Authors: Rita Mae Brown
“Not a bad idea,” I said.
“I’ve got the most marvelous idea.” Mr. Pierre had the phone in his hand. “Let’s call Diz Rife and ask him.”
“You’re going to call Diz?” Michelle couldn’t believe it.
“Why not? You all are going to be strange bedfellows. Think
about it.” Mr. Pierre reached Diz on the phone and a spirited discussion developed which I couldn’t hear because Louise had the bad grace to call my mother a trollop and Mother replied that Louise was a tart. Then Louise said that she wasn’t speaking to Mother and Mother was becoming paranoid thinking everything was being said about her and everyone was talking about her—either she was paranoid or she had a big head. This was said distinctly and with vigor to Verna, who was noncommittal. Mother said that as long as we were on a psychological tack, some people had persecution complexes: They persecuted other people, meaning herself.
Diz Rife’s splendid Aston-MartinVolante circled the farm. He couldn’t find a place to park at the house and pulled over on the side of the road.
Before he could knock on the door Mr. Pierre opened it and invited him in.
“Diz, you like omelets?” Mother asked.
“I like anything you make, Julia.”
Mother, charmed, applied herself to the omelets with renewed energy. As she beat the eggs Verna tossed in cheese and whatever else she’d cut up on the butcher block.
“Nickel, can Pewter eat raw egg?”
“I don’t know why not. She eats everything else.”
That got a laugh from the group. Diz was handed coffee by Louise, ushered to a chair by Ed, and immediately buttonholed by Decca, who wanted to know if he really was the richest man in the world.
“Diz, we’re starting another paper.” Charles met the issue head-on.
“That’s what Mr. Pierre mentioned over the phone.”
“What do you think?” I called over my shoulder. Louise had me cutting out biscuits.
“I think competition is the life of trade,” he said. “You can’t use the name
Clarion
, though, and you can’t say founded in 1710.”
“No, but we can say, ‘In the same two families since 1710,’ ” Charles parried.
“Yeah, I guess you can. Can’t call it the
Trumpet
either, since the
Trumpet
was incorporated into the
Clarion
. What are you going to call it?” He leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head.
“Why not
Mercury
? He is the god of communication, is he not?” Mr. Pierre offered us the idea.
“I like that!”Arnie was enthusiastic.
Charles shrugged. “Why not?”
“Okay by me,” I said.
“Me too,” Michelle chimed in.
Louise cast her vote. “It’s sacrilegious.”
“Why?” Verna wanted to know.
“Pagan stuff.” Louise’s lower lip jutted outward. She was wearing her cerise lipstick shade again which ran up the cracks of her upper lip. “All those naked statues.” She shook her head.
“We’re talking about a newspaper, not sculpture.” Arnie laughed.
“I had my say-so and that’s that.” Louise was really pouting now.
“Mercury it is.” Charles was final.
Before Wheezie could create a scene, I said, “You know, Aunt Wheezie knows everybody and everything. She ought to have some kind of social column in the
Mercury
.”
Charles, blindsided by the suggestion, hemmed and hawed.
Diz, teasingly, said, “Maybe the
Clarion
should have her.” He was enjoying the idea of having a rival.
Wheezie fluttered, but before she could say anything else Mother whispered, “Exhale, blowfish.”
Louise, batter bowl in hand, threatened: “I am not speaking to you. And you will never be mentioned in my column.”
“Uh, Mrs. Trumbull”—a formal note in his voice, Charles held out the palm—“I think you belong at the
Mercury
. The Hunsenmeirs and the Falkenroths are a team, you know.”
“Why—yes.” Louise was as happy as I have ever seen her.
I knew in my heart that she would dictate that damned column to me, but I’d had worse assignments in my day.
