The Wedding Pearls

by Carolyn Brown

  Frankie is a prophet. She said the Laveaus and the Beauchamps had passion. Maybe I only had to rub elbows with the bloodline to get my dose of it, but tonight as I write about my feelings, I realize that not a one of them was lukewarm. My heart has been broken and I can’t stop this flood of tears. I’ve known excitement, comfort, fear . . .

  Oh, I forgot to talk about fear. When Branch left with that farmer, my chest tightened up and I couldn’t breathe for fear that he’d never come back alive. I’ve never known such a fear, not in my whole twenty-nine-plus years, or such relief when he did come back with a tire so we could get away from that barn.

  So now it’s time to go to bed, time to smother my sobs and hope that tomorrow morning Lola doesn’t notice my eyes are swollen. I’ve fallen in love with all of these eccentric people. In one week, I have found family, friends, and Branch. And in a short time I may have to say good-bye to them. I won’t think about that. I’ll focus on Melody’s excitement and the comfort in Branch’s touch, the thrill of his kisses, and make the best of the rest of the time I have with these wonderful people.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Tessa awoke with a start when the alarm went off and slapped the top of the clock, hoping that she hit the snooze button. When it buzzed again immediately, she opened her eyes and realized it was the hotel phone, not the alarm. The numbers on the clock changed as she grabbed for the receiver, dropped it, and had to lean off the bed so far that she almost fell. Her heart stopped and then raced as she brought it to her ear. It had to be Ivy or Frankie, and it was bad news if they were calling Branch’s room at three a.m.

  She said hello but it came out so raspy that she didn’t recognize it as her voice. “Frankie?” she said.

  “This is not Frankie and I don’t know which one of you I’m talking to, the home-wrecking bitch or you, Branch Thomas, but either one will do. I don’t know how in the hell you pulled this off but I’d bet it had something to do with that red-haired kid. She probably hacked into my computer and then pretended to have psychic powers. I could strangle her with my bare hands.” The voice on the other end was shrill and angry.

  “Who in the hell is this? You must have the wrong number. Oh!” Tessa gasped when she realized it was Avery. She’d expected the call right after they’d gotten to Branch’s room, but the phone hadn’t rung. And now at three a.m. the hussy woke her up? Those shovels were looking better by the minute.

  “I’m talking about the fact that I’m in Houston in my apartment, and I might have lost this battle but the war is still on. You tell Branch Thomas that he knows I’m a poor loser and I have not lost the ability to dish out paybacks. Tell him, too, that the engagement is over so don’t come crawling back to me, but I’m hitting his family like a wrecking ball and he’s going to regret the day he did this.”

  Tessa waited for a click or something to say the call had ended, but there was nothing but silence. Branch raised his head and opened one eye. “Is everything all right with Frankie and Ivy?”

  “It was Avery. She decided to go home, but she did say for you to remember that she’s a poor loser.” Tessa laid the receiver back into the cradle.

  Branch covered his head with a pillow. “How long until we have to get up?”

  “Five hours, max,” she answered.

  “Good,” he said and in less than a minute he was snoring again.

  When the real alarm went off at eight, she sat straight up in bed to the aroma of a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the nightstand beside her and the scent of Branch’s shaving lotion coming from the bathroom. But there was no Branch anywhere in the room.

  He had written a short message on the hotel notepad that said he had gone to help the guy put the tire on the Caddy and he would see her in the dining room for breakfast.

  Tessa loaded her plate with two big cinnamon rolls and carried a cup of coffee to the table where the other four ladies were sitting. Branch was nowhere in sight, so he must still be outside with the tire people.

  “How’d you sleep? Did that witch give you any grief?” Ivy asked.

  “Evidently she decided to go home, because she called at three this morning. Scared the devil out of me. I thought either you or Frankie had”—she paused before she gave away too much—“gotten sick after that night in the barn. I was afraid all that dust and hay had made your lungs worse. Anyway, she was ranting about pulling something off and then she said she was a poor loser and she was really mad about a red-haired kid who was a psychic. Y’all know anything about that?”

