The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake (38 page)
“You packed for warm weather, right?”
Peggy and I had spent all day Thursday at the Silverthorne outlets shopping for my honeymoon trousseau. “I did.”
“Did you pack a bikini?” he teased.
I pulled the cover over my head. “I did not.” The very notion was enough to upset my sensibilities. “Vernon?” I said finally.
“Yes, Mrs. Vesey?”
“I have to go now. Today is, as you may know, my wedding day.”
He chuckled, and we ended the call. I had no sooner replaced the phone to its receiver than Peggy bustled into my room, looking radiant for so early in the day. I peeked one eye at her. “Good morning, sister dear,” I said.
Peggy waltzed to a nearby window and jerked open the thick chenille drapes. A ray of sunshine, muted by the sheers behind the draperies, shot through the room. “Happy is the bride the sun shines on,” she sang.
I pushed myself up in the bed as Matthew came in, dressed in his pj’s and a maroon satin robe and carrying a heavy silver tray laden with Mama’s silver coffee service and two bone china cups and saucers. “For the bride and her sister,” he announced.
Peggy turned from the window. “Put it on the dresser, Matthew.”
Matthew was obedient as a butler. I giggled.
Peggy waved him out of the room. “I can handle it from here,” she said, then began to pour our coffee.
I smiled at her. “Thank you, Peggy,” I said. “You are making this day all the more special.”
She presented me with my cup of coffee. “We’ve got until this afternoon before we have to start getting you dressed and ready. With that new haircut you only have to shampoo and gel.” She turned toward the closet, where my gown hung on an outside hook from the top of the door. “Oh, Evangeline. You are going to be the most stunning bride.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “I have to admit, I did a good job picking this out.” I widened my eyes. “I went out all by myself and bought it. I want it to be a surprise for everyone.”
Peggy turned and smiled at me, then walked over to the dresser and prepared her own cup of coffee. “So, what do you want to do as we ready ourselves for this day of days?”
I set my coffee cup and saucer on my bedside table and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “There’s something I need to take care of first thing. Then, I suppose... relax until time to panic.”
Peggy took a sip of her coffee. “What do you need to do?”
I slipped into my terry robe as I shook my head. “I’m going to shower and get dressed now.”
Peggy was on my heels as I made my way into the bathroom. “What do you need to do?” she repeated.
I stopped and turned to face her. “It’s just something I need to do, Peggy.” I smiled at her. “Don’t fret. I won’t be gone long, and I
promise I’m not going to see Vernon.”
She narrowed her eyes at me but didn’t push any further. Peggy was older, but at least she knew when to leave her little sister alone.
I pulled my car into the trailer park behind the Gold Rush Tavern, guiding it toward the trailer I knew belonged to Doreen and her daughter Velvet. I shut off the engine, then exited the car quietly but with an air of assurance that came from who knows where. God above, no doubt.
I knocked on the door and waited for the minute or two it took Doreen to answer the door. It was after ten o’clock, but I’d obviously roused her from her slumber. She was wearing an oversized, longsleeved T-shirt and a pair of thick socks, and her scraggly hair was
pulled back in what at one time might have been a ponytail.
“Good gosh,” she growled. A wave of morning breath tinged with ashtray breath met me full force. “Don’t you have anything better to do this morning? Aren’t you getting married in a few hours?”
I kept my eyes on her bloodshot ones. “May I come in?”
She put one fist on a hip and said, “What for?”
I sighed. “Doreen, it’s cold out here. May I come in? Now, the proper thing for you to do is step aside and allow me entrance.”
She complied but not without muttering, “Hoity-toity.”
I ignored the jab. I stepped into the tiny living room with its secondhand furniture and stained carpet and said, “Is your daughter
here?”
Doreen walked over to the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “How should I know?” she asked, pulling a cigarette from the pack. “She’s a grown woman. We don’t keep tabs on each other.”
I watched as she lit her cigarette, then glanced over to the sofa. I’d thought to suggest we sit down, then decided against it. I would say what I had to say standing right where I was. “Look, Doreen,” I began. “I just wanted to come by and say that... you and I... you and I used to be friends...”
