Through an open window, p.27
Through an Open Window, page 27
“It’s like something an angel would wear,” whispered Margaret.
“I’ll wear my hair down,” said Emlynn.
“And it’s got pockets,” said Mouse, triumphantly.
“I’ve got to go get my phone and text a picture of this to Harriet,” said Margaret, her hands on each side of her face. “That woman told me, not an hour ago, she could see you in something yellow, and I swear I still don’t know how she seems to know these things before they happen.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” said Mouse, turning back to the dress. “To tell you the truth, I was prepared for some sort of monstrosity, but when Kitty said it was a Vera Wang, I thought I’d give it a try.”
“And she doesn’t want anything for it?” asked Emlynn. She was running the soft velvet bow through her fingers. “I mean, there’s no way we could afford something like this.”
“No worries there,” said Mouse, lifting a handful of tulle in the air and watching it float back down to the floor, so light it fell in slow motion. “This is pocket change for the Goldsmiths. Besides, Paris had it altered several times, so Kitty couldn’t take it back if she wanted to. I think it’ll make her feel better if somebody wears it today like she planned. And that somebody is you.” She sat down on Margaret’s bed. “Let’s see now,” she said, crossing her legs and taking a large green folder out of her tote bag. “I still feel like there’s something I’ve forgotten to do.” She counted things off on her fingers. “My girls are here setting up in the kitchen, and I know they have everything under control. The flowers and chairs are here. Kitty said the string quartet would arrive around four. I’ll need to talk to them about their set list. Make sure they know something appropriate, some old hymns or Vivaldi, something like that. Knowing Paris, she’ll have told them to play Lil Nas X and DaBaby.”
Emlynn burst out laughing. Mouse looked up, completely nonplussed. “I’ve got college-age kids, don’t forget,” she said, peering at Emlynn from over the top of her reading glasses. She tapped a pencil against the Goldsmiths’ green folder, her finger traveling down the list of things still left to be sorted.
“Lawrie has asked Tom to be his best man,” said Emlynn, sitting down on the other side of the bed. Mouse looked up in surprise. “And…” Emlynn hesitated, then said, shyly, “and I’d like you to be my matron of honor. If that’s all right.”
Mouse looked back at the list in her lap, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. Trying hard to compose herself, she reached over and squeezed Emlynn’s hand. After a long moment, she swallowed hard and whispered, “I’d love to be your matron of honor, Em.” She looked toward the door, then back at Emlynn, her voice low. “Was Kitty right? Did you find out if you’re—”
“Pregnant?” Emlynn interjected immediately, grinning. “Oh yeah, your friend must be some kind of witch, I guess. I’ve taken about a dozen tests since she told me, and that pink line just keeps coming up pinker and pinker. This morning it looked like somebody drew it in neon. If that’s any indication, I might be having quadruplets.”
“What did Lawrie say?”
Emlynn blushed. “I still haven’t told him.”
“What? Why not?”
“There’s just been…been too much going on. I want the moment to be special, you know? Between John, and—” Emlynn stopped suddenly, looking down at her hands. “Look, I’m sorry I brought all those letters over to your house the way I did. With no warning, or anything. Especially after how we left each other at your office the other day. I shouldn’t have just laid those on you, but I thought somebody should have them, and I wondered if maybe they’d help. But I shouldn’t have assumed like that…”
Mouse took a deep breath, shaking her head. “No, Emlynn. It’s me that needs to apologize. For the way I treated you at the office. There’s no excuse. All I can say is…Well, I don’t know what to say except that I haven’t been myself. Not since…well, not since Daddy died. I didn’t really think anyone had noticed, thought I was hiding it all so well, but last week Nicky told me I’d been dead wrong about that. Apparently, grief can mess you up if you don’t know how to deal with it. And I’m finding out that I don’t.” She shook her head slowly back and forth. “I never believed there was going to be anything to that picture you found in the dollhouse, you know? That old newspaper clipping? I didn’t dream somebody would turn up claiming to be part of the family because of those. But then I sat in Nathan Culpepper’s office and listened to my own mother tell him that she’d been seeing Aunt Edith’s ghost, and I have to tell you, that scared me half to death. It still does, if I’m honest. It…it made me feel so alone. Made me miss Daddy more than ever. When you came over on Wednesday, I’d just realized, well…to be honest, I think…and if you tell anybody this, I swear I’ll deny it…but, I might have seen Aunt Edith myself.”
