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- Dorothea Benton Frank
By Invitation Only Page 4
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I waited and then she said, “Men are stupid. That’s the real problem here.”
“I don’t know if they’re all stupid, but I can attest to the fact that the little boy in them never completely grows up. I’ll see you in a few minutes!”
The poor thing. She walked away.
My beautiful daughter, poised and graceful, moved across the distance between us on Frederick’s arm. Alejandro was still on the phone. I turned to the tent. There were beer kegs. And a pig splayed across a large table with an apple in its mouth. Floyd caught my eye. He was staring at me. He slapped the pig on its butt and grinned at me. What was I to infer from that?
Chapter 5
Irma Is Served
“Alden did such a great job!” Diane said.
“You ought to reward him with a kiss!” Virnell said.
“Mom!” Diane said.
As we meandered down the driveway toward the tent, I started getting excited. We didn’t throw parties, so a barbecue of this magnitude was a very big deal, and more special because of the occasion. Our bluegrass band was in full swing, and there was a great vibe. We stopped along the way, saying hello to arriving friends and introducing Susan to everyone. People had already begun to eat, as was the custom. When the pig was done, people lined up.
“Come on, Momma,” I said to Virnell. “Let’s get you and Pop a seat and I’ll fix y’all a plate.”
“That would be very nice,” she said, “although we’re not exactly infirm yet.” She smiled at Susan and Susan smiled back.
I just shook my head and led my parents to a table. Everyone was talking about the food, but especially about how moist and delicious the pork was. Most of our friends already had a little grease on their chins and they were literally licking their fingers. Irma was working her voodoo.
“Make sure you try a piece of the crackling,” I said to Susan, pointing to the pile of crispy skin all stacked up inside the rib cage while I wondered if her eyelashes were ones that she grew.
“Believe it or not, I went to a pig pull once, years ago. As I recall, the skin can be very difficult to chew,” she said.
“Not the way Floyd roasts it. He has a special technique. Ask him; he’ll tell you. He loves to talk about barbecue.”
“These peanuts are wet,” she said.
“They’re boiled, not roasted. Try one.”
She carefully popped one open and looked at the little peanuts floating in brine with more consternation than was called for.
“Just pick these out?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Like this.” I took one from the pile, snapped it open and slurped the peanut and brine together. “Delicious!”
She then put the shell to her lips and did the same. “Wow! That’s really good!”
“Another convert!” I said and we laughed.
We were in the buffet line together. Her husband was still on the phone. Shelby and Fred were dancing closely, doing the walk-around waltz despite the lively music that was playing. I had hardly spoken to them. They were oblivious to everyone. I wondered what it was like to be so deeply in love. Love required a dangerous amount of surrender, something that held no interest for me. And then there was the issue of trust. Another huge problem. And time spent to keep the flame going. I had no time to spare.
“Maybe I’ll try a small piece of skin,” she said, as though I’d suggested a lung donation might be fun.
“Oh, come on, honey, step out of your box!” I said, picking up the tongs. I put a lovely thin piece of crackling on her plate. “Give it a whirl.”
“Did you just call me honey?” she said, picking it up with her fingers and biting off a small piece. She was smiling.
“Down here everyone’s honey,” I said. “So how do you like Irma’s crackling?”
“It’s better than sex,” she said and laughed. She accepted a small portion of shrimp and grits and a scoop of the tomato cucumber salad from the server.
I was surprised she would make such a familiar remark, so I laughed with her and said, “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know about sex, but I do love the skin.” She sniffed at the corn bread and the biscuits and declined them. Should I have reminded her that grits have carbs?
“Well now, that’s truly a shame!”
“I don’t have the time for all that nonsense. And at my age? I mean, do you see a line of eligible men lining up at my front door?” I said. I shook my head and smiled. “It’s always been slim pickings around here to start with.”
“Honey, there’s slim pickings all over the world, and yes, I called you honey. When in Rome, you know? You’re too young to feel that way.”
