by Lynne Hinton
“Sí,” Maria answered. “She came to the carnival without him,” she added. “He was there and she would not speak to him.”
“But why would she break up with him now? I really thought she cared for this man.”
“She is afraid, Bea. He was starting to get very serious with Sister Charlotte. He was here all the time. He was giving her flowers, taking her home to meet his family. I was starting really to like him too. And since, well,you know who has been gone …”
“Carla,” Beatrice noted, saying her name because she knew Maria wouldn’t.
“Since she has been gone, I thought the two of them were deep in love. I thought he might propose,” Maria added.
“Really? Propose?” Beatrice asked, sounding very surprised. “It was that serious between them?”
“Sí,” Maria answered. “That serious, yes. He was here every day, and then, I don’t know. Something just happened.”
There was a pause.
“She snapped,” Beatrice said.
“Snap?” Maria said in reply, sounding confused. “What is snap?”
“Snapped,” Beatrice corrected her. “You know, her nerves broke, she arrived at a point of no return.”
“You see this before?” Maria asked.
“Lots of times,” Beatrice answered, sounding very smug.
“On your television movies?” Maria asked.
“And in real life,” Beatrice replied.
“You see Sister Charlotte snap?” Maria wanted to know.
“Well, no, not Charlotte. I’ve just seen it happen to women when they think they’re getting ready to be asked to make a commitment.” She paused. “Although, now that I think about it, it’s usually men.”
“Who snap?” Maria asked, intrigued by Beatrice’s line of thinking.
“Yes, who snap,” Beatrice answered.
The two women waited. They were both considering the notion that Charlotte might have lost her nerve.
“So, Jessie and James get all their stuff fixed?” Maria asked, changing the subject and recalling why Charlotte had returned to North Carolina. She knew about everything that had been going on in Hope Springs because she and Beatrice talked quite often.
“Seems so,” Beatrice replied. “They were meant to be together. Even though they were apart for such a long time, they’re just like any old married couple,” she added.
“And are you still going to your daughter’s wedding next week?” Maria asked. She also knew that Beatrice had mentioned the possibility of missing the destination wedding, and in all their conversations, she hadn’t been updated about Robin’s visit.
“Dick and I made arrangements to go,” Beatrice replied. “Robin and I worked things out,” she added.
“Ah, God is good,” Maria announced. “You and your daughter needed to talk. I’m glad that happened, Bea.”
“Yes, well, what are you going to do, right?” Bea asked. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Maria asked.
“I just don’t think it’s going to work out between them,” she replied. “He’s got children and an ex-wife, and I don’t know, I just don’t think he’s been honest with Robin,” she added. “It all happened too fast.”
“Did you tell her about your concerns?” Maria asked.
“I tried, but it took her so long just to tell me about the wedding, I decided not to say anything.” Beatrice paused. “I was trying not to meddle,” she added.
“El dolor de las madres,” Maria said, and then translated into English, “The burden of mothers.”
“You can say that again,” Beatrice responded. “I figure they’ll manage things together and she’ll find out sooner or later about this guy.”
Maria made a kind of humming noise. “And your friend Louise,” she asked. “Is her husband dead?”
“Died last week,” Beatrice answered. “She should be back in Hope Springs for the renewal service this weekend too.”
“You have missed her, yes?” Maria asked.
“Yes, I have missed her,” Beatrice replied.
The two women paused.
“And I have missed Charlotte,” Beatrice added. “And I’m concerned about her.”
“Yes, so am I,” Maria noted. “But what is there to do?” she asked.
There was another long pause.
“Perhaps we can figure out something to do,” Beatrice said.
“What are you thinking, Bea?” Maria could tell that she was plotting something.
“I’m not sure,” Beatrice replied. “But I will need Officer Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s phone number,” she said.
“Oh no,” Maria responded. “Sister Charlotte would kill me if she knew I gave you Donovan’s number. She would kill me if she knew we were talking about the two of them and that I told you what I know.”
“What have you told me?” Beatrice asked, trying to sound coy. “All you’ve said is that they didn’t go to the church carnival together and that you’re worried about her. She told me they broke up, and even though I called, you don’t know any of the details either.”
“I cannot give you his telephone number,” Maria stated.
“Maria, come on, I can just get my neighbor’s ten-year-old to find it on the computer if I have to. Or I can call the Gallup police station and ask.” She paused. “Oh, just give me the number. You know I’m going to find it whether you give it to me or not. And you know that somebody needs to step in and do something about this.” She waited. “Maria, who are we if we are not the good friends who keep the flame of love burning?”
Maria made the sign of the cross over herself again. And then she pulled out the phone book and found the number. She read it out and then said, “You must never tell her that I was involved.” She mumbled something in Spanish and closed the phone book. “If Sister Charlotte knows that I was the one who helped you in this, she will fire me and Gilbert will divorce me.”
“Charlotte will not know that I called you and she can’t fire you, you’re a volunteer.” Bea paused as she finished jotting down the number. “And Gilbert will not divorce you because he knows what a lucky man he is.” She waited and then knew what Maria was doing because Charlotte had told her about the volunteer’s habit of crossing herself when she was nervous. “And stop crossing yourself. God likes it when we step in on love’s behalf. I know because I saw it in a movie.”
