeting. Honestly, she acted like a spoiled brat sometimes, but he tried to accommodate her because they had been classmates, and his mother would have been appalled if he told Bobbi Lee what he really thought.

  When he knocked on the door, Meredith opened it. She had a basket of beautiful garden produce, all washed and polished. It looked like an improvised horn of plenty, a perfect hostess gift. “Wow, you must have hit up a produce stand.”

  “No, actually, I found this in my mother’s garden.”

  “Really?” He took the basket and helped her out to the car. After she told her story, Gary’s heart hurt for her. “That must have been emotionally wrenching.”

  “In some ways, but also strangely comforting. It’s hard to explain.”

  As they got close to the house, Gary warned her. “My niece, Mary Elizabeth, and nephew, Samuel, are five and three. They’re cute, but things get a little crazy when they’re around.” For the first time, Gary wondered if Meredith liked children.

  In the entryway to the house, Gary made introductions. “This is my sister, Rebecca, and her husband, Jim. And these are Mary Elizabeth and Samuel.” He nodded at her. “My friend, Meredith Long.”

  “So happy to meet you all.” Then Meredith knelt down on the children’s level. “Happy Thanksgiving. Are you having a good time at your grandparents’?”

  Mary Elizabeth nodded. “You should see the huge turkey Grandma is making.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Samuel pulled her hand. “Come see.”

  As Gary watched, Meredith made her way with the children to the living room and soon was stacking blocks. Gary sat down near Jim. “Well, I guess we’ll watch the game this afternoon.”

  “Yes, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without football.”

  Gary listened to Jim with only half his attention. He couldn’t get over how quickly Meredith took to the children. When his niece begged Meredith to read her a book, he intervened. “Mary Elizabeth, let Miss Long alone.”

  “Now, Gary,” said Meredith, “nothing’s more important than teaching children to like books.”

  “She’s training the next generation of fans,” Gary said, and laughed with Jim. Meredith glanced up and caught his quick wink. He loved seeing her cheeks turn red as she ducked her head and kept reading The Animals of Farmer Jones to the children.

  The smells coming from the kitchen made Gary’s mouth water. “There’s nothing like turkey roasting to wake up an appetite.”

  Jim nodded. “I wonder if my wife needs help in the kitchen.”

  “You can help the children wash their hands”—Rebecca poked her head in, smiling, a large platter of rolls in her hands—“and get settled at the table.”

  “Will do.”

  With the children and Jim gone, Gary had Meredith to himself for a moment. “Here, let me help you up.”

  “I’ll just put these blocks back in their container.”

  He bent toward her, breathing in her perfume, and pulled her up, wanting to pull her on into his arms.

  “Dinner’s ready.” His mother called from the dining room.

  Reluctantly, he released her hands and followed her in just as his dad emerged from the kitchen with the golden turkey, which he set among the dishes of mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potato casserole, green beans, cranberry sauce, broccoli salad, and fresh sliced garden tomatoes. Mother had not forgotten to put out Meredith’s offering.

  Meredith murmured, “I’m glad I got some exercise this morning.”

  After they were seated, his dad said, “Meredith, please join us in our family’s tradition. We all tell something we’re thankful for before the blessing.” He smiled warmly. “I’ll go first. This Thanksgiving Day, and every day, I’m thankful for God’s salvation through Jesus Christ.”

  “Amen,” several voices around the table said.

  “I’m thankful for a beautiful wife,” Jim said, “and two wonderful children.”

  “He means us, Samuel.” Everyone laughed at Mary Elizabeth’s comment.

  Meredith’s turn had come, and she choked a little. “I’m so grateful to be included in your family celebration. It’s the first time since…”

  Gary reached for her hand under the table—“I’m thankful to have my good friend Meredith back in my life.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back, thrilling him to his core.

  After the blessing, the food made the rounds while everyone chattered and laughed at the funny things the children said or did. Meredith seemed a part of the family. Gary couldn’t stop smiling.

  Samuel’s head drooped, so his mother scooped him up and took him and a protesting Mary Elizabeth off for afternoon
naps. The dinner conversation became much quieter and more adult after that.

  Gary’s mother poured coffee to go with the pumpkin and pecan pie making the rounds. “Meredith, how are the novels coming?”

  “I wanted to ask you something concerning that. You know my idea to do one about Mrs. Nutt? Well, what would you think of my doing one about your grandmother, Mary Galbraith Martin?”

  “I think that sounds wonderful. I can tell you so many stories about my grandmother. She loved to tell me about her life when she lived with us. What time period?”

  “The 1890s.”

  Rebecca had returned from settling the children. “You should go see the photography exhibit at the Presbyterian church. They have some fascinating pictures from exactly that period.”

  “I’ll try to go by there tomorrow. The ideas are starting to come together. I just need something for the third novel. Perhaps I can go to some pilgrimage houses for Christmas open house to get an idea. It would be nice if it connected somehow with the other two.”

  “Speaking of tomorrow, I was hoping you’d go with me to the Christmas tree lighting downtown,” Gary said. “There’ll be carols and businesses open. We could pick up a hamburger afterward.”

  “I may not be hungry before then.” Gary liked the sound of Meredith’s laughter. “I’d like that. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up around five thirty.”

  “Harrumph.” His dad cleared his throat. “It’s my duty to remind you men of another Thanksgiving tradition—doing the dishes.”

  “Please, let me help. I didn’t cook.” Meredith rose to her feet.

  Dad caved much quicker than Gary thought he would. “You and Gary do the washing and drying. Jim and I will clear the table and put the food away.”

  Gary found himself drying the dishes Meredith handed him after she washed them. “I want to go on record as saying this wasn’t my idea.”

  “Many hands make light work. My mother’s motto.”

  “Especially when she wanted you to do chores.”

  “Exactly.” She lifted a stack of china plates and sunk them in the hot, soapy water. “This is a lovely, big kitchen and very modern for an older home.”