Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond (32 page)

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Authors: Joyce Magnin

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BOOK: Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond
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28

 

 

I took the first step down the aisle, and at first, I was caught off guard by the noise of seats moving as all our guests stood. Then I needed to swipe at tears when I realized they were standing for me. I was amazed and humbled all at the same time even if it was tradition. It still felt like it was the absolute first time any group had stood for a bride. I walked slowly like Ruth told me to. I looked from side to side nodding at people, making eye contact, and trying to remember to smile. Edie and Bill looked happy and smiled. Janeen and Frank Sturgis seemed proud to know me. Frank held his Super 8 movie camera cradled in the crook of his arm as though filming the bride making her entrance was somehow off limits.

Cliff was not there, and it made me feel sad for just a second or two. Like Leon Fontaine, Cliff had disappeared. About two-thirds of the way down I looked at Zeb and never took my eyes off of him.

When I reached the last row of chairs, I saw Pastor Speedwell nod to Zeb. He joined me. I slipped my arm in his, and we took the last few steps together. I smiled at Agnes and Ruth and Studebaker. Pastor raised his arms and then lowered them— a signal for the congregation to sit.

"Join your right hands," Pastor said.

And suddenly the cold went away and all I could feel was the warmth of Zeb's hand holding mine. Although to be honest, it was difficult not to whisper to him about his choice of tux.

Pastor Speedwell looked out over the crowd. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in this—" he looked around at the twinkling lights and the mistletoe. "Beautiful place to join Zeb and Griselda in holy matrimony."

Zeb's palm went sweaty but I only held tighter. We looked into each other's eyes.

"If there is anyone here who knows any reason why this union should not take place let him speak now or forever hold his tongue."

A distinct hush fell over the crowd. I could feel the people looking around, waiting for someone—Eugene Shrapnel, who I saw sitting in the back, or even Agnes—to speak. But all was still.

Pastor spoke a few more words on the sanctity and mystery of marriage, about two people becoming one, and about miracles in general. We exchanged vows as the snow began to fall harder.

"The ring, please," Pastor said.

Studebaker handed him the gold bands we picked out. Pastor gave the ring to Zeb.

"With this ring," Zeb said as he slipped it onto my finger, "I thee wed."

Next Pastor Speedwell took the ring from Agnes. She smiled at me. And I at her.

"With this ring," I said. "I thee wed."

Pastor Speedwell smiled. "And now I pronounce you husband and wife." He looked up at the sprig of mistletoe and then back at us. "Go on, kiss your bride."

Zeb and I kissed. But it was more like a peck. A quick acknowledgment. And that was OK.

Then we turned, and I looked out over the guests. They applauded as we walked down the aisle holding hands, married, husband and wife.

The walk back to the Sunshine Room was the happiest walk of my life. Residents still lined the halls, a few holding IV carts, most in pajamas or robes, yet all with smiles as Zeb and I made our way to the reception. There had been talk of a receiving line but both Zeb and I felt that would be a little too much.

"Nah," Zeb said. "Let's just mill around, you know mingle and greet people like that."

"That sounds good," I said. "I don't think I'd like to stand and shake hands and hug like I was the Queen of England or something."

The day was still overcast and gray so the lights were on in the room giving the place a kind of odd yellow glow. But the Greenbrier kitchen lady, Babs, set about lighting the candles in the center of all the tables while Zeb and I waited for our guests to arrive. The plan was to hold them back until we were settled. Then Agnes arrived and took her place next to me, Ruth popped her head into the room. "Woo hoo," she said. "Congratulations."

Studebaker, who pushed Agnes into the room, sat next to Zeb. He slapped Zeb's back making him lurch forward and nearly knock over a water glass. "You did it, Old Man," Stu said. "Congratulations."

Zeb smiled. "Thank you."

By then, all the candles had been lit and Babs turned the glaring overhead lights off. Between the glow that leaked in from the kitchen and the candlelight, the reception area now had a romantic ambience.

"This is so nice," Agnes said. "I don't think I've ever been in this room."

"It is pretty," I said. "Whoever set this all up did a wonderful job."

"It was mostly Charlotte and Rose and that midget—"

"Little person, Ginger Rodgers," I said.

"Right, didn't mean no disrespect. They decorated the place."

Long ribbons of red and green crepe paper were strung from corner to corner across the ceiling. Wreaths made from pinecones and holly were hung from the windows, and a fully decorated Christmas tree stood in the center where what I assumed were our wedding gifts sat underneath.

The Christmas Wedding Pie Cake was sitting proudly on a table off in a corner but still attracted attention. I heard someone say, "That is the oddest wedding cake I ever did see. Who has pie at a wedding?"