  Branch waved from across the dining room as he wove through the chairs to the table where they sat. “New tire is on the car and there’s a brand-new one in the trunk for a spare. Maybe we won’t have to sleep in a barn again. Y’all all rested and ready for the next leg of the journey?”

  “We are ready,” Lola answered. “Mama says that we’ll be stopping in Dalhart at noon and then I found a little town between there and Plainview that’s having a festival this afternoon. It starts at two thirty after a parade and there’s a carnival and all kinds of vendors with food. Then we’re going on to Plainview for the night. I’ve got reservations already arranged. Tessa says y’all got a call about three this morning and Avery decided to go home.”

  Branch braced his arms on the back of Tessa’s chair. “I thought I’d dreamed that about her calling. I’ve been watchin’ the doors and the dining room, hoping our paths wouldn’t cross this morning. I’ve already had breakfast, so I’m going up to my room and checking on things at the office before we leave. Y’all going to have your bags ready for me at ten sharp?”

  Tessa looked up at him. “Mine’s already packed and ready by the door.”

  “This part of the wagon train will have our horses hitched at ten,” Frankie said. “We’re rested and ready to roll. But this redhead here has to put her things in order, so we’d best haul her up to our room and get busy.”

  “Speaking of a red-haired psychic?” Tessa glanced over at Melody.

  “Later,” she mouthed.

  Lola didn’t budge. “I’ll sit with Tessa while she eats. My things are already packed.”

  “So do you want to tell me about whatever it was that Melody did? I’ve got a feelin’ it’s a real good story,” Tessa asked.

  “That’s a story for later. Right now I want to talk to you about something else,” Lola answered.

  “Okay?” Tessa popped a bite of cinnamon roll into her mouth.

  “There’s this set of heirloom pearls in our family. Part of the Beauchamp heritage. Mama’s grandma inherited them from her grandma and they’ve come down through the ages. Each mama fastens them around their daughter’s neck on her wedding day.” Lola stopped and dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

  Tessa’s stomach tied itself into a pretzel-shaped knot. The lump in her throat refused to go down no matter how much coffee she guzzled. Lola had found out that Frankie had offered her the pearls and it had upset her and now what was Tessa to do?

  “I’ve been so stubborn, Tessa,” Lola finally went on. “I’ve been seeing a man, Hank is his name, and he’s gotten down on one knee and proposed to me more than half a dozen times and I always turn him down. I’m not good enough for him, but he tells me that I’m his soul mate. I don’t think Ivy has much more time on this earth and I don’t want her to die and not know that I’m settled and happy at last even if I am staring at that big five-oh mark in a couple of years.”

  “So”—Tessa was afraid to breathe—“you are going to get married?”

  Lola smiled and nodded. “I told Hank last night that I’d marry him but I don’t want anything big or flashy. Just him and me and Inez and Mama and Ivy and you. Maybe Melody since she’s kind of won my heart on this trip and Branch and the justice of the peace.”

  “Does he live in Boomtown?” Tessa asked.

  “He’s Inez’s brother and he’s fifteen years older than me. And I’m not sure Mama’s going to like the idea, but it will mean a lot to her to put those pearls on me and s
ee me happy. Truth is, I don’t know how long she’ll last after Ivy is gone, and I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

  Tessa pushed the last cinnamon roll to the middle of the table. “But you were afraid it would turn out like the first one. You had to be sure Hank wouldn’t leave you, right?”

  Lola pinched off a bite and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing before she spoke again. “I don’t know how I ever gave birth to a smart kid like you. It’s probably more environmental than it is genetic, but thank you.”

  Tessa handed Lola her coffee cup. “You’ll need a drink after that sticky stuff. You are going to make Frankie very happy. Now, tell me about these pearls?”

