Stardust: A Novel

by Carla Stewart

  “Wish I could help you, since you’re a veteran and all, but cash is not something I’m swimming in right now, either. I’m sorry. Maybe you could try something in town.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thought it was worth a shot.”

  He turned to go, put the straw hat atop his head, and signaled for the dog to follow. There was something intriguing in his demeanor, the way he stood tall but not cocky. Polite but not pretentious. And if the heat hadn’t tampered with my judgment, I’d seen sincerity in his pale blue eyes.

  He’d gone a few paces, his hand riding easily on the dog’s head, his stride long but not defeated. This was the sort of situation Aunt Cora cautioned me about. Strangers who appeared out of nowhere, insinuating themselves on me. And the girls. It was generous of her to care, but this fellow seemed genuine. Humble.

  I stepped off the porch. “Oh, say, mister. I have a question. If they didn’t teach you mechanics in the army, then what did they teach you?”

  He turned, removing the hat. “Things I probably shouldn’t mention in front of your girl, ma’am. I spent the last year of my hitch in Korea. ’Fore the service, though, I took my plumber’s license and did carpenter work.”

  “What do you know about roofing?”

  A lopsided grin graced his face. “I reckon I’ve hammered on near a hundred of ’em in my life. Working for my pappy over in Macon.”

  “Macon?”

  “Georgia, ma’am.”

  The way the syllables of my name rolled off his tongue like they’d been laced with molasses sent a hiccup through me, and I had to remind myself he was mentioning the state, not calling me by name.

  “Why can’t you call your pappy, as you say in Georgia to wire you the money to fix your car?”

  “Nothing I’d like more, but he’s passed. Him and my momma, too. Didn’t leave nothin’ to speak of. Just the tools I carry in the trunk of my car.”

  A man with skills and tools had my interest. “I’m sorry to hear about your folks.”

  “It’s been awhile. They were God-fearing, and I know they’re enjoying the streets of gold right now.” He was working on the straw hat, shifting his weight from one long, skinny leg to the other, probably wishing Cecil had never sent him across the highway. Avril had squatted down to eye level with the dog,

  “What’s your puppy’s name, mister? Does he bite?”

  The man smiled a slow smile—the way I supposed they did in Georgia—and held out his hand to the dog. “Never bit a soul that I know of. His name’s Sebastian.”

  The next thing I knew, Avril had her arms around the dog’s neck, getting licked across the face, all the while cooing, “Sea-bash-an. Nice doggie.”

  “Avril, maybe you can pet the dog another time. Run on in and let me talk to the man here, okay?”

  She flashed her dark eyes and stuck out her lower lip, then kissed the dog on the nose and stomped up the steps. If she was like this at three, I could only imagine her at thirteen. I turned my attention back to the stranger. The sun now bore down on us, the stickiness gathering into what promised to be a sweltering day. I brushed a damp curl away from my face. “There are a couple of problems I see with me giving you work.”

  “Yes?”

  “First off, you haven’t told me your name, and it’s a fact I don’t have much in the way of wages to offer. I can use the help, though, Mr.—”

  “Beg your pardon, ma’am. Reese.” He extended his hand again like we hadn’t already shook hello. “Peter Reese. And I can’t say as the amount you pay matters much. It’s more’n what I had before. And I’d be obliged if you would consider a place to stay as part of my pay.”

  “The place isn’t ready for guests yet, as you can see.”

  He assured me it wasn’t important, and before any warning signs in my head had time to reach my tongue, I had offered him a place in number ten. The ceiling there was still intact and it was the farthest away from the office. I asked when he could start to work.

  “The sooner the better on that roof. I’ll just go get my things. I was wondering though… seems like I ought to know who I’m working for, ma’am.”

  I laughed, but even as I did, heat crept up my neck. “I figured Cecil told you my name. I’m Georgia. Like the state.” I resisted the urge to offer my hand and added, “Georgia Peyton.”

  “Fancy that. Nice to meet you.”

