Julia 03 - Miss Julia Throws a Wedding (19 page)

I saw his shape lean on the kitchen counter for a few minutes, thinking he was alone. I hesitated before speaking, not wanting to peel him off the ceiling if I startled him too bad.

“Coleman,” I said as softly as I could.

“Huh?” He straightened abruptly and whirled around. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t shoot. It’s just me.”

“Miss Julia? What’re you doing sitting there in the dark?”

“Waiting for you. Sit down, Coleman, I want to talk to you. And you need to talk to me.”

I wasn’t sure he was going to do it. He stood by the counter for a few seconds, as if he were considering just walking on upstairs or maybe out to the car and driving away. But I’d counted on his good manners, and sure enough, he felt for a chair and pulled it away from the table.

Then he turned back and pulled off a paper towel from the roll on the counter. Mopping at his hair and wiping down his arms with it, he said, “Let me get the lights on.”

“No, leave them off, and come sit down. What I have to say is better said in the dark. At least, it is for me. I might not be able to talk about it with the lights on. Coleman, you know I’m not one to interfere in other people’s business, but there’s something you need to know. About Binkie.”

I was able to make him out in the shadows of the room, as he sat heavily in the chair. His broad shoulders slumped in what looked like more sadness than I could bear. If I’d had any hesitation at all before this, I knew then that I was right to take a hand in matters.

He propped his elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand. “Okay,” he said with a deep sigh. “Let’s hear it.”

Chapter 19

“There’s something about Binkie I don’t think you know. And you need to, whether she’s seen fit to tell you or not.”

He didn’t reply at first, just sat there in the dark waiting, I guessed, for more bad news. I wished I could make out the expression on his face before I went on, but all I could see was his head turned down as he looked at the table.

Then he said, “Did she tell you?”

“No. Lillian did.”

“Lillian? How does she know?”

“Lillian knows a lot of things, believe me. Anyway, the thing is, do you know?”

“What’re we talking about?”

“We’re talking about the fact that Lillian says that Binkie’s expecting a baby. Now wait,” I hurried on, “I know this is a shock to you, and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. But now you can see how important it is for you and Binkie to get over your differences about Dixon Hightower and get yourselves married as soon as you can. Like, on Saturday.”

“You’ve lost me here, Miss Julia. What’s Dixon got to do with anything?”

“Well, I don’t know! It’s beyond me to understand how the two of you have let that thieving rascal come between you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“To me, either. Is that what Binkie said?”

“Yes, it is. But, Coleman, let’s not get off on Dixon. You
don’t seem to understand what I’m telling you. Binkie’s pregnant. I can’t be any clearer than that, and you have to do something about it.”

He smeared his hand down his face, then leaned back in his chair. “I know she is, Miss Julia. That’s why we decided to get married in such a hurry.”

“Well, thay Lord,” I said, stunned that he’d known all along, yet had let things come to such a pass. “Then what’s the problem? Why in the world have you called it off?”

He was quiet for so long that I wasn’t sure he was going to answer me. I declare, getting a man to talk about personal matters was like pulling teeth.

Finally, in a rasping voice, he said, “Binkie changed her mind. We went to the pastor’s counseling session the other night, which wasn’t the smartest thing we’ve ever done. He gave us a compatibility test that made Binkie roll her eyes. I thought she was going to walk out when he started telling us about a wife’s obligations to her husband, and how the husband has authority over the wife. And how the purpose of marriage was for each couple to have three children—two to replace the parents and one to replenish the earth. Whatever that means. I knew that wasn’t going over too well and, sure enough, on the way home, she said she just wasn’t cut out to be anybody’s wife. And that having a baby was no reason for either of us to feel we had to marry.” He gave a short, harsh laugh that sounded like it hurt his throat. “As if that was the only reason I . . . well, she said she didn’t want me to feel obligated to marry her, to have a shotgun wedding just to live up to old-fashioned and outdated conventions. She said that a woman could manage just as well without a husband. And nothing I say makes any difference. . . .” He trailed off with a world of pain in his voice.

It was my turn to remain silent. I was stunned that an expectant mother wouldn’t jump at the chance to marry her
baby’s father. Especially this father, who was as fine a man as ever walked the face of the earth.

“Coleman,” I finally managed to get out. “I don’t know what to say. I could just wring Pastor Petree’s neck, but Binkie should know better than to listen to him.” I stopped, trying to understand this younger generation that seemed willing to throw out the baby with the bathwater, which I guessed was a bad choice of words in the present situation. Some old-fashioned notions needed throwing out, but not all of them. I recalled hearing Wesley Lloyd rant and rave about overeducated young women who got too big for their britches, demanding high salaries and benefits and so on. He’d go on a tear about a woman’s proper role in life and, according to him, that role was not in positions of authority in business or in the church. And Pastor Ledbetter confirmed his views from the pulpit. To hear either of them tell it, a woman was made to be dependent on her father, then on her husband, and woe be to any woman who stepped out of line.