  Lola took a sip and handed it back. “They’re just a strand of aged pearls. Rumor had it Mama’s grandma’s ancestor was a Louisiana Cajun fisherman. He started saving pearls he found when he was a kid on his father’s fishing boat. He kept every one of them and when his only daughter got married, he had them strung for her as a wedding gift with the instructions that she was to pass them down to her firstborn daughter on her wedding day. I want her to put them on me when Hank and I get married, and it would be sad if Ivy wasn’t there.”

  “I think it will, but why did you feel the need to tell me?” Tessa removed her hands and went back to eating.

  “Because”—Lola took a deep breath—“it would be . . . my job . . . my honor”—she stumbled over the words—“then I would have earned the right to pass them on to you when you get married. I know Sophie raised you and you might want to wear something of hers on that day, so you can refuse.”

  Tessa laid her fork down and reached for both of Lola’s hands, holding them tightly in hers. “I would love to wear the pearls, and it would make me happy if you would put them on me on that day.”

  “Thank you,” Lola said. “Sometime today I’m going to tell Mama. We’re planning on having the wedding as soon as it can be arranged when we get home.”

  “And, Lola, you are right. Ivy told me she’s only got a few months left, so the sooner, the better,” Tessa said.

  “I knew it.” Lola wiped at her eyes with a paper napkin. “I could feel something wasn’t right down deep in my bones.”

  Mollybedamned rolled out of the parking lot at exactly ten fifteen that morning. A few puffy white clouds dotted the sky and it was about ten degrees cooler than it had been the other mornings, which made for a wonderful morning.

  “Where’s your knitting?” Tessa asked about thirty minutes after they’d gotten out on the road.

  “In the trunk.”

  “Did you forget it?” Ivy asked.

  Lola twisted around in the seat so she could see her mother and Ivy. “No, I do believe I’m cured, or I will be when I tell y’all something.”

  “Spit it out,” Ivy said. “If saying something will cure you of that incessant humming and them clickin’ needles, then spit the damn words out.”

  “Mama, I want you to put the pearls on me,” Lola said.

  Frankie smiled but shook her head. “You know the rule. You don’t get those pearls unless it’s your wedding day. Have you finally accepted Hank’s proposal? What is this? About the tenth one?”

  Lola’s expression was pure shock. “How long have you known?”

  Frankie poked Ivy on the arm. “How long?”

  Ivy chuckled and readjusted her nose tubes. “Don’t make me laugh. We’ve known since the first time he proposed. He’s a good man. Maybe not in your league financially, but then money ain’t nothin’ but dirty paper with dead presidents’ pictures on it so that don’t matter. I hear that since he’s retired from the postal service that he wants to do some travelin’. That what you got in mind?”

  “I’ve been scared to death to tell y’all,” Lola said.

  Frankie undid her seat belt and slid forward so she could hug Lola. “I’ve been in the same boat about tellin’ you because after that first time when I interfered and made such a mess of it, I swore to God I’d never say another word about your love life. But I’ll be happy to put the pearls on you for your wedding day and then you can put them on Tessa someday, right?”

  Lola twisted around in the seat to kiss her mother on the cheek. “That’s the only way she’ll get them.”

  Frankie winked at Tessa. “You okay with that?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure am.”

  “Okay, then, when is the wedding?” Ivy asked.

  “Soon as we get home. We don’t want anything big or fancy. Just a few people and a justice of the peace.”

  Frankie cut her off. “And a preacher, not a justice of the peace. I don’t care if you wear a big white dress or blue jeans but I want it done by a real preacher so that it will be recorded up in heaven.”

  “Mama, it will be recorded at the courthouse,” Lola argued.

  “A preacher or no pearls,” Frankie said.

  “Then a preacher it is.” Lola smiled.

  “Halle-damn-lujah!” Ivy said. “This really has been the best trip ever.”

  “What?” Melody jerked the earbuds from her ears. “What did I miss? Why is everyone smiling so big? Did something more happen with that Avery witch?”

  “Lola is getting married,” Frankie yelled and waved her arms in the air.

  Ivy followed suit and hollered. “We’re having a wedding soon as we get home. Halle-damn-lujah a second time around!”