The breakfast party lasted the whole day. Verna, Mother, and Mr. Pierre ran down to Mutzi’s for more food for lunch and supper, and then Mutzi joined us too. We called David Wheeler and he showed up with his wife, who kindly brought a covered dish. Diz made a trip to the liquor store and that was a huge success. The whole Frost family came over and I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be about that. By nighttime, we gathered around Cora’s upright to sing. Mother suggested a game of Crap on Your Neighbor for those not interested in singing.
I don’t know what came over me but I asked Diz if he would be my baby’s godfather. He said he would and that he was deeply sorry he wasn’t the baby’s father. I also asked Jack, for obvious reasons and for the not-so-obvious reason that it would force him and Diz to cooperate about one thing in their lives.
Mr. Pierre, many martinis later, confessed he was nervous about marriage.
Decca asked her mother: “Why do people get married?”
Verna answered, “So they don’t have to eat alone.”
Mr. Pierre cleared his throat. “This is as good a time as any. Nickel and I will be married tomorrow, high noon at Christ Lutheran.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Louise shrieked.” We thought it might upset you—this being a hasty courtship,” I fibbed.
“Hasty? You’ve known him half your life. There’s no time to have a shower.”
“I thought you were against this marriage?” Mother said.” I am but that’s no reason not to give a party and I am not speaking to you!”
Michelle came up to me and whispered, “Are you going through with it?”
I nodded and whispered, “It’ll be okay.” Louise thumped to
one side of the room and Juts to the other, thereby creating two camps. I clapped my hands for silence. “Mother, Aunt Wheeze, in honor of my marriage, I want you two to make up now. I refuse to have you all spoil the wedding.”
“Why’d you wait until the last minute to tell? I’m kept in the dark about everything.” Louise was close to tears.
“Darling,” Mr. Pierre crooned, “it’s been so hectic and unexpected. We didn’t mean to slight you.”
“When did Julia know?”
“Yesterday,” Mom replied, “so I haven’t known that long.” She lied, as we’d told her Wednesday morning.
“Don’t rush me. I haven’t made up with you yet!”
“Aunt Wheezie, come on.”
Louise turned to Mr. Pierre. “And why are you marrying her? You don’t even know her bloodlines. What if she has hereditary insanity? You could have married
me
!”
Eyes focused on Mr. Pierre. He gallantly walked over to her. “When I met you, you were married to Pearlie Trumbull. You were off-limits. Fascinating. Magical looking. Those bones.” He indicated her facial bones.” But off-limits. Then as years went on we became as sister and brother. How could we get married?”
Louise was having none of it. “Easily enough! Julia trapped Ed and now Nickel trapped you with the oldest trick in the business.”
“I was not trapped.” Ed spoke with such authority he startled everyone. “A person can’t explain these things. Julia’s the girl for me. It’s a feeling. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”
Louise would have preferred that Ed remain strong and silent—especially silent. She wailed, “No one’s going to marry me. No one’s going to love me.”
Naturally, everyone except Mother crowded around Louise. At the edges of the gathering people racked their brains for a man, any man still breathing, who could be produced for Louise.
Jack edged over to me. “Damn you! I don’t want to share the baby with Diz.”
“You’re going to. I know what I’m doing—for all of us. You two have got to bury the hatchet.”
“In my back. That’s where it will get buried.”
“O ye of little faith.” I touched his shoulder but he remained mad.
A
s the eleven-o’clock-service worshippers filed out, the wedding party filed in. I thought this would be a tiny wedding with myself, Mr. Pierre, Mom, and Louise, but everyone from the paper came, the bingo gang, my stable and hunt club buddies, and many of Mr. Pierre’s customers.
According to tradition I had not seen my groom since last night. Regina volunteered to be my matron of honor. We sat in one of the back rooms rehashing Louise’s extraordinary confession. We both felt sorry for her, even if she was being a pill.
Decca BonBon stuck her head in the door and told us that Ursie Yost was in attendance. So were Pewter, Lolly Mabel, and Goodyear. They were as close to me as my human friends. The pastor balked but I won him over. If God made all creatures, then those creatures should be welcome in his house of worship.
