by Joyce Magnin
"And, not only that," Vera said, "but there's news out of Paradise, that little trailer park they got up there, you know the one, don't you, Rassie?"
"I sure do, Vera. Didn't they just have some kind of thing up there?"
"Oh, you mean the Blessing of the Fountain. Now ain't that the strangest thing you ever did hear? It seems the fountain was rebuilt and turned on and that created the need for a clergy blessing on the waters, I suppose. But my sources tell me that all might not be kosher with the Paradise Fountain. It seems there might be some funny business afoot. I'll keep my eyes and ears open and report back as soon as I learn more."
One of these days I was going to find her sources. I couldn't imagine who in town was filling her head and her notebook with information. Ruth never liked Vera very much. It had to be someone else.
I turned off the radio and started down the hill but I only got a few hundred feet when I saw Cliff heading up. Probably going to the plane.
I stopped and waved. He waved back and picked up his pace toward me.
"Good morning," he said when he got close to the truck. He leaned on the opened window. "Congratulations. I hear you and Zeb have finally made it official."
"We did." I held up my hand and wiggled my ring finger.
"Well, look at that. I'm very happy for you." He kissed my cheek. "Zeb is a very lucky man."
"Thanks, Cliff. And thanks for understanding."
"Ah, look. The better man won. But say, this doesn't mean you're gonna give up flying, does it?"
"No way."
"You still need to test for your license."
"I know."
"How about this Saturday? We'll fly over to Scranton and get you tested and get your license."
"Saturday? I think that will be all right."
"Good. Meet me here around nine in the morning."
There were days when I hated my library routine. And this was one of those days. Maybe it was my engagement, but whatever it was I had to really argue with myself to stay and open the mail, restock books, et cetera. But as I went about my business, I found myself thinking differently than I ever had about the library. I mean I loved the place, the building, which was actually an old Queen Anne Victorian. I knew every angle, every nook and cranny, every floorboard that creaked, but for the first time I wondered if it was still the job for me.
I had been the librarian for twenty years, and now I was thinking it might be time to turn the job over to someone else. Maybe getting married would make it possible for me to quit working. Zeb and I never discussed it, but I actually liked the idea.
The SOAP women filed in around eleven o'clock. The Christmas season meant extra duty for them. They doubled and tripled their secret acts of charity. People usually gave more money at the Thanksgiving SOAP offering at church. Once a month they took a special offering but Thanksgiving was always the largest.
"How are you, Griselda?" asked Tohilda Best, president of SOAP. "I hear congratulations are in order."
I felt my face blush. "Yes. Thank you."
"He's a fine man," she said
"He is, Tohilda. Thanks."
"Well, we best be getting to our business. So much to do this time of year. So many needy folks. We're planning a toy drop for the backwoods kids in a couple of weeks. Studebaker Kowalski is going to be our Santa Claus."
"Oh, that's terrific. He'll make a good Santa."
"We could use all the help we can get for our wrapping party at the church if you'd like to help."
"Oh, maybe. But I'm so busy right now."
"Of course," she said, "You have a wedding to plan."
"But I was wondering if you ladies had Mercy Lincoln and her mother on your list of charitable giving. They really need some help."
"Yes, yes we do. But Griselda," Tohilda said. "I heard you were planning on asking the girl to play Mary this year."
"That's right. I'm hoping she comes today so I can discuss it with her."
"Are you sure that's a good idea? Some of them backwoods families have strict ideas about fraternizing with the town folks."
"I know, but her mother lets her come to school and the library. I thought it would be worth a shot. Babette is getting too old. Mercy will do a good job—if her Mama lets her."
"Don't be surprised if she doesn't," Tohilda said.
The SOAP ladies stayed for another hour. They made their Christmas giving decisions, mapped out the routes they would take through the woods, and then left in silence, as was the custom.
I closed up the library and headed to Greenbrier. I would need to discuss the whole maid-of-honor / where-to-have-thewedding conundrum with Agnes. She might have an idea or two. I just hoped she didn't get to feeling all sorry for herself and say something stupid like, "It's OK, Griselda. You can get married without me."
