Small Town Girl (32 page)

Someone tried the door.

Judy picked up her purse, but Tess grabbed her arm.

"Let me go." Judy tried to pull away, refusing to meet Tess's eyes.

"In a minute. I'm going to tell you something first. If you were happier with yourself you'd be happier with others as well. Think about it."

The woman outside banged on the door. "Hey, who's in there?"

Judy yanked her arm free and glared at her younger sister. "Why don't you just go back where you came from?" she said venomously. "The rest of us can take care of Momma and do a lot better job of it, too."

The lock clacked open and the door slammed against the tile wall as Judy stormed out.

Tess stayed behind, struggling to compose herself. Though she was trembling and tears were threatening, she smiled falsely at the pair of women who came in looking curiously at her. When they saw who it was they decided not to go into the stalls, but to fuss first at the mirror. Tess withdrew a lipstick and powder from her bag and put them to use. Her cheeks held blotches of bright pink while an unflattering flush had mottled her neck.

"I really like your shoes," one of the women said.

"Thank you."

"Are you going to sing with the band tonight?" the other asked.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not."

"Oh, shoot."

She tucked away her makeup, snapped her handbag shut and hid anything personal from these strangers. Her smile said
Sorry to disappoint you
, while she offered her customary response to this common request. "You can hear me anytime on the MCA label."

By the time Tess returned to the table the band had started playing and Judy and Ed were gone. So was everyone else except Mary, who inquired, "What went on in the ladies' room anyway? Judy nearly pulled Ed's arm out of his socket getting him out of here."

"I told her what I thought of her jealousy, and Momma, so help me, if you claim one more time that Judy isn't jealous, I'm going to take your wine away, which is probably what I should do anyway!"

"You're too late. Kenny and Faith already cut me off."

"Where are they?"

"Dancing. Everybody is. They all suddenly decided to get up and go out on the dance floor when Judy came roaring out of that bathroom like a wounded rhinoceros and hauled her family home. What is it about weddings that starts so many family feuds?"

Angry tears sprouted in Tess's eyes. "Momma, I just wasn't going to take any more of Judy's shit. She's your daughter, too, and I know you love her, and I'm not asking you to do anything else, but I've been hurt by her so many times, and it's all because she's got such low self-esteem that she can't handle any aspect of my success. It's all
right
for Judy to get up and leave the room when anybody treats me like a star, but it's
not
all right for me to call her on it, because that makes me egotistical! Well, I took it, Momma, without saying a word, but no more! Tonight she cut you off when you were excited about your earrings, then she did the same thing to Casey when she was excited about going to Nashville. Now, I ask you, who is small and who isn't?"

Mary sighed and rubbed the back of Tess's fist on the tabletop. "I've been thinking about it since the first Sunday you were home when all you kids were at the house together, and I know you're right. She left the living room as soon as you and Casey started singing. And I've seen other evidence that I just didn't want to believe. Judy's awful good to me, you know."

"Of course she is, Momma, but this isn't about whether or not she's good to you."

"No… no, it isn't."

"You know what would help her a lot? If she got on a good weight-loss program and started taking more pride in her appearance."

"I know, but who's going to tell her so?"

"Not me."

"Not me, either."

"I came as close to telling her as I ever will, five minutes ago in the bathroom."

"She looked nice tonight," Mary said wistfully.

"She looked very nice tonight. But she'd look better if she lost some weight."

Renee interrupted at that moment, arriving breathless from the dance floor and bracing both hands on the table-top. She looked particularly radiant in an apricot dress with a lace bodice and a sheer skirt. "What happened to Judy and Ed?" she inquired.

Tess confessed, "My fault. I got into it with Judy in the bathroom about you know what."

"So she stomped off home?"

"And took Ed and Tricia, too. I'm sorry, Renee."

Renee straightened up, lifted the hair off her hot neck, and said, "Hey, you know what? It's Judy's problem, not ours. And I'm not going to let her spoil my daughter's wedding for me. Now, listen… the bride and groom sent me over to talk to you. They're getting so many requests from their guests that they told me to ask if you'll sing just one song with the band. They said to tell you that if you say yes they'll give you their firstborn."