And Maria shook her head and rolled her eyes while she heard the phone on the other end hang up.
Margaret’s Cheese Straws
1 pound sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
2 cups flour
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper (or less if desired)
1 stick margarine
1 teaspoon salt
Mix all ingredients well and roll out. Cut into small strips like straws. Bake at 425 degrees until golden brown.
—From Margaret Peele’s recipes
Chapter Twenty-two
Well, fancy meeting you all here!” Louise was passing the cemetery on her way into town when she saw the familiar cars and turned around. She yelled at the women as she was walking toward them.
Jessie, Beatrice, and Charlotte had gone to Margaret’s grave the evening before the ceremony to place flowers and to pay their respects together. They had placed a blanket on the grave and were sitting together enjoying glasses of champagne.
“Preacher Charlotte!” Louise exclaimed as she saw her friend and walked over to her. “What a sight for old eyes you are!”
“Sweet Louise,” Charlotte stood up and said with a grin. “I was hoping you’d make it here before the ceremony.” They hugged tightly as the other women stood.
“Well, something looks different about you,” Beatrice noted, stepping over to greet her friend. “But it’s certainly not because you look like the blushing bride.”
“I guess that’s what happens after a certain age.” Louise smiled and hugged Beatrice.
“Louise, my love, it is sure good to have you home.” Jessie moved over to
greet her friend as well.
“And speaking of blushing brides, you look beautiful,” Louise said, holding out her hands and taking a long look at Jessie, who had just had her hair and nails done. She was glowing.
“It all seems so silly,” Jessie replied, dropping her arms.
“Nothing silly about it,” Louise responded. “I think it’s high time that man gave you a real wedding complete with a fine shindig.”
“You seemed to have done fine without all of the hullabaloo,” Beatrice said.
“Ah, Bea, you still mad I didn’t let you plan a wedding ceremony for me and George?” Louise asked. “That you didn’t get to put together some nice recipes?”
Beatrice shook her head. “I thought our little get-together at Lester’s was quite lovely,” she replied.
“Indeed, it was,” Louise noted. “So, Charlotte, when did you arrive in Hope Springs?” she asked. She walked over and took Charlotte by the hands.
“Yesterday,” she replied. “I’ve been at Mom’s.”
“How is Joyce?” Louise wanted to know. She had not seen Charlotte’s mother in a long time.
“Same, good,” Charlotte answered. “She’s coming to the ceremony tomorrow,” she added.
“How wonderful! I look forward to seeing her again,” Louise said.
“It’s not so much that you look different as it is that you look funny.” Beatrice eyed her friend. “What is wrong with you? ”
Jessie punched Bea in the side with her elbow. “Bea, that’s no way to talk to Louise. Her husband just died.”
“Oh, right,” Bea responded. She kept looking at Louise. “Is that it then?” she asked.
“Is what it?” Louise asked, trying to figure out what Bea was driving at.
“No, that’s not it,” Bea answered herself. “Something is up with you,” she said, studying her. “And it isn’t grief or blushing bride stuff.”
Jessie waved the comment away. “Louise, did you get everything taken care of?” she asked. She knew that their friend had remained in Maryland until all the paperwork had been taken care of. She also knew that George’s daughters had been staying with her since their father’s death.
Louise nodded. “It was all very dignified at the end and everything went smoothly. George and the girls reconciled before he passed and they got everything straightened out. It was all very nice,” she said.
Jessie smiled. “I’m glad you could be a part of that,” she noted.
“You get the house cleaned and emptied out?” Bea asked.
“Went on the market last weekend,” Lou responded, still feeling Bea studying her every move. “Would you quit looking at me like that?” she demanded.
Beatrice eyed her again and then looked away.
“How do you feel?” Charlotte wanted to know.
Louise shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s all still so weird. Me marrying George. Me taking care of Roxie’s husband, being around all of her things. Then me burying him. Being with the girls as we took care of all of the arrangements.” She shook her head.
“She’d have thought it was funny,” Louise added, motioning toward the gravestone. She was talking about Margaret.
Jessie smiled. “She would have laughed her butt off about all of this.” She glanced down at the grave. “That’s why we came, we wanted her to hear everything.”
“Looks like you’re having a picnic,” Louise commented.
“Just a little liquid refreshment, enjoying a toast, you know,” Charlotte noted with a smile. “Will you join us?”
“Of course,” Louise answered.
Charlotte bent down and got another plastic cup from the stack they had just bought from the store. Then she poured some champagne from the bottle. “Cheers,” Charlotte said.
Louise took a sip and smiled. “Cheers to us all,” she responded.
The women picked up their plastic cups as well and took a sip.
Louise drew in a breath and glanced around and then back at Margaret’s grave. “She would have loved that you and James are having a renewal ceremony, Jess. She would have wanted to walk you down the aisle.” Louise moved closer to Jessie. “She may have even bought herself a new dress!”
