She made a sour face. “It’s too fine a day for anything to go wrong. You stick to your domino challenge, and I’ll handle Mother. Trust me.”
“Always,” he said.
When they arrived at the Huckabees’ in the middle of the afternoon, Huck immediately introduced Gabe as her husband, explaining that he worked for Gulf Oil.
“Well I’ll be,” said Ethan. “An oil man in the family.”
Gabe shook Ethan’s hand and grinned. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to know you.”
“Likewise,” Ethan said.
“You too, ma’am.” Gabe smiled at Annise. “I’ve so looked forward to meeting my fine new kinfolk.”
Annise stared blankly at Huck. “I had a feeling you’d married.”
Huck’s mouth dropped.
“You’ve had a mind of your own since birth. But that’s no excuse for not letting your mother know beforehand.”
For the next few seconds, the raspy buzz of cicadas intensified an awkward silence.
Huck felt beads of perspiration pop across her forehead. Her plan of introducing Gabe as an oilman had failed. “I’m sorry, Mother,” Huck said finally.
“We wanted to surprise you,” Gabe added.
“Reckon it worked,” said Ethan.
Annise stepped toward Huck and hugged her. “After thirteen children, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected, especially from my most headstrong child.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?” Cutter asked Gabe.
Huck shot her brother a playful sneer.
“Positive.” Gabe shook Cutter’s hand. “But what I’d really like to get into is a lively domino game. Huck assures me I’ve come to the right place.”
“Set up the table, son,” Ethan said. “Let’s welcome this boy into the family.”
Huck embraced her mother as the men headed toward the veranda.
“Why don’t we serve cobbler and lemonade?” Annise suggested awhile later. “The peaches this year have never been sweeter.”
It was a warm afternoon, so Huck sat beside her mother on the wide front porch, each in a comfortable rocker. On the opposite end, Cutter had set up a card table, and the game was in full swing. The rattle and shake of the bones was a comforting sound, as well as Ethan’s triumphant “Skunked ya.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t turn it down,” Huck said. It meant being alone with her mother in the kitchen, the prime location for their private talk. But so far, their conversation had been nothing more than catching up on various neighbors and family members.
“Would you men like some refreshment?” Huck called as she followed her mother inside.
“That and several pairs of socks,” Gabe answered. “Mine keep getting beat off me.”
“And I might as well be shirtless.” Cutter laughed. “Good thing Papa wears a different size.”
Ethan slapped a domino on the table. “Fifteen,” he said.
The women donned aprons, then washed their hands in a basin of water atop a dry sink. Huck glanced out the kitchen window. “Looks like you’ve had some decent rain.” Her mother’s garden was as beautiful as ever.
“We’ve been blessed,” Annise said, digging lemons out of the icebox. “These were on sale at the market and need to be used.” She placed them on an enamel-top worktable.
“I miss a garden,” Huck said. “One day, Gabe and I will have one just as grand.”
“You didn’t miss it when I made you pick green beans.”
“And my back still hurts,” Huck said. She grabbed a knife and began cutting lemons. “How did you ever put up with me?”
“By the time you came along, Papa and I were worn out. That’s why you’re spoiled.” She raised her eyebrows.
“And not Cutter?”
“Remember, he’s six minutes older, so we had more energy.”
They laughed. Annise removed five bowls from the cupboard and set them on the long kitchen table.
“Gabe was an only child. I think I said that in my letter.”
Annise opened a pie safe and retrieved the cobbler.
Silence.
Huck cut a lemon. “Mother? Did you hear me?”
“I did.”
“So …?”
“It was a long letter.” She set the cobbler next to the bowls and began filling them.
“I had much to say.” Huck paused. “I thought you liked a good newsy letter.”
Annise cleared her throat twice.
Huck felt her stomach drop. It was a clear signal of what was coming next.
“Speaking of news, I ran into Florence Richards a few Sundays ago,” Annise said.
“That’s a coincidence. You’ve only attended the same church for over forty years.”
“Don’t get sassy, Huck.” Annise cleared her throat again.
“If you’re wanting to discuss Gabe’s and my Christian denomination,” Huck said calmly, “we’re Episcopalian.”
“Do you think that’s why I wanted to speak face to face?”
“Isn’t it?” Huck felt lightheaded.
“I’ve made my wishes very plain on that subject, have I not?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And my grown children have the right to agree or disagree, as well as their spouses, do they not?”
Huck nodded.
“And even if we’re members of different denominations, we’re all believers in Christ?”
“Of course.” Huck’s knees weakened, so she sat on a nearby stool.
“Then that’s all settled. Now, back to what I was saying.”
Trying to regain her composure, Huck stood. What had they been talking about?
“Florence Richards is as shocked as I about you and Clark. Whatever happened?”
“I outgrew him I guess.”
“That’s not what I’m referring to.”
“Then what, Mother?”
“The altercation between Clark and Mr. Alexander at the boardinghouse”
“Please call him Gabe.” Huck cut another lemon. “Why ask me to explain what you obviously already know?”
