Earthly Vows (13 page)

“Fern, you and Jeb need to hear this, I got something I want to say,” said Abigail.

Fern’s brow tensed. She and Donna exchanged gazes.

“I’ve been worrying over this wedding. Since you-all told all our friends about it in Oklahoma City, the phone’s not stopped
ringing.” Abigail’s tone was less than enthusiastic. “Not to mention all the relations who haven’t been invited.” She kept
clasping her hands in front of her, bending her fingers until the veins on her hands stood out.

“What’s the deal, Mrs. Coulter?” asked Jeb.

“If you marry tomorrow, then half the state will be offended. No one can come on that short of a notice and everyone wants
to come. You know how it is, Fern. Most of those people are well-moneyed, and what with your situation, it’s in poor taste
to up and marry and not give anyone a chance at a wedding gift. You have two uncles who would want to be here, and that doesn’t
include golf club families and the Oklahoma City families.”

“I apologize, Abigail. I didn’t know it mattered,” said Jeb.

Fern let out a sigh.

“Fern, you know I don’t try to impose society on you, but marrying a minister means you’ll need a good start. If you at least
give me until December, I could pull this thing off, I know I could.”

“Fine, Mother. We can call it off,” said Fern.

“Not just like that, not like that, Fern?” Donna huffed. “Aren’t you going to stand up to her, give her a good round or two?”

“Donna, this isn’t your business,” said Abigail.

“Daddy would have told her to stand up to you,” said Donna.

Fern carried her suitcase around Abigail and into the house.

“You’re going to talk to her, right?” Donna asked Jeb. She shot out a stream of smoke.

Jeb picked up his suitcase and took it to Fern’s Packard. “If there’s no wedding tomorrow, there’s no need to unpack.”

“This is not right. I don’t understand either one of you,” said Donna. She glared at Abigail.

“What just happened?” asked Abigail. “I didn’t mean for it all to blow to pieces. She didn’t mean cancel the wedding, not
really, did she?”

Jeb walked past Abigail and touched her shoulder. “It’s not your doing, Abigail.”

“I don’t think she meant it like that,” said Donna. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Go and talk to her.”

Jeb found Fern sitting on the edge of her bed. Her back was to him. “I’m going to turn down the pastorate at First Community,”
he said.

She cried, so he gave her a handkerchief.

Jeb recounted the moments from the time he had met her, when he was a charlatan on the run from the law using three abandoned
kids as a front, until the time that Gracie helped him carve out a life of legitimacy. “I’ve been trying to save the world
for too long, Fern. It’s time I focused on us.”

“I don’t want you to throw it away. I saw you Sunday. You were brilliant.” She hadn’t told him that until now.

“You make me brilliant. I know I’m not. I can tell you don’t want to move back here. You’ve made a life in Nazareth. We have.”
He looked toward the closed door and then back at Fern. “I’m going to help Claudia get that job in Oklahoma City. She can
take Angel with her now to help out. As soon as they’re on their feet, I’ll send Willie and Ida May to join them. Angel is
almost grown. She has wanted nothing but to live with her family. I’ve wanted nothing but to live with you. We’re going to
spend the time between now and December doing a better job of getting to know one another. Then we’ll give Abigail that big
church wedding she’s been wanting.” He got down on one knee. “I’d like to ask you again. Will you?”

Angel had heard the commotion, Ida May caterwauling about Jeb and Fern driving up. Donna said they went upstairs. She walked
up to the door to hear Fern accepting Jeb’s decisions without argument. That wasn’t like her. Jeb seemed to be promising to
send the Welbys away with Claudia. She had not imagined Fern would agree. As a matter of fact, she expected to sit down as
soon as they returned tonight and laugh with Fern about Claudia’s stupid proposal. But all she could hear Fern doing was laughing.
She wanted her to stop. Fern had always been a strong woman. She was the reason Angel decided to teach. This was not happening.
Fern was not allowing her to slip away without a fight.
Say something, Fern! Make things right, like you always do.

A
NGEL LOADED HER SISTER’S BELONGINGS
into the Coulter car. Jeb was passing her coming and going from the house to the car. She was quiet and keeping to the task
of getting her things and Claudia’s belongings loaded for the bus trip. Her hair was combed back plain, the auburn so nearly
red in the bright sun she looked like another person entirely. She put on an older dark green dress and flat-heeled shoes
for traveling. Her face was tight and her mouth drawn up small. She did not apply any of the cosmetics she had taken to wearing
since June.

Jeb understood Claudia’s happiness over the job offer to mean relief for Angel. She had wanted nothing but to be reunited
with Claudia since Jeb first met her. Angel was going to be a free agent once and for all. Jeb figured that because she always
fought him for his control over her, she’d be glad to be shed of him. She had to appreciate what he was doing not only for
Claudia but for her, Willie, and Ida May. Most of the kids put out on the streets had it far worse. She knew that.

She padded across the grass, holding two books, and still would not look at him.

