Luke gave me his arm as we walked down Miss Cleta’s steps. Clouds had gathered in the sky and the sun only peeked out for quick glimpses.
We were quiet as the grave for the first half of our walk until I got tired of the silence and decided to get our minds on something else. “You see the way Gemma and Tal looked at each other?” I asked, even though I knew full well he had. “You’d think there weren’t no sick person in the room at all, for mercy’s sake.”
“They got eyes for each other, no doubt. Leastways they won’t get tired of lookin’ at each other after they get married.”
“Well, I hope Tal keeps his eyes on Miss Cleta, too. She is the patient, after all.”
“Doc says she’s fine, and I think so too. Her color was comin’ back when we left, and I ain’t never seen a body feisty like that in the face of death.”
“You can’t judge Miss Cleta’s health by her feistiness. I wouldn’t be surprised if she reached out of her coffin and gave me one last scoldin’.”
He laughed and pulled my arm closer, but we walked on in silence after that. Beautiful silence. The cicadas sang sonnets, and the clouds that had rolled in were carried along by a soft breeze. I closed my eyes and drank it all in, my footsteps guided by Luke’s arm, and I didn’t open them up until I felt him slip his arm away from mine. My heart sank when he pulled away, but it skipped the moment I felt him grab my hand with his own. His grasp was gentle and tight all at once, and the way his touch made my heart turn somersaults, you would have thought he’d declared his undying love for me right there in the middle of the dusty road. Neither of us said a thing.
There weren’t really words that would work, anyway.
* * *
The next morning I got to Miss Cleta’s by six thirty and found Gemma cuddled up next to Tal on the porch. I held my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun and smiled at them. “Lookin’ right energetic this mornin’,” I said in a voice laced with more than a little suggestion. “Guess things are fine here, then?”
Tal stood up like a gentleman and returned my smile. “The patient’s doin’ fine, Jessilyn. Probably just a bad case of indigestion. The way I see it, she’ll live to be a hundred. Maybe more.”
“I have no doubt she will. She’s got too much to live for, bossin’ me about and all.”
“Then get on in here, Jessilyn Lassiter, and let me start today’s bossin’!” Her voice made me jump, the strength of it confirming the doctor’s clean bill of health.
I rolled my eyes and opened the door. “Yes, Miss Cleta.”
Tal and Gemma followed me in, and he took Miss Cleta’s pulse one last time. “Good and steady. Miss Cleta, I wish all my patients were as good off as you.”
“Don’t you go takin’ too good care of me, now. I ain’t too keen on bein’ long on this earth.”
Tal looked at me sideways.
“She figures she’s better off in heaven,” I said. “But I wouldn’t worry about her jumpin’ off any bridges or anythin’, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”
“Land’s sake. I ain’t goin’ to do myself in, boy. ’Course, drinkin’ that potion you gave me yesterday was near about kin to it.” Miss Cleta waved a hand at him. “You can get on your way now Jessilyn’s here. See to it Gemma gets home safe. And don’t forget your fee. It’s on the table.”
It was clear Tal had known enough cranky patients in his day, and he took her instructions in stride, tipping his hat in a gesture of compliance. “Yes’m. You let me know if there’s anythin’ more you need, you hear?”
Once they’d left, I settled Miss Cleta in with a nice, fresh cup of tea. She took a few sips and then tapped her toe like she did when she was thinking about something particular. “Seems we have a weddin’ comin’ up, then.”
I busied myself straightening things that didn’t really need straightened so my feelings wouldn’t show when I answered. “Yes’m. Right soon, too, I reckon.”
“Mm-hmm.” She set her teacup on the side table. “And just how’re you feelin’ about that?”
I only shrugged. “Just fine.”
“Just fine!” She made a little hissing noise between her teeth like something a cat would say. “If you’re fine about it, then I’m Eleanor Roosevelt.”
“Well then, we’d best get you back to the White House.”
She wagged a finger at me. “Don’t you go gettin’ fresh with me, Jessilyn Lassiter. You know good and well what I’m talkin’ about. You ain’t never been fond of the idea of lettin’ go of Gemma, and I figure rightly you’re feelin’ none too good about it just now.”