Charlotte, who sat with the Angels at the table closest to the cake, simply smiled.

It took a few minutes but all the guests were seated for the meal when it occurred to me that these people were expecting some kind of luncheon. I whispered to Agnes, "Zeb and I didn't really plan on food. We thought we'd just have pie, coffee, and soda. Nothing fancy."

She patted my hand. "Edie, Janeen, and the Society Ladies took care of it. They wanted to surprise you."

"Oh, that's so sweet."

"It's pretty much a pot luck," Agnes said. "Church food." Studebaker tapped his water glass with his knife and stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Lunch will be served in just a few moments. It's pot luck, so we have all kinds of choices over there."

I looked in the direction he had nodded and saw a table crowded with pretty casseroles, pots filled with baked beans, dishes of already sliced beef and pork, salads, macaroni and cheese, and Jell-O Surprise.

"But first, I just want to welcome you all and to congratulate Zeb and Griselda."

Applause echoed through the room.

Zeb pointed at the mistletoe. We kissed as the applause grew louder. It had started to become a bit embarrassing. But that was OK.

Also at our table were Milton and Darcy Speedwell. What they did with the boys I didn't know and didn't ask. We moved to the buffet table first and piled our plates with macaroni and cheese, roast beef, tomato casserole, biscuits, chicken legs, some kind of Jell-O Surprise, meat loaf, and meatballs. Well, Zeb did. I wasn't all that hungry and ate only some macaroni and cheese lovingly prepared by Harriet Nurse. It was her specialty.

It didn't take long for everyone else to line up and get their food. Christmas carols played in the background although broken up every so often by the sound of a resident's call button ringing for a nurse—most of the nurses were at the reception.

I spotted Nurse Sally with Doctor Silver. They seemed more like a couple than colleagues.

"I just want you to know," Janeen said as she hugged me, "you are the prettiest bride ever. Ever, Griselda. I am so happy for you."

"She's right," Edie said. "I didn't think you two would ever tie the knot but this day couldn't be more perfect. And that gazebo, what a fabulous place."

And so it went for a few minutes. Friends came one by one, two by two to congratulate us. I watched some of the men slip envelopes to Zeb that he discreetly shoved in his pockets.

It was as though the world had stopped spinning when I looked up from my macaroni and saw Mercy Lincoln standing in the doorway. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wore nothing but a slight, thin dress, no shoes. She shivered and cried.

"Oh, no." I pushed my seat from the table and ran toward her.

"Grizzy," Zeb called, "where are you going?"

I moved quickly toward her. "Mercy, what's the matter?" She flung her arms around me. "Miz Griselda. It's something awful. I need to find that little man. Where is he?"

"I . . . I don't know," I said.

"O, Miz Griselda, I am terrible sorry to interrupt your weddin' and all, but I need to find him."

"Why?"

By then Zeb had joined me. "What's the problem?"

"I'm not sure, yet."

I took Mercy's hand and led her to the hallway. "Now tell me why you need Leon Fontaine."

"He's the only one what can help. It's Mama, again."

"Is she sick?" Zeb asked.

Mercy sobbed and nodded. "Where is he?"

I looked at Zeb. "What should we do?"

"Get Doc Flaherty. I saw him sitting with Dot Handy."

"Listen, Mercy," Zeb said. "You stay right here. We'll get help."

"Leon Fontaine," she said.

"Stay," I said.

I found Doc. He had just put a large fork full of beef in his mouth.

"Doc, can you come with me?"

"Is it Agnes?" he said looking in her direction.

"No. It's someone else."

The others at the table asked questions, but I ignored them.

Doc knelt down next to Mercy. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

Mercy shook her head. "It's Mama. I need Mr. Leon."

"Leon?" Doc said looking at me. "What can he do?"

"He can help Mama," Mercy said.

"I knew something like this was going to happen," Doc said. "That man has no right to—"

"Shhh, Doc. Let's help Mercy."

"Come on, Mercy," Doc said. "Take me to your Mama."

"We'll be right behind," I said.

Zeb grabbed my hand. "Griselda, it's our wedding day. Let Doc handle this."

"But Mercy. I can't just ignore her. I need to help."

"Later, let's enjoy our day."

"I can't," I said. "I can't go in there and . . . and have a party."

"Shhh," Zeb put his finger to his mouth. "OK, we'll catch up with Doc in a little while."

"Think we should send Mildred out there?"

Zeb looked around the room. "She didn't even come."

"I know. She's been looking for Leon."