Ida May hugged the porch pillar. She erupted into convulsive sobs. It seemed she had stopped believing her sister was not
going to leave her for good. Everyone, including Abigail and Fern, told her that Angel had to follow Claudia early on to help
her get back on her feet. After Claudia could pay rent and keep up the grocery tab, then Ida May and Willie would join them
in Norman. It had been said to death. Still, Ida May tailed Angel out of the house, lamenting like a kid thrown out on the
street.

Fern carried a few more of Angel’s things out, following her close behind. Jeb and Fern agreed they would drop Angel and her
sister and kids off at the bus stop and then return for Willie and Ida May. Fern said good-bye to Donna Faye, but not Abigail.
Abigail always cried, she said, not in a way to make her feel good, but to feel guilty. She would hold off on telling her
mother good-bye until she was climbing into the Packard. That would be the end of it.

Fern kept asking Angel about Claudia’s small bag of belongings.

“It’s all—all she has,” said Angel. She sounded out of breath, sidetracked of course by the packing and trying to always keep
an eye out for Claudia’s two. Thorne and John were delirious. Aunt Angel was their new savior.

Fern folded up a few bills and told Angel, “Be sure Claudia buys food as soon as you land in Norman.”

Jeb took all the folding money he brought for the trip, save what they needed to get home, and gave it to Claudia after breakfast.

Claudia came onto the porch holding Thorne on her left hip. She gripped John by the forearm. He was fidgeting and tugging
at his mother, pulling one way and then another until she finally let go of him. Freedom at last! He bolted for the open yard
going after the ball left behind by Darrell. He kicked at it, but his short legs drove it only a foot or two.

“I guess we’d better head out,” Angel said to Claudia. “Bus’ll be leaving in an hour.”

Abigail looked out through the screen door. Her shoulders lifted, a sigh rushing out. She kept saying, “I hadn’t counted on
Fern leaving so soon,” muttering how Tuesday should have meant that they would stay Tuesday night. The heat was all else she
could talk about. She pushed the door open with her toe. “Here’s a bite to eat, both of you. Angel, Claudia, take this food
along and give those kids a good meal on that bus ride.” The bag was oversized, a big woven hemp bag that Myrna used for her
shopping. Myrna put in some peanuts, Abigail said, a half loaf of bread, already sliced, a small jar of jelly, two apples.
Abigail listed every item out loud, explaining how the fried chicken was wrapped tightly in cheesecloth, plus a handful of
coins thrown in for milk if they could buy it along the way.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Angel. She kissed Abigail’s cheek and accepted the oversized lunch. She lugged it to the
trunk and tucked it next to her suitcase. Fern walked beside her as they crossed the yard, Fern doing most of the talking.

Angel whistled, came down on one knee, held out her arms, and took charge of John. Claudia looked mystified by her control
over the boy. John took to her like she was his momma. Angel smiled, her eyes drinking him in, though heavy-lidded. The boy
clambered up her like she was the best tree on the street. He wrapped his legs around her, slightly leaning back and head
bowed, talking quietly about the ball he claimed for his own.

Claudia said, “Reverend, I never thought I’d see them all again and looking so good. You’ve done good by them and now by me.
I’ll pay you back.”

Her offer made Jeb ill at ease. Angel looked at him long enough that he could finally, by a nod of his head, direct her away
from Claudia and her brood. Angel met him beside the front porch and freed John to streak back across the yard.

“Don’t let things go too long,” said Jeb. He placed his hands on either side of her face. “What I mean is, Claudia may not
notice things as fast as you. Fern is going to give you her telephone number. If you need help, you call.” Jeb kept holding
her face so that she had to look at him and not cast her eyes away.

“This seems like a dream, doesn’t it?” she asked.

He didn’t know how to answer.

“Jeb, I know I’ve carried on about finding my sister. It’s not what I expected,” said Angel. “Do you ever get what you expect?”

Jeb turned his back to the others so no one else would hear. All she had to say was that she did not want to go. “You’ve never
been one to hold back. Tell me what you want, Angel.”

Angel looked at Fern and then at her sister. She never was a girl to let go of tears so easily, and this moment would be no
different. She finally said, “For everyone to find their own life.” Her eyes drifted to the ground. “You have to find it with
someone, though. You with Fern. Me, Willie, and Ida May with Claudia.” When she looked up again, she was pleading. “Tell me
I’m right. It’s important.”

He pulled out another bill from the dwindling roll and gave it to her.

“You need that to get home,” she said.

“I’ll make it home.”

Angel wrapped her arms around Jeb and buried her face against him. She shook for a minute, and then a tear soaked into his
shirt. Jeb kept patting the small of her back. Finally she let go of him. He gave her a handkerchief from his pocket to clean
her eyes. She looked grown-up after that.

The August heat sent everyone into the bus depot’s shaded areas, the awnings with their blue paint and signs advertising haircuts
and liniment, the sprawling sweet gum leaves flapping like a girl’s hands turned up and responding to laughter. Jeb and the
women waited at the depot long enough for the line down the walk to expand from the waiting benches to the ticket terminal
and then they moved gratefully into the shade. Fern struck up a talk about Angel’s schooling. Jeb had not bothered to ask
Angel about her studies. She was in charge of all of that back in Nazareth, so he figured Claudia and Angel had worked out
the particulars.