The Quaker Café (35 page)

             
“So how is the campaign going?”

             
Liz moaned. “It’s not going, not going at all. With Maggie in the hospital and the wedding, I’ve completely dropped the ball.”

             
“Does it matter that much?” her mother asked.

             
“What?  The election or the campaigning?”

             
Liz spotted the turn onto Jonathan Lucas Street and thought she saw a car about to relinquish a much-coveted parking space. She stopped dead in the right lane and waited for the car to edge out in front of her.

             
“The election,” her mother said.

             
“Not that much. Not anymore. My priorities have shifted.”

             
Liz pulled up to parallel park, backed in too wide, and had to pull up and start over again. When she had the car within walking distance of the curb, she took a deep breath and said, “If I had it to do again, I wouldn’t file. My biggest concern is how much I will disappoint Maggie if I don’t put out the effort, and then lose.”

             
“You’ve got to have the passion,” her mother said. “Whatever you do, find the passion. No point in stepping into that circus otherwise. Whatever’s left of your family life will be gone.”  

They got out of the car
. Barbara opened the door to the wig shop and did a quick sweep of the merchandise. “Not here. Let’s head on out to Mt. Pleasant,” and with that she turned and walked back to the car.

             
At the second shop in Mt. Pleasant they met an engaging saleswoman who read Liz’s mother like a book and realized immediately who the buyer was in the twosome. She selected a wig she described as “Aspen Honeynut” and maneuvered the pile of hair onto Liz’s head. Momentarily breathless, Liz was riveted by the reflection of her former self. Lord, how she missed those unmanageable curls.

“You like it?” her mother asked
. “I think it’s quite attractive.”

“I love it, Mom
. But this wig is much too expensive. I probably wouldn’t wear it more than this once.”

“We’ll take it.” Barbara motioned to the sales clerk and followed her to the register
. They dodged efforts to be sold adhesive, tape and an assortment of other accessories. Barbara pulled out her credit card. The saleswoman then offered the name of a hair salon close-by that would fit the wig and style it. Over Liz’s unheeded objections, she found herself draped in a plastic cape in front of an unflattering full-length mirror while her mother and the hair stylist discussed various options. Afterwards, they had lunch and then set off to get manicures. It was 3:20 p.m. before they headed back to the hotel. For the first time in months Liz felt beautiful. How could hair and nails carry such a wallop? 

*****

“Mom,” Liz said as they drove back over the Cooper River Bridge, “Are there times that you weren’t truthful with Dad?”

Barbara looked at her daughter
. “What kind of
times
do you mean?”

“Well,
times when you’ve done something or learned about something you didn’t share.”

“Shoot, he doesn’t know diddle squat about most of the
somethings
I do. If we shared every thought we had during the day, we’d both die of boredom.”

When
Liz didn’t respond after a few moments, her mother broke the silence. “But you’re not just talking about everyday
somethings
, are you?”

“No, this is a pretty big deal.”  

“From the past or present? Generally, my advice is to let the past stay in the past. Can’t do anything to change it, so let it be.”

Liz thought before she spoke
. “It’s something from the past that affects the present.”

“Are people involved other than you and Chase?”

“Yes, quite a few.”

“Will this shared truth result in someone getting hurt?”

“Quite possibly. It might also result in someone being healed.”

Barbara looked back over the river
. “How did you stumble upon this truth, anyway?”

“At work.”

“Are you bound by confidentiality?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have no choice. The decision has been made for you.”

“I know.”

“Life gets complicated, doesn’t it?”

The wedding came straight out of the pages of
Bride
magazine. Whether or not mayhem reigned in the bridesmaids’ quarters or the mind of the mother-of-the bride, it appeared to be the wedding of every girl’s dreams. Estelle emerged as an adorable flower girl and she shyly dropped lavender rose pedals down the white tapestry that covered the main aisle. Her younger brother, Stin, accompanied Evan, who carried the ring as if he held the British Royal Crown. Both dressed in pint-size tuxedos, smiles followed them down the aisle. One top button on Evan’s shirt had come undone, revealing a slight burst of a blue Tar Heel T-shirt underneath his tie. Liz imagined she was the only one who noticed.

The nine bridesmaids each floated down the aisle in whimsical lavender dresses that danced around their slim figures like a gentle breath of summer
. Their long hair, adorned with stands of violets, fell loosely over their shoulders.

The
groomsmen waited at the altar: confident, handsome, each in command of his own corner of the world. It could have been a movie. Nat stood at the center in front of the altar with Chase as his best man. Adam stood next to Chase and Nicholas stood on the end of the line of six fraternity brothers, taking his role in this drama very seriously. He quite liked the tuxedo look.

