Homefires (73 page)

Moose’s old textile cronies kept him captive while Callie and Roger remained absorbed in each other, now touching even when not dancing together. Not sexual, just gentle gestures, a touch and light caress on the arm that ended in laced fingers or a finger brushing a stray hair into place.

At one a.m., the band shut down. Classmates’ goodnights were reluctant and warm and nightcapped with “let’s stay in touch.” A few tears punctuated parting affections, as well as loud guffaws and raucous teasing. All served to bond us together and to this night of unforgettable memories.

By the time we got to Callie’s house for one last cup of coffee together, dawn was blowing away the last of the stars from the sky. Moose had grown quiet. It was not, I suspected, that he was sleepy. Though he should have been after the long, celebratory, emotion-charged night. He seemed keyed up. Kirk, sitting next to me on the sofa, had gotten his second wind, and now watched our resurrected friend as we all lounged barefoot in Cal’s den. Callie and Rog lolled cozily on the love seat. Longing – to have Kirk that blindly in love with me again – dropped heavily on me.

Suddenly, Moose pushed up to the edge of the easy chair he dwarfed, planted his elbows on thighs and clasped his hands between knees. “I learned about Roxie gettin’ killed from my stepma. I kept in touch with Pearly ‘cause I knew she wouldn’t let nobody know where I was. Them drug people was a’ter me like crazy.” He shook his head and his eyes moistned. “I didn’t think they’d go a’ter Roxie.” He swallowed a couple of times and twisted his hands together. “When I found out – I went crazy for a while. Blamed myself, y’know?”

“She made peace with God before it happened, Moose,” I said, hoping to console him.

He blinked a couple of times, swiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand and nodded. Then his eyes half-mooned, and I knew he’d put it behind him.

He began to speak like the old Moose. “I went to Solomon last week – before I come here for the reunion. I didn’t know ya’ll had moved back up this way, Kirk.” His eyes glimmered
like he knew some secret joke. “Anyways, guess who I run into at the church when I visited the pastor’s office there?”

“Who?” Cal asked, curious as blazes, coming to the edge of her seat.

“Ol’ Sarah Beauregard.” Moose yuk-yukked. “Know what she said, right there in the vestibule? Said ‘guess you know what that no-good preacher done after you left, don’t you?’ I says, ‘Naw, can’t say as I do.’” He yuk-yukked like crazy, slapping his knee, not noticing Cal’s stricken look nor how Kirk had tensed up and now gripped my hand in a bone-crushing strangle-hold.

When Moose got his breath, he gasped, “That crazy woman says, ‘he shore stabbed you in the back, man. Fooled around with Roxie is what he done. That’s why he hightailed it outta Solomon, doncha know?’ I told her, ‘You’re crazy, woman.’” He laughed until tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

“
Ouch
, Kirk,” I muttered through my teeth, “that
hurts
.” He abruptly released my white fingers and I flexed them to regain circulation.

Suddenly, Moose noted the silence. His face slackened and for the first time, I noticed his eyes were a hazel color. “Ya’ll don’t find that funny?” he asked, bewildered. “Couldn’t wait to tell that on the crazy ol’ – ” He fell silent. His gaze narrowed on Kirk, whose features were shuttered. “It
is
just talk, ain’t it Kirk?” he croaked, rising unsteadily to his feet.

When Kirk remained silent, Moose’s gaze swung to Cal. “Ain’t it, Cal? Just
talk
is all, ain’t it
?”

Cal flinched. She licked her lips and opened them to speak. Then shut them.

Kirk rose and went to him, put his hands on Moose’s shoulders. “Moose, we’ve been friends for a long time. You know how I feel about you.”

Moose stood there, looking as though he’d been shot with a stun gun. “Is it true?” Moose peered at Kirk and I heard in his voice the plea
tell me it isn’t so.

Kirk’s level gaze held such pain I felt my breath hitch. “Yes.” My husband’s hands dropped limply from Moose’s heavy upper arms.