  When Mr. Reese sauntered off toward Cecil’s, he popped the straw hat back on his head and held his hand on Sebastian’s head. The dog trotted obediently beside him. An involuntary smile started deep in my chest, touched my lips, and I felt my eyes crinkle until I realized Aunt Cora would have a walleyed fit. My skin broke out in a sweat. We’d only lived here two weeks, and already I’d put myself and my girls into a vulnerable position.

  On the bright side, Mr. Reese mentioned he was headed to San Antonio, so his stay would be short. I did hope the cottages sported new shingles before Cecil finished the car repairs. Still, I knew absolutely nothing about this man except that he talked slow and had nice eyes. I hollered for Avril and went into the office. As I debated with myself over getting the locks changed, Sally breezed in.

  “You up for a night out?” She had on fresh lipstick and a pressed frock I knew didn’t come from the Mercantile. More like Titche’s in Dallas. But God love her, if I mentioned it, she would slough it off like it was nothing.

  “Hello to you, too. What did you have in mind?”

  “Tonight’s the kickoff to the March of Dimes summer campaign. Didn’t your aunt Cora tell you?” The light coming in the front door bounced from her hoop earrings.

  “I heard the announcement at church. Aunt Cora went on and on with the girls, but snubbed me. She still thinks I’m putting the girls in peril by moving out here.” And will be pitching a fit to high heaven when she finds out about the roof guy.

  “She’ll get over it. She’s just steamed you didn’t move into Mara Lee with her.”

  “Which she used as an excuse for not marrying Sonny.”

  “No worries about that anymore. Sonny had a date with Twila Flynn Saturday night.”

  I blinked and tried to swallow. Instead, I blurted out, “Are you sure? That’ll be awkward. Twila’s done Aunt Cora’s hair forever.”

  “Mayhaw could use some drama, don’t you think?” When she swooshed her arm, the bracelets she wore jingled, and in the next instant, the office door did the same when Mr. Reese stuck his head in.

  “Pardon me for interrupting. Okay with you if I put these things in my room now?” His eyebrows, as pale as his hair, shot up in a questioning look. He had a guitar slung on his back, a canvas grip in his hand, and at his feet a tool case he’d set down to open the door.

  Sally did a double take, her own eyebrows arching up.

  “Sure. Mr. Reese, I’d like you to meet Sally Cotton. She and the rest of the Magnolias have made it their sacred duty to turn the landscaping of the Stardust into a showplace. Sally, this is Mr. Reese.”

  “Please call me Peter.” He extended his hand, the nearly transparent hair on his forearm scarcely concealing his rippling muscles. And, I admit, I got a good look as I was trying to avoid Sally’s eyes.

  “Nice to meet you, Peter.” She turned to me. “I didn’t know you were taking guests, Georgia.”

  “Mr. Ree… Peter will be working on the cottages. Lucky for me he stopped in when he did since I can’t get anyone from the lumberyard down here to fix those holes in the roofs. We have to get those done before we can repair the insides of the damaged cottages. It’s a long story, and Ludi’s doing all she can, working from sunup to sundown and then having to go home and take care of her own family.” I knew I was blathering.

  Sally held up her hand. “You can’t take responsibility for the whole world, Georgia. And don’t go making excuses for Ludi. Your colored girl wouldn’t be here if she didn’t need the money. And besides, her kind is used to working long hours and scraping by.”

  My jaw dropped, locked in a half-open posi
tion. I sucked in a big breath and said, “Sally, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Ludi’s been a godsend to me, and I won’t have you speaking ill of her.”

  Her bracelets jangled as she waved her hand at me. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. You know I love our Tansy like my own sister. You need to relax, like I told you. And tonight’s just the ticket.” She turned to Peter, who still stood in the doorway. “You’re welcome to come to the town square tonight, too. We’re having a March of Dimes rally with free hot dogs, courtesy of Brookshire’s, and Georgia’s aunt has a surprise for the evening’s entertainment.”

  “Thank you, miss. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  I snagged the key to number ten from the rack and marched past Sally to hand it to him. “Mr. Reese, I apologize for my friend. Once you get to know her, you’ll understand she speaks her mind without thinking, but under all the fancy clothes, she’s got a heart of gold. There aren’t any towels in your room, but I’ll make sure you get some.”