Emlynn’s eyes were round, a tiny smile on her face. “I know,” said Mouse, holding her hand out as though pushing something away. “I’m not saying it makes any sense, and I’m still not sure I believe it. But Mother’s convinced Aunt Edith led her to John, she told us all that. And then when he showed up in the flesh Tuesday night, saying Daddy had known all about him, that they’d corresponded for years…well…I can’t explain it, but I felt…not only afraid, but…I don’t know, almost jealous, I guess. Like, how dare there be someone who had something of him that I didn’t.” Mouse looked out to Margaret’s balcony, its pale blue wooden floor an inch deep in leaves. A minute passed, during which both women stayed silent.
“You know, I haven’t been able to cry for my father? Not once, since the morning he died. But those letters you brought over…” Mouse sighed, closing her eyes. “Reading those just cracked me in two. It was like I could hear Daddy’s voice. I’ve learned so much more about my father from reading them. And about John, too. I mean, I’ve had this person who loved me, loved us all, just standing off in the shadows all my life. And I never even knew he was there.” Mouse reached up and wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve. “No, you were right to bring them to me, and kind, too, after the haughty way I treated you Wednesday. These letters really are such a gift, and if Aunt Edith had something to do with you finding them…” Mouse smiled at the way Emlynn’s face lit up at this thought. “Well, I guess we’ll just never know. Of course, I tell myself there’s still no real concrete proof that John Dilbeck is my mother’s brother. But I know now that he believes he is, and Daddy did, too. That’s going to have to be good enough for me, I suppose.”
“Thanks for saying all that, Mouse,” said Emlynn, softly. “I’m glad you’re going to give John a chance. So much good has been happening since he came here.”
The idea came to Mouse like something meant to be; still, she waited for a moment before she said, “Have you…have you thought about who’s going to give you away? I mean, it’s up to you, of course, and originally, I was going to offer up Nicky. He’d be the most logical choice, I suppose. But now…” She rose and walked to the balcony door, opening it wider. She could smell the fragrance of roses wafting up from the yard. “I was wondering whether John should do it. I know Mother would like that. I mean, it’s totally up to you whether you want to ask him. It’s just an idea.” She looked over her shoulder at Emlynn, who beamed back at her.
“I think that would be great,” said Emlynn. “Standing there in front of a preacher, getting married in that beautiful dress? With Lawrie, you, Tommy, and John, right beside us? Right now, that sounds like the most perfect thing in the world.”
Mouse whirled around. “A preacher!” she said. “Oh no. That’s what I forgot! There’s no way in hell Fat Elvis is doing this wedding!”
“What?” said Emlynn, sensing Mouse’s panic and looking confused. Mouse reached across her and grabbed up the Goldsmiths’ green folder. “Don’t worry,” she said, turning to leave the room. “I’ll take care of this. You just put your feet up and rest for a while.” She pointed toward Margaret’s bathroom door. “Take a hot bath. She’s got plenty of your bath salts in there and you know how great those are.” Mouse smiled reassuringly and rushed from the room, already punching the Elvis impersonator’s number into her phone.
Once he knew no one expected him to return the fee he’d already been paid, the man seemed only too happy to hear that the wedding was canceled. Mouse pictured him hanging that rhinestone white jumpsuit back up in his closet, then cracking open a beer, and she almost laughed right out loud. She stood at the landing window, staring down into the bustling backyard. The beige wooden chairs were now all in place, a white silk bow tied on the back of each one. A center aisle sliced between them, pointing straight toward a half circle of lawn at the end of the yard bordered by large floppy hydrangeas. In a few hours, Lawrie and Emlynn would stand right there, sheltered beneath the yellow-leafed branches of poplar trees. Mouse could almost see them. And the idea came to her then. She dialed Nick’s number.