When I got on the main road to Greenbrier, my thoughts turned to Leon Fontaine. I still hadn't had the opportunity to track down Mildred and see if she figured out how he broke out of her jail. I figured it was probably something obvious. The man was after all a man and not really magical even if he did kind of fit the bill of having a bit of leprechaun in him. I suspected Harriet Nurse had something to do with his escape.
Agnes was in her room eating her lunch. It didn't look all that appetizing, and I couldn't blame her when she complained. "What I wouldn't do for a decent tuna sandwich," she said when I walked into the room. "I can't eat this slop, Griselda."
"I'm sorry, Agnes. But the doctors say your health depends on you losing weight. And don't you want to feel better and move better and look better?"
"I know, I know, but why should a diet be so . . . so not delicious? Please Griselda bring me a sandwich, even just the tuna salad with no bread. I need something to tickle my taste buds."
"Well, you just had all that Thanksgiving food."
"I know but . . . but geez, this is awful." She dipped her soup spoon into the bowl of broth and let it run off the spoon back into the bowl. "Dishwater."
"At least eat the peaches and the cottage cheese and the hamburger patty."
She snorted. "I got to eat, I know it, but really."
"Go on," I said. "Besides, enough about your food. I have news."
She perked up. "Oh, I hope it's good news. Did you all figure out what in tarnation is going on around here? The folks are going crazier and crazier. They got residents climbing trees and skating and staying up well past nine o'clock playing cards in the Sunshine Room."
"Is that so terrible?"
"No, I guess not when you think about it, but it ain't normal for Greenbrier."
"Well, no, I haven't any news about that but—" I held up my left hand. "Look."
"At what?"
"My hand."
"Yeah."
"My ring finger. Look."
She pulled my hand closer to her face. "Oh, oh, a ring. An engagement ring. Who's it from?"
"Agnes."
She laughed as she dug around in her cottage cheese like she was looking for a sausage. "Well, it could have been Cliff."
"Don't be ridiculous. Zeb gave it to me. It's been in his family for years and years. He gave it to me in a slice of Full Moon Pie."
"No. Really?"
"Yep. It was kind of sweet and romantic. He decorated the café with flowers and hung little twinkling lights from the ceiling like stars. Then he served me pie. I took a bite of it and found this."
"Ah, that is sweet. Sort of."
"It was. I wish you could have been there, Agnes. They had a party for us after he gave me the ring and we kissed and all. Everybody was there. It was so much fun."
"I'm sorry I missed it." She sounded sad.
"That's why you got to stick to the diet and lose weight. So you can participate in . . . in life again."
I moved to the window and saw the funny-looking gazebo. "Has Leon Fontaine been around?"
"Haven't seen him since yesterday. He's been visiting some of the folks—or so I hear. He hasn't been to see me."
/> "Yesterday? Yesterday afternoon?"
"Yeah. He was flitting around here like a butterfly. Why you so interested?"
"Uhm, because get this, Mildred arrested him yesterday. Even though she really had nothing to hold him on. She put him in that locked room in the town hall basement. But guess what."
"He escaped!"
"Now how did you know that?"
"I didn't," she bit into her hamburger patty. "This is awful."
"Come on, tell me how."
"I didn't know, not for certain. I just figure a tricky guy like him would find a way."
"I think Harriet Nurse helped him get away when she brought him his picnic basket of food and goodies."
"Ha, good old Harriet. She is a sly one."
"But no one's seen him since, except you, if you say you saw him here."
Agnes slapped her knee. "Ha. He's a pip."
I kept looking at the gazebo and then it struck me. Just like that. Just like lightning. "Agnes. We can get married out there. In the gazebo."
"Who can?"
"Me and Zeb. We were talking about the wedding and figured it would be hard to do at the church on account of how we would get you there."
