by Debby Mayne
I feel like I’ve been abducted by aliens and dropped off on another planet. This woman sounds nothing like any of the beauty pageant people I’ve ever known.
“Marlene won several awards for all her charitable work,” Priscilla informs me. “Tell her about the humanitarian medal.”
She blushes again and waves off Priscilla’s comment. “She doesn’t want to hear about me. I’d rather hear about her.” Marlene looks back at me. “How are you doing with your Gowns for Proms charity? I have a closetful I’d like to donate if you have room for them.”
“Uh . . . sure,” I say as I try to figure out what to do with a bunch of gowns I don’t need or want. It’s been years since I even thought about that charity, and that was only when I needed a platform for the pageant. “I’ll have to find a place to store them, since I live in an apartment in Atlanta.”
“Oh that’s okay,” Marlene says. “I can keep them at my parents’ house until next year when the girls will need their gowns.” She reaches beneath the cape and pulls out a card. “Here’s my number. Call me when you start collecting them again.” She closes her eyes, moves her mouth as though saying a prayer, and then looks directly at me. “I’m so glad I got to meet you before the reunion, Ms. Baynard . . . do you mind if I call you Trudy?”
“That’s fine.”
“Oh, Trudy, this reunion will be so much fun. I can’t wait until the bonfire tonight. My favorite food is the all-American hotdog.” She lets out an uninhibited giggle. “I’ll probably eat at least four or five of them. Once I get started on hotdogs, I practically can’t stop. Especially if they have mustard, ketchup, and lots of sweet pickle relish on them.”
Priscilla grins at me and winks. “That’s how I like them too,” she says.
“I better get goin’,” I say as I take a step back.
“Will we see you at the bonfire?” Priscilla asks.
“I’m not sure yet.” I fidget with my bag and take a step back. “I’ll try to make it.”
By the time I leave the Cut ’n Curl, I feel like my whole world has turned upside down. Everything is so different now. Who would have thought anyone would even consider wearing a used gown in a beauty pageant? And to think this girl eats four or five hotdogs? In public? I shudder.
And to think I’ve been practically starving myself to lose weight before this reunion. All I’ve eaten today is half a single boiled egg and a lettuce salad without dressing.
29
Priscilla
I drag myself home after a long day at the salon, wishing I’d stopped taking appointments early enough to take a nap before the bonfire. As it is, I barely have time to shower before Tim picks me up. Mother and Dad are at a college function, so I have to be ready to go when the doorbell rings.
As always, Tim is on time. “You look gorgeous,” he says. “Not many women can wear jeans the way you do.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
He laughs. “I meant that in a good way.”
On the way to the bonfire, I realize he hasn’t asked for directions. “How do you know where we’re going?”
“I spent most of the day setting it up. Laura couldn’t find Jimmy, so she called me.” He turns off the main road toward the farm where we’ve gotten permission to have the event.
“Interesting.”
“It’s her fault no one wants to help, ya know.” Tim shakes his head slightly. “Everything has to be done her way, and if someone has other ideas, she shoots them down.”
I agree, and I can say I told you so, but I don’t respond. I’m too tired to get into a discussion about Laura’s issues, and it doesn’t seem like the right thing to do since she’s the committee chairperson who’ll wind up taking all the blame if even one thing goes wrong. And I have absolutely no doubt something will go wrong.
“Laura’s husband isn’t half bad,” he continues. “It’s when he starts drinking that he gets crazy.”
“He’s always had that problem,” I say. “Even back in high school.”
“I wonder why Laura married him. According to Pete, she doesn’t drink at all.”
“Some people are fixers.”
“So she thought she could fix him and have a perfect marriage?” Tim asks.
“Something like that.” I see a few cars lined up off the side of the dirt road. “Looks like the party has started.”
“The party started for some of those people hours ago,” Tim says. “As soon as the keg arrived, Pete and some of his old buddies tapped it. They were pretty much useless after that.”
“Pete didn’t drive home after drinking, did he?”
