A Peach of a Pair Page 20

  With the exception of sympathy for the young boy who’d died, Miss Lurleen seemed completely unaffected by the news when the desk clerk said the reverend had been jailed. I suppose she’d expected as much. But Miss Emily had believed with her whole heart, or had hoped with all her heart, because hope was all she had left. And now she didn’t even have that.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked as the bellman deposited the sisters’ bags on the luggage stands. Miss Emily didn’t answer, just sat down on the bed, still in total disbelief.

  “No, dear. It’s been a very long trip. Get some rest. We’ll see you around eight?” Miss Lurleen asked.

  “Yes. Of course.” I closed the door and entered my room. It would be after four back home, too early to call Remmy. He’d still be working, and Miss Lurleen was right; we could all use a good rest.

  I slept hard but not for long. When I woke up around six thirty, I was groggy and even more tired than when I’d closed my eyes. I thought about rolling over until it was time for dinner, but it was more likely that I’d sleep straight through to morning. I got up, drew a bath, and soaked the traveling dust off. I’d piled my hair on top of my head before I got into the tub and left it like that. I slipped into a white pair of pedal pushers and a blue top. Miss Emily would probably frown on my casual dinner attire, but we’d come over a thousand miles, by bus no less, and from here on out, I was dead set on being comfortable.

  I took the stairs down to the lobby and asked for the nearest phone booth. The attendant pointed to the bar. The Happy Hour crowd was in full swing, but when I closed the door on the booth, it shut out most of the noise.

  When Remmy picked up on the first ring, I felt every muscle of my earsplitting grin as he accepted the charges. “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey, Nettie. Y’all still in one piece?”

  “We’re staying at the Redlands Hotel; it’s very nice here in Palestine, which I learned very quickly is pronounced Palisteen. They get really touchy here if you use the biblical pronunciation.”

  “Well, if they want folks to say it that way, they ought to spell it different,” he said. No laughing, no lazy drawl.

  Talking to Remmy at the end of the day had become my reward for looking after the sisters. No matter how fearful or tired or exasperated I was, hearing his voice made me feel better. Gave me hope that I could change because even now the idea of returning to Camden, returning to him, was terrifying. But with Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana between us, I could relax, enjoy the easy conversation, how safe he made me feel.

  But there was a tightness in his voice; the way he said my name said something was wrong. “Remmy, are you okay?”

  “Mr. Buck died today.”

  “Oh, Remmy, I’m so sorry.”

  “Stubborn old coot had pneumonia and was complaining his chest hurt; wouldn’t let me admit him to the hospital when I checked on him last night. I went by his house this morning and found him on the floor. Pretty sure it was a heart attack.”

  “Remmy, it’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault. I should have called his son Cletus, who acts like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the old man. They fought all the time, but at least Cletus would have made Buck go to the hospital. Shoot, I all but forced him in my car to take him myself, but he still wouldn’t budge. After that, I came back to the office, hoping you’d call.”

  “Oh, God, Remmy, I’m—”

  “Stop right there. I’m not blaming you, Nettie. I just wanted to tell you what happened.” He hadn’t mentioned a thing about Mr. Buck last night. I suspected that Remmy was accustomed to everyone relying on him, and it wasn’t easy for him to rely on someone else. Another thing we had in common. “I canceled my patients the rest of the day and sat by this phone, waiting for you to call because I needed to hear your voice.”

  I felt every mile, every inch between us. I wanted to be with him, comfort him, help him the way he’d helped me. “If Buck didn’t want to go to the hospital, Remmy, you couldn’t have made him.”

  “You’re right.” His voice was so thick with regret, it was breaking my heart. “Folks come to me and expect me to fix them. Makes me feel a little bit like God until God reminds me I can’t fix anyone, especially someone I really care about. Then I feel like shit.”

  “But you do help people, Remmy.” It was one of the things I loved most about him. “You helped me.”

