“I know. Thank you.”
My mother came in next. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late.” She sat on the bed, and I pulled the Bishop book from my nightstand, turning to the fish poem. She took it from my hands, scooting back on the bed. I rested my head in her lap, and she began reading. By the time she got to the end where “everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go,” I was asleep.
Jacob and I got married on Saturday, June 19. We’d known each other for all of ten weeks. Our ceremony was small. My parents and the Babineauxs were in attendance. The chapel’s corridor was lined with matted portraits of priests and bishops, some of whom I recognized.
Father led me to Jacob, who squeezed my hand reassuringly. His dark eyes were glossy, and there was the most beautiful violet light pouring through the stained glass window. I felt a lump in my throat. I was nervous. I hadn’t put my trust in another person in a very long time. Then I saw a few honeybees zipping in the light. No one else noticed them. I wiggled my fingers in Jacob’s strong hands, feeling that Sheff was there with us. Maybe he’d come with the bees. Come from the other side, as Madame Zelda had said.
The young priest spoke the chosen liturgy. He was a pimply fellow I didn’t know. Father O’Connell had adamantly refused to marry me to a non-Catholic. We had no Mass because our union was not a holy sacrament or ecclesiastical union. The diocese had granted us permission to wed only after I agreed to raise my children as Catholic. The church was important to my parents.
Standing there, waiting for the ceremony to be over, I felt lopsided, like my left shoe was too big, like my left leg and left foot had suddenly shrunk. I heard one of the bees buzzing in my ear. Then it felt like my foot and the shoe were gone. I was off balance, dizzy. Then I was falling. Jacob’s hands were under my arms. The bee stung behind my ear. My knees brushed the carpet.
As Jacob lifted me up, my mother said, “Are you all right?” The priest, my father, and Gwen asked the same thing. Jacob said, “I’ll always catch you.” I felt an electric vibration shoot down my neck, the bee sting. My skin was vibrating. I said, “I do,” before the priest asked the question. I said it again at the right time. As we stepped down from the dais, I saw the honeybee dead by my foot.
Jacob said, “We did it!”
Outside, his truck was decorated with shaving cream. Oscar was in the truck bed, barking and wagging his tail. There was a cardboard sign tied above the license plate. Just Married.
We were driving to Jacob’s hometown, to Greeley, North Carolina, so I could meet and celebrate with my in-laws. “Just you wait,” he told me. “You’re going to love Greeley.” We planned to live as purists, or he had plans that we would live as purists, and I’d agreed. Sitting in the truck, my satin gown bunched between my legs, I waved to my family. I still felt the sting from the bee.
“We love you,” my mother shouted. Gwen threw rice. Then, we were on our way. I was quiet, pensive, understanding that this was a big step, that I was maybe trying to be someone I wasn’t, but I had chosen to be happy. I’d made a choice. As we merged onto the interstate, Oscar settled in the truck bed. “Will he be all right back there?” I asked.
“He’s fine. We’ve traveled a lot.”
This is how people live. I’m doing it.
Eighty miles south of Maryville, the radio station fading and crackling with static, the car full of cigarette smoke, I fell asleep, dreaming bees. I was running through the pines behind my parents’ house, and when I got to the creek, the bees enveloped me. I was a vibrating mass of yellow and black noise. I woke in a cold sweat.
Jacob said, “Are you all right?”
I thought of Sheff and his nightmares. “I’m fine.”
As the hours passed, I felt uncomfortable in my dress. I kept sliding across the seat. Jacob said, “I’m excited for you to meet Big Mama.”
“Who?”
“My mama. We call her Big Mama.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. And your father and your siblings. It’s exciting. I’m an only child.”
“Not them.”
“What do you mean?”
“My daddy’s worthless. You don’t want to meet him.”
“He’ll be at the party.”
“He and Big Mama are divorced, and Meredith is in New York, and Clarence and I don’t speak.” Jacob pushed the lighter in and turned the radio dial. “Clarence is in Africa doing missionary work.”