"Just what I need is a firstborn."

"What do you say?"

"I've been telling everyone all night long that I'm not singing."

"Not even at the bride and groom's request? It would mean so much to them, Tess. Come on," she cajoled.

Tess glanced at the dance floor. Rachel and Brent were half dancing, watching Tess with hopeful expressions on their faces. Tess knew that if she sang it would make their wedding the talk of the very limited social season in Ripley County.

Renee said, "I suspect part of the reason you didn't want to sing was Judy. Now that she's out of the way, what other excuse have you got?"

"You sure it's all right with the band?"

"Are you kidding? What band wouldn't want to say they backed up Tess McPhail?"

"All right. Just one song."

Renee gave the bride and groom a thumbs-up, and they hugged in jubilation, then Rachel blew Tess a kiss and went to the foot of the stage and spoke to the lead guitarist while he continued to play.

At the next song break the band immediately announced, "Everyone knows we have a famous Nashville star with us tonight. She's the bride's aunt, and she's agreed to come up and do a song with us. Hey, everybody, let's make her welcome… Tess McPhail!"

The crowd parted for her, and she went up on the stage with a confident stride, cueing the band on the way. "Can you give me 'Cattin' in G?"

The drummer said, "You got it, Mac," and gave them a four-beat cue on the rim of his snare.

When the rhythm broke and she grabbed the mike she took two hundred hearts captive on the spot. They applauded so loudly they drowned out the first twelve bars of the music, then spontaneously resumed dancing, their faces lifted to her all the while.

She gave Wintergreen something to talk about for the next ten years, planting her glittering high heels as far apart as her straight dress would allow, keeping rhythm with her right knee and sending blue jets shooting from her rhinestones. She forgot about Judy and became one with her audience, giving them a performance filled with energy and rhythm. "Cattin' " had a rock beat and slightly naughty words. She used her hands and long flashing nails like a sorcerer to put her audience under her spell. She had an innate sense of drama and played the crowd like an actress, using eye contact and a hint of flirtatiousness to make each listener believe she was singing exclusively for her or him.

Suddenly Kenny was below her, dancing with Casey, both of them smiling up at her, having fun.

She pointed at Casey. "… gonna dress in satin…"

And at Kenny. "… gonna go out cattin' with youuuuu."

She winked and he laughed, then her attention shifted smoothly to others in the crowd. She knew how to make her eyes glitter with promise and how to hold a hand mike so that the men imagined it was they, close to her lips, and the women imagined they were as alluring and confident as Tess McPhail. There were songs she sang to women; this was not one of them, but the women in the audience didn't seem to care. When the song ended they applauded as enthusiastically as the men. Casey stuck her fingers between her teeth and whistled like a cattle drover. Renee yelled, "
All right, sis!"
The bride and groom clapped and accepted remarks from those around them while a general chant went up.

"
Mac! Mac! Mac
!"

It pulsed through the room.

Taking her bow, Tess made sure she caught her mother's eye. Mary was applauding proudly from her wheelchair by the dinner table, and Tess felt particularly warmed by the pride she sensed radiating from Mary. Scanning the faces below, she caught impressions of townspeople she'd forgotten—ex-teachers, store owners, Renee's and Judy's friends, long-time neighbors, people from church, everyone still applauding, calling for more. The bride and groom made their way to the foot of the stage, their faces lifted. "Please do one more, Aunt Tess… please!" Rachel begged.

She sang one more, a slow one for the newly married couple.

"I've never recorded this song," she announced, "but I've always loved it, especially at weddings. Rachel and Brent, this one's for you."

She sang a moving rendition of "Could I Have This Dance for the Rest of My Life" and watched the swirl of partners gliding past. Renee waltzed by with Jim. The groom had his bride. Packer had one of the bridesmaids. Mindy Alverson Petroski was with her husband, the appliance store owner. And Kenny danced by with Faith.

