The Ladies' Room (17 page)

"Cammie King slept here many years ago. She played Bonnie Blue in the movie," the man said.

"Like it?" Billy Lee asked.

"Oh, Billy Lee, I love it. It's absolutely wonderful. I feel
like a southern belle."

"I'll show you to your room now," the man said to Billy Lee.

Before I could say another word, Billy Lee and the man
were gone, and the door was shut. I shut my eyes and turned
around slowly. I opened them to see a room filled with antique
furnishings, including a plush bed with an elegant headboard,
a fainting couch in the bay window, antique light fixtures, and
an oak mantel. Wallpaper with Scarlett-red background covered the walls, and the bathroom had a grand tub plenty big
enough for two people.

I ran a hand over the gorgeous bedspread and eased down
onto the fainting couch, watching the sunset for a few moments with the back of one hand thrown dramatically over my
forehead. Every word that went through my mind had a heavy
Georgia accent.

It was my birthday. I was officially over the hill, and no one
had remembered, but I didn't care. I'd just been given the most
wonderful accidental birthday gift in the whole world. Someday I would tell Billy Lee what he'd accomplished but not for
a long time. I was going to savor every single minute of the
time in Jefferson, Texas, and make memories to revisit time
and time again.

Momma used to say that I'd missed being a firecracker by only two days. I'd always wondered, if I'd been born on the
Fourth, if I'd have had more spunk and brains. I stared at the
woman in the mirror hanging above the dressing table. Dark,
curly hair. Nondescript green eyes with a few crow's-feet settling in around them. A square face with full lips. It shocked
me to realize I was the image of my grandmother. No wonder
Momma sometimes confused me for her mother when she
wasn't having a good day.

Though it was my birthday, I hadn't thought about my customary dozen red roses all done up in a big vase from Drew
until that moment. Momma would have thought I was a new
maid coming around to clean the toilets if I'd gone to see her
that day. She hadn't had a good day now in a long time. The
only way Crystal remembered my birthday was if I reminded
her. Then she'd run out to the jewelry store with her father's
credit card. I had at least half a dozen little gold pendants with
Mom scrolled diagonally across an open heart. They were in a
silver jewelry box on the dresser at Drew's house.

Had Charity found that box yet? Had she held her breath,
hoping to find diamonds and rubies, since that precious red
gem is my official birthstone? If she'd opened it, all she'd found
were little gold Mom necklaces bought at the last minute and a
promise ring Drew had given me six months before we were
officially engaged. I'd inherited his mother's engagement ring,
which he'd replaced with a wide gold wedding band when we
were married. Before we'd been married a year, the engagement ring went to the safe deposit box at the bank. It was one
of those things "in his possession."

I was in Miss Scarlett's bedroom. My heart was floating six
feet above my body, and I couldn't care less about roses, necklaces, or anything else. Nothing could erase or diminish the
joy of that moment. A knock on the door jerked me back to
the present. I opened it just a crack to see Billy Lee in a pair of
khaki slacks, a blue short-sleeved shirt that made his eyes
sparkle, and dress shoes. His sandy hair was combed straight
back, and he smelled heavenly after a fresh shave.

"Can you meet me down in the parlor in half an hour? I
thought we'd go to supper," he said.

I'm sure my face was a lesson in pure shock. Unable to
speak for the second time in an hour, I nodded. I took the
quickest shower I'd ever had, promising myself that later I was
going to take one that lasted until the hot water went stone
cold. I chose the swishy floral skirt and cotton sweater that
brought out the green in my eyes, ran a brush through my hair,
and slapped on a smidgen of makeup. I didn't rush down the
staircase but took my time and wished I had a green velvet
dress with a petticoat, maybe a parasol, and definitely a deep
southern accent. I didn't look or sound a bit like Scarlett O'Hara,
but I liked to think that my new fiery spirit was the same as
hers.

The parlor did not disappoint. Whoever designed it must
have loved and studied Tara. Billy Lee was sitting in one of
the red velvet wing chairs flanking the fireplace, and he stood
when he noticed me. He was even more handsome than Rhett
Butler that evening, and he had eyes only for me.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Where are we going?"

