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Authors: Cassandra King

Making Waves (23 page)

BOOK: Making Waves
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I tried hard to keep my word to Hamilton not to tell anybody about it, I honestly did. I didn't mean to tell Miss Opal, but she was the one who brought it up. Then I let it slip with Donnette when I was telling her what I found out from Miss Opal.

I kept it to myself for a whole day, because it was some time later before I saw Miss Opal. She stayed out at the country club all that next day playing bridge, and then she had some kind of dinner party out there that night.

The day after that, I finally had to go to her room after lunch and knock on her door, because she hadn't shown up all morning. At first I thought she was still asleep because she took so long coming to the door, and she looked extremely irritated until she saw that it was me.

“Oh, it's you, Ellis. I have a little headache today so I'm resting—I didn't hear you knocking at first.”

Her big hazel eyes, which are usually so lively and sparkling, looked bloodshot and tired. Miss Opal has a pretty face but she's let herself get way too fat. I swear I'll never do that, even if I get widowed like her. She just doesn't care anymore, I guess. She was still dressed in her robe, this time of the day!

“I'm so sorry to bother you, Miss Opal. I need to talk to you about something, but I'll come back when you're feeling better,” I told her, backing away.

“No, no. Come on in, sugar. I want you to feel free to talk to me any time at all. Just a minute, okay?” She closed her door and I felt stupid standing out there in the hall. Now what could she be doing, I wondered. No point in her straightening up her room for me, I've seen it in a mess before. In a few minutes she opened the door and ushered me in.

I loved Miss Opal's bedroom best of all—to me it was the prettiest room in the house. She had it fixed up in light and dark shades of pink, with lots of hot pink lace, and she had antique-looking furniture of gold and white. Classic, that's what it was. Right now, it was dark as a cave because she had the shades pulled.

She took me over to a pink satin loveseat and sat down. I'm going to get me one just like it when me and Hamilton get into Mr. Hiram's house.

“What is it, hon?” Miss Opal asked me as she patted the seat beside her, indicating for me to sit down. “You and Sonny haven't had a fight, have you?”

“Oh, no, ma'am. Nothing like that. Actually, I wanted to ask you something for a friend of mine.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed Miss Opal looked real suspiciously at me. “Somebody wanting to borrow money?”

“No, ma'am—I'd never ask you that!” I was a little hurt, but plunged on. “You know Donnette Sullivan, who was my matron of honor?”

“Sure. I've been knowing Donnette and her people for years,” Miss Opal said, relaxed now. I noticed up close that her makeup was smeared, like she'd been sleeping when I knocked. And her room smelled funny, too, like liquor or something. Maybe it was just her perfume, though looks like with all her money, she could buy the good-smelling kind.

“What's Donnette's problem?” Miss Opal asked me.

“Well, she's real worried, Miss Opal. You know all that about her husband Tim and Taylor Dupree? She's worried about Taylor being back in town now, after two years. I know he's your nephew, but—”

Miss Opal lit a cigarette and threw back her head as she inhaled deeply. “That little bastard's no nephew of mine. He belongs to the high and mighty Clarks.”

I was shocked to hear her talk that way about the Clarks. Maybe it was because she was feeling indisposed. She took a long drag on the cigarette and looked over at me. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Well, Donnette wants me to find out when Taylor's going back to college. The kids start back to school here this week, so we figure colleges must be starting up soon.”

Miss Opal shrugged. “For all I know, he'll be going back any day now.”

She didn't seem concerned about it as she added, “You can't carry on a decent conversation with him, he's so spacey. Probably on dope. And you sure can't get anything out of that old loon Della. Neither one of them got walking-around sense, if you ask me. Hell, Taylor may have flunked out of school, for all any of us know.”

“Well, I promised Donnette that I would ask around, see if I could find out anything about his plans,” I said.