“Honey,” she said, when he answered. “Do you think your friend Allison Whipple might be up for a wedding tonight?”
31
Margaret
The string quartet were on their second song, a lyrical rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, the same song Forrest Elliot had played on Aunt Edith’s piano as Margaret walked down that row of pecan trees on her own wedding day years ago. Forrest had pulled the piano right up to a wide-open window and played it as loud as he could so it could be heard clearly over the birdsong outside.
They’d gotten married in August, two months after Aunt Edith died. Standing here in the dim light, looking out the den window at the lights twinkling in the low limbs of the poplars, Margaret remembered how small she’d felt that morning walking out under the pecan trees toward Lawrence in the white dress his sister, Prudie, had made for her from a Vogue pattern she’d found at Trudy Magill’s fabric shop down on the square. Prudie had worked on that dress for weeks. She’d helped weave daisies all through Margaret’s dark hair.
Nothing could ever take those memories from her. If she’d been asked what she would change if she could, Margaret would have easily labeled that a useless, ridiculous question. No one possesses the power to change what’s already happened. All you can do is move forward. She’d had no choice in the life she’d been given, and to those people who’d kept her away from the hard truths of her past, well, she supposed she should only be grateful. Like John said, it had all been done out of love.
People were assembling in the yard, but no one could see her here in the dark. Apparently, very few of the Goldsmiths’ guests had decided to drive across town for the wedding of two people they’d never met, and the seats were now being filled by neighbors and friends of the various Elliots, most of whom had happily canceled more ordinary Friday night plans. Following the express wishes of Emlynn and Lawrie, none of these people were dressed for a wedding, something that broadcast how delighted both bride and groom were by the impromptu nature of this happy event.
Margaret could see Nick escorting Lawrie’s receptionist, Rosie—the girl in a white pair of pants and a wooly black sweater—to her seat on the groom’s side of the aisle. Next to Rosie sat Ray Kuckleburg and his wife, both looking around as though neither was quite sure why they were here. She knew some of her friends would be livid, but when asked if there was anyone she wanted to invite on such short notice, Margaret had been so flustered, the mailman was the only name she’d come up with. Well, that was fine, she thought now. He’d known the family for years. Without really meaning to, Margaret couldn’t help but scan the crowd for Aunt Edith, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Behind her, she heard the door open, and turning, she saw Harriet enter the room, her wrinkled face stippled with white from the lights outside in the trees, Gatsby in the large black purse on her arm. The Chihuahua was wearing a tiny bow tie. Margaret laughed out loud as Harriet closed the door and went over to stand beside her.
“Beautiful dress,” said Harriet. “You’ve always looked good in green. By the way, I put in a special song request with that quartet, one just for you,” she said, grinning and draping one arm around Margaret’s shoulders. “You’ll know it when you hear it.” Harriet craned her neck to take in the whole of the backyard. “Well, this is something now, isn’t it?” she said, as both she and Gatsby looked out over the scene. “Like something straight out of a fairy tale. All those lights up there in the trees.”
“Yes, and I’m so glad the Hollifields finally got that ugly old limb taken down from their roof. That thing would’ve been hideous. It was huge. Can you imagine? Would’ve ruined the whole picture.”
Harriet snickered. “You still don’t know?” she said.
“Know what?”
“Tom pulled that thing down. First morning he was here. Gatsby and I saw him when we were coming back from our walk. Up there in his undershorts with a chain saw.”
“What? No. That’s the morning he was so sick. That couldn’t have been him.”
“Well, it was. We watched the whole thing. Saw him ride that limb down to the ground like a cowboy. Thought for sure he’d injured himself, but he popped back up before I could pull out my phone to call 911. I could hear him laughing from out in the street.”