He looped my arm though his. "To supper. I hope you like
Italian. That's where I've made reservations."

"Love it. This is so . . " And then I saw the horse-drawn
carriage waiting at the curb.

"Thought you might like to go back in time." He smiled.

"Oh, my!" I gasped.

The driver held the door for us, and Billy Lee helped me
into the carriage. I wasn't Trudy Matthews; I was truly a southern belle. As we rode down brick streets, past the Christ Episcopal Church, the museum, and hotels, I imagined it as it was
in pre-Civil War days. I envisioned a time that offered a quieter, more genteel way of life. The driver kept up a steady
chatter about legends and lore about everything we passed. I
didn't need a notebook to write down every word. The whole
experience was branded deeply on my heart and mind.

When the carriage stopped at the Italian restaurant on the
west side of town, Billy Lee was a true southern gentleman
and offered his hand to help me out. He opened doors and
pulled out my chair at our table. He ordered a bottle of vintage wine, and I was amazed at his ability to pronounce the name.
I would have stumbled and stuttered, and the waiter probably
would have brought us Kool-Aid instead of a smooth, wonderful, deep red wine. I had veal parmesan. He had lasagna, and
we talked about how the movie and the book were different.
I'd never known a man who had read Gone With the Wind, and
I had never had so much fun in my entire life.

I glanced out the window at the carriage several times during dinner. We weren't far from the O'Hardy place, and a nice
stroll on a summer's evening would be fun, but I wanted another ride in the carriage to relish a few more minutes of the
slow life that Scarlett had experienced before the war.

"It's not going anywhere. I ordered it for the whole evening," he finally said.

I -smiled. "If this is my prize every time the floor man comes
around, I may hire him to varnish something once a week."

"So I did good, did I? Am I now sensitive, pretty, and what
else?"

"Just plain great," I said.

He grinned. "Hey, now, I like that word best of all."

"Finally, one we agree on," I teased.

He raised his wineglass. "To Trudy, who's beautiful in her
new outfit and with her curly hair."

I clinked mine with his. "Thank you, Billy Lee."

"Shall we order a tiramisu to go so you can have a midnight
snack if you get hungry?" he asked.

"Honey, usually I could eat two of those things, but it'll be
sometime tomorrow before I'm hungry again."

"If you want one later, we'll have it delivered to the hotel."

The waiter laid the check on the table. Billy Lee put some
bills inside the thin black folder and waved the waiter away
when he said he'd return with change.
---- - - - - - - -- - --

When we were back in the carriage, he told the driver to
give us the grand tour of town. I could give someone the grand
tour of Tishomingo in exactly five minutes. In a carriage it
might take fifteen, and that would allow time for the horses to
stop and nibble on Daisy Black's rosebushes that stuck out
over the sidewalk.

Jefferson was a different story. The driver took us east of
town, over a bridge across the Big Cypress Bayou. He told us
the history as he kept the horses moving along at a steady pace.
He talked, and I listened with one ear, but mostly I just let the
words flow through my brain. All the history didn't appeal to
me as much as did the frogs, crickets, and other creatures of the
night setting up a chorus that sounded exactly like "Happy
Birthday to Trudy."

The bayou had a peculiar smell to it, not anything like Pennington Creek in Tishomingo. Not even that year when the
water got so high that they had to close off the old wooden
swinging bridge did Pennington smell like the Big Cypress
Bayou.

"What are you thinking about?" Billy Lee asked.

"The old swinging bridge that used to be across Pennington
Creek when I was a little girl," I answered honestly.

He chuckled. "I take you on the grand tour of Jefferson, and
you think about the swinging bridge back home?"

"I'm sorry. It's so beautiful, and the evening is enchanted. I
was listening to the crickets and the frogs and thought of the
creek at home. I didn't mean ..."

He patted my hand, leaving his on top of mine instead of
moving it away. "You don't have to apologize. I was thinking
of getting a carriage so we could do this in Tishomingo, while
we listen to the crickets and frogs. Shall we buy one?"