“If your sister’s in New York, we should’ve gone to see her.”
“She doesn’t want to see me. We had a falling-out. I don’t have any use for her.”
“You didn’t say that your parents were divorced.” I took the truck lighter after Jacob and lit a cigarette.
“I didn’t? I meant to.”
I said no more. When we stopped for gas, the fumes made me feel nauseous. Jacob returned from the station with a package of Hostess Cupcakes. “For the bride and groom.” I wasn’t hungry, but I took a cupcake.
“I don’t feel so good,” I told him.
“It’s probably the heat. We’re going to stop in Raleigh and get a good night’s sleep before the party tomorrow.”
I ate a sliver of icing. It was like eating chocolate-flavored wax. I set the cupcake by my feet and heard Oscar pawing the truck bed. I turned to see him licking the glass. Jacob said, “He really likes you.”
“I like him too.”
It was after ten o’clock when we stopped at a Motel 6 off I-95 just north of Raleigh. My back and thighs sweating in the slick gown, I was desperate to undress and shower. After getting the key, he said, “We’re going to do this right.”
“What right?”
“I’m going to carry you over the threshold. We don’t want bad luck. But first, let me get Oscar a bowl of water.” Jacob took the dog into the motel room and came back for me. He put one arm behind my back and the other under my knees, slick with sweat, and hoisted me up. “I like holding you in my arms.”
I smiled as he carried me into the room. It was nice enough, better than Mary and Harry’s in Seaside Heights. There was a queen-size bed, two nightstands, two lamps, and one dresser with a small television set on top. Oscar was lying on the foot of the bed. Jacob turned on the TV, kicking off his shoes, while I took a shower. When I came out, he was watching Marcus Welby, M.D. “It’s not very romantic, is it?”
“It’s fine. I’m so tired.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Actually, I still feel sick. I guess it was the drive.”
I got into bed while Jacob went to shower. The TV made the room glow. In no time, I was asleep, only to be awakened by him sliding my nightgown up my legs. He said, “It’s bad luck if you don’t consummate the marriage on the wedding night.” This was my honeymoon night, and I felt nothing but exhausted. He kissed me. Then, he was on top of me. And then he was inside me. “You’re so tight,” he said. “I love it.”
21
THE NEXT MORNING, I TOOK another shower and put on a yellow sundress for our party in Greeley. We drove ninety miles east on Route 264 through Saratoga, Belle Arthur, House, and Washington City. Except for Washington City, the towns were small and squat, with little markets where old men, black and white, congregated beneath rusted awnings. I watched the men mop their brows with handkerchiefs. When we drove into Greeley, the sign said, Welcome to Greely, population 900, and just under it in smaller print, Greeley, founded in 1802. Just as Jacob had described, the spelling was inconsistent. It was so hot, the pavement gave the illusion of being wet.
Jacob said, “The party’s at the fire station.” When we pulled into the parking lot, it was nearly full. There were two fire trucks and a few dozen old cars. The party was scheduled for noon. We were fifteen minutes late.
Jacob held the door open for me. Then, he called for Oscar, and the dog jumped from the back of the truck. I tugged to unstick the sundress from my back. I knew that my hair was a mess; the humidity made it unruly. Jacob said, “You look pretty.” I didn
’t feel pretty. Oscar walked at Jacob’s side. The building was a brick one-story.
Inside, there was a short hallway and another door. I said, “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. Big Mama’s going to love you.” When Jacob opened the second door, a big cheer went up. People shouted, “Congratulations!” and “Welcome home!” They clapped and hooted. Big Mama was the first one to greet us. She was really big, her face heavy. She had white, straw-like hair that stopped at her shoulders. Jacob said, “This is Big Mama.” I extended my hand, but she pulled me in close, holding on. Then, when she let go, she squeezed my hand. “I’m delighted to meet you.”
“Same here.”
“I didn’t even know Jacob was getting hitched until last week.”
“It all happened really fast.”
“Isn’t she pretty?” Jacob said.
“As a picture.”