“Oh,
God,”
Moose wailed and his head fell back as he sloughed heavily in a circle, clutching his temples. I heard Cal’s weeping as I snuffled back myriad emotions, the foremost being
grief that the ugliness was resurrected. “I ain’t got
nothin’
left,” Moose moaned and stopped, his mighty limbs and head dangling as loose as Spanish moss in the wind. “Nothing.”

“Oh, Moose,” I rushed to throw my arms around him. “Please don’t say that. You still have us.” Moose stood like an uprooted dead oak, waiting to topple.

My heart pounded like Dezi Arnaz’s bongos.

Moose pulled loose of me then took hold of Kirk’s shirt and pulled him up till their noses nearly touched. “You encouraged me to disappear, Kirk. Said I could be killed by the drug people. We felt that with me gone, Roxie’d be safer. Remember?” He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking Kirk, who stood like a Raggedy Andy, loose and expressionless. But I saw the pain in his eyes.

Moose released Kirk so violently, Kirk nearly stumbled. Moose’s great body heaved with sobs. “Did you just do it to get me outta the picture?”

Kirk sprang to life, touching Moose’s quavering shoulder. “God,
no!
I knew those people would kill you, that’s the reason I encouraged you to leave. I truly didn’t think Roxie – ”

“
Why
?” Moose wailed. “My best friend. ...” His body commenced trembling again and his teeth chattering.

“Take it easy, pal,” Kirk put out a steadying hand.

“Naw. Not
pal.
” Moose’s head swiveled so forcefully and he glared at Kirk so fiercely that a sob caught in my throat. “Not anymore, Kirk.”

Moose turned and like a zombie, sloughed his way from the room. From our hearts.

Kirk had lost his best friend. Again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“It’s about time to begin.” I straightened Kirk’s black tie and picked a blonde hair, mine, from his black clerical robe. The church vestibule swarmed with wedding party members, costumed in lavender dresses and black tuxes, whispering frantic last minute reminders. Gene, its pastor, had only moments earlier made his mad, robe-flapping dash outside to the sanctuary’s back entrance, where he joined the groom and his attendant.

I turned to kiss Heather’s cheek before lowering her veil. She was a fairy-tale princess in her white gown and luminous smile. We embraced for a long, intense moment, our eyes misty when we locked gazes, knowing things would be forever changed but knowing, too, that the changes would be good and right.

My brother Cole, tall and handsome in formal attire, tucked my hand in the crook of his arm, escorted me to the front pew and seated me as gently as if I were made of eggshells. I sat alone, eyes ahead, preparing myself to lose my daughter to this man who had, after five years of cohabitation, finally proposed. Kirk, after his initial burst of outrage over their “living in sin,” relented, and though not condoning their actions, had treated Heather and her companion with respect.

It turned out that Sam Chase was not technically a divorced man. When his ex-wife Sharon died of breast cancer three years after their divorce, he’d become a widower of a sort. Least that’s how I viewed it. I tried not to think about his playboy reputation and the two live-ins before Heather. Kirk had stretched himself to accept Sam, a handsome, brash man who’d rarely darkened a church door in his entire thirty-two years.

I had a moment’s unease that soon, Kirk and I would break our tradition of solidarity.

Heather needed us now more than ever. I consoled myself that Kirk and I would remain friends and that we could still “be there” for the children.

Today, against his better judgement, Kirk would fulfill Heather’s wish that “Daddy marry us.” Gene, Trish’s husband, would assist – just until Kirk walked Heather down the aisle and gave her away. Kirk would then mount the pulpit and officiate the vows.

The wedding procession filed past me to the strains of Pachebel’s
Canon in D
. Two-year-old Caroline, my brother Dale’s daughter, tossed rose pedals along as she, blue eyes donutted in adject terror, spanned the crimson aisle in record time and stumbled onto the platform, spilling her baskets contents. Finding her X to stand on, she plopped thumb in mouth and sucked desperately as she watched the advent of ringbearer brother Billy, five. My Dawn, now fifteen, floated by, a chimera of pastel and flowing golden hair, to her place of honor at her sister’s side. Following her was my little sis Lynette, the matron of honor, now married and sucking in her breath to conceal her fourth-month pregnancy. Soon as she lit in her spot, Caroline threw herself at Lynette, hugging and plastering herself to her thighs, pulling the long dress tightly over her aunt’s rounding abdomen. I shall never forget my sis’s stricken countenance for the duration of the rites.

