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Authors: Ann H. Gabhart

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Now Jocie waved her hand in front of David’s face to bring him back to the present. “Hey, Dad, you in there?”

“He’s probably thinking about a certain young somebody,” Wes said. “He sure ain’t thinking about helping us with these papers.”

“I was thinking how lucky I am to have two such willing workers to pick up the slack while I’m daydreaming.”

“I’ll bet Leigh would help fold papers for you,” Wes said. “Just for you. Especially if it was a private folding session.”

“A date folding papers?” Jocie said. “She’d have to be crazy.”

“If she’s really stuck on this old man the way the two of you think she is, that’s already established. She’s definitely got a few screws missing.” David turned away so they couldn’t see him smile. This afternoon it didn’t sound too bad having a woman ten plus years younger than him giving him the eye.

A
week passed. And then another. Two issues of the
Banner
off the press. Two Sunday morning sermons. Two Sundays Jocie managed not to sock Ronnie Martin in the nose in Sunday school. Every time he said something stupid, she just smiled and told herself God loved everybody. If that didn’t work, she imagined Zeb biting him.

Not that Zeb would bite anybody. Zeb was being a model dog, not digging up the first one of Aunt Love’s flowers or chasing Jezebel. When Jezzie showed up on the back porch in the early morning hours, he just rumbled a warning growl that sent the cat scurrying back to Aunt Love’s room.

Tabitha hadn’t gone to church yet. She said she didn’t feel up to it, and Aunt Love just looked at her and said okay instead of starting the great inquisition the way she did if Jocie ever said she was sick—“What hurts? How long has it hurt? How bad does it hurt? Are you throwing up? No? Then get ready for church.” All Jocie could figure was they were hoping the rose on Tabitha’s cheek would disappear before they had to introduce her to the Mt. Pleasant congregation.

It was strange how little Tabitha coming home had changed anything. Nobody made her do the first thing. She slept when she wanted to. If she didn’t come to the table at supper time, Aunt Love just saved her a plate. Mostly she spent her days sitting on a blanket in the sun, plaiting her long hair, and painting her
toenails different colors. Nobody seemed to mind that either. It was as if coming home from California gave her special freedom. Aunt Love didn’t even bombard her with Bible verses. She saved all of those for Jocie.

A couple of times Jocie went out to sit on the grass beside Tabitha’s blanket. She always intended to ask about her mother, but somehow the questions got stuck in her throat.

Jocie didn’t usually have all that much problem asking questions. She interviewed practically the whole town for the Fourth of July article that was supposed to run in next week’s
Banner
a week before the town’s parade and celebration. She started with Mayor Palmor and got the expected responses. The flag, parades, civic pride, fireworks, patriotic speeches. Randy Simmons, the chief of police, said pretty much the same with an added pitch for celebrating in a responsible way. Judge Blakemore mentioned the military, since he had a son in Vietnam. Betty Moore, the city clerk, talked about family picnics.

Jocie even threw a few questions out at Leigh Jacobson, but they weren’t the ones she really wanted to ask. Like why are you interested in my dad? And do you like dogs? And did you know that my dad thinks being a preacher’s wife is a calling just like being a preacher? And by the way, have you been getting any calls? From God?

Instead she asked if Leigh liked the Fourth, and Leigh smiled at her and said, “Who wouldn’t like the Fourth, with fireworks and a day off from work and watermelon and hot dogs?” She didn’t say the first thing about the flag, and by the time Jocie asked all her Fourth of July questions, she was beginning to almost like Leigh a little. She even dared throw in one extra question—what was Leigh’s favorite thing to cook for the Fourth?

When Leigh said chocolate cake with chocolate icing, it seemed like some kind of sign. Jocie needed a chocolate cake with chocolate icing for Tabitha’s birthday on Saturday, and that wasn’t
something Leigh could have found out about unless maybe Wes had told her. It was almost enough to make Jocie ask Leigh where to shop for bras, but instead she asked her to help her bake the birthday cake. And of course, after she asked Leigh to help bake the cake, she couldn’t very well not invite her over to help eat it.

Then she had to ask Zella because Leigh called up and blabbed to Zella all about the party Jocie was having for Tabitha. Zella came straight back to the pressroom to corner Jocie, and what could Jocie do but say, “Oh, Zella, didn’t I tell you? It’s just going to be cake and tea or lemonade. Nothing much.”

“But I have been so anxious to see Tabitha,” Zella said. “I keep expecting her to stop in when she comes to town.”

“I don’t think she’s come to town since she’s been home. She just wants to stay home and sit in the sun. Says tans are harder to get here than in California.”

“The same sun shines here as out there,” Zella asked.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But she says you tan better if there’s an ocean around. Here she says you just sweat.”

“Horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies glisten.” Zella fished a pink tissue out from under the waistband of her rose-colored skirt and dabbed her glistening forehead. “Do you need me to bring anything Saturday? Perhaps some of those little pastel mints?”

“Sure, if you want to.”

“Is Aunt Love helping you make the cake?” Zella raised her eyebrows.

Jocie could tell she was fishing, but sometimes the easiest way to get Zella out of the pressroom was to go ahead and play her games. “No. I figured you knew Leigh was going to help me with the cake.”

“Oh, that’s right. She did tell me that,” Zella said as if she had just remembered. She looked particularly pleased with herself. “I’ve eaten her chocolate cake. It’s delicious.”

Wes waited until Zella went back out front to her desk before he said, “Next thing she’ll want to be bridesmaid at the wedding.”

“Wedding? Whoa, I just asked Leigh to help me bake a cake,” Jocie said.

