The Ladies' Room (16 page)

Billy Lee was on the other side of the door with a big grin on his face. He held up a small suitcase, one of the new ones on
wheels with a handle that popped up and down. "I brought over
an extra in case you need it."

I unlatched the screen door and opened it. "Come on in."

He took two steps back. "I don't think so. Not at this time of
night and with you already in your nightgown. Look across
the street. Viola is peeking out her curtain. Probably heard me
knocking on the door."

"I really don't care. We aren't teenagers, and you can come
inside if you want. Besides, you're over here all the time. Day
and night," I said.

"No, really, all kidding aside, I've got to get things ready
for the trip."

He left, and I toted the case upstairs. The grapevine would
be on fire the next morning. Billy Lee had delivered a suitcase
to Trudy. Gossips would be speculating about whether I was
packing my things to move back in with Drew. But after that
stunt with the car, would he even take me back? And I'd be
gone two whole days, so if someone was nosy enough to call,
I wouldn't be there to give out answers. I smiled the whole
time I folded shirts and jeans-and my two good Sunday
dresses in case I needed them.

I slept poorly. I made mental lists of what I'd buy when we
stopped at the Galleria. Billy Lee surprised me the next morning when he parked a big dark blue van under the shade tree in
the backyard. I didn't know he owned anything other than a
rusty old work truck.

I had the door open before he knocked. "Hey, where did
that van come from?"

"Keep it in the garage part of my shop building. I customized it to haul eight-foot pieces of lumber so the wood won't
get wet if it rains."

I settled into the bucket seat and wrapped the seat belt
across me. "I like it. Sits up high."

"Someday when I'm not buying wood, we'll take my car
somewhere"

That was the first inkling I had that he owned a car. Life did
have its little surprises. What else did Billy Lee have out there in that big old building with its big old garage doors`? My curiosity was piqued, but I didn't want to pry.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked.

"Country," I said.

"George Strait?"

"Love him."

He put in a CD, and we listened to George for almost an
hour. That alone was a treat. When I rode with Crystal, she
listened to rock music. I'd learned to tune it out and go deep
inside myself to think about other things while she bobbed her
head and tapped on the steering wheel. When Drew and I went
anywhere, he listened to classical. I treated it the same way
and let it flow in one ear and out the other while Drew tapped
on the steering wheel and hummed along. The only time I got
to listen to country music was when I went anywhere alone.

"What kind of specialty wood are we going after?" I asked,
when he took the CD out and handed me the case to pick out
another one.

"Aspen"

"What is that?" I flipped through and found an Alan Jackson that I liked and handed it to him.

"It's very expensive and the new in-thing for furniture and
cabinets. Got pretty grain in it." He slid the CD into the slot,
and Alan started singing "Livin' on Love."

"How expensive?" I tried to ignore the lyrics, but they sank
into my soul when Jackson sang that without somebody, nothing ain't worth a dime.

Did I believe that? Yes, I did. But I had Billy Lee, so life
was worth more than a dime!

Billy Lee talked above the music. "What I plan to buy today
will easily fit in this van and will run about two thousand
dollars."

"What in the world are you going to build?"

"This and that. I'd rather talk about you than wood, Trudy.
Tell me why you didn't finish college. You were always so
smart. I figured you'd be running NASA or the FBI by this
time in your life."

"I got married. Actually, I wanted to teach, but Drew wanted a baby right away, and then he wanted me to stay at home and
raise her. We didn't need the money, so I did. When she
started school, I got a job as a teacher's aide just to keep from
dying of boredom, and that's what I've done ever since. Smart
as you are, I'm surprised you don't run NASA or at least a
Third World country."

"I like what I do and where I live. What would you do differently if you could undo and redo?" he asked.

I thought about that for maybe a mile. "My first thought is
that I wouldn't have gotten married at all, but if I hadn't, then
I wouldn't have Crystal. I might have been more aware of my
surroundings. I don't know. What would you have done differently?"

"Not one thing"

I must have had a quizzical look on my face.

"Anything different might have kept me from being where I
am today, and I'm happy to be riding down the road with you."

I smiled. Alan was singing that you couldn't give up on love
because that was the thing we had to keep us going.

"You going to answer that comment?" Billy Lee asked.

"I'm sorry. I was listening to the song. If I could go back
with the knowledge I have today, I would have spent more time
with Gert and less with those who've tossed me away."

He nodded seriously. "I think I might have been a little
bolder."

"So we both might have done a few things differently?"

"Maybe, as long as it didn't change the course of this day,"
he said.

The CD finished, and again he handed me the case. I chose
an old George Jones, and we listened to it as we rode. It was
eleven o'clock when we walked into Neiman Marcus. The
young salesperson only snarled her nose slightly when she
looked up at us. She wore her jet-black hair slicked back into a
bun at the nape of her neck. Her neat black power suit could
have been one of mine if she'd been Dumpster-diving in Murray County, Oklahoma, when Drew cleaned out my closets.

"May I help you?" she asked cautiously.

"No, ma'am. I can find what I need, but if you'd have a dressing room ready in about thirty minutes, I would appreciate it," I said.

I expected Billy Lee to groan at the idea of thirty minutes,
but he just smiled.

The clerk was coolly polite. "I'll be right here in this section. You come on back and find me when you're ready, and
I'll be sure you get right into a dressing room."

She didn't give me a brilliant, I'm-going-to-make-a-thousanddollar-commission smile, but, hey, she didn't slap a hanky over
her nose, either. I was wearing a pair of jeans with a bleach
spot on the knee, a knit shirt with Donald Duck on the front,
and stained white tennis shoes. Billy Lee wore his usual bibbed
overalls and a chambray shirt. Sell us a pitchfork, and we could
rival Grant Wood's artwork.