“I want to hear your side of it.”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course, child.” Annise motioned to a nearby chair. “Come sit.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather stand.”
“Then I’ll sit. Have you married a violent man?”
“What?” Huck nearly sliced off her finger.
“Is that a yes?”
“No!”
“Of course Clark asked Florence not to tell anyone but me because he didn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
“My reputation?” Huck realized she’d raised her voice but didn’t care. “Clark’s the one who should worry about a soiled reputation.”
“And since when does one of my daughters, engaged no less, think it proper to stay out all night with another man?”
“The other man is my husband!” Huck yelled. “And Florence, of all people, shouldn’t spread false rumors.”
“Lower your voice,” Annise said sternly. “We don’t talk that way in this house. You may be an adult, but I’ll not have you speak in such a disrespectful tone.”
Huck walked to the dry sink and stared out the window.
“Come sit,” Annise said. “Please.”
Huck wiped her hands and sat across from Annise. “Clark started it.” A tear seeped out of one eye. “If you must know, he practically tried to kill Gabe.”
“Don’t be maudlin, dear. Clark would never behave in such a manner. Perhaps you don’t remember.”
“Not remember?” Huck felt her voice tremble. “I think I’d remember when a man I’ve known my entire life, and thought I trusted, pulled a knife.”
“You were drunk,” Annise said.
“What?” Standing, Huck removed her apron.
“Calm yourself, daughter.”
“No, Mother. And I wasn’t drunk. And here’s the sober truth whether you want to hear it or not: Clark intended to hurt
me as well. If not for Gabe, he would have.”
Annise stood. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged. I only wanted the best for you.”
“And you think the best is Clark Richards? Mother, he would’ve been the worst. I never want to see him again.”
Huck walked back outside. The game had stopped and the younger men sat smoking, while Ethan enjoyed a plug of chewing tobacco.
“I was expecting peach cobbler,” Cutter said.
“Or at least some socks,” Gabe added. He looked at Huck. “What’s the matter?”
“We’re leaving,” Huck said.
“Where’s Mother?” Cutter asked.
“Spooning up cobbler, I guess.” Huck placed her hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “You know I have those teaching duties to complete before Monday. Remember?”
Gabe nodded dumbly.
“But y’all just got here.” Cutter scratched his head. “Did you and Mother have an argument?”
“Stay clear,” said Ethan. “A man who tries to stop a wildcat fight will get clawed for his noble intentions.”
“I love you, Papa, but I resent the negative gender implication,” Huck said.
Ethan grinned. “You boys see what I mean?”
As Gabe started the car, Huck watched her mother step out onto the veranda. She offered a small wave and Huck returned in kind.
“I don’t get it,” Gabe said after they’d been driving several miles. “You two obviously had words, and—”
“And we still love each other,” Huck said. “Very much.”
They motored along in silence. “Do you want to talk about it, my wise wife?”
Huck scowled. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Of course not. Was it the church?”
“No, not really.”
“Then what?”
Huck didn’t answer.
“Was it … Clark?”
“Oh, Gabe, let’s not discuss it.”
She reached for his arm, feeling it stiffen.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“Mother heard some false rumors, that’s all. But I set her straight.”
“She still looked crooked to me.”
Huck let go of his arm. “Is everything a joke to you?”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said. “Please.” He took her hand in his.
She continued. “I assured her—quite dramatically—that you were the man for me.”
“I appreciate that.”
Gabe released her hand, then reached his arm around her and she snuggled close.
“Here’s what I think,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t remember meeting two men I’m prouder to know than your father and twin brother.”
“I knew you’d get along. It’s obvious they like you too.”
“So what about your mother?” Gabe asked.
“She tried to apologize, but I was too angry to let her. Now I feel horrible.” Huck thought a moment. “I think I’ll write her another letter. It’s the right thing to do. And I’m off after Monday.”
“I agree,” Gabe said. “So … you think she’ll ever accept me into the Huckabee clan?”
“I suspect that the next time we visit she’ll be your most ardent admirer.”
“Good.” Gabe released a long breath. “Wait a minute. I thought you were my—”
Huck reached up and pinched his lips. “Ardent lover, dear. And since we’re concerned about proper word usage, passionate is the best adjective for us.”
“I agree, Mrs. English Teacher,” Gabe said. “You are a wise wife.”
A house of wood and stone
Will never be a proper home
Till faith
Fills every room
With love.
For more than hearth and kettle warm
Our grateful hearts;
An orchid blooms!
This gift
Comes from above.
June 1926
Houston, Texas
An entire week had passed since the trip to Huntsville, and Huck sat at the garage apartment’s little kitchen table, brooding. School was out until September, Gabe had left for work an hour ago, and she’d finished the morning chores.
Standing, Huck stretched her arms. They were sore from carrying boxes home from her classroom, even though Gabe had toted the heaviest ones. Sidney Lanier was getting a summer facelift, so she’d had to remove all her teaching materials.