Agnes closed her eyes. "Ah, it's me again. I'm always causing trouble."
"No, no, don't think that way. This is cool. We'll get married in the gazebo. And Agnes, will you be my maid of honor?"
Agnes slapped her knee again. "Why, Griselda Sparrow, you know I will, but . . . but are you sure? I mean what will I wear? Don't think they make many bridesmaid dresses in my size."
"Ruth can sew anything. I bet she can alter a dress for you."
"Ah, she'd need to alter six or seven dresses to get one to fit me."
"Why are you doing this? Don't you want to be my maid of honor?"
Agnes closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Yes, yes, of course, I do. It's just . . . just embarrassing."
"Agnes, you've never been embarrassed by your weight— ever."
"That's where you're wrong." She pushed her plate away. And then moved it back. She wolfed down the cottage cheese. "I've always been ashamed. I . . . I just didn't know what to do about it," she said between chews.
"But, Agnes, this is different. It's my wedding."
"I know. I'm sorry. But it'll be mighty cold out there. Could snow."
"We'll make it a quick ceremony. Snow would be nice. I'll talk to Ruth. We'll figure something out." I felt the excitement build in my chest. But then deflate.
Sure it seemed simple enough to me. Talk to Ruth, sew a dress large enough for Agnes to wear, something to make her look and feel pretty on the most important day of my life. It was becoming about Agnes again.
"You know what, Agnes," I said. "I just remembered. I had an appointment."
"Appointment? You sick?"
"No, nothing like that." I kissed her cheek. "I'll get with Ruth. Don't worry we'll figure something out. I want you in my wedding."
I made my way down the hall practically tripping over Haddie Grace who came whizzing around the corner on her tricycle. "Hello, Haddie," I said. "How are you?" She didn't say anything but kept riding around the corner toward the Sunshine Room ringing her bell.
That gave me an idea. Maybe we could just get married in the Sunshine Room. Agnes could be wheeled down in her chair and even just wear a pretty housedress. I mean what did it really matter if she wore a real bridesmaid dress or not? I still didn't even know what I wanted to wear and we were getting married in just a couple of weeks.
16
I drove home from Greenbrier that day wondering and worrying about what I was going to wear to my wedding. The idea to drive into Shoops and look at some dresses crossed my mind but what also crossed my mind was that dress shopping was something I should probably be doing with Agnes. But that was impossible. I had no choice, though, than to shove the notion away and find someone else to go with.
Ruth came to mind first, but then I saw Ivy and Mickey Mantle walking along Filbert Street. I hadn't seen Ivy since the engagement party and we didn't really get a chance to talk. So I thought this would a good opportunity to catch up. I pulled Old Bessie against the curb and got out.
"Ivy," I called.
She waved. "Hey, Griselda. Congratulations."
"Thanks. But say, are you busy right now?"
"Nah, just walking."
"Feel like a ride into Shoops? I need to find a wedding dress."
"Oh, did you set a date?"
"Zeb said he'd like to get married at Christmas."
"You mean on Christmas Day?" She clapped her hands when Mickey Mantle became sidetracked by a trashcan. "Come on Mickey Mantle, stay away from that."
"Nah, not Christmas Day. I don't know which day he has in mind."
"OK, I'll go but I don't know anything about weddings or dresses."
"Me neither."
We took Mickey Mantle home and headed into Shoops.
"I guess you heard about what's going on at Greenbrier," I said as we pulled onto the main road to Shoops.
"Sure. I think it's funny. Everyone says that man from Paradise is behind it. Any truth to the rumor?"
"I'm not sure, but it sure looks like it." Then I told her about the bottles and how Mildred arrested him even though she had no real evidence and how he escaped.
"Good for him. Personally, I don't get the big deal. And that Mildred can be quick on the draw. No one is getting hurt, are they?"
"Not really. A broken hip. Some falls. Some of the residents are doing some pretty crazy things that they are really too old to be doing."
"Ah, I think it's good for them."