Margaret stood still, looking out the window. The string quartet had switched from classical to religious, the notes of “Be Thou My Vision” drifting into the room. “Have you seen the kids?” asked Margaret. “Or Jubal? I’ve been down here for the past hour and haven’t seen any of them. I guess they’re all getting ready.”
“Well, let’s see,” said Harriet. “The last time I saw Jubal he was heading upstairs with John. Mouse just left the kitchen, so she’s probably with Emlynn.”
“I better go on up. Just wait till you see Emlynn in that dream of a dress. You wait here if you want, I’ll send Tommy to escort you to your seat.” Turning to leave, Margaret heard the familiar song and felt her knees buckle. She sat down heavily on the arm of the sofa as the quartet outside began to play “Love Lifted Me.”
“That’s the song you requested?” Margaret said, her eyes searching Harriet’s face.
“No,” said Harriet, still gazing out the window. “I never heard that song in my life. What is it?” She turned to face Margaret. “What’s the matter with you? You’ve gone all white.”
“That’s…that’s the song Aunt Edith’s been playing on the piano at night,” said Margaret, slowly. “ ‘Love Lifted Me.’ This old hymn that she used to play all the time when I was little. Are you sure you didn’t ask them to play it?”
Harriet smiled. “Of course not,” she said, walking over to place her hand onto Margaret’s shoulder. “It’s just Aunt Edith’s way of letting you know that she’s here.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” said Margaret, softly.
Harriet sat down beside her. “Do you have to? Understand it, I mean? I don’t think my father ever understood why his own father appeared to him that night I told you about. But like my mother said, Dad’s whole life changed afterward. What was there to understand but that? If it’s any comfort, I don’t think you’ll see Aunt Edith again. She’s done what she came to do. Just rest in the mystery of that if you can.”
The old hymn had finished, and the musicians had moved on to Elvis. “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Margaret rose to leave, patting Harriet gratefully on the arm as she did so. “I need to go up and check on Emlynn and Mouse,” she said, just as the den door opened.
Tommy stood there in one of Lawrie’s best suits. “Perfect fit,” he said, grinning and turning around in a circle. “That’s the good thing about being a twin, I suppose. Come on, Miss Spalding. Don’t you look pretty. I’ll escort you and Gatsby down the aisle to your seat.”
32
Mouse
Emlynn and Mouse stood in front of the mirror in Margaret’s bedroom, wearing identical expressions of awe. Blinking, Mouse reached over for the glass of sparkling water she’d snitched from downstairs and held it up in the air. “Emily Lynn Cates, soon to be Elliot, you are, without a doubt, the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. And don’t forget, I do a whole lot of weddings. I’ve seen a whole lot of brides.” Emlynn’s eyes grew bright with tears and Mouse immediately changed tack. “Oh no, you don’t,” she said, pushing her glass toward Emlynn. “Don’t you dare cry and ruin that makeup. Here, take a swig of this.”
Emlynn did as she was told, looking over at Margaret’s bedside clock. Mouse squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll go get him,” she said.
Closing the door behind her, Mouse stood for a second in the dimly lit hallway, then took a deep breath and turned toward the guest room.
John Dilbeck was standing over his suitcase, one hand on his chin. Mouse stayed where she was in the doorway, saying nothing, watching as he lifted out one shirt after the other, laying them on the bed, and frowning. Finally, she cleared her throat softly, and John turned quickly around.
“It’s almost time,” said Mouse.
John stood up a little bit straighter. “You sure this is okay with you, Agatha?”
“It was my idea,” Mouse replied.
John nodded toward the closet, where a gray suit hung on the doorframe. “Lawrie brought over a gray one for me and a brown one for Tom. We’re going to look a little mismatched, I’m afraid, but neither of us brought a suit with us. Only trouble is, I was just looking, and I don’t seem to have a shirt that’ll go. All I packed was plaid. I should’ve said something before now.”