Regina and I laughed over Mother leaving Goodyear on the Square the night of blackout bingo. I’d taken the dog home with me. It was an indication of Mom’s emotional state. She hadn’t been separated from her dog since the minute he was born.
The longer we waited the more nervous I became. I thought I was doing the right thing but how do you know? All decisions are based on insufficient evidence.
“Stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy,” Regina said.
“Was I pacing?”
“Here, sit down next to me. There’s something about ceremonial
moments in life that bring out the best in people. Do you remember my wedding?”
“I was your maid of honor and I told you I was scared for you. I should have kept my big mouth shut.”
“You were honest. I was scared too. The social pressure around a wedding is enough to make anyone nuts. It’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life. I was glad to get it over with. My one regret is that I didn’t finish college, but I’ve never regretted marrying Jack. He’s not perfect but neither am I and neither are you. We muddle through somehow.” Her cheeks glowed. She could have been the bride. “Now is there anything you want to tell me?”
A bolt of fear ripped into my side. “Like what? You know everything there is to know about me.”
“Like who is the father of the baby. I’m not dumb, you know. It’s one of the two godfathers and I think it’s Jack. You have a logical mind. You would reason that the natural father would want to spend as much time with his baby as he could without arousing suspicion. If you named one man the godfather, that would be too obvious. Two will keep them guessing.” Her tone of voice was matter-of-fact.
“You aren’t giving me any credit for trying to build a truce between them.”
“Oh, yes, I give you credit for that but I don’t give you credit for not telling me the truth.”
“How could I?!” I blurted out. She had me. Why try to back out of it?
“You know, the funny thing, Nickie, is that I’m not really hurt by the fact that you slept with Jack. I’m hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell me.”
“I feel terrible. I was wrong to start up with him in the first place but I don’t see how telling you would have made it any better or easier. Why rub your face in it? Why cause you pain? I never lied to you. I didn’t say anything, that’s all. If the situation were reversed, what would you have done?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to think that I’d tell you.”
My hands were shaking. “You’re taking this with more good grace than I could muster.”
“Well.” She paused for a long time. “Men are different from women and I know that and I know Jack. This is going to sound odd but I expect less of men than of women. Jack hasn’t been one hundred percent faithful over these twenty-two years. I don’t applaud him for that, mind you, but he’s got his frailties. He tries to do the right thing, and most times he succeeds.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the affairs?”
“They didn’t seem that important. I chalked them up to his fear of getting older, and—forgive me for sounding conceited—I never thought he’d find a woman to replace me. But you—you were something else again. Apart from your history, there’s the element of conquest. You know how crazy men get around lesbians. I never thought he’d leave me for you but I knew this affair wasn’t superficial for him. I knew he was torn.”
“Do you hate me?” My voice was barely audible.
“No. I can understand how any woman would fall for Jack. What hurts me is that you did it behind my back. If you had come to me we could have worked it out. It would have been painful but it would have been clean.”
“I’m sorry. What can I say except I’m sorry? I told Jack and Mr. Pierre that I would tell you. I figured after the baby—sometime.” I breathed deeply. “Does Jack know you know?”
“I told him last night after the party. He was stunned but he didn’t back down. The difference between you and Jack is he didn’t say he was sorry. He profusely apologized for the other woman but he didn’t apologize for you. He said that he’s in love with you and that he’s in love with me. He also said that you broke it off and you’re sticking to your guns.” She sighed. “It’s confusing, isn’t it? I’m not mad at either of you, really. Maybe I’m too old for that stuff. Maybe I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t believe that love is a controlled substance. You can’t outlaw it or confine it within the bonds of matrimony. It wasn’t as if you stole anything
from me. I don’t own him. I don’t want to own him. You didn’t do this to get even with me and neither did he. It happened. These things happen.”