I gave the framed picture of Sully on the piano one last push to get it where I wanted it and then turned to face Miss Cleta with a bit of sass all my own. “Well, what’s a girl supposed to feel when she’s losin’ her best friend? You tell me.”
“Lots of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like sadness, frustration, happiness.”
“They don’t much go together.”
“Sure they do. When you love people, there’s always a mix like that. You think lovin’s easy? It ain’t. It’s hard work. Awful hard work. But if you find good folks to love, it’s worth all the feelin’s you get from it.” She patted the chair next to hers, and I slid into it reluctantly. “Now listen here, ain’t nothin’ wrong with you feelin’ sad about Gemma leavin’ your house. Nothin’ at all. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with you wantin’ things not to change, neither. But fact is, they do.” She gave my chin a little flick. “Anyhow, what d’you figure on doin’ once Luke gets up his nerve to ask for your hand? You plannin’ on stayin’ with your momma and daddy? or with Gemma?”
I tipped my head sideways to acknowledge what she was gettin’ at. “No, ma’am, you know I ain’t.”
“Well then, you need to find that part of you that can accept the changes as necessary. And you got to find that part of you that’s happy for Gemma ’cause she’s happy. I know that part’s in you somewhere because you ain’t a selfish girl.”
A surge of guilt at how I’d felt of late filled me up when she said that. I laced my hands in front of me, staring at them. “I wouldn’t say that, Miss Cleta. I think I’m likely to be good and selfish.”
“No, you ain’t. Not like I’m meanin’ it. If you were really selfish, you wouldn’t want what’s best for those you love. But I believe you do, else you wouldn’t fuss and bother over me like you do. Nor would you fight so hard for people who have a hard time of it, like you do for Gemma, or how you did with Mr. Poe, rest his soul.” She lifted her cup to her lips again, pursing her lips as she swallowed. “No, ma’am. You ain’t a selfish girl, leastways no more’n most of us are. Ain’t a body on this earth that don’t feel a little possessive about ones they love when push comes to shove. But once you get over the shock of it, you’ll feel right fine for Gemma. You like Tal, don’t you?”
“Ain’t many better, Miss Cleta. If I’m goin’ to think thataways, I can’t pick a better match for her.”
“I reckon I’d agree with that from what I’ve seen.”
“He’s a good man, and Gemma will make him a good wife. I’m sure they’ll be happy together.” I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I reckon I just wish she could do both—marry Tal and still live with me like my sister. But that’s child’s talk.”
Miss Cleta let out one of her short, hooting laughs. “Land’s sake, honey, once you got a weddin’ ring on your finger, you won’t want no sister livin’ with you!”
I could feel my cheeks blushing, but I just waved her off. “I ain’t even got a proposal yet.”
“You will. And once you and Gemma are both married, you’ll be livin’ no more’n a stone’s throw away, and I reckon you’ll end up sittin’ on one another’s porches, watchin’ the children play together and talkin’ about life. Things likely won’t be as different as you’re thinkin’ they’ll be, and more likely than not they’ll be better.”
I laid my hand over hers and gave it
a squeeze. “I reckon so, Miss Cleta. You always make more sense than most of Calloway put together.”
Chapter 13
There was a table full of girls in the corner of the diner that kept casting hopeful glances in Luke’s direction and then giggling. I knew full well that Luke had been pick of the litter since the day he came to Calloway, and his soaring business had only made him more so. I knew that well enough to know the sting of jealousy like an old friend.
Other girls had always had more feminine ways than I did, and they could flirt better than I could ever know how. But I just scooted a little closer to him and ignored all those fluttering eyelashes and ridiculous giggles because today I figured I had one thing they didn’t.
Luke Talley.
We’d come to the diner after church with our old friends Buddy Pernell and Dolly Gooch, but they were so lost in each other, it was like having the table to ourselves. Those two wouldn’t have noticed a tornado two feet away. They certainly didn’t notice a table full of gawking girls.
I could tell by Luke’s pointed resistance to look their way that he knew full well what was going on, and to his credit he paid no attention to anyone outside of our table. When the girls finally left, they sashayed past our table like a row of beauty contest hopefuls, but Luke kept his eyes on his peach pie.