After pouring herself more coffee, Huck grabbed a pencil and a box of stationery, then plopped back into her chair. The plan of introducing Gabe as an oil man had not veered Annise away from her uncomfortable “face-to-face.” And now, she must write her mother an apology. It couldn’t be put off any longer.
Huck sipped her coffee and sighed. Procrastination had put her in a frightful mood, which wasn’t fair to Gabe. Honestly though, there hadn’t been time to write. Monday she was still at school. On Tuesday and Wednesday she’d organized, then filed everything she’d brought home. And yesterday she’d washed clothes and shopped for groceries. Her man deserved clean shirts and a hot supper, didn’t he?
She sharpened her pencil, then scolded herself for her listlessness. Gabe had tried to be encouraging, and she’d snapped at him more than once. And today was Friday, which meant another postcard would arrive with the mail. On top of that, after Gabe got off work, they had plans to go house hunting. She should be ecstatic.
“Perhaps I’ll address the envelope first,” Huck said aloud. After picking up an envelope, she wrote the ever familiar address, then licked and applied a stamp. I’d better sharpen my pencil again, Huck thought. She started to stand but, instead, lifted the topmost stationery piece and began.
Mother,
Please forgive my disrespectful attitude last Saturday afternoon. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. You wanted to make amends, and I refused to listen. It’s clear you only want the best for your children, and I know that. But please understand: Clark is not “best” anymore. At one time I thought he was God’s choice and we were meant to be together. But as you say, “People change; Truth remains.” Gabe Alexander is a man of God, and truth.
And, Mama, he’s my soul mate. Once you get to know him, you won’t be disappointed.
Dearest love,
Huck
The Market Square clock chimed two o’clock. Just as Gabe was leaving Cecil’s, Charlie drove up in his delivery truck.
“How about a smoke?” Charlie hollered.
“Can’t,” Gabe yelled back. “Got plans.”
“With the missus, I’ll bet.” Charlie shook his head. “It’s always with the missus.”
Gabe grinned and climbed into Blue Norther. He had plans, all right.
Waving at Charlie, he cranked the engine and sped onto Main. It was already a fine Friday. He’d ordered a word rhyming book, which had arrived at his office earlier in the week. It made writing poems so much easier. If he’d known how challenging it would be to compose an original verse each week, he might have come up with an alternate plan. But now that he had his rhymer … why that flung open the poetic door of endless possibilities.
He felt like E. E. Cummings.
The traffic up ahead slowed, so Gabe turned and motored down a side street, then pressed on the gas. He’d planned to take Huck house hunting, but he’d spied a chic women’s apparel shop not far from the Rice Institute. In the window was a pair of those new duck pants he’d seen advertised in the newspaper. He’d always dreamed of buying his wife stylish outfits, and today seemed as good a day as any, especially after Huck’s talk with Annise. Few men he knew had any interest in their wives’ wardrobes, and no clue about size and style. They just weren’t using their brains. All a man had to do was study the ads. In Gabe’s opinion, it would be another connecting thread to deterring The Long Division. And there was nothing more satisfying than seeing Huck’s pleased expression.
When Gabe arrived at the garage apartment a little after two, Huck was sitting on the steps, h
umming.
“Well, well,” he said, still seated behind the wheel. “I see a letter clipped to the mailbox for the postman to pick up. Is that why you’re so happy?”
“I feel much better.” She stood and twirled, causing her dress to slightly billow.
“Would you do that again?”
She smiled. “Absolutely not.”
Before he could think about opening her door, she was already seated next to him. “Writing Mother an apology wasn’t hard once I started.”
Gabe backed out of the driveway and grinned.
“Looks like you’ve had a good day too,” she said.
“Yep.” He sped toward the Rice Institute.
“I thought we were going house hunting.”
“Thought we’d start over by Rice. There’s a classy new housing addition out that way called Boulevard Oaks.”
“Fine by me,” Huck replied. “Isn’t that where they’ve planted trees along the roadway?”
“One day the branches will canopy the streets,” Gabe said.
They traveled along a wide boulevard until Gabe slowed and stopped in front of a series of shops. “I think my leg hurts,” he said.
“Which one?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe both.”
Huck looked around, knowing Gabe was up to something. “What have you done, Mr. Alexander?”
“Guess I pulled a muscle at work this morning.”
“Keeping the books? Smells fishy to me,” Huck said.
“Mind if we walk a minute?”
They stepped onto the sidewalk and passed a few storefronts. Suddenly, Huck stopped walking and pointed to a headless female mannequin. “Gabe, look.”
“What happened to her head?”
“Not that, silly. She’s dressed in trousers.”
“Why I’ve never …” He bugged out both eyes. “And without a head, she won’t have to worry about a matching hat.”
Huck laughed. “Trousers for women are the daring new rage.”
“Maybe for city gals. Ranch wives have been wearing their husbands’ britches for years. Can you imagine riding horseback and working cattle all day in a dress?”
“True. But these trousers are designed to fit. Some of the teachers at school were whispering about them. They’re called ‘duck pants.’ ”
“Do they make women waddle?”
Forever Friday Page 13
