Bittersweet, p.33
Bittersweet, page 33
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have considerable work to accomplish.”
“Of course you do. And this is such a nice job for you. Genteel. I’ve seen how that Ishmael Grubb has been trailing along after you. We’ll have to find him someone of his own class. You’ve been so gracious, but he’s so far beneath—”
Laney pulled herself out of the trunk.
“Mr. Grubb is a fine man.” Amanda’s voice trembled with outrage. “The finest I’ve ever known. He has more honor than any of the so-called ‘gentlemen’ I’ve met in the upper echelons of Southern society.”
Ethel spluttered.
“A harder-working man doesn’t exist, and in the short time he’s been a believer, he’s grown tremendously in the Lord.”
“Oh dear. You must be lonesome and homesick. You don’t want to make a mistake—”
Amanda grabbed a book from a nearby bookcase. “Ma’am, I have made a mistake. You shouldn’t wait a week until the library opens to borrow a book, and I know just the one for you. I believe you ought to read this right away.”
“What is … I already have a Bible!”
“Then I’d invite you to read Philippians 2:3. ‘Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.”’
Ethel smacked the Bible down on the nearest surface and stomped out.
Laney rose. She would have gone to Amanda, but Ishmael beat her there. “God changes hearts,” Ishmael said quietly.
Amanda sucked in a sharp breath. She turned and looked at him with wide eyes and crimson cheeks. “You heard me?”
“Shore did.” He reached down and cupped her jaw, his thumb rubbing an arc across Amanda’s cheek. “If ’n God decides to change a heart, I’m hopin’ He changes Miz Ethel’s and not yourn, on account of the fact that I ain’t niver a-gonna find me a woman half as special as you.”
Laney sank back out of sight. The moment a man and woman professed their affection was supposed to be private. Lord, I’m so glad for them. Truly, I am. But I dreamed of a day when Galen would speak to me of his love. That’s impossible now, and my heart won’t mend. What am I to do?
“Lookee here at this’un.” Ivy tapped her finger on the book she’d borrowed from the library. “Thank I could stitch that on the blanket?”
“Perfect!” Laney handed her a sheet of rice paper. “Here. Notice how you can see through this? Trace the design lightly with a pencil, and then we can transfer the letter to the blanket.”
“You’ll learn me how to do them fancy stitches?”
“That’s all satin stitch. The length widens and narrows is all.”
They sat side-by-side in the shade, embroidering. Laney started humming.
“We sung that in church last week, didn’t we?”
“Yes.” Laney began to sing, “ ‘Father, whose everlasting love—”’
“Stop right thar.” Ivy went sheet white. “You sing and talk ’bout yore heavenly Father. Well, me? I don’t want no pa.”
Laney felt sick. She hadn’t thought about what she’d been singing.
Ivy whispered to the hands she’d knotted in her lap, “You know what mine done.”
“And it breaks my heart, Ivy.”
“You cain’t understand. Ever’body else gots a pa what done ’em proud.”
“Not me.” Laney’s hands knotted in her own lap. “My father was a horrible man. He fooled us all until the very end, but we found out that he was a murderer. He was a liar and a cheat and a thief. He even tried to kill Ruth.”
“Yore putting me on.”
“It’s the truth, Ivy.” Laney looked at her friend. “I never speak of my father because I’m so ashamed of what he did. You and I both had earthly fathers who did wicked things. But think, Ivy; we have a second chance because we have a heavenly Father who loves us.”
“Nuh-unh. If ’n yore God was so good, He oughtn’t have let bad thangs happen.”
“He allows bad things to happen, Ivy. We don’t always understand why. Just as we have the privilege to be His children, we also are given the choice to turn our back on Him. Good and bad bump against each other. The sad truth is, sometimes innocent people pay the consequences for someone else’s wrongs. God doesn’t desert us, though. He stays beside us in the midst of those circumstances.”
“Well, my circumstances are gettin’ the better of me. Cain’t see my feet no more. Cain’t fit into but two of my dresses, neither.” Ivy suddenly threw back her head and laughed until she snorted.
“What’s so funny?”
