Runabout (5 page)

}"You've got to see it, son. I've finally set up a place of my own in the basement. It's small, but it has almost everything: rubber wands, a rowing device, chest pulleys, even a punching bag with gloves. And I just got the new Whiteley Exerciser from the catalog last week. It's much superior to dead weights. Just try it; the manufacturer says you can double the strength of your chest muscles in just eight weeks."

}"My chest muscles are fine," Luther assured him.

}The preacher shook his head. "The body and mind must be in top condition for the soul to prosper."

}Luther smiled with amused affection at the minister. Physical culture proponents such as Tuke, Jahn, and Sandborne figured almost as largely in the preacher's day-to-day philosophy as did the teachings of the apostles. Ever since the afternoon, nearly ten years ago, when Cora Sparrow gave the preacher her copy of Daisy Millenbutter's
A Ladies' Guide to Good Health, Fine Posture, and Spiritual Completeness,
Reverend Bruder had been as busy converting the lazy to exertion as he was the sinning to righteousness.

}Luther was saved from a further discussion by Mrs. Bruder's entrance into the foyer from the rear parlor.

}"Luther, dear boy!" she exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "What a delight that you've come to visit." Casting a disapproving glance at her husband, Mrs. Bruder made a face. "Philemon, really! Go wash up and change. We have company."

}Constance Bruder was a kind and loving wife and a hard-working matron in the church and community. Luther wondered, however, if Mrs. Bruder had ever had a maternal bone in her body. The year that he had lived with her, she had treated both Arthel and himself like welcome strangers. Not for one moment had she offered even the slightest crumb of motherly care. But it was nothing personal. Miz Constance didn't seem to comfort or understand her own daughter. So how could anyone expect her to really warm up to two half-grown boys?

}"Please make yourself presentable," Constance directed her husband. "Familiarity is no excuse for informality."

}"Oh no, please." Luther stayed the preacher hastily. "Not on my account. I've just come to sit on the porch with Tulsy."

}Both of Tulsa May's parents turned to stare at the young man as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

}"Sit on the porch with Tulsa May?" Mrs. Bruder's voice sounded puzzled.

}"What in the world would you want to do that for?" the preacher asked baldly.

}Luther sucked his cheeks in slightly as he controlled the spark of annoyance that he felt. "I've come to call on Tulsy." He spoke each word slowly and clearly.

}"To call?"

}"On Tulsa May?"

}The totally incredulous expressions of the couple worried Luther. Was Tulsa May right? Was this little drama he intended to enact going to be more difficult than he'd imagined?

}

}Tulsa May stared at the large oval mirror that stood in the corner of her bedroom next to her dresser. She turned her face, first right profile, then left, then looked at herself straight on. There was no help for it. She still had a long skinny face, a gap between her front teeth, and carrot-colored hair.

}She wondered, not for the first time, what God had been thinking about when he'd created her. Each and every physical trait she had came from her father's side of the family. And while those traits looked fine on her daddy, on Tulsa May they fell far short of the accepted standard of beauty.

}She deliberately forced away any self-pity. "Just be grateful you don't have his moustache!" she told her mirror image with a sternness that was spoiled by a giggle.

}With a shake of her head at her own foolishness, she glanced up at the rack of hats that hung on her wall. Tulsa May was not overly fond of clothing or accessories, but she loved her millinery. Her mother once accused her of having two dozen hats. Tulsa May was grateful that Mrs. Bruder had never checked the boxes beneath the bed or she would have seen twice that many. Hats were Tulsa May's one true weakness and strongest temptation. But she never scolded herself for it.

}If God hadn't wanted her to buy hats, she told herself, he wouldn't have given her orange hair.

}Tonight she chose a tiny Venice bonnet that sat squarely on the top of her head. Its dark green velvet facing and bow was accented by a darker silk lace and a jetted aigrette that poked jauntily from the back. It was a charming hat, but its most important feature was that it easily drew the eye away from her unfortunately colored hair.

}She attached the Venice bonnet securely with two long jet pins and fiddled momentarily with the arrangement of velvet and lace. Looking back into the mirror, she smiled with pleasure. That image quickly faded as she purposely closed her lips to cover her less than perfect smile. Tulsa May checked her reflection again. Yes, that was better, she assured herself. If she could just remember to keep her lips closed to cover the gap in her teeth, her chin down to shorten her face, her hair would be decently covered and she would be passable.

}Not that she really cared much for herself, she was quick to remember. She had fought that demon in childhood and had come through being pleased at what heaven
had
given her, rather than longing for those things that passed her by. But, poor Luther, she thought. He was undoubtedly accustomed to being with more attractive women and she knew that mattered to a man. At least it had mattered to Odie Foote.

}"A woman is a symbol of a man's success," her mother had warned her. "It's all well and good to be sweet and kind and smart, but a man wants something pretty on his arm."