She returned to the buffet table and took another large piece of crackling and a handful of boiled peanuts. I put two plates in front of Mom and Pop. I looked up to see that Floyd had his eye on Susan and BJ had her eye on Floyd. I thought, Uh-oh. Alejandro had better get off the phone before I got a new sister-in-law. There were some serious hormones flying around and it was barely dusk. It was Irma’s fault.
I took Susan over to one of the dozen farm tables placed around the dance floor.
“Sit with me,” I said and proceeded to introduce her to the others there. “This is my dear friend Kathy Christie. We’ve been friends since kindergarten and neighbors for too many years to count! She lives next door.”
“Next door is over a mile away,” Kathy said, taking a full inventory of Susan, letting Susan know we weren’t destitute.
“Hi,” Susan said.
Kathy said in her profound drawl, “We are all so happy to welcome Shelby to the family.”
“Thank you,” Susan said. “We feel the same way about Frederick.”
Kathy shot me a glance. Frederick? I could read her mind. Is she talking about our Fred? She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin and stood to better talk to Susan. “Of course. Well, I hope you all will have the opportunity to see a bit of Charleston. How long are y’all planning to stay?”
Susan put her plate on the table, and at that moment I was glad I ordered folding chairs instead of picnic benches. I couldn’t see her climbing over a picnic bench in her linen dress without compromising modesty.
“Oh, I’m afraid we’re flying out early in the morning. We have an engagement for tomorrow evening.”
“I see,” Kathy said and arched an eyebrow over her word choice. “And where are you all staying tonight?”
“We’re at Zero George. Do you know it?”
“Why, how funny! I helped Lynn decorate the place. We went to UVA together.”
“Lynn?”
“Easton. She owns it. Not that y’all don’t have everything you need in Chicago, but she also plans destination weddings. She’s extraordinary. Really.”
“I’ll check her out,” Susan said. “Shall we sit?”
Kathy paused for a moment, smiled that sly smile of hers, and said, “We shall.”
Susan had met her pretentious match, and for much of the night she would be glued to Kathy’s side, yakking away like they’d been friends since kindergarten. Kathy had also had two of the worst husbands in the history of marriage. One had anger issues and the other liked to shoplift. Like me, Kathy had sworn off love, preferring to garden, travel, and read.
I had to laugh to myself that one of my friends was going to tell Susan Kennedy Cambria a single thing. But Kathy had her finger on the pulse of Charleston. So if Susan Kennedy Cambria thought she was coming down here to strut her stuff among a bunch of isolated little lambs who knew nothing of the world, Kathy had just let her know she was mistaken. Truly, Kathy was a glamour girl next to me. For one thing, her pashminas and silk scarves always stayed in place, while I might drape a cardigan over my shoulders and struggle to keep it off the floor. She was the one who could wear lots of diamonds with jeans and look exactly right. I’d even seen her wear a boa once and it seemed perfectly appropriate. Yes, a boa.
So much for my glamorous life. The only diamond I had ever owned was on Shelby’s finger now,
but it didn’t bother me one bit. Of course, my mother, good old Virnell, had looked at it hard and said something like So, that’s a halo, huh? Well, I hope you’re happy with it now. I had died a little when I heard her trying to tell Shelby where the bear went in the buckwheat so I jumped in and said, Oh, it’s so much more fashionable now, as if I knew the difference. So far, if Fred and Shelby’s mutual rapturous gaze was any indication, that diamond did not appear to be a bad-luck stone. And Kathy had Susan well occupied, chatting her up with everyone else at the table.
Until Floyd approached. I watched in horror as my brother led Susan to the dance floor. She didn’t even seem to be reluctant. I looked around, and sure enough, Alejandro was still on his cell and BJ had a very stern face. I’d seen that exact expression on Floyd’s other women and knew exactly what it meant. Start packing. The party’s over. Maybe not tonight, but soon, to be sure. Oh, dear. I had to do something to keep peace, and suddenly I had an idea.