I gathered clothing, and Billy Lee sat in a plush chair outside the dressing room.

I went into the dressing room with a ton of clothes draped
over my arm, and not one thing fit. I was relieved when the
salesclerk asked from the other side of the door if she could be
of assistance.

"Thank you so much," I said. "Everything I've picked up is
too big. I've worn a sixteen women's petite for ten years. Have
they changed the sizing?"

"Not that I know about. Throw everything over the door,
and I'll find you the same things in a fourteen."

I began tossing an enormous number of three-hundreddollar dresses and slacks suits over the door. I'd intended to
buy one pantsuit and maybe two dresses for church, but everywhere I'd looked, something else had caught my eye-and
none of it was black.

"I took the liberty of bringing a few more items. You have
such lovely skin and beautiful eyes and hair that I thought
you'd look good in a clear red"

I stuck a hand out and hauled in a dozen hangers. She was a
smart cookie. Flattery would get her a nice commission that
day.

"What size shoe do you wear? I could look for something that would go with the outfits for you, so you can see what they'd
look like," she said.

I'd just acquired my own personal gofer-clerk. I'd had them
before but had never appreciated a single one until that moment. "That would be wonderful. Size seven and a half. B
width."

I picked out red slacks and a matching top, a lovely floral
summer skirt and mint-green cotton short-sleeved sweater, a
nice Capri set in bright yellow, two Sunday dresses, and shoes
to match each of the outfits.

She carried the whole pile to the checkout counter and
flinched slightly when I pulled out my checkbook.

"That's an out-of-state check, so I'll need to see some ID"

I could read her mind. She was thinking that she'd spent
two hours with me, and now I was about to write a check that
could bounce all the way to the moon.

I flipped open my wallet to show her my new driver's
license-short hair and all-and my bank card. "I realize this
is a big sale and I'm from out of state. Please feel free to call
my bank if it will make you feel better. I wouldn't want you to
get into trouble.

She swallowed hard, trying to decide whether to offend me
or take a chance.

I smiled brightly. "Go ahead and make the call. Phone
number for the bank is right there in small print."

It was worth the wait to see the look on her face. By the
time she hung up the phone, she was almost singing. "Thank
you for being such a good sport about this. I'm sorry I had to
keep you waiting. My name is Desiree. Be sure to ask for me
next time." She carefully hung the clothing in garment bags.

Billy Lee carried the bags when we left the store and waited
until we were completely out into the mall before chuckling
under his breath.

"What is so funny? Did you not like what I bought or the
top dollar I paid for it?"

"You looked lovely in all the outfits. I liked it when you
came out and let me see you in them. And I wouldn't care if you'd paid double what you did for the clothing. I don't even
care if you need it or just want it. It made you smile, so it was
money well spent"

"Wow," I muttered.

"That was fun," he said.

"Fun? You had to sit there and watch me try on clothes for
two hours, and you call it fun? I don't know another man in
the world with that much patience."

"Didn't take patience. You want to shop some more?"

"No, I'm finished," I said. "How about you? You want to
visit another lumberyard or hardware joint?"

"Only thing we need is lots of paint remover and sandpaper. We can get that in Tishomingo and not haul it all over the
country. Hungry? We can grab a burger or have lunch anywhere you want"

"How about just a plain old McDonald's burger and then on
to our B and B? Do we have reservations?"

"We sure do," he said.

Except for boasting more two-story homes that were in
beautiful condition, the little town of Jefferson, Texas, didn't
look all that different from Tishomingo. All the same, I felt
like a sugared-up six-year-old on Christmas. Freedom surged
through my veins as I tried to see everything at once.

Then Billy Lee parked the van in front of an antebellum
home, and I saw that there was definitely something in Jefferson that Tishomingo didn't have. Looking at that gorgeous
place practically made me hyperventilate. I know it raised my
blood pressure twenty points. The sign out front said it was
Scarlett O'Hardy's Bed-and-Breakfast, but it looked like Scarlett O'Hara's Tara. I'd read Gone With the Wind when I was
fifteen and once a year since. It's my favorite book, and sitting
there in front of a replica of Tara was like a dream come true.

"It's gorgeous. Can we tour it?" I whispered.

Billy Lee got out of the van and opened the door for me. "I
made reservations for you to have Miss Scarlett's room. I'll be
staying in the general's room."

"We're staying here?" I asked breathlessly.

"I thought you might like it, but there are other options."

"Oh, no! I want to stay here. Really, I do." I hopped out of
the van and walked beside him up to the porch. The reverence
in my heart was akin to what I felt walking into church on
Sunday morning. This was Tara rebuilt. Scarlett's spirit probably lived on in the walls, along with Rhett Butler's.

I didn't drool all over the front of my shirt when we walked
up onto the porch, but that was an absolute miracle. If I'd had to speak or stand in front of a firing squad, I would have put the
blindfold on and said my last prayer. We were met at the door
by a man dressed like an antebellum butler who took our luggage straight up the stairs. As we followed him, I noticed green
velvet drapes like Miss Ellen's po'teers at Tara in a sitting room.

The butler swung open the doors to Miss Scarlett's room
and stepped aside. Billy Lee leaned on the doorjamb and
watched me make a complete fool of myself. I squealed like a
little girl and didn't care if Mamie rose from the grave and
scolded me for acting like a heathen. I was right in the middle
of a copy of Scarlett's bedroom.