Doreen coughed out a laugh. “Oh yeah? When was that?” She
drew on her cigarette and blew the smoke upward.
“When we were children. I know that was a long time ago, but... what I’m trying to say is... I forgive you, Doreen.”
Doreen stared at me for a full minute before saying, “You forgive me? You
forgive
me?”
I raised my chin. “Yes, I do.”
“For what?”
I pressed my lips together before answering. “For taking Vernon from me when we were younger.”
“We were twelve,” she barked. She turned and paraded around the room in an obvious search for an ashtray. Finding one overflowing with old butts jutting out every which way, she flicked her ashes on their remains as she shook her head. “You are really something, Evangeline Benson. Coming here with your forgiveness for something that happened when we were knee high to grasshoppers.” She took another draw. “Well, I don’t need your forgiveness.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m not forgiving you for you,” I said, about as meek as I’d ever been. “I’m doing it for me.” Before she could speak I said, “And I want you to know that I will do my part to help you with your daughter. With Donna. She’s got a lot of healing to do... and I want to help her with that. For both of you.”
Doreen blinked at me. “You’d do that for me?”
“I would. But more for Donna than for you. The way I see it, we only get one mother and father, Doreen. And you’re it for Donna when it comes to mothers.” I took a step toward the door. “That’s all I came to say.”
Doreen took one step toward me, then stopped. “Thank you for that,” she said. “I’d give you a hug but...”
I gave her a weak smile. “Let’s not get carried away.” I didn’t want
to embarrass her, so I winked.
She looked down at her feet, and I took my leave from the same door by which I’d entered.
Lizzie called some time after lunch to see how I was doing.
“I’m okay,” I said. I had my hand pressed against the kitchen table where Peggy was applying another layer of clear topcoat to my painted nails. “Peggy’s doing a touch-up on my manicure.”
“So, have you heard the news?” she asked from the other end of the line.
“About Michelle and Adam? Of course. Who hasn’t? Pretty soon you’ll be the mother of the bride, sitting pretty on the front row of Grace Church.”
“Another thing for my already overfilled plate,” she said. “But they want a year to plan the wedding, so... But that’s not what I meant. Lisa Leann’s daughter just had a baby.”
“You’re kidding!”
“A boy.”
“A boy,” I echoed. “How precious. I’m sure Lisa Leann is beside herself... Wait a minute. Lisa Leann! What about my wedding?” I jerked my hand away from Peggy’s ministrations.
“Evangeline!” she snapped.
“Sorry,” I said and laid my hand back against the tabletop. “What about my wedding?” I asked Lizzie again.
“Don’t fret. The Potluck Club Catering Party is at your service.”
“The what?”
I could practically hear Lizzie smiling. “That’s what we’ve been calling ourselves all morning. When Lisa Leann and Donna flew out of here—oh, and Donna birthed the baby, but I’ll tell you more about that later—Lisa Leann left us with a flurry of instructions. Vonnie, Goldie, and I have had a blast all morning. The food. The floral arrangements. The musicians. The nonstop ringing of the phone. Oh, and your veil arrived. Wait till you see it, Evangeline.” She took a breath. “Well, anyway... I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun and worked so hard at the same time.”
I frowned. “Will Lisa Leann make it back in time for the wedding? I don’t want to sound selfish or anything, but I’m not sure I can do this without her.” I gulped. “Oh dear Lord, what did I just say?”
Lizzie called out, “Vonnie! Goldie! You won’t believe what Evangeline just told me.” I heard the “whats” in the background, but Lizzie didn’t answer them. “Okay, sweet bride. I’m going to say good-bye for now. We’ll see you in the bride’s room of the church
in a little bit.”
I hung up the phone and shook my head.
Oh Lord
, I prayed.
Not
that I want to be selfish, but... I need Lisa Leann!
Oh, dear Lord, what did I just pray?
I stood in the bride’s room at Grace Church, staring into the
full-length mirror before me.
“You look wonderful,” Vonnie said from behind me, giving my shoulders a squeeze.
“I do, don’t I?” I whispered back.
“Your gown is exquisite,” Goldie commented from the other side of the room, where she was applying a last-minute touch-up of lipstick in front of a small table mirror.