Then, Big Mama stepped aside so that I could meet everyone who’d come to celebrate our wedding. Person after person introduced themselves. I wouldn’t remember any of their names, but everyone seemed friendly. After a while, Big Mama said, “Give the girl some room,” and led me to a round table in the center of the fire station. All the other tables were rectangular or square, but each table had a vase of black-eyed Susans as a centerpiece. I said, “I love the flowers.”
She said, “They’re from my garden. I picked and arranged them myself.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Big Mama saw me looking for Jacob.
“He’s over there with his daddy.” She pointed, and I saw Jacob on the far side of the room, talking with a waif of a humpbacked man. The old man was stuffing a whole deviled egg into his mouth. Dollops of whipped mayonnaise clung to his unkempt whiskers.
Big Mama said, “That’s my ex-husband, Buddy. I didn’t invite him to the party because he’s known to make a scene, but of course he came anyway, so I’ve got my eye on him. I’m not going to let him ruin this day for y’all.”
“Should I go over there?”
“If I were you, I’d avoid Buddy. Knowing him, he’ll make a pass at you, and then he and Jacob will have one more reason to fight, and that’s the last thing either one of them needs. They both got tempers.”
A few young women came over to our table. One of them, a very tall and bony redhead, her elbows and knees more bulbous than her limbs, introduced herself as Poppy. “I’m Jacob’s cousin. My mother, Scarlet, was Big Mama’s sister, but then she got the pneumonia when I was just a baby, and she died. I was raised up in the same house as JJ and them.”
“JJ?”
“That’s what folks call Jacob.”
I said, “It doesn’t sound like Jacob and his siblings get along.”
Poppy said, “That’s an understatement. Clarence is born again in Christ’s blood, and he thinks Jacob is going straight to hell because he claims to be an atheist and some other stuff.”
“That’s awful,” I said. “And Clarence is in Africa, right?”
“Converting savages,” Poppy said, “by bribing them with food. If you believe in Jesus, you can have some bread … If you don’t, no bread for you … That sort of thing. Doesn’t seem especially Christian.” She snorted.
“What does Meredith do?” I asked.
“She works in Manhattan, an assistant to some broker.”
“I only just found out that she lived in New York.”
“Yeah, she and JJ don’t speak hardly either.”
Then, Big Mama chimed in. “It breaks my heart. They don’t understand that they’re going to need each other one day.”
I said, “I’m an only child.”
“That’s what Jacob said. Must’ve been lonely growing up,” Big Mama said.
“Sometimes.”
Then, a young woman with thick brown hair and big green eyes introduced herself. “Hi. I’m Betty.” She had a curvy figure. The juxtaposition of her lime-green eyes and brown hair was striking. “I went to high school with JJ.” She extended her hand, and I didn’t want to let go. I had just gotten married, and I felt physically attracted to this woman. I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. It didn’t matter. I’d chosen what I wanted. I wanted to be married and have children.
Big Mama said, “Betty made most of the food here.”
“Thank you for doing that,” I said.
“It’s the least I could do. I love Big Mama. She’s like a mother to me.”
Big Mama smiled. “Betty owns a restaurant and bakery three doors down.”
“It’s a living.”
Big Mama said, “She’s the best cook in town. And modest.”
Betty said, “Can I make you a plate?”
“What?” I caught myself staring at her lips. “Sure.” I watched her walk to the buffet table in black Nancy Sinatra boots and a green miniskirt, the same green as her eyes. Her blouse was white with flowy yellow-and-lime flower-print sleeves.
I glanced over to see Jacob shaking hands with various men. In ratty T-shirts and faded jeans, they looked like hoodlums. Betty came back to the table with a plate: a ham biscuit, macaroni and cheese, and a slice of chocolate cake. Immediately, I went for the cake. It was like I was craving it. “This is incredible,” I said, licking my fingers.
“Thank you.” She sat beside me. “Do you know that you’ve moved to a town where there are only twenty people, give or take one or two, over the age of twelve and under the age of sixty?”