It took a few minutes with people both congratulating and asking questions, but we finally got back to the table.

"What's going on?" Agnes asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "Doc went with Mercy. Something about her mother."

"Is she sick?" Ruth asked.

I don't know yet. We'll figure it out later. But she wants Leon Fontaine."

"Leon," Zeb said. "I knew he'd be trouble."

Studebaker stood and proposed a toast. I guess he hoped it would settle the chatter down and get people thinking about other things.

"I'm not very good at explaining my thoughts," Stu said. "So this will be short and, I hope, sweet." He looked at us.

Zeb draped his arm around me.

"There are some who said that Griselda and Zeb would never make it official. But I always knew that when the time was right these two lovebirds would get hitched."

Applause and tapping of water glasses. We kissed—again. "Anyway, I just want to say that there isn't a couple around who belong together more than these two. But, Griselda, we already know who wears the apron in your family. And from what I hear about your cooking, that's a good thing."

Laughter filtered around the room. The sad thing is, he was right.

"But Zeb, my friend, Griselda is the one with the pilot's license. You might want to keep that in mind when she says she needs to go out for some milk. Oh, and don't forget you'll be living in a funeral home now." Stu swallowed and then smiled with a twisted grin. "So, congratulations and here's to a long and happy marriage."

We all sipped from our glasses.

"Thank you, Stu," Zeb said.

Babs approached me. "Should we cut the . . . cake, pie thing now?"

"Yes," I said. "Let's do that."

Babs signaled for two men to wheel the Christmas Wedding Pie Cake to the center of the room. Zeb took my hand and we made our way there. A pie slicer sat on the table with red and green bows tied to the handle.

Zeb picked it up and made the first slice into one of the lower cherry pies. Then he handed me the utensil. I made a second slice and gently lifted it out of the pan. A cherry glopped onto the floor. I knew there was a silly tradition of smashing the cake into the groom's face, but I couldn't see myself doing that. So, I lifted the pie to his mouth and he bit and chewed and smiled.

"The best pie ever."

More applause, and Zeb and I returned to our seats while the pies were sliced and distributed to the guests. Yet my mind was still on Mercy. I worried that her mother had taken ill—or worse. And when Mildred Blessing arrived and stood in the doorway my heart sank into my shoes.

29

 

Zeb," I said. "I better go see what she wants."

"OK, but come right back. I don't want you going to the woods."

"I won't."

Agnes stopped me. "You can't take care of the whole world," she whispered. "Your life isn't your own anymore."

"It never really was." I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth.

Ruth snagged my hand as I tried to slip past her. "You follow your heart."

I could tell from the chatter and laughter in the room that most have forgotten about Mercy, and they hadn't even noticed Mildred standing there in her police uniform.

"What happened?" I said.

"Nothing. Yet. But we need to find Leon. Have you seen him?"

I shook my head and walked into the hallway. Mildred followed.

"Tell me the truth, Griselda," Mildred said. "Now I hate to interrupt your wedding day but if you know anything you got to tell me."

"All right, all right. I saw him earlier today."

"Where?"

"Here."

"Here?" Mildred said. "At Greenbrier?"

"Yes. He was helping Eula Spitwell."

Mildred twisted her mouth and then said, "Why would he help a woman spit well?"

"No, no, that's her name, Eula Spitwell, one word."

"That's unfortunate. But when, how long ago?"

"A couple of hours ago, maybe three."

"Why didn't you call me? You knew I was looking for him. I had an APB out on him."

I swallowed and glanced into the room. I wasn't even missed yet. I saw Zeb talking with Stu. He looked happy enough.

"Because I didn't want him to get into trouble. He's a good man—"

Mildred wrinkled her brow.

"OK, maybe he's a little crazy. But he means well, and no one has really been hurt."

"Oh, no? Tell that to Charlamaine Lincoln."

My stomach churned. "What happened?"

"I was just at the shack. Apparently Leon had given Charla—"

But before she could finish, Zeb appeared behind us. "Can this wait, Mildred? Is Griselda in any trouble?"

"No, Zeb," Mildred said. "I just need some information."

"Then get it later." He took my hand. "Come on, Griselda. Let's get back to our wedding reception." There was a tad of anger in his voice. "I told you we'd figure this out later."

When we got back to the table I leaned toward Agnes and Ruth. "Something happened to Mercy's mama. I don't know what. Leon might have done something."

"Oh, dear," Ruth said. "Really? But that fella doesn't hurt people."

"I know. But now I'm sorry I didn't say anything when I saw him earlier."

Harriet Nurse stopped by the table. "I just want to say you look lovely, Griselda. And best wishes."