We chatted a few more minutes about Greenbrier and then about my upcoming wedding and Agnes.
"Just get yards and yards of pink satin and wrap her up in it. No one will notice. Besides, it's your day, and you're more worried about her than yourself."
"Look, I don't care," I said as I pulled into a parking place out front of Oppenstainers' Department Store. "I'd get married in blue jeans."
"So why don't you?"
I pushed the gearshift into park and opened the door. "Ah, I don't know. Maybe I really do want a dress, you know the whole thing."
"Really?" Ivy pulled open the store door and held it for me. "After you."
"Thank you."
The store was large, and we had walked right smack dab into the ladies' shoe department, which was right next to the perfume and makeup counters where they sprayed you whether you wanted them to or not and insisted that they test your skin type. I hated the idea that we would have to walk through there. It was like entering a mine field as far as I was concerned.
"Let's just ask someone where the dresses are. Aren't salesladies supposed to help you with stuff like this?"
I shrugged. "Beats me. I never bought a wedding dress before. Look there's a directory."
Dresses were on the second floor. "Come on, Ivy." I took a deep breath as we stepped onto the escalator. It was like diving into a deep dark pool. The whole thing made me anxious. Maybe in a good way. Maybe not.
I saw a friendly looking saleslady arranging a rack of blouses. "Let's ask her. She looks nice."
"Excuse me," I said.
The stylish, young, and thin woman turned and smiled. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a dress and—"
"Oh, certainly. Did you have anything in mind? What kind of dress were you thinking?" She looked me up and down. "Walk this way," she said. We followed her through a maze of clothing racks and displays. I had to smack Ivy when she put her hand on her hip and wiggled her hips like our saleslady.
Kind of dress? "Well, actually, it's to get married in."
"Married. You're looking for a wedding dress?" She stopped walking. "This isn't a bridal shop."
"Oh, do I need a bridal shop? Can't I just get something pretty?"
"Sure, but most brides want a wedding gown, you know with a veil and train and everything."
"A train? No, no, nothi
ng like that. I just want a dress."
"OK, then you want formal wear. Over here."
The next thing I knew, the saleslady, who said her name was Mavis, had shown me three dresses. I hated all three until she found a dress that I thought would be perfect. It wasn't your traditional wedding dress, and that was fine with me. It was long, dark blue like the sky just before the sun completely dropped behind the horizon, and had the tiniest white dots on it like stars. It made me think of the night Zeb gave me his mother's ring.
Mavis helped me into it and zipped it up the back. "Now that's gorgeous on you," she said. "I particularly like the scoop neckline and wide sleeves."
"It does look nice, doesn't it?" I said looking at myself in the long mirror. "I've never owned anything so pretty."
"I wouldn't call it a wedding gown, but for a Christmas wedding, I think it's perfect," Mavis said. "With the right hat, maybe a little pillbox with veil and corsage made from red poinsettias. Gorgeous."
"It's very nice," Ivy said.
"Now you'll want to get your hair done and maybe even your makeup," Mavis said.
"Hair? Makeup? I hadn't thought about those things."
"Of course. We have a wonderful beauty parlor right here in the store. You should make an appointment to come in the morning of your big day. Tell them you want Mr. Frederick. He's the best."
"And they'll take care of it?"
Mavis smiled again. "Yes. They'll take care of it all. Now, what about your bridesmaids? How many and what are they wearing?"
I glanced at Ivy. She shrugged.
"Oh, it's just my sister. She's my maid of honor."
"Oh, how adorable," Mavis said.
Ivy chuckled.
"Actually," I said as Mavis lifted the dress over my head. "Maybe you can help with that. She's a bit of a problem case."
"Problem?" Mavis hung my dress on the hanger. "What kind of problem?"
"Well, she'll most likely be in a wheelchair."
Mavis clicked her tongue. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is it one of them diseases that folks get that makes their muscles stop working?"
"No, no. She's . . . she's . . ."
Mavis kept looking at me, and I couldn't bring myself to say the words.