They'd have kept Tess on the stage even longer, but after the second song she thanked the band, gave a farewell flourish and replaced the mike on the stand.

A dozen people complimented her on her way back to the table, and more came after she got there. Mary was flushed with pride, and said, "Honey, you sure knocked 'em dead. I don't know where you got a voice like that, but it sure wasn't from me." People were very kind, coming by one after the other to thank her for singing and to offer the usual platitudes.

Enid Copley and a bunch of Mary's friends came and Mary found herself the center of attention, the mother of the girl who did good.

But a phenomenon happened that sometimes occurred after Tess had sung. Once she'd done so she became such a superstar that the people, fearful of offending her, kept their distance. They came by, said something quickly so they could claim they'd spoken to her, then hustled away, leaving her lonely in the crowd. Casey was in another part of the hall, hanging out with the kids her age. Renee and Jim were having the time of their lives. If Ed were here, she might have danced with him, but he was gone. Nobody was going to ask the famous Tess McPhail to dance, so she was left with Mary, who never lacked for company.

Two teenage girls approached and shyly asked if Tess would sign a paper napkin, which she did. Mrs. Perry, who'd lived across the street when Tess was little, turned from Mary to remind Tess how she had loved the English toffee she used to make at Christmastime, and how Tess had once abashed Mary by knocking on Mrs. Perry's door and asking if she could have some. It was an old story that had been repeated every time she'd run into Mrs. Perry since she was in elementary school. They talked about the Perry kids, where they were now, what they did for a living, then the woman rejoined the older group.

"Mom, you let me know when you're ready to go home," Tess said.

"Pretty soon," Mary replied, but she and Enid Copley and Mrs. Perry and the others were still deep in conversation.

One song ended, another began, and Kenny came off the dance floor alone, snagged the chair next to Tess and dropped onto it, facing her. He looked warm from dancing. His suit coat hung open and he had loosened his tie and freed his collar button. He reached for his glass, took a drink, propped an elbow on the table and said, "Great wedding."

"You look like you're having fun."

"I am."

"Where did you leave Faith?"

"Dancing with her brother-in-law. How come you're not dancing?"

"Nobody asked me."

He glanced around, let his eyes return to her, and said, "Well, we can't have that, can we? Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love it."

He took her hand and walked her onto the dance floor. The band was playing "The Chair" as she swung lightly into his arms in the traditional waltz pose.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she said at his ear.

"What's wrong with the guys around here anyway?"

"They get a little spooked by me. Happens all the time. You're a good dancer."

"Thanks. So are you. And a helluva terrific singer. They all loved you."

"Thanks. I was watching you with Casey from the stage. It's nice to see a father and daughter having fun like that."

"I'm going to miss her when she goes to Nashville."

"I know you will."

"But, Lord, Tess, you've made her so happy. You know that, don't you?" He leaned back so he could see her face.

"Makes me happy, too.'"

"Thanks for all you're doing for her."

"That's got to be hard for you to say."

"It's one of those stepping-stones a parent faces. Maybe I've grown up a little bit since you came home."

They spent some pleasurable moments gazing at close range, flirting silently in plain sight of two hundred people. When it became too obvious, he tightened his arm till their bodies brushed, and her temple rested against his jaw. She recognized the smell of his cologne coming off his warm skin and thought about Renee's admonition to stay away from him. But it felt right, shuffling around the rim of the dimly lit floor in his arms. She had few opportunities to dance anymore. Ironically, creating the music to which others danced robbed her of the chance to enjoy it this way.

"I have something to thank you for, too," she told him. "What you said to my mother when you came to the door to get her this afternoon. I'd told her the same thing, but coming from a man, it meant more."

He glanced Mary's way through the crowd. "She does look great, doesn't she?"

"See? That's what I mean—your response was so genuine that it lit her up like a Christmas tree. She's seventy-four years old, and her hips have been replaced and her face is getting jowly and her hair is getting thin, but when you came to the door and caught your breath you made her feel beautiful."