“Donnette hasn't got shit for sense if she thinks Taylor is going to come around them again! Only reason he ever took up with Tim Sullivan to start with was because no one else would have anything to do with him. Nobody except that nympho preacher's daughter. God knows what ever happened to her.”

“I guess you're right,” I said, but without much conviction.

“I know I'm right. Tell Donnette to look at the facts—Taylor ain't had the guts to show his face around here for two years. He never even checked up on Tim, offered a penny—nothing. Oh, that fool Della tried to tell us he wasn't able, that he had a nervous breakdown and b.s. like that. Huh! He's just like Charlotte, too sorry to care about anybody but himself.”

I guess I still didn't look convinced because Miss Opal looked at me with a crooked smile, then reached over and patted my hand.

“Tell you what I'll do, though. Just to make you feel better. I'll get Frances Martha to talk to Della, one fruitcake to another. Find out what she can from her, and I'll let you know, okay?”

“Oh, I'd sure appreciate that.” I smiled at her. “You are the best thing to me in the world.” Impulsively I gave her a quick hug, though I must have caught her off guard because she pulled back from me. I stood up to go then.

“I guess I'd better go plan supper with Miss Frances Martha now, Miss Opal. Anything you can find out about Taylor, just let me know and I'll tell Donnette.”

I was halfway to the door, anxious now to be on my way, knowing that I had done what I could to help my best friend out. I'll be—just as I walked off, Miss Opal took another drag of that cigarette and said to me, just as casually as anything, “'Course I could have asked Taylor myself yesterday. He was actually being right friendly, for him.”

“Oh? You saw him yesterday?”

“Sure did. He was at the country club having lunch yesterday. Acting halfway decent, too. But that may have been because he was showing Sarah Williams around.”

I came back over to the loveseat slowly, not believing my ears. “Who, Miss Opal?”

“Maudie Ferguson's niece. You remember—I introduced you to her at the funeral home. She's kind of weird, teaches psychology or something like that at the University of Florida, I believe. Or Florida State.”

I sat back down on the loveseat beside her. “I remember her all right. Do you think she's attractive, Miss Opal?”

“Yeah, for a skinny woman. Personally I've found that most men like to look at a woman like that, but they like well-rounded women for—other things.” She stopped and eyed me shrewdly. “I noticed Sonny giving her the eye, if that's why you're asking.”

I pretended not to hear that. “What were she and Taylor doing at the country club, just having lunch?” I asked the question real casually. I can be cunning when I need to be.

“Yeah. And drinking. Country club's the only place in Zion County where you can get a drink. They said they were going swimming there, too, that they hadn't been able to find a good place to swim.”

“How do you reckon they got to know each other?” I asked, again pretending to be real casual.

“Oh, Sarah and Charlotte used to be big buddies. When Sarah was a kid, she came and spent summers here with her Aunt Maudie. So I expect she met Taylor at the funeral.”

Miss Opal yawned loudly. I could tell she was really not interested in this conversation. Well, she would be if she knew what I knew, that was for sure!

“Miss Opal,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell a living soul?”

I felt it was my duty to tell her what I'd seen at the river. It also made me feel good to have something to confide in her about, since she'd accepted me and been so good to me. At first Miss Opal couldn't believe me, I could tell. She kept asking me the same questions over and over, and asking me to describe seeing them at the river again and again.

“I just
cannot
believe it, Ellis!” she said to me. “The very idea—she's old enough to be that boy's mother! It's beyond me what a woman her age sees in such a young boy. Of course, if it were Sonny, I could understand it. But Taylor—the very idea of those two together is repulsive.”

I agreed with her completely. “I tell you, Miss Opal, I've never been so shocked in my life. Of course, Daddy has told me all my life what college professors are like—loose, every one of them.”

“Women who go after young boys like that ought to be horsewhipped,” Miss Opal declared vehemently to me. “Just hearing about this makes me sick to my stomach. But I want to make sure I heard it right—tell me again
exactly
what they did!”