“He wanted to, but we wouldn’t let him. That man is strong, and he gets stronger when he’s drinking. I told Laura to get the keys to Pete’s truck as soon as she gets there to make sure Pete doesn’t get behind the wheel. She can drive home.”
“Pete’s not gonna like that,” I tell him. “He loves his truck more than anything.”
“All the more reason for her to drive. I’m sure it would break his heart to see it wrapped around a tree.”
As soon as Tim parks, we get out and join the dozen or so people standing around admiring the fire pit. Tim is about to explode with pride as he explains how he and some of the guys built it to last several hours.
“We have more wood to add later.” He points to a pile about twenty feet away. “Celeste is bringing wire coat hangers to spear the hotdogs and marshmallows.”
“I’m glad Celeste has gotten into the spirit of this whole thing. Something happened to her after her makeover.”
Tim grins. “That’s what Laura says, but I don’t think she likes what she sees.”
“Correction,” I say. “I don’t think she likes what Pete sees. Celeste has always had her eyes on him—why, I have no idea.”
“Deep down, Pete’s a good guy.”
“Yeah,” I say.
I hear a car approaching, so I turn to see that it’s Celeste’s station wagon. As soon as she pulls to a stop alongside the other cars, Laura hops out looking frazzled, annoyed, and overall a mess. Celeste, on the other hand, has an air of subtle sophistication about her—so unlike her mousy demeanor from the past. I can’t help wondering how many times she’s practiced this in front of the mirror since her makeover.
“Hey Laura,” I call out. “Looks like everything is all set up and ready to go.”
She looks around, blinks a few times, and points to a spot away from the fire pit. “I thought I told you I wanted it over there,” she says.
“Wes Hudson said we couldn’t put it there,” Tim informs her. “Since this is his farm, he has final say.”
Laura looks like she’s about to argue, but Celeste jumps in before anything comes out. “I’m sure this will be just fine, Laura. Relax a little and try to have some fun for a change, will you?”
I have to stifle a laugh. Celeste has never been what I’d call a fun kind of girl.
Tim steps a little closer to Laura and gently places his arm over her shoulder. “You did a wonderful job with the planning. None of this would have come together if you hadn’t set it up so good. We just made a few tiny adjustments, that’s all.”
When Laura smiles up at Tim, I feel warmth in my heart, until she says, “If I hadn’t set it up so well.”
“Huh?” Tim gives me a puzzled look.
I shake my head, letting him know it’s not important. “I agree with Tim. You did a wonderful job.”
“You really think so?” Laura asks.
“Yeah, we did a good job,” Celeste says as she straightens up from the back of her car. “Now it’s time to go with the flow so we can have a good time.” She holds up a bundle of coat hangers that she’s straightened. “Anyone wanna help me carry these?”
Tim doesn’t hesitate to help her. “How many hangers did you bring?” he asks. “Are we expecting the entire town of Piney Point?”
Celeste gives him a flirtatious glance. “Maybe.”
If I’d been a stranger walking u
p to the group right now, I would think Tim had known these people all his life, and I was the outsider. He fits in much better than I do.
Within an hour, the field is crawling with people, mostly people I don’t recognize. This is rather disconcerting since there was a time when I knew almost everyone in Piney Point by name. Add that to the fact that this is my graduating class party, and it makes very little sense.
“Hey Priscilla,” I hear from behind. I turn around and see Hank Starkey standing there, hands in the pockets of his high-waisted, pleated khakis, his blue-and-white striped button-down shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, wire-rimmed glasses sitting high on the bridge of his nose. “This promises to be a fun shindig.”
Hank is very nice—always has been—but I’m still surprised he managed to get a date with Marlene, who can probably have any guy she wants. “Where’s Marlene?”
He points. “Over there, getting us something to drink.” He rocks back on his heels and smiles at me. “She’s a great girl.”
I hope someone remembered to bring soda, since half of us will be driving. I’m relieved when Marlene breaks free from the crowd with a can of Mountain Dew in each hand. She flashes her wide smile as she approaches.