"Thank you, Harriet."

I watched her return to her table. She was sitting with Jasper York and some other residents.

"Now look," Agnes said, "you did what you saw best to do. Like I keep telling you, the weight of the world is not yours to carry."

"I know, but now I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Ruth asked.

"I was just talking to Mildred. She said something has happened to Charlamaine Lincoln. She thinks Leon might have something to do with it. But Charlamaine's just so meanspirited, I wouldn't put it past her to try and make him take the blame for whatever it is."

"Of course not," Agnes said. "He's like Santa Claus or a leprechaun. He'd never deliberately hurt anyone."

I saw Mildred strutting toward our table. "Shh. Here comes Dick Tracy."

"Just tell me where he went," Mildred said.

"I don't know. He slipped out the side door." Mildred took a breath and waited until a nosy resident passed by. "Charlamaine Lincoln needs him."

"Are you gonna tell me what in the heck is going on?

"Mercy said he promised he'd help when the time came. And Charlamaine is crying out for him."

Now I was even more confused.

"Just go back to your party. But, Griselda, if you see him again tonight, please tell me."

I didn't say anything. Going back to the party was a little harder. I really wanted to go the woods, to Mercy's home, and see what was happening. But I knew Zeb wouldn't allow it. Married less than three hours and already I was wishing I wasn't.

Zeb turned to me. "We'll leave in a few minutes. Everyone will think we're on our way to Jack Frost, but we'll stop by Mercy's first."

I threw my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Zeb. I have to know what happened. Mercy could be in trouble."

"I know."

I waited anxiously until Zeb signaled that we could leave. He stood and tapped his glass.

"I just want to say thank you to everyone for coming out on Christmas Eve to be part of this incredible day. Thank you for the food, the gifts, the fellowship, and—" he patted his thigh— "the cash. But Griselda and I have a reservation to keep up on Jack Frost, soooooo . . ."

"Have fun," someone hollered.

More applause and cheers as Zeb and I made our way out of the Sunshine Room and back to Agnes's room. I stopped at the door. "Should I get changed?"

"I think so, if we're going to Mercy's. I don't think you'd want to get your dress messed up back in those woods."

He followed me into the room and my nerves got the best of me. "Zeb, I . . . I need to change."

"I know. I had Studebaker bring me my blue jeans and a flannel. I'll change also."

"But . . . but, I'm nervous."

Zeb smiled and looked into my eyes. "You can change in the bathroom."

I snagged my clothes from Agnes's bed. "Good idea."

A few minutes later, we ran to the truck followed by friends tossing handfuls of rice and, I think, Rice Krispies. I figured the nursing home residents had an easier time finding cereal.

"Oh, good Lord," I said. "Will you look at that?" A large "JUST MARRIED" sign hung from the back and long ropes with tin cans and a pair of work boots hung from the bumper.

"You want me to take them off?"

"No. They'll get insulted."

"Let's go."

Zeb opened the driver's side door, and I climbed in thinking for a second that I would drive but he climbed in next to me and I moved over. He turned the ignition and Old Bessie started right up, almost like she knew there was an emergency.

"You sure you know where she lives?" Zeb asked.

"I do. But go to the library. It's easier to park there and then walk the rest of the way."

Snow must have been falling harder during the wedding as it had accumulated about an inch on the grass. The roads were still pretty clear, so Zeb drove fast into town, which was deserted on account of the wedding. Still, the carols blared from the speakers atop the town hall and the lights on the town Christmas tree shone bright. The huge star on the top seemed to light a small path toward the library. It was almost eerie to see the place with no people—kind of like a scary movie.

He stopped the truck at the library. "Let's go."

We hurried through the snowy woods as quickly as possible, twigs snapping and leaves crunching underfoot. We startled a deer who took off like a shot.

"Watch out for the traps," I said.

"I know, come on."

I saw Mercy's house. "There it is. Over there."

"That place?" Zeb said. "It doesn't look fit for mice or possums let along human beings."

"I know, but still, it's their home."

I didn't bother to knock and pulled open the door. I saw Doc crouching near Charlamaine who was lying on the bed. She was moaning and groaning. Mercy spotted us.

"Miz Griselda! You find him?"

"No, Mercy, I didn't. What's wrong with your mama?"

"I don't know if she'll make it," Doc said. "I should get her to the hospital, but the baby is coming."

"Baby?" I looked at Mercy. "I didn't even know your Mama was—"

"She's so thin," Doc said. "She didn't look it. The baby is early. Very early."

"Oh, dear."

Zeb took Mercy's hand. "Where's your daddy?"