  “Much obliged, Miz Peyton. Nice meeting you, Miz Cotton.”

  Sally tapped her foot, her latest ankle-strap pump like a metronome on the pine floor. “So, sweetie, do you think you and the girls can make it tonight? I hear the Pearl sisters are bringing their instruments. I know how you adore good fiddle playing. Besides, your aunt Cora would be in heaven if you and the girls came and supported the cause.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it… I’ve still got things to do here.” I went behind the counter and stapled the invoices for the faucets together.

  “Hey, you’re not mad at me, are you?”

  “Not mad. Disappointed, I think.” I took my time to find the right words. “You’ve changed, Sally. I hadn’t thought much about it before, but you come in here dressed like you’re going to a tea party at the state capitol and say things you didn’t used to say or even think.”

  “I’m sorry if you don’t approve of the way I dress.”

  “It’s not that… You always wanted to be part of society and have nice things, and I’m glad you got what you wanted, but when you make snide remarks about Ludi, it makes me wonder. You’ve no idea how sweet she is and how hard she works… how much the girls love her.”

  “But she’s a colored woman, Georgia. They have their own ways.”

  “And that’s where I disagree. Aunt Cora used to say things like that, and I didn’t agree with her, either.”

  “Then I guess we’ll simply have to disagree. We shouldn’t let it come between us. See you tonight then?” Her bracelets jangled as she started for the door.

  “I said I’d think about it.”

  “Suit yourself, hon, but you look like you could use a night out.”

  After she’d flitted out the door, I realized Sally hadn’t shown me the plans the Magnolias had drawn up. Her comment about Ludi still stung two hours later when Rosey got off the bus waving a mimeograph paper about the March of Dimes rally.

  “Please, Mommy, can we go? It’s for kids who can’t walk ’cuz their legs are crippled.”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking we need a night out.”

  “Really? I can give the money from my piggy bank. I have lots of dimes.”

  “All right. But you don’t have to give all your dimes. Only a few, okay? And I hear there’s gonna be fiddle playing, so we’ll have to see if we can find your cowboy boots and the outfit with the fringe on the sleeves, the one Aunt Cora gave you for your birthday.”

  “And my cowboy hat?” When I nodded, her eyes sparkled and off she went, spinning and smiling.

  Sally was right. We all needed a break.

  [ CHAPTER 13 ]

  Streamers wafted from the gazebo in Mayhaw’s town square when the girls and I arrived. Already a sizable crowd had gathered and milled around the hot dog stand on wheels, some waiting in line for their free supper, others with their cheeks stuffed, talking to neighbors and friends. The smell was robust, the kind that makes your mouth water as you anticipate sinking your teeth into something as ordinary and yet decadent as a hot dog. I felt a pang of guilt that I’d left Peter a bologna sandwich and hadn’t offered to bring him with us even after Sally had invited him. A job and a place to stay didn’t include introducing him to the citizens of Mayhaw.

  Hiring him had been a wise choice, I was still certain. He’d spent the afternoon inspecting all of the roofs and reported the construction was solid on the cottages—it was just a matter of taking off the old wood shingles and putting on new ones. He would make up a list and take it to the lumberyard the next day. As the girls and I piled into O’Dell’s Ford, Peter was on top of cottage one with a tape measure.

  A soft breeze riffled the flag at the center of the town square. The girls ran like banshees, practically turning cartwheels, and I was afraid the hot dogs we’d wolfed down might come right back up. Rosey squealed hellos to kids from her first grade class while Avril darted among the dozen or so tables sponsored by the various ladies’ circles from Mayhaw’s churches. Lemonade and coffee on one, baked goods on the others. Free desserts. Donations accepted, the signs said.

  I looked for the table of the Bethany Street Church, the one we attended with Aunt Cora, and saw Hazel Morton waving us over. Shoot. She would ask if I’d called her grandson. I waved back and acted interested in the pecan pralines the ladies at the Missionary Baptist table set out.

  “Yoo-hoo! Georgia!” Hazel’s voice rose above the crowd. I nodded that I’d seen her but let the girls take their time picking out a cupcake apiece, then dropped a quarter in the gallon-size pickle jar like the ones Aunt Cora placed around town for donations. Only then did we go over to Hazel’s table.