“I didn’t. I only knew it was small.”
“Crazy small! Where are y’all planning to live?”
“Somewhere nearby, I think. We just got married yesterday.”
“There’s not a lot in the way of jobs around here. Most people have moved away to be closer to the city.”
“Jacob has some ideas. He bought a house. I just don’t know where. I haven’t seen it.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it because you’re clearly older than twelve and younger than sixty.”
I laughed.
Big Mama said, “Jacob bought the Priddy house on Priddy Lane. He wired money, and I went to the Western Union, then to the bank. Early Bird helped me.”
Betty said, “I know that house.”
“I should probably know where I’ll be living.”
“Oh, you’re fine,” Betty said. “If you married JJ, you must like living by the seat of your pants.”
“Not exactly.”
Jacob joined us. Poppy said, “JJ, it’s nice to see you.”
“Call me Jacob.”
“We always call you JJ,” Poppy said.
“I’m grown up now.”
Poppy said, “Did you see Darlene?”
Jacob said, “She better not be here.”
I said, “Who’s Darlene?”
Poppy mimed like she was locking her mouth and throwing the key away.
Jacob said, “She’s nobody.”
I said, “I’m going to use the restroom.”
There was only one. While I waited, two men got in line behind me. I heard one of them say, “He told Darlene that he was going to bring back a Yankee bride, and damn if he didn’t do it.”
The other said, “Do you think he knew that Darlene would show up?”
“Of course he knew.”
“Those two are a mess.”
I was officially curious about Darlene. Just before it was my turn at the bathroom, I turned to the two men. They were probably in their early thirties. I said, “We haven’t met. I’m Gloria Ricci Blount, the Yankee bride.”
The men fumbled, managing, “It’s nice to meet you,” but were otherwise speechless.
When I returned to the table, there was a young woman in cutoff jean shorts and a revealing crocheted top, her midriff exposed, standing beside Poppy. She had dark, stringy hair splayed over her shoulders. She wore heavy makeup and popped her gum—something I’d never do. Poppy said, “Gloria, this is Darlene Hemmy.”
“Hello.” I pretended that I hadn’t heard one thing about her.
�
�Hey.”
Big Mama said, “Darlene, this is Jacob’s wife, Gloria.”
Then, Jacob came up to the table, grabbing Darlene’s elbow. “What are you doing here?”
Darlene said, “I’m just trying to meet your bride. Get off me.”
Jacob said, “Please excuse me,” and pulled Darlene toward a corner of the fire station hall.
I said, “Was she his girlfriend?”
Betty sipped her wine, pink lipstick on the glass, before answering. “Yup.”
When Darlene and Jacob returned, Darlene said, “Good luck to you.” She had a heavy southern drawl. Then she walked away.
“Who is she?” I asked Jacob.
“She’s nobody.”
Then, Buddy, Jacob’s father, came over. “I want to get some sugar from my new daughter-in-law.”
Big Mama said, “Go away. Nobody wants you here, and stop eating my food. I paid for it.”
Betty looked at me and smiled, as if to say, What have you gotten yourself into? while Buddy grabbed onto me. “You smell good,” he said.
“Thanks.” Backing up, I put my hand on Jacob’s arm. “Can we talk in private?”
“Sure.”
We walked toward the buffet table. As he grabbed a chicken leg, I said, “I overheard two men talking, and they said that you said that you were going to bring home a Yankee bride.”
He shook his head. There was fried chicken grease on his chin. “Do you hear yourself, Gloria? They said that I said that I was going to do whatever … It’s small-town gossip. I should’ve warned you. It’s out of control. You can’t get caught up in it. Poppy is the absolute worst too. She works at the post office, so she knows everybody’s business.”
“But they were talking about Darlene.”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend, my very ex-girlfriend, and she wasn’t invited. Big Mama didn’t invite my daddy either, but he showed up.”
“Can we please leave now? I’m ready to go.”
“Don’t let them ruin everything. The party’s just getting started.”
Lost in the Beehive Page 11