“I love what you did to my hair,” she says as she tosses it over her shoulder. She hands Hank his drink, leans into him, and gives him a look of pure adoration. “You were right about Priscilla, Sweetie. She’s possibly the best hairdresser I’ve ever had touch my hair.”
“You need to stop going to those discount places,” he says.
Marlene hands him his soda and frowns. “I’ve had some good haircuts at discount salons.”
I nod my agreement. “I’ve hired a few people from those places, and they’ve worked out just fine.”
“That’s just it. When a hairdresser is good, the high-end salons will hire them away.” Hank laughs as he looks over at me. “I’m working on pulling her from a cut-rate lifestyle.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being frugal,” I inform him.
Marlene flirtatiously nudges him. “See? Even the best hairdresser in Mississippi agrees with me. I can’t see spending all my hard-earned money on my hair that’s just gonna grow out anyway.” She tips her can of soda up and takes a long swig. I like her naturalness.
“Thanks for the compliment,” I say as Tim joins us.
He extends his hand toward Hank. “I’m Tim Puckett.”
I start to speak, but Hank jumps in and starts a conversation about how things have changed since we graduated. “Are you from around here?” Hank asks Tim.
As the guys chat, I glance at Marlene who is looking around, scanning the crowd. “Would you like to go meet some more people?” I ask.
“I’d love to!”
We’re barely twenty feet from our dates when Marlene touches my arm. I stop and turn to face her.
“Everyone here has been so nice to me,” she says. “I want you to know how much I appreciate that. I was worried people wouldn’t like me.”
“You were?” I’m surprised to hear this, since she exudes confidence.
She glances back at Hank. “I really like Hank, and I’m hoping . . . well, I can see myself with him for a very long time. I was worried I wouldn’t fit in, but that’s totally not the case.”
“You don’t have a thing to worry about, Marlene,” I assure her. “I have a feeling you can fit in anywhere you go.”
She tilts her head back and blows out a sigh of relief. “I am so relieved to hear you say that. I grew up dirt poor. My mama did her best, but she had me when she was a teenager, so it wasn’t easy for her.”
“That must have been rough for you.”
With a grin, she shakes her head. “It wasn’t bad. In fact, I didn’t realize how little we had until I went to middle school, and everyone else told me.” She laughs. “Even then, I thought my childhood was as rich as anyone else’s. Mama and I lived with my grandparents. Meemaw, Pappaw, and I had a great time together.” A dreamy look comes over her. “Some of my best memories are of me, Pappaw, and Meemaw at the catfish pond with our cane poles, watching the bobbers, hoping something would bite.”
That is so sweet. “It sounds like a great memory.”
“I was really sad when Pappaw passed. Meemaw and Mama still live in the same house, but things aren’t the same. They’re so depressed all the time.”
“Things do have a way of changing,” I say. “Looks to me like you’re doing just fine. Maybe some of your cheerful spirit will rub off on them.”
She grins. “That’s what I keep praying for.”
“I’ll pray for that too,” I offer.
30
Laura
Sometimes I can’t stand my husband. I’ve been at the bonfire since before the fire was lit, but he hasn’t left the keg since I arrived. You’d think he’s afraid someone might drink up all the beer and he won’t get any. I look around and see that’s not likely to happen because most of the people here—including those who would normally imbibe—have enough sense not to get drunk and drive. At least I have the keys so he won’t be able to drive.
I toss back the rest of my soda, amble over to the recycling bin, and drop the can. Then I look over at the group around the keg and see that it’s dwindled to just three guys: Pete; Jimmy, who is laughing at something Pete just said; and Dillon, the nerdy guy who used to worship Pete and try to copy him at parties. The problem with Dillon, according to Pete is that he tries too hard to act drunk, and he’s not good at it. He can’t keep his liquor down, and he gets sick before the alcohol has a chance to affect his brain. By now he should consider that a blessing. I want to go shake the man ’til his teeth rattle.