I was confused in my own mind. I certainly did not agree with Wesley Lloyd’s views, or with the pastor’s, especially after learning of Wesley Lloyd’s extramarital escapades. Learning what he’d done had put a damper on everything else he’d pronounced as gospel.

But I couldn’t go so far as to agree with Binkie that a woman could do it all by herself, especially if she had a choice in the matter, which Binkie certainly did. And especially now that she was in such a delicate condition.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want to marry her, but she doesn’t want you to feel obligated just because people expect it of you both. Is that right?”

I saw his head nod in the gloom of the kitchen. “That’s about it.”

“Well, that’s the most wrongheaded thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m not going to stand for it. Coleman, you get after her
and don’t leave her alone. It’s all well and good to draw up into yourself, but not in this case. What you have to do is tell her that she promised to marry you on Saturday and that you’re holding her to it, and it doesn’t matter a hill of beans what other people think. First thing this morning as soon as it’s daylight, I want you to start sending her flowers. Send them every hour on the hour till her office is overflowing. Put a sweet note on every one. Call her, tell her you love her, and tell her you’re going to be standing in front of the arch in my living room come Saturday at four o’clock sharp. In the meantime, I’ll be talking to her, too, and telling her that nobody takes the pastor’s views on marriage seriously—just look at how many women run the households in town. And between us we’ll get that little unborn child some legitimate parents. And have the wedding that I’ve made all the arrangements for.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said, sounding so hopeless that I could’ve shaken him.

“Stop that, Coleman. You have to have a positive attitude. You’ve got to show her how excited and happy you are to be marrying her. If you act like it’s all hopeless, she’ll figure it is, too. No, you’ve got to let her know that you’re counting on her promise to marry you. Because, frankly, Coleman, women in her condition are known to have moods, so you just have to be understanding.”

“I don’t know, Miss Julia. Doing all that might turn her off even more.”

“What you’re doing now isn’t helping, is it?”

I saw a flash of his teeth as he either smiled or grimaced. “I guess not.”

“Then try my way and see what happens. Now, I want you to go on upstairs and get a good night’s sleep. What’s left of it, anyway. And then I want you to get up in the morning, determined to do everything you can to show her what she’ll be missing if she lets you go.”

“Well, she did say that I could see the baby and help with raising it. And she said that maybe in a year or so, if we still felt the same way, we might think about getting married. After it was clear to everybody that we weren’t being forced into it.”

“Good Lord,” I said, throwing up my hands. “Binkie’s the most mixed-up person I know. But that shows she doesn’t want to lose you, which means she loves you. Oh, Coleman,” I went on, struck with a sudden thought. “The license! Do you have one? Both of you have to sign for it, don’t you?”

“We did that early on Monday,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “Before she had second thoughts. I have it, though a whole lot of good it’ll do now.”

“You just hold on to it. You’re going to be using it,” I said with more assurance than I felt. “Wave that thing in her face, and remind her that you have proof of her promise.”

“I guess I can try it,” he said with a weak laugh. “Probably won’t change her mind, but nothing else has, either. When she gets an idea in her head, well, you know her, Miss Julia.” He got up and pushed his chair under the table. “I’d better get on to bed.”

“Yes, you do that. And, Coleman, I’m glad we had this little talk. I think it’s done you a world of good. You sleep well and we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

“Good night, then.” He started toward the back stairs, his shoulders still slumped, in spite of all my efforts.

“Coleman,” I said, as he was almost out of the room. “Come back a minute. There’s something I want to ask you that’s been worrying me.”

He turned back to face me, but didn’t come any closer. I figured he’d had about enough of my questions and probably my advice. But this was important.

“Why haven’t you given her an engagement ring?”

He shook his head and gave another little laugh. “She didn’t want one. Said it was too conventional, and that I didn’t need
to spend money on what was just a symbol.” He paused, then went on in a lower tone. “She said that we loved each other too much to need a reminder that we’d promised to get married. Kinda ironic now, I guess.”

I got up from my chair and said, “Listen to me, Coleman. Every girl wants a ring whether she says she does or not. I mean, what’s she going to show her friends if she doesn’t have a ring? And you’re going to get her one. I want you to go this very morning and buy the biggest and best ring you can afford, and if you can’t afford it, I’ll loan you the money.”

He thought about it for a minute. “What if she won’t take it?”

“I’m betting that she will. Especially if you give it to her in the most romantic way you can think of. Believe me, Coleman, romance can melt any woman’s heart.” I knew what I was talking about, because I’d never had any.

“Well, I guess I don’t have anything to lose by trying it. But, you know she’s not the romantic type.”

“Go to bed, Coleman, and take this thought with you: every woman in the world is the romantic type.”

Chapter 20