“Well, let’s not get carried away,” Jessie responded. “Margaret hardly ever bought herself anything,” she added.
“Yeah, but Louise is right,” Charlotte said. “She would have splurged for this occasion. She would have loved this.” She cleared her throat and knelt down to touch the top of the headstone.
The women were silent for a few minutes.
“I miss her so much,” Charlotte said, choking back tears. “Sometimes I just wish I could hear her voice, you know?”
Jessie dropped her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “We all miss her.”
“I came out here the night before I left with George,” Louise confessed. “I brought my lounge chair and just sat here talking to her for the longest time. The preacher even came out to check on me.”
The women looked at Louise and laughed, recalling how she had done the same thing when Roxie died.
“You weren’t drunk, were you?” Charlotte asked, remembering how Louise had taken a thermos of whiskey to Roxie’s grave.
“No, not this time,” she replied. “Although I did bring a martini and pour it over her on her birthday,” she added with a smile. “Margaret told me she liked vodka martinis when she was young.”
“She told me it was margaritas,” Jessie said. “So that’s what I brought her.”
Charlotte laughed. “What about you, Bea? Did you douse the grave with some hooch too?”
Beatrice was still studying Louise. She wasn’t paying attention to the conversation.
“Bea.” Jessie nudged her.
“What?” she asked, suddenly noticing how everyone was staring at her. “What?” she asked again.
“Nothing,” Charlotte replied.
The women were silent again. A few cars passed on the road beside the cemetery, and they would look up to see if they recognized anyone.
“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” Bea asked.
“What?” Louise shouted back.
“George,” she replied. “Did you have sex with him?”
“Beatrice,” Jessie yelled. “That is none of your business!”
Charlotte started to laugh. She sat down on the grave and leaned her back against the headstone. “This I got to hear,” she said, looking toward Louise. She took her cup and drank a sip of champagne.
Louise glanced at Charlotte and then back to Beatrice. “Bea, I did not have sex with George. He was terminally ill,” she noted. “And I’m gay,” she added. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, kicking some dirt toward her friend.
Beatrice kept watching her. “Something is different, funny,” she said again. “So, if it wasn’t sex, what is it?” she asked.
“Beatrice, will you leave Louise alone?” Jessie said. “She’s just buried her best friend’s husband and handled his estate. She’s just driven from Maryland, for heaven’s sake. She’s tired.”
“She’s more than tired,” Bea noted.
“I thought you gave up those cable stations,” Lou said to Bea. “Didn’t your mailman turn you in?”
“Eldon did not turn me in. He just delivered the bill,” she said defensively.
“And how much was that bill?” Jessie wanted to know.
Beatrice took her eyes away from Louise and turned to Jessie. “It was a lot,” she answered. “I’m paying it in installments,” she added. “And Dick doesn’t know.”
Louise laughed. “And you think I’m the one hiding something?” she needled her friend. “You think I have a secret?”
“Yes, I do,” Bea replied, turning back to Louise.
“Man, do I miss all of this,” Charlotte said with a big grin. “I love those women at St. Mary’s, but none of them are as funny as you two.” She pulled her legs up and crossed them at the knees.
Jessie and Louise glanced at each
other and then sat down beside Charlotte. Beatrice remained standing over them.
“You remember what Margaret used to say about having secrets?” Jessie asked, leaning against the grave marker.
“Secrets are like babies and spring flowers. It may take a long time, but sooner or later, they pop out.” Louise and Charlotte recited the saying together. They looked at each other and laughed.
Louise looked up at her friend. “Beatrice, sit down here with us.”
Beatrice sighed. “I can’t. I have on a new pair of panty hose,” she said.
“And you’re worried you’ll get them dirty?” Charlotte asked. “That’s why we have the blanket.”
“No, I’m worried that I will split them,” Beatrice replied. “I had to buy a size too small because that was all they had at the boutique.”
“Get your butt down here with the rest of us.” Louise tugged on the hem of Beatrice’s dress.
Beatrice carefully lowered herself to sit on the ground with her friends. “I don’t understand why we can’t sit on chairs like normal people,” she complained.
“Because, Beatrice, you can call this group a lot of things, but normal is not one of them.” Louise laughed and slapped her friend on the back.
“Now, Pastor Charlotte.” Louise turned to the young woman. “What is going on with you and the new man we keep hearing about?”
Beatrice snapped her head toward Charlotte to hear the answer. Charlotte immediately noticed the reaction and waited before responding. She watched Beatrice suspiciously and then turned back to Louise. “There’s nothing to tell,” she replied. “We broke up,” she added.
“Ah, honey,” Jessie said, taking Charlotte by the hand. “I hadn’t heard.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Louise said, reaching over and patting her on the leg.
“It’s okay,” Charlotte said. “I just don’t think a long-term relationship is in my cards.”
“Why would you think that?” Jessie asked, surprised to hear her friend’s comment.
Charlotte shrugged. “I just think I do better on my own, you know? It’s complicated trying to work at the women’s shelter and have a relationship.” She pulled a blade of grass from the ground next to her.