Luke tossed back the last bite and pushed his plate away. Then he smiled and leaned close to me. “Did I tell you that you look pretty today?”
Heat crept up my neck, but I willed it to stay away from my cheeks. I looked away, feigning hurt. “No. Guess you had your mind on other things.”
“Ain’t had my mind on nothin’ else. Couldn’t even tell you a word the pastor said in church.”
It was a little piece of magic, the two of us sitting there, sharing a look that nobody else could ever share in a million years.
That is, until a dollop of whipped cream landed square on the tip of my nose.
I rolled my eyes. “Buddy Pernell, you’re such a child!”
Luke smiled at me and ran his finger down my nose to clear it away. “Looks good on you.”
Buddy laughed a laugh that hadn’t changed since the time we were children together, even though the rest of him had. “I owed you, didn’t I? Anyways, that ain’t near as bad as stuffin’ cake up my nose like you did.”
“Well, you almost drowned me. I win.” I dipped my napkin in my water and scrubbed the sticky residue away. “For a man fixin’ to marry, you sure act like a boy. I swear, Dolly, you got your work cut out for you, marryin’ him.”
“That’s what his momma says.”
Buddy shook his head and pointed his straw at Luke. “You see how these ladies talk? Just once, I’d like to hear what goes on in one of them sewin’ circles they have.”
“‘Oh, Dolores,’” Luke sang out, “‘I do declare that husband of mine will be the death of me! He don’t do nothin’ but eat and sleep and cause me trouble.’”
I shoved my spoon into my chocolate sundae and eyed Luke up one side and down the other. “What in tarnation is that supposed to be?”
“Woman talk, of course.”
“Ain’t no woman this side of the Mason-Dixon Line got a voice like that.”
“You sayin’ you met every woman in the South?”
I rolled my eyes in disgust. “You make us women sound like crazy people.”
Buddy and Luke exchanged a glance that said, Maybe they are crazy, but I ain’t goin’ to be the one to say it. I was just about to protest when Gemma came in, breathless from having hurried over.
“There’s trouble brewin’ over at the meetin’ place,” she called out. “And Tal’s right mixed up in it.” Then she scurried back into the street. All four of us rushed out of the diner, following in Gemma’s wake.
The meeting place was a field behind the lumberyard, a wide meadow dotted with shade trees, perfect for picnics and such. Today it was being used by the colored church for their monthly social, but nobody in particular owned it. It just sat there on the outskirts of town to accommodate anyone who wanted a place to picnic or laze about on a fine afternoon, one of the few places in or near town where there were no Whites Only signs or separate entrances. After all, it was nothing but God’s country there, and there wasn’t anybody who had the right to put such stipulations on that.
Or so I thought.
By the time we got there, the arguing voices were raised in the kind of way that doesn’t do anything but make a body nervous, and I knew without even thinking who one of those voices belonged to.
“Malachi,” I groaned in Luke’s ear. “He’s at it again.”
“But he didn’t start it.” Gemma tugged at my arm to get my attention. “It’s Cole Mundy and Delmar Custis. They come over here all liquored up—on a Sunday no less—and start fussin’ at Tal, and then they go tellin’ the rest of us we ain’t got the right to use this here meadow no more. ‘We is too,’ Malachi says. ‘Ain’t no laws against it.’ So Delmar, he says it’s white people that make the laws, and any self-respectin’ white man knows there ain’t no excuse for no group of . . . Well, you can guess what he called us. He says ain’t no excuse for a group of us to be ruinin’ the scenery for law-abidin’ folks who want to come into town of a Sunday.”
“Delmar Custis!” I narrowed my eyes at the man’s back. “He ain’t nothin’ but a Klansman at heart. Always has been, always will be.”
“Well, you can bet Malachi couldn’t keep his mouth shut, so now he’s over there arguin’ with those two, who ain’t got half the sense God gave a mule on a good day. When they’re liquored up, there’s no tellin’ the trouble they’ll cause.” Gemma glanced nervously at Delmar, who was now pointing and yelling like some sort of hellfire-and-brimstone preacher on revival Sunday. “And you know that Cole Mundy’s always got his huntin’ knife on him. Maybe even a pistol, too. I’m afraid he’ll start somethin’.”