  Hazel eyed the girls’ cupcakes and sniffed. “We have cupcakes here, too, you know.” She crossed her arms. “So tell me, are things going well out at the Stardust?”

  “Quite nice, actually.”

  “My grandson said you never did call. I think he was expecting to hear from you.”

  “I’ve been terribly busy, and now… well, why don’t you tell Joey to go ahead and put in his application around town.”

  Hazel let out a soft snort, and I was relieved when Aunt Cora bustled up to the table and held out her arms to the girls.

  “Aren’t you two the most delicious sight I’ve seen all day?” She had Rosey turn around. “Why, that cowgirl outfit I got you is cute as a bug. And Avril, oh, my stars, I think you’re getting prettier every day. Got any kisses for your auntie?”

  Both the girls giggled and kissed Aunt Cora, who’d bent down to their level. She really was a nice person. Really.

  She turned to me. “Glad you could tear yourself away to come out. And you look lovely, too. That tangerine color is perfect with your complexion.”

  “Thanks. And sweet of you to say so.”

  She held her hand to her mouth and whispered, “Although people might talk about how quick you’ve come out of mourning.”

  “Do you think? I hadn’t even thought about it. Since I was in mourning for two months before O’Dell washed up, I figured—”

  “Shh. It’s better to be the bereaved widow than the deserted wife. But you do look nice, just remember to tear up and put on your long face if anyone mentions you-know-who.”

  “Aunt Cora, I would never—”

  Sonny Bolander strolled by arm in arm with Twila Flynn. I gave Aunt Cora a cautious look.

  She flicked her hand and leaned toward me. “Best thing Twila ever did—taking Sonny off my hands. Goodness gracious, I was tired of his catfish stinking up my kitchen.”

  Someone inside the gazebo hollered for her. She winked at me. “I’ll be fine, and so will you. Thanks for coming.” Then she pinched Rosey’s cheek and said, “I’ll see you chickadees later.”

  People had started clustering in the chairs set up in front of the gazebo, so we drifted over as well. Sally waved us over to her spot in the fourth row.

  She pointed toward the front of the bandstand. “Look at those posters, would you? Doesn’t it brea
k your heart?”

  Oh. My. One showed two young girls, dark eyed and innocent, the smaller of the two helping the other with leg braces. The slogan You Can Help, Too marched across the top of the poster. The other had a sweet boy with crutches, a larger image of a soldier in a combat helmet behind him, and the words, This Fight Is Yours.

  Sally whispered, “That could be Hud’s cousin’s little girl or one of our own.”

  “So sad. No wonder Aunt Cora is so dedicated to the cause.” Inside, the images reached a spot I reserved for starving children in China and kittens abandoned by the roadside, but this had a too-close-to-home feel.

  Rosey snuggled up next to me. “Look, Mommy. That boy in the picture has on a cowboy hat like me. Can I catch what he did and have to get crutches?” Her eyes were dark, fearful.

  “We hope not, sugar. That’s why we’re here, for you to give your dimes to help fight polio.”

  “It makes me sad. I don’t think I want to stay here.”

  “But you couldn’t wait to come.”

  “I just wanted the hot dogs and to put my dimes in the jar.”

  Sally leaned over. “Look, there’s the Pearl triplets on the stage now. I think Ozella’s tuning her fiddle.”

  And indeed she was, soft, short scritches coming from the strings as she slid the bow across. On either side of her were her identical sisters, Opal on the harmonica and Olive—who was tone-deaf but bouncing with rhythm—on the tambourine. They were around Aunt Cora’s age, and like Aunt Cora, none of them had ever married. I suspected it was because they couldn’t bear to be separated, but their buckteeth and fashions that went out with the horse and buggy might have been responsible. Which was nothing like Aunt Cora, who still caused men’s heads to turn when she walked into a room.

  As a matter of fact, as the chairman of the local March of Dimes, Aunt Cora stepped up to a microphone in the middle of the stage in her lemon-yellow suit and sling-back pumps looking like she stepped off the cover of a Southern Women magazine. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming.”