Julia 03 - Miss Julia Throws a Wedding (17 page)

I opened the office door and walked inside, Lillian right behind me. Binkie was sitting behind her huge paper-strewn desk, although she didn’t strike me as having been working very hard.

“Have a seat, Miss Julia. You, too, Lillian. I know why you’re here.” Binkie leaned back in her executive chair and blew out her breath, like our visit was just something she had to put up with.

“Binkie,” I began, propping my pocketbook on my lap and resting my hands on it. “If you know why we’re here, I wish you’d let me in on it. Coleman said the wedding’s off, and I just can’t accept that.”

“You’ll have to, Miss Julia,” she said in a small voice, as she looked out a window. Or would have, if the blinds hadn’t been
closed. “I’m sorry you’ve gone to so much trouble for us, but I’ll reimburse you for what you’ve spent.”

It just flew all over me that she thought my only concern was the cost and inconvenience to me. “Binkie,” I said, “forget about that. I don’t want any reimbursement. What I want is a reason for this sudden change of heart when you and Coleman have been getting along like a house afire right up to this very last minute.”

She bowed her head and fiddled with some papers. “It just wouldn’t work, Miss Julia. I realize that now, and so does Coleman. We both know it.”

“Coleman doesn’t know anything but the fact that his heart is breaking in two. You should’ve seen him when he walked in a little while ago. Looked like death warmed over when he told us the wedding’s off.”

She stirred some papers on her desk, her eyes lowered. “What else did he say?”

“Not another word, no explanation or anything. He wouldn’t even talk to Sam, and you know yourself that Sam’s as easy to talk to as anybody. Binkie, you make your living talking, so talk to me. What happened? Did Coleman do something or say something that he could undo or unsay? Is it just second thoughts on your part? You ought to know that every bride has a few, but it usually doesn’t stop them from going right on down the aisle.” I stopped, thinking to myself that maybe even a few second thoughts should’ve stopped them.

“Miss Julia.” Binkie sighed and rested her arms on the desk. “It’s like this. Coleman and I are on opposite sides of the law. Wait,” she said, as my mouth dropped open. “I mean he tries to put people in jail and I try to keep them out. We’re at cross-purposes all the time.”

“But, but,” I sputtered. “That shouldn’t matter a hill of beans. Besides, you ought not to take your work home with
you. Wesley Lloyd never did.” It flashed through my mind that Wesley Lloyd wasn’t the best example to bring up.

“Well,” she said, tapping now with a pencil on her desk. “It’s come to a head now. See, I’m Dixon Hightower’s attorney and I’m convinced that he shouldn’t be in prison. He should be getting care and treatment, not be locked up like a criminal. He’s just not responsible for his actions. Coleman, of course, doesn’t agree with me. And it’s caused . . . difficulties between us.”

“Oh, Binkie, for goodness sakes,” I said. “You can’t mean you’ve let that little no-account sneak thief break up your wedding! Why, I never heard of anything so ridiculous. Believe me, he’s not worth it. And, for my money, Dixon ought to be locked up somewhere so he won’t be rummaging through other people’s things.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Miss Julia. I’ve been round and round with Coleman about it for days,” she said, looking everywhere but at me. “That, and other things. Coleman got upset when I hired J.D. to find Dixon; said it showed I didn’t trust the sheriff’s department to do its job. And I said that the deputies were so mad at Dixon for escaping and hiding so well that there was no telling what they’d do to him when they caught him. And Coleman said I was a liberal lawyer. And, well, it just escalated from there.”

Lillian, sitting beside me and listening to this pitiful excuse for a reason, crossed her arms over her breast and nodded to herself. “Uh-huh,” she said under her breath.

“That is nothing you two can’t resolve,” I said, leaning forward and grasping the edge of her desk. “You love each other, and you both knew what the other did for a living before things got this far. Binkie, I tell you what. Let’s go ahead with the wedding since it’s so near and already planned and everything, then you and Coleman’ll have all the time in the world to straighten this out.”

“Miss Julia, I, oh, . . . excuse me.” She jumped up from her chair and ran for the door. I heard her hurried footsteps outside the office, fading as she went down the hall. A door slammed somewhere in the depths of the building.

“Well, whatever was that about?” I turned to Lillian, my eyebrows raised. “If she’s too upset to talk about the problem, she could at least be courteous about it.”

Lillian put her hands on her knees and leaned on them. “She with chile, Miss Julia.”

“That still doesn’t . . . she’s
what
?”

“She pregnant or I ain’t never seen pregnant before.” Lillian nodded her head decisively.

“But they’re not married!” I said, even as I realized it was probably the silliest thing I’d ever said. “I mean, how can you tell?”

“I see it ’round her eyes. It don’t never fail. A baby in the womb show up first ’round yo’ eyes. She down yonder right now throwin’ up ever’thing in her stomach.”

“Well, I never!” I was too done in to question Lillian’s diagnosis. She’d never been wrong before, and had predicted a number of little arrivals long before any announcements had been made.

Lillian stirred in her chair, ready to rise. “We might better go see ’bout her. She prob’bly need a wet washrag on her head.”

“Wait, Lillian. I’m not sure I can stomach . . . well, you know how suggestible I am. Maybe we should leave her alone. She hasn’t seen fit to confide in us, so she might not appreciate us knowing her secret. Although, obviously, it won’t be a secret for long.”

I got to my feet, unable now to sit still. “Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe this. Lillian, if this is so, and I don’t doubt you, it’s all the more reason to get those two married.” I stopped in mid-pace and turned to her. “You reckon Coleman knows? It’d
be just like her to keep it from him, too, just like she’s done with us. She can be too independent for her own good sometimes. Come on, Lillian, let’s go tell him, and tell him he’s got to make Binkie see reason.”