Celeste walks up and stands beside me. “Having fun yet?”
I shrug. “It’s okay. I wish Pete would get away from the keg—at least long enough to say hey to some folks we haven’t seen in a while.”
“Some things never change.” Celeste sighs.
After I give her a look from head to toe, I start to comment about her makeover. But I don’t. Instead, I just shake my head. I have to admit I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the way she looks now. In fact, I still see her as that awkward, dorky girl.
“So what do you think about all this?” Celeste continues. “Is it worth all the trouble we went to?”
“Trouble we went to?” I lean away from Celeste and level her with a you-gotta-be-kidding look. I’m the one who worked tirelessly for months and months, putting this thing together.
She glares right back at me with more challenge in her eyes than I ever thought she could manage. “Yes, Laura. We. I know you think you did everything, but in addition to a lot of legwork and unpaid time off from my job, I’ve supported you and defended every decision you’ve made.”
“Defended my decisions? Are you kidding? Why would you have to do that?” No matter how much deep breathing I do, I feel that familiar flame burning from my chest to my head. I want to smack the woman.
“Calm down, Laura, and stop acting so self-righteous.” Celeste sips from her soda can and chuckles. “Like I said, some things never change.”
“I have to go see about Pete now,” I say. If I don’t get away from this woman, I just might lose my last shred of self-control, and the drunk drivers will be the least of our problems.
Celeste doesn’t say a word as I walk away. She obviously knows she’s overstepped, and mouthing off will only make matters worse.
The whole area around the keg reeks, and I almost don’t keep going. Pete has his back to me at first, but Dillon points at me. I see his mouth move, but I can’t hear what he’s mumbling.
Pete glances my way and lifts his cup. “Come on over and join the party, Laura. Want me to pour you one?”
“No, Pete, you know I don’t want any beer.” I give Dillon and Jimmy a look that I hope will make them leave, but they don’t. I guess the pull of the keg is greater than common sense. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Pete grins at h
is buddies before looking at me. “That’s the thing about you, Laura, you always wanna talk. You need to learn there’s a time for talkin’ and a time for . . .” He lifts his cup again. “A time for lettin’ loose and havin’ some fun.” As he turns back toward the keg, he stumbles and drops his cup. He says some things that would’ve made me wash our young’uns’ mouths out with soap if they’d said them.
“She’s mad,” Dillon says loud enough for me to hear. “I better go see about the fire.”
“That wife of mine is always mad,” Pete says. “Aren’t you, Honey?”
“Please stop drinking, Pete,” I beg, knowing it’s too late but still feeling my wifely duty. “This is not good for you . . . or us.”
“Excuse me,” Jimmy says as he takes off after Dillon. “I think I’ll go help with the fire.”
Pete looks at me with road-map eyes. “Thanks for scarin’ ’em away, Hon. Now I’ve got the keg all to myself.”
“No, Pete,” I say as I walk up to the spigot and flip it, allowing the beer to pour to the ground below. “You’ve had enough to drink.”
“Hey, what’re you doin’?” He shoves me away from the keg and closes the tap. “You just wasted a bunch of beer.”
“The only thing wasted here is you,” I say as I turn and stomp away. There’s nothing I can say or do at this point, so I might as well stop trying. I want to cry, but I’m not about to shirk my responsibility to my fellow classmates. Since Priscilla is standing alone, clearly deep in her own thoughts, I join her.
She turns and does a double take. “Are you okay, Laura?”
I shrug. “About as good as you, I guess.”
“What do you mean by that? I’m fine.”
“Sure you are, Sweetie.” I pat her arm, and she steps away from me.
“This is a nice bonfire.”
I can’t help laughing at the tone of her voice. “Really? A nice bonfire? My husband’s over there gettin’ wasted.” I see Tim standing with a group of guys looking like he’d rather be anywhere but where he is. “And the man who is too in love with you for his own good feels like a dog because you act like you don’t care.”