“Me! Jist a year ago, I only had that ratty flour-sack dress. Now I’m wallowin’ in the poor-pitiful-me’s on account of the fact that I cain only fit into two nice ones.”
“Miss Laney!” Dale shouted as he ran up. He held a piglet under his arm. “Galen said if the pigs got out again, we’d be eating pork roast for a month. You gotta help me. You’re my partner.”
“Go put him back in—”
“Hi, Galen!” Ivy said loudly.
Laney grabbed the piglet and stuffed it beneath her hem.
“I got chores to do.” Dale scampered off as Galen drew close.
The piglet snorted.
Ivy promptly laughed and made a snorting sound. “’Tis funny. You have to admit, ’tis.”
“What’s funny?” Galen asked.
“Ivy,” Laney blurted out. “She was just bemoaning the fact that only two dresses fit, but then she realized a year ago she only owned one dress.”
The piglet and Ivy snorted in unison.
Galen’s brow puckered. “Ivy, I’ve said all along that you need to go to church, but if you’re feeling it would be uncomfortable now, you could stay home.”
“I reckon my place is aside you.”
The piglet started rubbing his snout on Laney’s ankle. She smothered her giggle as best she could. When Galen gave her a questioning look, she pasted on a smile. “Isn’t it wonderful that she’s coming to worship?”
Galen nodded.
The piglet started to move, so Laney quickly trapped him between her ankles. Afraid Galen wondered what all the motion was about, she leaned forward. “I’ve managed to get lint all over myself, sewing.”
“Me too.” Ivy bobbed her head.
“It’s a worthy cause.” Laney couldn’t resist looking at Ivy and explained, “We’re doing everything we can for the little one.”
Ivy grabbed the tracing she’d made and waved it. “Uh-huh!”
“Are you showing me something or fanning yourself?”
At the same instant, Laney answered, “Showing!” while Ivy said, “Fanning!”
Galen reached up and shoved back an errant lock of hair.
“Laney, did’ja notice how good Galen’s arm healed? Cain hardly tell whar he got cut.”
Galen didn’t give her a chance to reply. His nose wrinkled. “What am I smelling?”
“It’s a new scent I’m trying.” Laney found another speck of lint as she translated piglet into French. “Eau de porcelet.”
“I might try it someday, too!” Ivy chimed in.
“Don’t.” Galen studied the toes of his boots. “You gals go on and enjoy your sewing.”
As he walked off, Laney glanced down to see a pink spiraling tail sticking out from beneath her hem. She pointed at it and whispered, “That proves you were right! You can hide a baby under all these hoops!”
Galen didn’t look back, but he called, “If that piglet isn’t in the sty in five minutes, I’m going to barbecue it!”
“We still ain’t et no pork,” Ivy said to Laney as they entered church that Sunday.
Laney winked and compressed her hoops so she could slide into the pew. Ivy didn’t make any mention about how Ruth sat by the aisle. Ivy sat across the aisle between Ma, who had the aisle seat, and Galen. She whispered, “Ruth’s skin sorta matches her eyes.”
“Maybe Laney let her borrow that new perfume,” Galen said. He gave his wife a sly look.
Ivy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. The rest of the service, she barely noticed how Galen and Ma kept trading off and fanning her. The parson was preachifying like he always did, but Ivy couldn’t tear herself away from what he was saying. It was like he was talking to her—just to her and nobody else.
John Wall got up and started singing. Chills went up her spine as he kept on singing in a strong, deep voice about amazing grace. Ivy reached over and gripped Galen’s hand. He smiled at her.
“Gimme Dale.”
Galen dipped down and murmured, “Church is almost over.”
She squeezed his hand. “I know! Gimme Dale. I want him.” Not willing to wait, Ivy let go of Galen and reached around his back to Dale, who was sitting on his other side. “C’mere, Dale.”
Fighting her skirts, Ivy bumped past Ma and dragged Dale along in her wake. Once in the aisle, she pulled Dale in front of her and cupped his shoulders as the song ended.
“Ivy,” Galen asked, “what are you doing?”
“You done read it to me. The Good Book says a little child’s supposed to lead ’em. I’m fixin’ to go up to the hitchin’ post, and Dale here cain holp me jist like he done for Ishy.”
“Dale,” Pastor Dawes said, “bring your sister to the altar.”
Ivy took one step, then halted. “Parson, me hitchin’ myself to God—that’ll make Laney and Ruth and ’Manda my sisters, won’t it?”
“Yes, it will.”
“Cain they come holp me, too? And Galen and Ishy and Ma?”
Parson pronounced a benediction and dismissed everyone else, and the people she loved made a big circle around her at the front of the church. After asking Jesus into her heart, Ivy said, “I been thankin’ on what I wanna promise God.”
“Why don’t you tell us what that means?” Galen said.
“When folks get hitched, they both gotta make promises. Jesus promised to take away my sins and live in my heart. So now I reckon ’tis time I speak my piece.”
Galen clasped her hand. “You go right on ahead.”
“Okay. I reckon ’tis like when we got married.”
“But now you’re not Ivy Grubb,” Laney said softly. “You’re Ivy O’Sullivan.”
Galen and the parson nodded.
“Okay. God, I’m Ivy O’Sullivan.” Ivy remembered what she’d promised on Christmas Day and changed the words so they’d fit. “From now on, I’ll be yore daughter. I’ll do my best for you and all this kin I’m a-gettin’.”
“Amen,” everyone said together.
As they stepped out of the church, Ivy was amazed at how everyone was standing out in the yard. It was almost like they were waiting for her. Folks crowded around her and gave her hugs and said nice things.
Lester from the mercantile stepped forward. “It’s good to see Ivy found her way to the Lord and repented of her sinful ways. Galen, did you repent, too?”
“If ’n Galen done anything wrong, ain’t that s’posed to be betwixt him and God?”
Lester stammered, and Galen pulled Ivy close to his side.
“Let’s—”
Suddenly she understood what Lester meant. Ivy pushed away from Galen. “I gotta say sommat. All y’all listen here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ivy, no.” Galen tried to tug her back. “I lied. I was sore afraid and I tole a dreadful bad lie.” She knew they’d be mean to her, but at least she could right her wrong. “Galen here ain’t my baby’s pa.”
“He’s not?!” Ethel nearly shrieked.
Ivy could feel Galen as he stepped close and rested his arm around her shoulders. “But I’m honored to be the baby’s daddy.”
“A lot of people here have been gossiping and judging.” Laney reached out and took Ivy’s hand. “All of us are sinners. Instead of judging and condemning, we’re called to confess and forgive.”
Ivy watched as folks suddenly started moving around and talking. The same people who’d been mean started stepping forward and sheepishly asking for forgiveness. Some of the ladies promised to come help with the baby after it was born.
As the crowd thinned, Ivy dragged Laney off to the side. “Do we gotta tell ever’body ever’thang we done a-wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we was hidin’ that piglet, was that a sin? You tole Galen ’bout yore per-fume.”
“I said it was a new scent. Many colognes and perfumes have names that start with eau de. Those are French words. I added the French word for piglet. So I was completely honest when I told Galen he smelled the scent of a piglet. If you think we did something wrong, though, we can go to him and ask for forgiveness.”
“Nah. We promised Dale we’d holp him. But we gotta ’nother problem.”
“What?”
“Them lil’ pigs shore are cute. If ’n you and Dale decide to go butcherin’ or sellin’ ’em off, I’m a-warnin’ you now not to look ’neath my hem. I’ll hide as many as I cain.”
“No one would ever look beneath your dress, Ivy. It’s simply not done.” Laney’s eyes sparkled. “We can’t allow anyone to discover that we have limbs beneath these hoops!”
“Well, finally. All them dumb rules are comin’ in handy.”
The porch felt crowded. Laney took another sip of tea and wondered what Miss Genevieve would advise her to do. Lester sat to her right, and Eddie sat on her left. Both had showed up on Monday afternoon without an invitation. Eddie had brought a big fist full of wild flowers. Lester had brought a chocolate bar. They glowered at one another.
Toledo tromped up, pulled off his hat, and wiped his brow. “Laney, I’m going to need your help.”
She grasped at the opportunity to get away from the awkward situation. “Of course I’ll help. Just tell me what you need.”
“Can’t you see Laney’s already busy?” Lester sounded as if Toledo had swiped the chocolate and sent him home.
Well, maybe that’s close to what will happen. Laney smothered a smile. “Toledo wouldn’t ask unless it was important, Lester. What do you need, Toledo?”
“Can’t say for sure.” He shifted his weight and grimaced. “Mostly, I’m going to need help handling Hilda.”
Laney walked over to him. Eddie and Lester flanked her.
Toledo cast a look at the house, then confessed, “Someone left the gate open. Coupla cows wandered over to the clothesline.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes.” Toledo’s voice sounded funereal.
Laney thought for a moment. As awful as the situation was, it could have been worse. Hilda liked to split laundry into two days; at least today wasn’t the day all of Laney and Ruth’s unmentionables would be hanging to dry.
Lester cleared his throat. “Well, I need to be getting back to the store. Laney, I have a whole box of those imported chocolate bars in the back room of the mercantile if you want them.”
“You’ve told her that three times already,” Eddie said. He gave Toledo a man-to-man look. “He brought her a candy and is trying to sell her more. You’d think she’s a hog instead of a pretty woman.”
“I’d never insult Miss Laney like that!” Lester’s shoulders went back and his chest stuck out. He reminded her of a scrappy little rooster.
“Gentlemen,” Laney said in a low tone. “We’re all friends here.”
“You can all be friends,” Toledo said. “But Hilda’s another matter. Once she gets her dander up …” He rolled his eyes.
“I will help.” Eddie managed to sound stalwart. “What do we need to do?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking Laney for help.”
Lester strode to the side of the house, gawked around to the back and whistled under his breath. “Toledo, you’re going to have to come clean and tell Hilda.” He gave Eddie a dirty look, then repeated, “I have to get back to the store. I’ll see you soon, Laney.”
Eddie perked up. “Come clean. That is what we will do. We will make the clothes come clean. Laney, you go in the house. While you keep Hilda busy, Toledo and I—we’ll wash the clothes again.”
Relief eased the worry lines in Toledo’s face. “You know how to do laundry?”
Laney stared at Eddie in amazement.
“What is there to it? We’ll just have to rinse them, ja?”
“Most of them, probably.” The worry lines returned to Toledo’s forehead.
“Gut! Laney, you go keep Hilda busy.”
Laney went inside and found Hilda in the kitchen. From the corner of the window, she could see Toledo and Eddie gathering up shirts and britches. She pulled out the cookbook. “I thought maybe you and I could copy a few recipes for Ivy. Ones she could read. What do you recommend?”
“Where did your suitors go?”
“Lester needed to tend the store. Eddie is … helping Toledo with a project.”
“That Eddie—he’s a hardworking man. Strong as an ox, too. He’s a good man, Laney.”
“So is Toledo. Well, he’s not as strong as an ox, but he’s as smart as a whip.”
“Don’t go trying to—” Hilda’s eyes widened. “If that cowboy’s so smart, why’s he messing with my wash?”
“Now, Hilda, he’s trying to make things right.” Laney held Hilda back. A second later, her jaw dropped open. She couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside.
“A horse trough! They’re dunking my clean laundry in a stinkin’, filthy horse trough!” Hilda’s voice rose with every syllable.
“They’re good men, Hilda. And they are working hard.”
Hilda moaned. “Do you see that? That’s how they think to wring out the clothes?”
“Maybe we should go rescue them.”
“If you’re talking about the britches, you’re probably right. If you’re talking about the men, never. I aim to sit here and eat a piece of pie and watch the show. You know what they’re doing?”
Laney nodded. “Laundry.”
“Nope, honey. What they’re doing is showing us how much they love us. Ain’t often you get a chance to see something like this. Fill your eyes, Laney. And fill your heart. Eddie’s a fine man. If that’s not proof out there, I don’t know what is.”
“There we go!” Laney let go of the wheelbarrow’s handles. For the past two days, they’d made cherry pies, tarts, canned cherries, and fruit leathers. Everywhere about them, new life abounded. “Just look at this, and it’s only part of one day’s harvest!”