  Melody stuck hers up and joined the old ladies. “And I’m invited, right, Lola?”

  “Of course,” Lola answered. “And you’re coming, too, Branch.”

  “On or off the clock, Frankie?” Branch teased.

  “If she wants you there, you can bill me for that hour, but not another minute more,” Frankie said.

  “Thank God that’s over!” Tessa said softly. “I was afraid Frankie might stroke out.”

  “Why?”

  “With happiness,” Tessa replied.

  “She and Ivy are pretty wily old gals. Maybe they planned this journey to get Lola away from Hank so she’d realize that she was in love with him,” Branch said.

  “I can’t believe they knew this whole time. I’ve agonized over telling them,” Lola said.

  “And now they have a wedding to plan. It might be the very thing to help Ivy hang on longer,” Tessa said.

  The festival was in a town that had a post office, two churches, a convenience store with one gas pump, and maybe half a dozen houses. The banner stretched across the street welcomed everyone to the annual cotton festival.

  Two men in yellow vests were directing traffic to an open lot back behind the convenience store for parking or else around town if they were passing through. Branch held up traffic long enough to let the ladies out of the car before he drove to the back of the lot and parked Mollybedamned in a less congested area.

  “I’ll keep a close eye on that beauty for you. My name is Cletus. Who are you?” one of the yellow-vested elderly men said. “Too bad y’all didn’t pull into town an hour ago. We’d have loved to have had it in our parade.”

  “Thank you. I’m Branch Thomas, and we’re only passing through. The ladies thought they’d like to enjoy the festival,” Branch said. “So evidently y’all do a little cotton farmin’ in this part of the state?”

  “Used to. In the past five years it ain’t done too good for us, not with irrigation, but we still like to have our festival. It’s kind of like old home week when all the folks that was raised up around here come on back and visit. We got a chili cook-off at the Baptist church and a baked goods sale goin’ on across the street at the Church of Christ.” The old guy brought out a package of cigarettes and offered Branch one.

  Branch waved it away. “Thanks, but I never got started on that habit.”

  “Smart man.” Cletus lit up an unfiltered Camel. “Y’all done missed the oldest person in town, Oma Ray Smith, goin’ out in the cotton field and pickin’ the first boll. She’s ninety-nine this week and she remembers pickin’ cotton when she was a kid. Looks like I got
another customer here, but don’t you worry none, I’ll park him far enough away from your Caddy that no doors will be scratchin’ up that pretty red paint.”

  “Appreciate it,” Branch said. “We probably won’t be here but a couple of hours.”

  “Go on and have fun. Me, I’m going to stand here and drink in her beauty while I enjoy this smoke,” Cletus said.

  Branch found Ivy and Frankie sitting on a bench in the shade of the post office. Two elderly ladies had pulled up lawn chairs beside them and they were talking about cotton growing and how they’d all grown up knowing how to pull bolls and pick cotton both.

  Frankie grabbed his wrist. “We was waitin’ on you. The other three went on to the carnival over there across the street. Me and Ivy don’t care nothin’ about that wild-lookin’ swing thing, but we do want some cotton candy and a snow cone.”

  Ivy made introductions. “This here is our driver, Branch Thomas, and this is our new friends, Maybelle and Earnestine, Branch.”

  Branch tipped his cowboy hat and drawled, “Pleasure to meet you lovely ladies.”

  “Oh, Maybelle, he is charmin’, ain’t he?” Earnestine fanned her face with the back of her hand.

  “If only we was forty years younger,” Maybelle said.

  He grinned and took Blister’s leash from Ivy. “Here, let me take care of the pup. You concentrate on breathing.”

  “They’re jealous,” Ivy told him they made their way through the crowd.

  “They should be. I’m with the two best-lookin’ women here,” Branch teased.

  Frankie slapped him playfully on the arm. “We’re talkin’ about the ladies over there, not the old men givin’ us the eye. And don’t you be butterin’ us up so you can bill me for the couple of hours we’re stopping here. This is off the books for you.”