Miss Opal kept her word and got Frances Martha to call Della Dean that night, but what she found out ended up not being good news for Donnette when I saw her the next day. Della had been praising the Lord over the phone, Miss Frances Martha said. Taylor planned on staying with her a few more days. His college didn't start until mid-September, so he had some time on his hands. I sure hated to be the one to tell Donnette that. I hated it even more when I got to her place and saw that she was already upset.

Tim was outside in the yard when I drove up, fixing the stand the sign was going to hang from. It was an old lamppost Miss Essie had put there which he was painting white. I thought the sign would look
so
nice there, and I told him so as I walked up the driveway to the shop. He blushed and smiled at me. Goodness, I never noticed before what a sexy smile he has. Donnette is sure one lucky girl. I was just about to ask him where Donnette was when she stuck her head out the shop door and motioned to me.

When I walked up to the shop, Donnette pulled me in quickly, then closed the door.

“Oh, Ellis. I just tried to call you to see if you could come over. I need to talk to somebody so bad.”

One look at her face and I could tell that she'd been crying. She had her hair in rollers and not a smidge of makeup on. With her reddened eyes, she looked awful.

“You look terrible, Donnette. What on earth are you so upset about?” I was really concerned about her.

Donnette looked out the window to make sure Tim couldn't hear, I guess, then she turned back to me.

“Oh, Ellis. Me and Tim had a big fuss. It was just awful. I wish to goodness I'd learn to keep my mouth shut.” Tears welled up in her eyes again.

“Come on, hon. Let's go sit down,” I said to her gently. I can be very supportive when I need to be. I even took a course in it at the Methodist Church last year.

“Let's sit over here by the dryers and you tell me all about it.” I felt like an old married lady listening to a younger one, for a change. It was a nice feeling.

“It's a lot of things. You see that Tim ain't at work today. Well, that's because—” Again, she started to cry. I reached in my purse for a Kleenex and handed one to her.

Donnette blew her nose and looked at me. “I reckon I'd better start at the beginning. You know Tim works at the lumber mill for Jack Floyd, Mr. Cleve's younger brother. Jack is
so
nice, Ellis. He has always thought the world of Tim, 'cause he was the star quarterback here during his day. This ain't his fault at all. But the lumber business is so bad that he had to cut Tim back to quarter time.”

I felt some relief. Not quite as bad as I'd feared. “Well, that's bad, Donnette. But at least he didn't get laid off altogether.”

“I know. But Tim thinks Jack needs to cut him completely out but just hates to. It makes Tim feel like a charity case, which you know he hates. It ain't the money so much, Ellis. I think we can manage with me having the shop. It's Tim.” She wiped her eyes and looked just like a little girl.

“I can understand Tim feeling like that, Donnette. But if business was so bad that Jack couldn't pay Tim, he'd have to let him go. Tim ought to realize that.” I felt proud of my logic.

“I think he knows that. He's just down.”

“Well, he ought not to take it out on you.”

Donnette looked puzzled, then smiled weakly. “Oh, that's not what we had a fuss about. I wish in a way that he would take it out on me. Anything but suffer in silence like he does.”

“If it's not about his work, then what is it?”

“The reason I was telling you about Jack was to tell you that he felt so bad about cutting Tim back that he took us out to the cafe in Mt. Zion to eat supper.”

“Me and Hamilton went there the other night. They have the best catfish I've ever put in my mouth,” I told her. I love to eat out. Usually we go to Tuscaloosa or Columbus, though, where they have nice restaurants like Shoney's.

“Ellis, you won't believe who we ran into there! You just won't believe it.”

“Not Dinky and Glenda!” I had gotten so involved in all this other mess lately that I'd clean forgotten them. Since Daddy Clark hadn't said anything about it either, I'd been able to put it out of my mind temporarily. And Mama hadn't sent Daddy to town for me lately.

BOOK: Making Waves
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