}Tulsa May had managed to ignore her mother's philosophy and advice for a long time. But it began to seem as if Dr. Foote agreed with her.

}"I understand," he had told her one night in the quiet privacy of the front parlor, "that it is proper for a woman to appear suitably drab when she is working for wages." He cleared his throat before he continued. "But you must allow yourself to shine youthfully when I call upon you."

}Dr. Foote's idea of youthful shine included bows and furbelows and pale pastel colors. Her mother had dressed her in that fashion for more than a dozen years, but the pretty dresses and fancy ribbons that looked so appealing on other young women made Tulsa May look and feel ridiculous. Neither her mother nor Odie could ever quite understand that.

}Well, she thought, they had had their way. With the doctor and her mother in collusion, Tulsa May had been forced into a betrothal gown of rose pink ruffles. She gave herself a disgusted expression in the mirror. Perhaps it was the sight of her in that dress that had made Odie run from the engagement party as if his coattails were on fire.

}Downstairs she could hear the sounds of conversation and guessed rightly that Luther had arrived at last. He was such a dear, such a friend. This silly plan of his was sure not to work, but the fact that he devised it was a sweet and generous favor.

}"You are just full of ambition," she'd told him on one long-ago summer day as he polished the Runabout in the drive in front of the carriage house at the Briggs Mansion. "With all the plans and ideas you have, you're sure to do important things in your life."

}He smiled at her. "Do you know what my biggest ambition is?" he asked.

}She shook her head.

}"To see that my Tulsy is the happiest girl in Prattville."

}She had giggled. "Aiming low, are you?" she asked. "You know there is not a happier soul in town than sunny, smiling Tulsa May."

}His eyes had been warm as he nodded in agreement. "And it's my job as your 'almost brother' to see that you stay that way."

}And he had done his best, she conceded. Even now that they were both all grown-up, he was still as dear to her as ever.

}A smile came to Tulsa May's lips as she imagined the consternation of the young ladies at church. She almost giggled. When they found out that Luther Briggs was courting her, green would be the most common complexion color in the congregation.

}A strange, anxious thrill swept through her, causing Tulsa May's heart to beat more quickly. Luther Briggs would be courting her. Immediately she tamped down the delight that skittered in her veins. None of this was real. It was pretend and it was a favor.

}Besides, she was absolutely certain that friendship with Luther Briggs was far superior to a grand passion for him. He was sure to be a heartbreaker. And her heart was far too fragile already.

}With a last shake of her narrow brown skirt and a careful straightening of the dark green piping on her shirtwaist, Tulsa May hurried down to meet her new and hopefully very temporary gentleman caller.

}"Chin down, lips closed, hat in place," she reminded herself aloud.

}

}As Tulsa May reached the landing a few minutes later, she heard her father's voice.

}"Well, of course you have my permission, son," he said, his tone incredulous. "It's not a question of that. It's—"

}Tulsa May was left to wonder about the rest of that sentence. For at that moment Luther glanced up and smiled broadly, interrupting Reverend Bruder. "Tulsy," he called out delightedly. "What a prompt pigeon you are. Most of the girls I call on make me wait half an hour."

}Tulsa May rolled her eyes dramatically. Completely forgetting her own admonitions, she raised her chin high and smiled broadly. "Well, I wouldn't want to appear too eager," she said. "Do you think I should go back upstairs and make you wait thirty minutes?"

}There was a small huff of disapproval from Constance Bruder, but both young people ignored it.

}"My dear Miss Bruder," Luther said, making a courtly bow. "I would much rather spend that time sitting with you."

}The reverend seemed ill at ease and puzzled, but his wife gazed at her daughter and young Mr. Briggs hopefully.

}"Well, I don't know about this. I—" Reverend Bruder began.

}"Leave the young people alone; Philemon," Constance scolded him in a sugar-sweet tone that was as hard as maple candy, then she turned and smiled a much too friendly smile. "Young Luther has always been almost family. The reverend will sit in the front parlor. Luther, you may take our little Tulsa May out to the swing for a bit of privacy, but no leaving the porch. I'll bring some refreshments."

}Little
Tulsa May was horrified. Her mother was acting every inch the prospective mother-in-law, and Tulsa was tempted to set her straight immediately. As if sensing the impending confession, Luther reached for her hand and gave her a playful wink.

}"We will sit on the swing, ma'am," he assured her. "Right in front of the parlor window. And we will certainly call for a chaperon if we decide to take a turn in the garden."

}Miz Constance smiled with sickening sweetness.

}With his arm offered in grand fashion, Luther hurried Tulsa May out onto the porch.

}"That was the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard," she whispered to him disgustedly. "Has my mother lost her mind? For heaven's sake, we've been out alone together in the Runabout probably a hundred times!"