Luke and Buddy edged forward to intervene, but Dolly grabbed Buddy’s arm. “Don’t you go gettin’ yourself shot, Buddy Pernell, you hear?”
“I ain’t aimin’ to.” He gave her a wink and sauntered off beside Luke.
“I declare, that boy’s goin’ to up and get himself killed one day the way he dabbles in trouble.” Dolly crossed her arms and clucked her tongue like we weren’t watching more than a picture on a movie screen. “He’ll leave me a widow one day, you watch . . . if we even make it to the altar before he meets his Maker.”
Gemma and I looked at her like she’d gone crazy, but we knew she was just being herself. Dolly Gooch had always been a kind soul, but she hadn’t ever been much for serious thinking. Her mind had only been on looking pretty and setting up house ever since we were ten years old.
Well, she may have been the type to sit back and watch, but I wasn’t. I walked off behind Luke, with Gemma at my heels, stopping only when I got to the edge of the crowd so Luke wouldn’t yell at me for getting in his way. Tal stood off to Luke’s left, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“You get Sheriff Clancy?” I whispered to Gemma.
“He ain’t there!” She shook her head hard. “I tell you, that man’s about as worthless as pig slop. He’s probably off playin’ poker somewheres.”
Luke whistled to interrupt the arguing, his hand at his waist so he could get a feel for his pistol. “This sure is a lot of noise for a fine Sunday,” he said when eyes turned toward him. “Seems a shame to waste such an afternoon on a spat over nothin’.”
“You ain’t got no business here, Talley.” Delmar stared him down and then spit his chaw on Luke’s foot. “Why don’t you and your friend here clear out and let me take care of these niggers?” He jerked his head in my direction. “And keep your girlfriend there from shootin’ willy-nilly. Seems she almost shot up my boy the other day, but I ain’t like to let her get away with it same as he did.”
Luke casually looked down at his shoe, stared for a few seconds, then flicked his foot to the side to knock the chaw off. “I see you got your
self as much class as ever, Custis,” he murmured. “Now, why don’t you head on out before this here trouble gets out of hand. The way I hear it, in this town, the meetin’ place is open to all folks. Ain’t no lawmakin’ for a place that belongs to no one particular man.”
“Anythin’ ain’t man-owned is county-owned, the way I see it.” Cole Mundy stood a full four inches shorter than Luke, and he nearly stood on his toes to bring himself up to Luke’s face, making him look more like a child at a circus than anything else. “Now, like the man said, clear out!”
“You ain’t never had no problem with the colored church meetin’ here before, Mundy. What’s got you so riled up now?” He leaned toward Cole and sniffed. “Aside from the fact that you’ve been at the sauce.”
Tal was standing just behind Malachi, and he moved forward, raising one hand in the air like he was waiting to be called on by the teacher. “I reckon I’m the one got them riled up. There was a couple white boys playin’ over by that fence there.” He pointed off in the distance and waited for Luke to nod his understanding before he continued. “Well, one of them, he fell down and hurt himself, so I went on over to check and see if there was somethin’ I could do to help. These men here, they saw me talkin’ to the boy, and Mr. Custis says it ain’t fittin’ for a colored doc to touch any white boy.”
“He didn’t call him a ‘colored doc,’ neither,” Gemma muttered.
“This boy ain’t got no call to put his filthy hands on a white boy, nohow. But it was this one got uppity—” Delmar jabbed his finger in the air toward Malachi—“sayin’ it ain’t my business to go about tellin’ a doctor who he can and can’t tend to. I ain’t a man to stand for one of his kind talkin’ to me like dirt. I want some respect from him!”
Malachi shook his head, smirking. “Shoo-wee! This here fella wants me to have respect for him.” He gave Delmar a once-over and laughed. “I’m confused. You want me givin’ you respect for your fat gut or for your tobacco-stained teeth?”
Delmar took a leap at Malachi, but Malachi just stepped out of the way and let the heavier, slower man fall to the ground.
Catching Moondrops Page 15