I walked over to Floyd and Susan, whose moves, just by the way, weren’t earning them a slot on Dancing with the Stars. He was all over the place, swinging her around I don’t know what and then bringing her in close, whispering in her ear. But oddly, she seemed to like it. Go figure. I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, sweet brother.”
Naturally, he stopped and said, “Yes?”
“You need to give your toast!” I said.
“A toast?”
“Your brother is quite the dancer,” Susan said. Her face was flushed.
“If you say so,” I said to her and turned back to Floyd. “Yes! The toast! You are supposed to welcome everyone and say how happy we are to have Shelby marry Fred!”
“Well, I promised to get my new friend here a big shot of vodka. She’s not a beer drinker. Give us ten minutes and I’ll take care of it.”
“Come here for just a sec.” I said and motioned for him to step aside from Susan for a moment. “Just two seconds,” I said to her.
“What?” he said.
“BJ’s got a bee in her bonnet. I don’t think she’s too happy with you right now.”
We glanced in BJ’s direction. Her expression reminded me of Mount Rushmore.
“That’s so stupid,” he said. “I can’t live my life dealing with her insecurities. She’s too moody.”
“I see,” I said.
“Come on,” he said to Susan. “We’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Sure!” I wanted to warn Susan about Floyd and his amorous ways, but I figured she was a big girl. Maybe her absence would get her husband’s attention, and maybe he’d get off the phone. I watched them walk away in the direction of Floyd’s trailer and thought, Boy, is she in for a jolt of culture shock or what?
I spotted Alden and worked my way through the crowd to thank him.
“Hey! Alden, thank you for tonight. The food is amazing. The tent is perfect and everything is just right.”
He was sort of nodding his head in time with the music and I found myself doing the same.
“Well, you’re welcome. If our performance passes muster with you and Miss Virnell, I’m a happy man.”
The banjo player started playing lead, and a few minutes later the fiddler took the spotlight, followed by the bass player. They played so forcefully that people stopped dancing and stared at them as though it was a concert.
“Look at this,” Alden said, “we’ve got our own little Woodstock going here.”
“Funny. These guys are really good!”
“They sure are! The bass player is Darius Rucker’s cousin.”
“No kidding.”
“Nope. No kidding.”
Their song ended, everyone applauded, and they quickly began playing a beautiful waltz. Naturally, there was a breeze, a warm breeze laced with conspiracy and the fragrance of the rich earth that sustained us. The Spanish moss was moving in its own slow dance and the evening suddenly seemed ripe with possibilities.
“So, Diane, want to take a spin around the floor?” he said.
It seemed harmless enough, so I said, “Sure! Why not?”
I should’ve known I would get sucked into being emotional. How long had it been since I’d been held in a man’s arms, dancing to live music, in the warm air on an early-fall night? A very long time. I closed my eyes for a moment and just let him lead. My only child was getting married. I’d longed for this moment and I’d dreaded it too. But I was happy for Fred. I really was. And for Shelby too. I wanted grandchildren badly. And I wanted my Fred to be happy and settled. But I missed him. I missed having him in my life every day. There had always been the possibility that he might return to us, and now he never would. Suddenly I understood exactly what bittersweet meant.
Shelby would be a good wife. She was really serious for a young woman her age, but maybe that was a good thing.
“What are you thinking about?” Alden said. “You’re a million miles away.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just musing about my boy getting married.”
He held me back to have a look at my face. “Well, as you should. The time goes quickly, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, and each year seems to pass with even greater speed.”
He nodded and pulled me close again. “You smell good,” he said.
That was all it took to throw me off. I knew I’d be awake half the night fighting thoughts of him, of being with him. I just didn’t want to deal with it.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to play with my heart,” I said.
“Who’s playing?” he said.
“Oh, Alden,” I said, and in a moment of abandon, I let my head rest on his shoulder and thought, Oh, Irma.
“What did you say?” he said. “I thought I heard you call Irma’s name.”
I stood back, looked at him, and said, “She was so much more than the other white meat.”
Then we got the giggles. Who besides us would’ve ever understood?
Minutes later I looked over to see Floyd standing with Susan and BJ by the band. Alejandro had finally joined them. He didn’t seem particularly happy.
“I should go over there. Floyd’s giving a toast,” I said to Alden. “Want to come with me?”
He nodded, took my elbow, and we walked over. I didn’t want to stand there husbandless and sentimental. I had a fleeting hope that Alden wouldn’t read too much into it. Surely after all this time he understood that standing by me for a toast wasn’t a proposal of my own to him. I just felt like I needed a friend.
The band stopped playing, and by the time I got there, Floyd was asking everyone to kindly pay attention. Our rowdy friends and family finally quieted down and directed their attention to him.
“I’ve had the great pleasure of knowing Fred since the day he was born. I’m his uncle Floyd. Most of you know I helped my sister, Diane, raise him, right here on this land that has belonged to our family since right after the American Revolution. That, folks, was a long time ago. But everything of importance to our family has happened right here. Our ancestors built this farm hundreds of years ago, only taking time off to fight in a few wars. It may seem like a humble life to some.” He eyeballed Susan and Alejandro and smiled. “But to our family, it’s a little bit of, well, paradise. When the peach trees blossom, you can get drunk on the air.”
I heard Alejandro mutter, “That is, if one wants to get drunk.”
Susan just arched an eyebrow and smiled. Her friend from Chicago, who arrived very late, was by her side.
Floyd continued. “Anyway, it has been one of the great pleasures of my life to have had a part of Fred’s upbringing. I taught him how to catch fish, clean ’em, and cook ’em. I taught him how plant things like corn, tomatoes, and okra, which we actually love, and how to row a boat and how to swim. There are as many stories about Fred’s childhood as you might imagine, but one in particular keeps coming back to me.”
“Oh, no!” Fred called out. “Uncle Floyd! Not the one about the kittens!”
Everyone laughe
d for no reason.
“The kittens? Oh, no. No, that’s not the one. I’m thinking about something else.”
“Not the time I hid the ducks in the bathtub! That’s a terrible story!” Fred called out again.
“You did that?” Shelby said.
Fred nodded to her.
“She had plenty of adventures herself,” Susan said so loudly that I wondered how many nips she had with Floyd.
And then I had the terrible thought that Floyd had given her a few snorts from his stash of white lightning instead of regulation vodka. His firewater was 180 proof, and if abused correctly, it had the potential to bring down the workforce of Russia and Poland combined. I was sure it could lead to blindness. Lethal.
“No, no. This was a sweet memory. You see, Fred was thrifty. He never spent his money. If he earned fifty cents for doing extra chores around here, maybe he’d spend a nickel. We used to laugh and say he’d still have his First Communion money when he went to college. Anyway, one day my truck broke down. The old thing was a junker and needed everything – tires, brakes, you name it, my truck needed it. Anyone who knows us knows we don’t believe in buying new cars or trucks. Fred must’ve been around ten. So he asked me what I was so long in the face about and I told him. He asked me how much it was going to cost to repair it. I told him I thought it was in the area of about eight hundred dollars. He agreed that it seemed like a fortune. But I needed my truck and he knew it. Later that afternoon he came to me with a contract and a ballpoint pen and offered to loan me the money at two percent interest if I paid him back within thirty days.”
Everyone hooted and hollered and clapped their hands.
“I said, ‘Boy? You got that kinda money in your room?’ He said, ‘Yes, sir.’ So I said, ‘I’ll take the deal at one percent,’ and I signed on the bottom line.”
More laughing and cheering followed. Floyd continued. “What I’m telling you, Shelby, is that at a very early age, our Fred knew a good thing when he saw one. Therefore it’s no surprise to us, knowing how pretty and smart you are, that he fell in love with you and intends to marry you! We are so happy for you and Fred. All the English and Stiftel family want to welcome you to our family and we all wish y’all a lifetime of finding good things together! Cheers!”