"Great minds must think alike." I smiled up at him. I'd
never realized that he was that much taller than me.

"So you like my secret little town?"

"I love it. I can't wait until tomorrow to look in all the antiques stores we're passing."

"Has anyone ever told you how much fun you are? Honest,
funny, hardworking. Gert was right. You're the best thing that
came out of that whole family," he said.

My eyes popped open so wide, every crow's-foot must have
stretched out tight. "Gert said that?"

"Yes, she did, and I believe it. Give you a problem, and you
learn how to operate a bulldozer so you can plow it under."

"You sure you've got the right Trudy?" I asked.

"I'm more than sure. You've always been that way. It's what
I admired from the time we were little kids. My first memory
of you is when we were four. Your momma brought you to
dinner at Gert's place. And Lonnie mesmerized us by eating
peas with a knife"

"I do remember sitting on the back porch and watching him
eat. Everyone else had left the table, and he was still eating.
But I don't remember who all was on the porch with me"

"Marty, Betsy, and me," he said. "You said you could make
peas stay on the knife without falling off. All you had to do
was paste them on there. Marty and Betsy made fun of you
and called you silly. I thought you were pretty smart."

"You did?" I was amazed that anyone had ever put the word
smart into the same sentence with my name.

Billy Lee remembered a lot more about me than I did him.
Suddenly it was important that I know more.

"So tell me about you," I said.

"Born in the house I live in now. Lived there my whole life.
Went to school all thirteen years with you, then to Murray
State and lived at home. Finished my degree at Southeastern
in Durant and commuted. Got my Master's the same way. Didn't
get the doctorate, though."

Six sentences told Billy Lee's whole life. "Is that all?"

"All I'm willin' to talk about tonight," he said seriously. "It's
not my day. It's yours. Happy Birthday."

I was shocked. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"Must have been something Gert mentioned once."

Billy Lee's face turned crimson enough to glow under the
streetlights. I'd never seen a man do that before, and I couldn't
stop looking at him.

"Did she also mention that I'm obsessed with Gone With
the Wind? Billy Lee, did you do all this for me because you
knew that?"

"Guilty as charged," he said.

"It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for my birthday.
Thank you"

"You are very welcome," he whispered.

The next several moments were awkward. He was more sensitive and thoughtful than any man I'd ever known, and I
was tongue-tied. I knew I should say something either profound or funny, but nothing passed from brain to mouth.

Luckily the carriage ride ended, and Billy Lee walked beside me to the door and into the house. He followed me up to
the second floor and motioned toward a wicker settee. "Have
a seat, and let's talk."

I sat down on one end and patted the spot beside me. "Okay,
what are we going to talk about? Not remodeling tonight.
Right now I don't even want to think about high gloss or satin
varnish."

"We can talk about anything you want. I'd like to talk about
you, since it's your birthday," he said.

I felt like he'd put a crown on my head.

"But first I want to ... well ... just wait here" He stumbled
over the words. Then he jumped up and disappeared around the
corner.

I leaned forward and caught a few glimpses of the dining
room where we were to have breakfast the next morning. I felt
Billy Lee's presence when he sat back down, and I turned to
look at him. He was holding out a beautifully wrapped present.
"For you on your fortieth birthday. May all the ones ahead be
better than those that have already passed"

My first reaction was to let the tears welling up go ahead
and flow down my cheeks. But he thought I learned to drive
bulldozers just to plow my problems under. I wasn't about to
let that image die and be replaced by a whimpering fortyyear-old sentimentalist.

The present was too pretty to unwrap. It was done up in
slick red paper that matched the walls in Miss Scarlett's bedroom, and it was tied with a big satin bow. I held it on my lap
and stared at it.

"You going to open it or just hold it?" Billy Lee asked.

"It's too pretty to destroy."

"But you'll never know what's inside if you don't open it.
Take it off gently if you don't want to tear the paper."

"You won't laugh at me?"

He pulled out his pocket knife and said, "I promise. Use
this to slit the tape so you won't ruin the paper."