“It’s called ‘Grace Kelly,’” I said. I had chosen for my wedding gown a lovely one-piece, lace over satin A-line gown with a satin sash, which accented the empire waistline and wrapped to the corset back, finishing the gown with cascading streamers.
“Oh, now there was a bride,” Lizzie said. “When she married Prince Rainier, what a fairytale that was.” In my mirror I could see her reflection behind me. She was slipping her feet into the shoes Lisa Leann had dyed to match the color of the bridesmaids dresses.
The door opened, and Peggy stuck her head in. I turned in her direction as she said, “Never fear. Lisa Leann has just arrived. And, might I say, she looks no worse for the wear.”
I smiled. “Of course she doesn’t. She wouldn’t have it any other way.” I took a deep breath. “Are you going to come in or just your head?”
Peggy stuck her tongue out at me playfully. “I’ll be back in a second. I’m scoping everything out.” Her head disappeared, then reappeared. “Oh, girls. You should see Vernon Vesey in his penguin suit.” The door closed, and I made a sound that reminded me somewhat of a drowning woman taking her last breath.
Next to me, Donna sat in a chair positioned against the wall. “My father. In a tux. Who’d-a-thunk-it?”
We all laughed. Well, all but me. I was too nervous to think about Vernon in a tux. I turned from the mirror and walked over to the table where our bouquets of roses and daisies awaited us. “Perfect,” I said to no one.
Peggy walked back through the door. “Ladies, if you’re ready, Clay is here to photograph the bride’s side.” She smiled at me. “You look beautiful, baby sister,” she said. “If only Mama...”
I pressed my lips together.
I will not cry... I will not cry...
“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” I said, then jutted out my chin and walked toward the door.
I stood at the side of the vestibule and listened as the bridal march played. First Goldie walked down the aisle, then Lizzie. Lisa Leann, standing near the doorway, was ordering their steps. “One-two-three-four-one-two-three-four... glide... glide...” she whispered.
“Oh, perfect. Perfect.”
After Lizzie, Donna took her place at the door’s entrance. I saw her breath catch in her chest. She turned and looked at me, mouthing “He’s so handsome. My daddy...” and then she began her march down the aisle.
Vonnie followed behind her, taking her position. She, too, turned her head toward where I stood waiting alongside Matthew. She smiled, and I blinked. When she’d disappeared from my view, Lisa Leann stepped over and closed the double swinging doors. She motioned to me. Matthew and I moved toward her as the music from within changed and the rustling of people standing
followed.
Matthew and I took our positions as Lisa Leann fluttered over my gown.
“Are you ready?” Matthew asked, extending his arm.
I placed my gloved hand on top of his forearm as Lisa Leann had
instructed I do. “It’s more formal,” she’d said.
I looked up at him and whispered, “I am.”
I turned my gaze back to the closed doors.
“Here we go,” Lisa Leann practically sang.
She opened the doors in one swift, melodramatic moment. Through the shimmer of my veil I saw Vernon standing at the end of the aisle beside our pastor and alongside his groomsmen. He
pressed his hand to his chest, and I took one final deep breath.
At Lisa Leann’s lead, I took my first step toward my future.
With Britney beside him, Clay had snapped about eight rolls of film. As he removed each roll from his camera and handed them back to her, he’d say, “These are all going to be great. Just great.” He carried a digital camera, taking first one shot with it, then the final shot with his trusty 35mm, which allowed him more options for effect.
At the reception, he’d snapped pictures of the bride and groom dancing, the guests who followed them on the dance floor, and the clusters of well-wishers who waved or raised their toast glasses. He’d shot an entire roll of casual poses, catching the guests when they least expected it.
At her command, he’d taken several pictures of Lisa Leann as she “did her thing” so she could blow them up and have them matted and framed for the wall behind the counter of her shop. She was as big a ham as the pork she’d glazed and garnished and placed on one of the food tables.
Two days after the wedding, Clay and Britney worked with the photographs at her family dining room table, separating them by time sequence, placing the “good shots” in one pile and the few
“not-so-good shots” in another.
“Eyes are closed,” Britney said from beside him, placing another
in the latter pile.