“A birthday cake today. A wedding cake tomorrow. Or whenever.”

“I should’ve just bought a cake mix.” Jocie sank down on the stool in front of the composing table.

“No, no. You’ve made two women very happy.”

“Maybe I should warn Dad.”

“Might be a good idea.”

“And Tabitha. And Aunt Love.”

“You haven’t told your Aunt Love you’re planning a party?”

“I wasn’t planning a party. I was just planning for you to come over, and Aunt Love doesn’t care if you see dust on the piano, but now we’ll have to scrub down the walls and wash the woodwork. I won’t get to do anything but clean till Saturday.”

“Well, at least you’ll have Tabitha to help you.”

“Aunt Love doesn’t make Tabitha do anything, not even set the table or peel potatoes. And if I say anything about it, Aunt Love just quotes me some Scripture that as far as I can tell has nothing at all to do with me or Tabitha, and then she tells me I shouldn’t be worrying about what other people do, just what I do.”

“Not bad advice,” Wes said.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Jocie demanded.

“Hold on. I ain’t got no sides in this battle. I’ll just hang out on the sidelines and watch the fireworks from there.”

“But it’s not fair, Wes. I mean, I’m glad Tabitha’s home and everything, but it’s like she sent her body home but the rest of her stayed out in California.” Jocie picked up a pen and began clicking the tip in and out as she talked.

Wes sat down on the stool next to her and picked up another
pen to click in rhythm with hers. “’Bout the only thing you can expect to be fair is the weather every so often.”

“Or the face of a pretty girl or a passing grade or the county or state fairs. Why are they called fairs? Why not greats?” Jocie didn’t wait for an answer. She just threw out the question she really wanted answered. “I mean, why did she come home if she didn’t want to?”

“To answer somebody’s prayers?”

Jocie dropped the pen on the desk. “She didn’t know I was praying. She thought it was hilarious when I told her about the sister prayer.”

“Well, then what is it your pop is always saying?—the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, just think about it. You’re going to be baking a cake with Leigh Jacobson. Who’d have thought that would ever happen two weeks ago?”

It did seem weird biking to Leigh Jacobson’s house on Friday afternoon. Jocie had hardly had a moment to do anything but scrub since she’d told Aunt Love about inviting Leigh and Zella to come for birthday cake Saturday afternoon. She’d had to wash every window in the house while Aunt Love was doing up the curtains. Then the floors had needed sweeping and mopping and shining, and the refrigerator had had to be defrosted and cleaned out. Thank goodness they only had three days to get ready or Aunt Love would have had them painting the house inside and out. As it was, her father had had to paint the porch floor.

Tabitha had watched them working, had even helped iron some of the curtains for Aunt Love when Aunt Love’s face turned extra pink one hot afternoon. Nobody had told Tabitha why they were cleaning. She thought they were just having an attack of spring cleaning fever, even if it was the middle of the summer. Jocie had
convinced her father it would be fun to surprise Tabitha, who hadn’t mentioned her birthday coming up one time. Maybe she thought they’d forgotten when her birthday was. But that wasn’t the real reason Jocie hadn’t wanted to tell Tabitha about the birthday party. If nobody asked her, she couldn’t say no.

Jocie kept telling herself that surely Tabitha would be happy to have a party. It was just Zella and Wes. They were practically family. And of course Leigh, who wanted to be family. This would be a good test to see if Jocie should campaign for or against that idea.

Jocie had shaken some quarters out of her piggy bank and gone to the Five and Dime store to buy Tabitha some nail polish and a brush and comb. She’d thought about buying her a new shirt or some shorts. As far as Jocie could tell, Tabitha only had two things she could wear besides her bathing suit, and they looked a little tight. Aunt Love’s cooking wasn’t great, but it must have been better than what Tabitha had been getting in California. But Jocie didn’t have enough money for anything from the Fashion Shop, and besides, she had to save some in case she had to make an emergency bra run before school started.

She cringed at the idea of asking Mrs. Headley at the Fashion Shop to show her a bra. Mrs. Headley kept all the underwear in white boxes on shelves behind the counter and pulled them out one box at a time to lay the panties out on the counter. Mrs. Headley or Miss Paulie asked you for a size, but if you didn’t know, they gave you the eye and matched you up with the right size. Jocie was afraid they might not have any sizes to match her top part in the underwear department. They’d probably just laugh her out of the shop.

But she didn’t have to worry about that now. It was still weeks and weeks before school. Maybe Tabitha would wake up from her zombie state and offer to go to Grundy to help her school shop. Even if she didn’t wear bras, she’d know about them. After all, she was going to be twenty on her birthday Saturday.

Leigh lived in an apartment in the upstairs of an old house on Water Street. When Jocie climbed the stairs, Leigh pulled open the door before Jocie could knock. Mrs. Simpson, the owner of the house, lived downstairs and complained about noises. Leigh practically tiptoed as she led the way back across the kitchen to the table, where a couple of iced soft drinks were still bubbling beside a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

Jocie’s eyes slid around the kitchen taking in the light green tile counters, the yellow sink, and the white stove and refrigerator gleaming in the afternoon sunlight pouring through the window over the sink. No curtains hindered the light or the scant air drifting in the open window. A pink fringed violet bloomed on the window sill. A wooden cutting board with a large sunflower painted on it hung on the wall beside the stove. Fruit-shaped magnets were scattered across the top of the refrigerator door. Under the apple was the picture of Mt. Pleasant Church’s new interim pastor and family.

BOOK: The Scent of Lilacs
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