  “Not sure that counts, Nettie. You’re not nearly as broken as you think you are.”

  25

  EMILY

  Did you see the train station?” Lurleen smeared orange marmalade over her toast, took a bite, and closed her eyes for the sugar rush.

  Emily had seen the station on their walk about the city yesterday. It was surprisingly large for a town the size of Palestine, and if she hadn’t seen it, she would be more than aware of its presence with trains coming and going at all hours. “Yes, Sister,” Emily said. “Would you like to take the train back instead of the bus?”

  “I believe I would. We could get a sleeper car, break up the trip into two days instead of three.”

  “But the train doesn’t go all the way to Camden,” Emily said.

  “True enough,” Lurleen said. “We could always call Pastor Gray to fetch us from Columbia or I’m sure a certain young doctor would be more than happy to pick us up and take us home to Camden.”

  With the exception of her class trip to Folly Beach, neither Emily nor Lurleen had ever been more than a hundred miles or so from Camden. Lurleen had always talked about traveling, perusing books at the library about faraway places and daydreaming about visiting. Emily had wanted to too, but never did. There was always the notion that someday, Teddy would come home, and she wanted to be there to welcome him. Throw her arms around him and never let go.

  The only reason she’d suggested this trip was for Lurleen. Even then it was hard to leave, because an inkling of hope that Brother was alive and well would always live as long as Emily did. The back door would remain unlocked. She’d even left his favorite banana pudding in the refrigerator, just in case. Although, she suspected when she got home, it would be brown and ruined and untouched.

  “I can ask Remmy when I call him tonight,” Nettie said.

  “In my day, a woman didn’t telephone a man. It was indecent,” Emily said.

  “And why didn’t we?” Miss Lurleen asked. “What difference does it make who calls whom?”

  “It’s simply a rule, the very definition of decency,” Emily snapped before turning her attention to Nettie. “There is a fine art to courtship and flirtation, Nettie, and—”

  “And if Emily actually knew what that art was, she might well be married instead of being an old maid like me.” Lurleen winked at Nettie.

  “Bite your tongue, Sister,” Emily snapped. “We are not old maids.”

  “I think we are the very definition,” Lurleen said.

  • • •

  It was good to see Lurleen rested, laughing, poking fun, even if it was at Emily’s expense. After a day and a half of lazing around Palestine, Emily was still exhausted and disappointed, although Lurleen’s nonchalance over this pointless trip served to quell the latter.

  It was good to get out and see the town that ended up being the prize at the end of their journey. It was a charming place with a lot of things a young person like Nettie would have probably enjoyed if she wasn’t saddled with Emily and Lurleen. On her walk about town, Emily noticed a horde of cute boys hanging out at Heck’s Drive In. If Nettie had any sense, she’d catch the eye of the most handsome one and get him to take her to dinner or maybe to see Monkey Business playing at the Texas Theatre near the bus station.

  As long as she lived, if Emily never saw a bus again, it would be too soon, although she’d never tell Sister that. But if she absolutely had to, she would grit her teeth and ride that Greyhound all the way back to Camd
en. The only difference, this time, she would forgo the motel experience, because she’d had quite enough of those as well.

  Emily was more than happy to give Nettie her and Lurleen’s bus tickets to trade in along with enough cash to pay the difference for the train fare. Nettie returned with the tickets and a train schedule, and they planned their route home over dinner.

  “The beaches of Biloxi. Sounds exotic, doesn’t it? Have you ever been there, Nettie?” Lurleen asked.

  “No ma’am. Sometimes my family would go to the beach in Mobile. It’s about a half hour from Satsuma; we just went for the day.”

  “Oh, and let’s remember to find the bookstore the gentleman at the front desk told us about,” Lurleen said. “I believe it was Swift & Holmes. I want to get a book for the trip.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Nettie said. “Would you like for me to pick one out for you?”