A trumpet and piano rendition of the
Wedding March
brought me to my feet and I turned to watch Kirk walk our Heather down the aisle. A lump as big as Bald Mountain filled my chest. How beautiful. No longer my little girl. A woman.... A tear splashed over and I felt it trickle slowly down my cheek. I gently blotted with tissue and I felt Daddy’s hand, from the row behind me, reach to pat my shoulder. I gazed at him through a mist and saw that his eyes, too, shimmered. And I knew in that moment what he’d felt when I married Kirk. I reached to squeeze his hand gently and watched Heather join the man she’d given her heart to.

Sam Chase was not an easy man to know. With us, he’d been polite yet distant, discouraging closeness. That he did not always treat Heather with respect did not set too well with me, but I’d held my peace and prayed for the best. Perhaps, I thought with a hopeful heart, today marked the beginning of a real foundation for them.

Toby, now a ministerial student at Asbury Seminary, sang
Only God Could Love You More
, in his smooth tenor that always moved me.

“Dearly Beloved,” Kirk’s rich voice soothed and buoyed me, “We are gathered here in the sight of these witnesses to join this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony.”

Heather gazed at Sam. My breath hitched at the pure adoration shining there.

I decided in that heartbeat that if she loved him, I, too, would love him.

I recalled when Daddy had faced that decision. I had to smile, thinking how Dad was now positive that Kirk could hang the moon and the stars. I was thankful I had protected that frangible trust. I pushed away a surge of apprehension that things would soon change.

“I, Heather, take thee, Sam, to be my wedded husband – ”

My breath caught at the emotion vibrating in her sweet voice. I closed my eyes.
Please, Sam – take her heart and shield it from hurt and harm. Nurture her and love her, as she deserves
. Oh, God, I prayed,
I give them into your care.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

“Now can I go pee?” Caroline shrieked at her Dad, one of the groomsmen on the platform. She did a little dance, hands fastened on crotch, knees locked. Grinning sheepishly, Cole rolled his eyes and passed her down to her mom Beth, a bridesmaid, who quickly exited the scene.

Cal’s peals of laughter, from the vestibule door where she served with the registry, were as lusty as Mae West’s.

Lips twitching, Kirk said, “You may kiss the bride.” Sam’s kiss was, characteristically, dramatic, as though for an audience rather than for Heather. I pushed the thought away, reminding myself of my new vow.

Trish catered the reception. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, hugging her. “You outdid yourself.”

“Well,” Trish brushed back a stray tendril of hair above her flushed face, “Anne helped a lot. So did Joanie and Beth.”

“Sure it wasn’t too much?”

Trish dimpled. “You
did
buy most of the supplies, Sis. The labor, well – all that was my
gjft
to the newlyweds.”

“The most generous of them all,” I whispered, kissing her cheek. “My, how I love you, sister dear.”

Trish snuffled loudly, then mugged a ferocious frown. “Are we maudlin’ or what?”

We mimed a “macho” slapping of shoulders and pants hiking before breaking into giggles and finally settling down to people watch.

“Hey!” Chuck moseyed up to us. “Did I do okay with the music tapes or
what?
” My brother gave me a high-five, grinning from ear to ear. His transplant had been tremendously successful and his tech computer degree made him the most sought after technician in the whole Whitman clan.

“You look great,” I said and reached up to kiss his cheek before he dashed off to visit with relatives and to stuff his face at the refreshment tables.

“Joanie looks so pretty in her lavender bridesmaid dress. You’d never know she gave birth two months ago,” I murmured, spotting her latched onto Dale’s arm.
Dale, Krissie’s soul mate
. My heart did a little dip and I took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled.