Miss Julia Stands Her Ground (7 page)

I tiptoed upstairs, resolved within myself to give Tina Doland a piece of my mind for going beyond the bounds of decency and good taste. Just as soon as I could do it without creating a public scene.

When I heard the door close behind the last guest, I left Little Lloyd softly snoring and went downstairs. Hazel Marie shot me a worried glance, then quickly looked away to concentrate on folding up the card table. I didn't say anything, just started moving chairs to their normal places.

“Miss Julia,” Hazel Marie finally said, as she straightened up and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “I didn't know what Tina was going to do, and I'm so sorry that you had to see it and be offended and all. She told me that she was only going to offer helpful suggestions for closer relationships.” She stopped and bit her lip. “I should've known something was up when she called it a passion party.”

“I should've, too,” I said, sighing, as I sat on the sofa. “It's unfortunate that we didn't. I declare, Hazel Marie, I didn't know such things were made, much less
used.
And for Tina to display them and offer them for sale like they were the most ordinary things in the world, well, it just did me in.”

“Me, too,” Hazel Marie admitted, as she took a seat beside me. “I was shocked, but a little fascinated, too. I mean, where else would you find such items? You couldn't just ask for them in a store.”

“I don't know who'd want them. I'm sure Tina didn't sell a thing.”

“Oh,” Hazel Marie said with a smile, “you'd be surprised. She did quite well. You should've stayed to see who ordered.”

“Just saying right out loud what they wanted? Oh, surely not, Hazel Marie.”

“No, what Tina did was give each of us an order form. We just checked what we wanted and gave them back to her. She's the only one who knows who got what.”

“That alone would disturb me,” I said.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, our minds occupied with the evening's activities.

Hazel Marie took a deep breath. “I might as well tell you, Miss Julia, I ordered something, too. But it was just that massage oil, because Tina said it was good for dry skin, and I thought I ought to buy something. But you don't have to worry,” she went on quickly, “it'll come in a plain brown wrapper, so nobody'll know.”

“No need to explain to me, Hazel Marie. I understand how these home parties can put you on the spot.” I let the silence stretch for a minute, then casually asked, “Who else placed orders?”

She giggled. “Practically everybody. And some of the ladies took forever because they were checking so many things.”

“Lord, Hazel Marie, what kind of woman would want any of it?” I leaned my head back on the sofa, just undone that I now had a whole new array of indecent thoughts cluttering up my mind.

“You should've seen what Tina had for men,” Hazel Marie went on, an awed tone in her voice. “I couldn't believe it. She showed us these ring things that go on a man's, . . . well, they're called pleasure rings, but seems like to me they'd really hurt. But the
names,
Miss Julia, you wouldn't believe the names of the toys she showed us. There was something called the Coochy-Coo and
something else called the Hot Potato. I never did get what you do with them.”

Since my mind couldn't seem to be swayed from further contemplation of those offensive items, I just gave in to it, and asked, “What about Mildred Allen? Did she buy anything?”

“Oh, Miss Julia, you should've seen her. She laughed and giggled and checked what looked like the whole form. She kept saying she wished Tonya had come, since Tonya probably needed all the help she could get.”

“Did she really? That is so tasteless, with everybody knowing that poor Tonya will have trouble finding a man. I'm surprised at Mildred. Who else, Hazel Marie? What about LuAnne? Did she get anything?”

“LuAnne was sitting behind Mildred, all scrooched up so I couldn't see what she was doing. But she sure took a long time doing it.”

“I guess it was a good thing that Emma Sue didn't come,” I said, with a rueful laugh. “She'd have been so shocked she'd never get over it.”

“I don't think she was invited,” Hazel Marie said. “And you noticed that the Baptist preacher's wife didn't come, either, didn't you? Tina's no fool. I can't imagine that her church really approves of these parties.”

“Yes, but she tried her hardest to bring a Christian slant to what she was selling.” I sat for a minute, thinking of how often commercial enterprises painted a layer of Christianity over their wares. It was enough to make a real Christian sick at heart.

I suddenly sat up. “Oh, my goodness, Hazel Marie. Tina showed those awful things in my house, and that means everybody's going to think I condone using them. This is going to ruin my witness, and here I am, practically an elder.”

“You mean you're going to run?” Hazel Marie asked. “Oh, I'm so glad. Everybody wants you to.”

“I still haven't made up my mind. But if Pastor Ledbetter hears
about what was flagrantly displayed in my living room, he might well have grounds to disbar me before I even get started.”

A door closed in the back of the house, and we both turned toward it. “That's Sam,” I said, smiling and getting to my feet. “We'd better defer this conversation. I wouldn't want to shock him.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean. I can't wait to see J.D.'s face when I . . .” She came to an abrupt stop, her hand flying to her mouth. “Not that I would tell him. I mean, since we're not married or anything.”

What went on between Hazel Marie and Mr. Pickens was one of those matters that I didn't want to know about. To ease her embarrassment, I said, “I expect Mr. Pickens knows all he wants to know, and he wouldn't need a party to teach him anything new.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and laughing. “He's forever surprising me with what he knows.” She turned away, her face reddening even more. “I didn't mean anything by that, Miss Julia, but I think I better go on to bed. I keep putting my foot in my mouth.”

 

Later, when we'd been in bed for some little while, Sam said, “How was the party? Did you have a good time?”

“Let's just say I'll never go to another one.”

We lay there in the dark, breathing together. I pulled the blanket up over my shoulders, noting how the nights were getting remarkably cooler. It was most pleasant having someone warm next to me. Then Sam turned over, letting a rush of cold air under the covers.

“Sam?” I said, as his breathing slowed, and I, myself, was about to drop off.

“Hm-m-m?”

“I'm glad we don't need any substitutes in this marriage.”

“I am, too, Julia,” he mumbled. After a minute or so, he raised his head and spoke over his shoulder. “What brought that on?”

“Oh, nothing. Just being thankful for what I have, and relieved we don't have to buy it at a Tupperware party.”

 

It was midmorning on the following day when Sam called me from his house, where he'd been working on his legal history.

“Julia? Vernon Puckett just called. He's on his way over, and I thought you might want to be here, too.”

My heart rate jumped up a few notches. “Is he bringing proof? Or what he
thinks
is proof?”

“I don't know what he's bringing. He just said we needed further discussion about the wool that's being pulled over our eyes.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes.” Brother Vern made me so tired, I had to sit down. “Did he say he wanted to talk to me?”

Sam laughed. “No, this is my idea. I think it's about time he faced you with his allegations. I want to see his reaction when he has to look you in the eye and say that Hazel Marie has lied to you.”

“I'll be right over.”

 

Sam met me at the front door and ushered me into his study, which badly needed some organization. Books were stacked on the floor by his desk, and old newspapers and county records were piled on chairs and stuffed into bookshelves.

“You need to let James in here to straighten up for you,” I said, as Sam helped me out of my coat.

“I wouldn't let James in here for love nor money. Everything's just where I want it. Here, let me move these files.” Sam cleared a space on the leather sofa for me to sit down. As he did, the doorbell rang, and we gave each other a significant look, preparing ourselves for what was to come.

As Sam went to the door, I couldn't sit still. Getting to my feet to greet Hazel Marie's uncle and tormentor, I mentally girded myself to hear him out. Then I'd know how to cut him off at the knees.

“Ah, Mrs. Springer,” Brother Vern said as he entered the room, seemingly unsurprised to see me waiting for him. “Oh, I guess I'm behind the times. I hear it's Mrs. Murdoch now. May I extend my heartfelt congratulations to the both of you. Marriage is a gift of God, bestowed upon us to illustrate the love of Christ for his church, and I'm sure that your marriage is like unto a perfect example of it. Remember, though, that the family that prays together, stays together.”

Not necessarily, I thought, as he took my hand in both of his and smiled in his unctuous way. He could've wished us well and left it at that, but, like many preachers, he couldn't pass up a chance to preach. Brother Vern hadn't changed much since the last time I'd seen him, except he wasn't wearing his white summer suit. He had on a navy pinstripe, although the pinstripes were a little wide for my taste. His red tie almost matched his face, flushed as it was from the windy day and perhaps from the weight he carried. His hair was blacker than I remembered it, bringing to mind thoughts of Grecian Formula, which I couldn't necessarily fault him for, considering Velma's efforts with my own head of hair. Still, it always takes me aback to see dyed hair on a man. Vanity is so unbecoming, especially when there're no highlights to make it look natural.

“Have a seat, Mr. Puckett,” Sam said, as he and I sat on the sofa.

“Brother Vern,” Brother Vern said warmly. “Call me Brother Vern, for all us Christians are members of God's family. Now, Brother Sam and Sister Murdoch, I know that I've brought a ton of worry down on your heads, but I couldn't let this state of affairs continue on unabated. None of us is gettin' any younger, and the time's a-comin' when the roll's gonna be called up yonder for every one of us, and I know you don't want to leave a mess down here behind you. But that's exactly what you'll do if you don't get it straightened out now. Why, I tell you, there'll be nothing but lawsuits and legal wranglin's the likes of which you can't even imagine if you let things go on as they are now.”

“You'll have to be more specific than that,” I said, determined to pin him down. I just was not going to let vague insinuations stand in for absolute proof, which I knew he couldn't possibly have.

He gave me a brief stare, his black eyes boring into mine, as if he was unaccustomed to being brought up short by a woman. But since we weren't in church, I was under no Biblical injunction to keep silence.

He breathed heavily and noisily, being so cramped up in the soft leather chair that he could hardly get his breath good. His thick thighs, which I tried not to look at, were spraddled out to make room for the extra pounds in his midsection.

“Brother Sam,” he said, switching his attention to my husband, “this is weighin' heavy on my heart, and I just can't bring myself to discuss these, well, these licentious matters in the presence of a godly woman. If it's all right with you, I'd ruther meet in private.” Then with a nod in my direction, he said, “No offense, ma'am.”

I came right back at him. “Oh, but there is offense. If you have something against Hazel Marie, you'd better speak up now or forever hold your peace. I am the one who's affected, not Sam. And it's my decisions that you've questioned, so let's hear what you have to say.”

I think he glared at me, but he quickly pulled himself together. “You'll have to forgive me, Sister Murdoch. I'm not used to discussing personal and, may I say, dissolute matters with the fair sex.” He shot a beseeching look at Sam but got no help from that quarter. Then, with a rasping breath, he said, “But since you insist, I'll just tell you that, as hard as it is for me to say out loud, my niece was a loose woman in her young days. And I don't expect she's changed much, in spite of having the Lord's own wealth showered down on her through your good offices. But what she's up to now is neither here nor there. Back before that boy was
born, she took up with whoever'd have her, and there was plenty who would. I praised the Lord when Mr. Wesley Lloyd Springer came in the picture, thinking he'd settle her down and keep her from jumpin' from one bed to the other. Not that I could wink at adultery, you understand, but that girl needed a firm hand.” He paused, glancing toward me to measure the effect of his words. “Now, see, Sister Murdoch, I didn't want to have to bring up such hurtful things in front of you, but the facts is facts.”