  “We’ll both go; I’d love to see the inside of a bookstore once more before I—” Lurleen looked at Emily and glossed over her certain death with a smile. “Of course you’re welcome to come too, Sister.”

  Oh, let them have their fun; Emily didn’t want or need the invitation to their little club. Looking over the brochure-like map, her finger landed squarely on Alabama. “Mobile sounds especially lovely, compared to Biloxi. Perhaps we should go there instead,” she said, trying to get a rise out of Nettie. Usually Emily’s verbal jabs felt wicked and good, but the words only left her feeling a bit guilty.

  Anyone with eyes was well aware of the girl’s aversion to Alabama. Nettie had been nothing but nice to Emily, fulfilling her promise to be both nurse and caretaker. And friend. As hard as Emily had been, Nettie had never returned her unkindness. Not once.

  “You’re right, Sister,” Emily said. “Biloxi does sound exotic. I’m sure the ocean is especially beautiful there. We can stay at a hotel on the beach and have our toes in the sand by suppertime tomorrow.”

  NETTIE

  I scurried around, pulling myself together along with my things, wishing I had packed the night before. I hadn’t fallen asleep until almost morning. Maybe it was the naps I’d taken to catch up on my rest from what had seemed like a never-ending bus ride. Or maybe it was Remmy’s words that he needed me rolling around in my head. I’d never had that with Brooks. We just were. Always together because that’s the way it was. We were a handsome couple who were bound together for so long, our friends expected us to be that way forever. I had accepted the natural progression and never questioned it. Not once.

  Did that mean I never loved Brooks? Did that mean I’d never been in love before? Of course I’d been in love or what he’d done wouldn’t have hurt so bad. But it wasn’t the wound that he’d caused that kept me from healing; it was Sissy’s part that stung hard. Throbbed, competing with the love I had for her.

  The shrill ring of the bedside phone startled me, but I should have grown accustomed to it. After Miss Emily figured out she could order me around by the house phone as easily as in person, she’d used it often over the course of our trip.

  “Good morning,” I said, steeling myself for one of her jabs.

  “Hey.”

  “Remmy?”

  “Did I get you at a bad time?”

  “I’m getting ready to catch the train back to South Carolina. How did you know to call here?”

  “You said you were staying at the Redlands, and there’s only one of those in Palestine. Only one Nettie Gilbert for sure.”

  “They’d almost hang you if they heard you saying it that way. The looks we get when one of us lets it slip. I think Miss Emily does it on purpose just so she can glare right back.” When he laughed my heart fluttered, the same sensation traveling down to my belly. “Feel better today?”

  “So now you’re playing doctor,” he laughed. “Why, yes, Doctor Gilbert; I do feel better just hearing your voice. But I still miss you; still want you home.”

  “You say that like you belong in Camden now,” I teased.

  “Long as you’re here, it sure feels that way,” he said. “I turned down the job in Columbia.”

  “Remmy. You said that job was everything you ever wanted.”

  “I thought so, but when I thought about leaving patients like Miss Lurleen in someone else’s hands, I just couldn’t do it.”

  “As long as you’re happy with your decision.”

  “I am and I’m happy with you. When are you coming back?”

  “Unless the sisters extend their beach trip in Biloxi, we should be back in Columbia Sunday evening. I’m supposed to ask if you’d mind picking us up.”

  “You’re asking an awful lot, Nettie.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “It’ll be impossible not to kiss you hello in front of the sisters. I’m not making any promises about being decent in their eyes, but you can bet I’ll be there.”

  “Miss Lurleen’s disappointed we’ll be coming in in the evening. She wanted to ride in your car with the top down.”

  “Convertible works just as well at night as it does during the day.” He laughed. “I’m looking forward to showing you, alone.”

  “I’d like that.”

  There was a long silence and he blew out a breath. “That’s good to know, Nettie Gilbert. Does that mean you’re done running?”