“Well, I don’t think it our place—” she started, but to keep up with me she had to step lively.

“Mary Alice,” I said, pausing beside her desk on my way out. “Tell Binkie not to worry about a thing. It’ll work out, or I’m going to know the reason why.”

Mary Alice nodded, her eyes wide as I sailed out the door, Lillian close behind.

“The first thing we have to do,” I said, switching my pocketbook to the other arm, “is tell Coleman that expectant mothers don’t half know what they’re doing. He just has to overlook her and carry on without getting his feelings hurt. And the next thing we have to do is make Mr. Pickens hurry up and find Dixon Hightower. Then Dixon’ll just have to get himself another lawyer. That’ll solve a whole lot of problems right there.”

Lillian’s shoes flapped on her heels as she hurried to keep up with me. “I don’ know we oughtta be doin’ all that.”

“It can’t hurt,” I said, stepping off the curb. “I mean, what could be worse than the mess they’re already in?”

Chapter 17

It was close to suppertime by the time we got home, and the sky had darkened considerably, with the threat of rain hanging heavy over the town. The house smelled of the green beans that Lillian had left simmering on the stove. Hazel Marie had started the chicken frying, then she’d gone to her room as soon as Lillian took over. She was still in mourning over Binkie and Coleman, and in no shape to hear even more bad news. Little Lloyd was upstairs finishing his homework, and I began to set the table, after determining that Coleman had taken himself off while we were gone.

“Wonder where he went?” I said to Lillian. “He needs to be here with people who care for him and he needs to eat something. He’s had a shock to his system, and he ought not be wandering around by himself.”

I carried on in this way for some little while, talking and mumbling half to myself and half to her. I was so perturbed by the thought of another illegitimate child on the way that I forgot the place mats. Just put everything on the bare table.

“I declare, Lillian,” I said, folding a napkin into tiny pleats and wrapping it around my finger. “I’d think Little Lloyd would be enough.”

“What you talkin’ ’bout?”

“You know.” I walked around the counter and lowered my voice. “Enough children out of wedlock. I mean, can’t those two see what a handicap it’ll be? Binkie ought to know better,
being a lawyer and all. But, I declare, I don’t think I can bring it up to her, face-to-face. I’d be so embarrassed.”

She dried her hands on a paper towel, and said, “Don’t look like it hurt Little Lloyd none, an’ I know lotsa chil’ren in the same boat.”

“Well, I know it happens.” I shuddered and turned away. “I just can’t bring myself to think about it. In detail, that is. There’re things that just shouldn’t be done without a marriage license, or even discussed.”

“Miss Julia, that kinda goin’s-on been done without no license for long as people been around. An’ you know it. You ain’t gonna change people, so quit worryin’ it to death.” She picked up a long fork and began turning the chicken in the hot grease. “An’ ain’t no reason for you to talk to ’em about it, neither.”

“Well,
some
body has to! This is a small town, Lillian, and everybody’ll know. I tell you, I’ve suffered from that situation with Hazel Marie and Mr. Springer, knowing that every time anybody looks at her they see them together. And no telling
how
they see them together.” I shuddered again, then pulled myself together. “But I’m over that now and hardly ever think of it. But, imagine Binkie raising a child in this town by herself while everybody knows its daddy is driving around in a patrol car. She can’t even pretend she’s a widow or divorced.” I stopped again as an errant thought entered my mind. “Wonder which Pastor Ledbetter’d think is the worst, to get divorced or to give birth out of wedlock? That’s a theological dilemma, right there, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think ’bout them things, myself. What I think about is we got a few more days ’fore the weddin’, an’ lots can happen ’tween now and then.” She began lifting the chicken pieces to drain on paper towels before putting them on a platter. “You go call Miss Hazel Marie an’ Little Lloyd to the table. This rice ’bout ready, an’ I’m startin’ the gravy now.”

As we sat at the table, I saw that Hazel Marie’s eyes were still red and teary from her earlier bouts of crying. She said she could hardly swallow for the lump in her throat, so not wanting to start anything up again, I put off telling her what Lillian suspected about Binkie. Plus, I didn’t want the boy to hear about such things at his tender age. Little Lloyd didn’t have much to say, affected as he was by the sudden change in all our plans.

I finally broke the silence. “Wonder where he is?”

“Who?” Hazel Marie asked.

“Why, Coleman, of course. All I can think of is how hurt he is, and how hungry he must be. I wish he’d come eat something.”

“Maybe he’s over at Binkie’s.” Hazel Marie perked up at the thought. “Maybe they’re getting back together.”

“You reckon? Oh, I hope so. Put them both in your prayers tonight. You too, Little Lloyd.”

“Yessum, I will.” The boy stirred his rice and gravy, then looked up at me. “Maybe we ought to start the prayer chain for them.”

I dropped my fork with a clatter. “Don’t even think such a thing! Why, if Emma Sue Ledbetter got wind of this, there’s no telling where it would end.” And, thinking to myself but not wanting to tell him, I had a sudden image of Binkie, heavy with child, being gossiped about all up and down the prayer chain. “There’s nothing wrong with the prayer chain, Little Lloyd, but some things need to be offered up within the family. And this is one of them.”

“What’re we going to do about Saturday?” Hazel Marie asked, as if she’d suddenly come out of her daze.

“I don’t know yet. I keep thinking that they may decide to go through with it, and I’d hate to have everything canceled if they do. Besides, if we start calling and telling all the guests that the wedding’s off, they’ll want to know why. And what’re
we going to tell them? I certainly don’t want to go into details because nobody’d believe they broke up over Dixon Hightower. I can hardly believe it myself.”