"Don't know. He comes by now and again but then he leaves. Says he'll be back, but I never know."

Charlamaine cried out. I shuddered. "Dear Lord," I prayed. "Take care of this."

Zeb kept Mercy as far away from her mother as he could. But she kept breaking away. "Don't cry, Mama. The baby is coming."

I pretty much held my breath waiting to hear the baby cry. A few moments later Doc said, "It's a boy."

Zeb took his shirt off and handed it to Doc.

"He's not crying," I said.

Doc handed the tiny bundle to me. "Massage him, gently. Gently."

I sat on the floor and lightly touched the infant's chest not wanting to look at Doc who was busy with Charlamaine. I blew into his tiny face.

I saw so much blood out of the corner of my eye, my stomach ached. Zeb continued to shield Mercy until he couldn't anymore.

She cried, "Mama!"

Doc shook his head. Zeb carried Mercy outside.

The baby cried, just low, a whimper. "We got to get him to the hospital."

"What about . . ."

Doc shook his head. "She's gone. Too much blood."

I held the baby close while Doc looked at him. "Good. His color is good. Little, but—"

"What should I do?"

"I'll take care of things here. You and Zeb get the baby to the hospital."

"OK. But why did Mercy want Leon?"

Doc wiped the back of his neck. "It's weird. All I could ascertain from Charlamaine was that Leon said he would help when the time came. She had no one else. The midwife in these parts hasn't even been here. She didn't know Charlamaine was pregnant. Charlamaine only figured it out a few weeks ago."

I tried not to look at Charlamaine. But I couldn't help it. There was no peace on her face.

Zeb and Mercy waited on the porch. Mercy looked up at me. I leaned down and showed her the baby. "This is your brother."

Mercy smiled and touched his cheek. "Mama?"

I looked at Zeb and shook my head.

"Doc said we should take the baby to the hospital to get a checkup," I said.

"Mama?" Mercy said.

I held the baby as close as I could to my chest. Zeb took Mercy's hand. "Doc is taking care of her, Mercy. You come with us."

When we left the woods and arrived at the truck. Zeb ripped the tin cans from the fender and tossed the JUST MARRIED sign into the back. "Come on. We should hurry."

Snow fell harder as the winds whipped up. Zeb had the wipers going full speed and the heat going full blast. Mercy snuggled as near to me as she could. "Miz Griselda," she said. "What's gonna happen now?"

I leaned my head on hers. "It's going to be OK, Mercy. Zeb and I will take care of you and your brother."

Zeb put his arm around me. His fingers touched Mercy's shoulder. "That's right, honey. We're here."

 

 

Mercy and I sat in the waiting room while the doctor tended to the baby. Zeb went off with a nurse to explain what happened. He wasn't gone long before he came and got me.

"You need to sit here, Mercy," Zeb said. "Griselda and I have to talk to the nurse a minute."

"I can't leave her," I said.

"You have to. We'll be back." He smiled at Mercy and reached into his pocket. "I got you a candy bar from the vending machine." She eagerly took it.

"What's wrong?" I said when we were out of earshot.

"They're giving me trouble. They say with the mother dead and the father nowhere to be found, the children will be turned over to the state."

"What? No. We'll take them home with us."

"It's not that easy Griselda. We can't just take children."

"But . . . but they have no one else."

"There's a state home. Not far from here."

"No." Tears flowed down my cheeks. "I won't let them take her."

The nurse approached us. "I just got off the phone. They can take the girl tonight."

I noticed a small Christmas tree in the corner. "But . . . but it's Christmas Eve. Can't we just take her home with us? It's Christmas. Her mother just died. The baby." I sniffed.

The nurse shook her head. "I can't do anything. It's not up to me."

"But—" I fell into Zeb's arms.

"They'll send a social worker out tonight to get her. We'll keep her here."

"Well, I'm not leaving until—"

The nurse handed me some tissues. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Zeb and I walked back to the waiting room. "Let's just take her," I said.

"We can't do that."

"How's the baby?"

"Don't know. The doctor and nurse took him away. I haven't heard a thing."

I sat next to Mercy and pulled her close. "Mercy, I need to tell you something."

"I know, Miz Griselda. Mama's dead."

"That's right, honey, but there's something else."

She looked at me. I wiped chocolate from her mouth with my thumb. "You can't go back to your house tonight."

"Am I going to your house?"

I shook my head.

"The library. I can stay there. With all them books."

"No, Mercy. In a little while someone is going to come get you from—"

"From a special place for children," Zeb said.

"That's right, they need to find your daddy."

Mercy looked away. "They won't find him."

"But they have to look."

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