  I’d only known Remmy a few weeks, and already he knew me better than anyone ever did, and sometimes better than I knew myself. He’d pegged me as a runner from the beginning. The question was, did I want to run back to him? No, I was done running. I would get on that train, glide through Alabama without her raising the first hackle. And when I saw Remmy, I would dash purposefully into his open arms.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Then come home to me.”

  • • •

  The cabbie picked us up at the hotel and deposited us at the train station. The sisters were as giddy as schoolgirls, excited about traveling in the comfort of the train with our own roomette. The tall, lanky porter showed us to our berth, pointing out the luxuries along the way. The sisters settled in and gabbed nonstop after we pulled out of the station.

  I watched the scenery go by. Squatty Texas trees changing to slightly taller, scant-looking, bald cypresses as the train crossed into Louisiana. The train stopped in New Orleans, and a horde of people filed onto the platform.

  Aunt Madge, Uncle Doak’s wife, was from New Orleans and had always talked about how much better it was than Satsuma, better than the entire state of Alabama, she claimed. Nobody much liked her thinly veiled complaints, but then no one uttered a word in defense, including me, for fear that she’d get angry and stop making the Creole jambalaya from her mother’s side of the family and handmade boudin sausages and other Cajun dishes from her daddy’s side that made every last one of us beg for more.

  From the rail yard, New Orleans didn’t look any different from any other town we’d passed through, but the best thing about the Big Easy was we would be in Biloxi in a couple of hours. Train travel suited all of us. It was my first time, and I liked having room to ourselves as well as a dining car with excellent meals. Miss Emily looked completely rested, so much better than she did back in Palestine, and Miss Lurleen wasn’t as short of breath as she’d been since we’d begun our trip.

  Wouldn’t Remmy be surprised if the trip that was supposed to kill her had actually made her better? But then he’d made very sure I knew that wasn’t possible.

  Miss Emily gasped and threw her hand over her chest. “Oh, my, Sister! We don’t have proper bathing attire.”

  “If you think I’m getting in some kind of beach getup at my age, Sister, you’ve got another thing coming,” Miss Lurleen snorted. “The very idea.” Her laughter turned into a cackle, and Miss Emily and I joined in loud and hearty enough to be heard in the dining car three cars over.

  “I’m having the best time,” Miss Emily said when she cam
e down from her laughing fit. “I feel like we’re throwing ourselves a party.”

  “And why the hell not?” Miss Lurleen said, setting them off again.

  26

  EMILY

  Emily kept a close watch on Lurleen and kept her entertained; she didn’t want to nod off and miss sister’s seeing the ocean for the first time. Of course they’d seen plenty of water along the way, the mighty Mississippi, Lake Pontchartrain, but she knew nothing would compare with the endless expanse of the Gulf of Mexico. Except maybe the Atlantic. Yes, if Emily could give Lurleen anything, it would be the Atlantic Ocean tied up in a colorful bow. But after this trip, dragging Lurleen east of Camden just to see the ocean would be pressing her luck, and now, Emily only wanted for Sister what she wanted for herself. To die at peace surrounded by her precious things at home.

  Yes, the gulf would have to do. And when the train reached the tip of Mississippi and it came into view, it did not disappoint. She shimmered in all her magnificence like a Mississippi belle who couldn’t decide whether to wear her most beautiful blue gown or her very stunning green one, so she’d worn both. As the scant few clouds moved over the expanse, pockets of water took on a striking cobalt color, some a gunmetal gray. And the sand was like someone had spilled millions of bags of sugar, and looked so different from the grayish-colored sand on beaches back home in South Carolina.

  “Holy Lord,” Sister whispered, grabbing Emily’s hand. Lurleen absolutely glowed with wonder and Emily couldn’t wait for Sister to feel the water swirling around her ankles, the sugar-white sand between her toes.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Emily gave Sister’s hand a squeeze as the gulf showed off like the prettiest girl at the dance. Glittering. Beautiful.