For the first time
all weekend Liz felt equal to any woman there. Her dress fit perfectly and the wig gave her a new level of confidence. She sat next to Louise Lloyd with her mom and dad, Grandma and Grandpa Hoole, and the Lloyd parents in Pew #43. As predicted, Grandpa wore a suit with an open collared white shirt, no tie, and Grandma had on a black skirt and sweater with an off-white blouse. Their attire attracted no attention. Nobody cared.

Pew #43 was rather famous in the history of Charleston
. It had been enlarged and squared off with seats stretching three-quarters of the way around. Originally built for George Washington’s visit on May 8, 1791, it accommodated Robert E. Lee seventy years later. The pew was directly opposite the enormous pulpit that brought the focus to the front quarter of the church. The obvious disadvantage would be that anyone sitting on the right side of the church behind the pulpit was unable to see the front altar. Thus, all the parents and grandparents of the bride and groom sat together in the one enlarged pew, as was the custom.

The steeple bells struck
7:00. Two trumpet volleys announced the arrival of the bride as Alexandra Louise Lloyd entered on her father’s arm to the organist’s rendition of “Rondeau” by Mouret. Mrs. Lloyd stood. The congregation followed her lead.

The bride was radiant
. Her father seemed a bit pale. Liz fantasized that he had just done the mathematical calculations of what this elaborate affair cost him. More likely, however, age had  tapped him on the shoulder and reminded him that this lovely young woman had been but an infant in his arms a short time ago.

The bride looked like an angel
. Tiny pearl beads in the veil reflected the light and danced over her head and bare shoulders like fairy dust. A continuation of beaded work across the back of the dress and down the bridal train accentuated the image of a princess. While Liz had never paid much attention to fashion, she fully appreciated the beauty and poise of her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Lexa held her head high. Her posture was perfect. She smiled with genuine warmth in recognition of friends and family from one side of the church to the other. Her father escorted her to the front of the altar where they stopped, with her on his left, and Nat on his right.

             
“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today …” began the priest as Daniel Lloyd stood with his powerful shoulders like a stone wall between the couple. After a prayer, the priest began a short homily on the sanctity of marriage.

              Daniel was immobile.

“And who
giveth this woman for marriage?” 

             
There was a long pause before Daniel Lloyd said, “Her mother and I.”  The priest nodded for him to take his seat, but Lexa’s father remained planted in place. The priest looked momentarily confused. His eyes beckoned for Lexa’s father to join the congregation. Daniel did not respond. After a second futile attempt to unhinge him with a slight gesture of the hand, the priest asked that everyone bow their heads in prayer.

Someone began to sniffle near the altar
. At first Liz assumed that it might be the maid-of-honor, or even the bride herself, but the sniffling soon turned into sobs. Liz glanced over at Louise. Louise Lloyd scanned the crowd, too, first in the direction of the grandparents, and then around the church.

As eyes combed the pews a small voice began to quiver softly
. Then, as if her heart would break: “I don’t want anyone to give me away. I want to stay with my mommy and daddy.” Estelle, the flower girl was crumbling. She held her basket of rose petals precariously in one hand as she tried to wipe her nose and eyes with the other. It was then that Daniel Lloyd broke rank and on bended knee crouched next to her.

“It’s all right, honey
. Nobody really gives you away. You always have your mommy and daddy.” He offered the child his hand and walked her back to where Sophie and Jack sat. Then the omnipotent father-of-the-bride slipped in to Pew #43, sat, and  melted like ice in a warm glass of tea as manly tears began to roll down his thick craggy cheeks. Liz fumbled in her purse and found her handkerchief.

*****

              The Mills House, hardly more than a block from the church, provided the perfect venue for the reception. At 10 p.m., Grandpa and Grandma Hoole took the two tired boys by their hands and offered to take them upstairs. “You two take your time,” Grandpa said. “Euphrasia can go ahead to our room and if I’m asleep when you come in, just wake me.”  Chase gave him their extra room key and thanked them.

             
By midnight, most of the older guests had left, and those who remained on the dance floor were whirling to rhythms that challenged the over-forty crowd. Chase struggled with the change in tempo. Liz was ready to leave. They slipped out of the ballroom and into the hallway leading to the elevators. Liz laced her fingers into Chase’s hand.

“You look beautiful,” Chase said.

              “Thank you,” she said, grateful to hear once again the tenderness in his voice.

Chase slipped the key card into their roo
m lock. Grandpa Hoole lay awake on top of the bedspread opposite the two boys. He roused and sat up as they walked into the room.

“Did you get some rest?” Chase asked.

“I’m fine,” Grandpa said. “The boys went right to sleep. Just been lying here thinking.”

“Well, let’s get you back to your room
. We hope to get off tomorrow around noon. Plan to eat a big breakfast,” Chase said.

“Listen,” Grandpa said, his voice a bit strained
. “Perhaps you and I could drive back in one of the cars alone?” He glanced over at Liz. “Maybe Liz would take Grandma and the boys with her?”

“We could do that,” Chase said
.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Grandpa said
. He lowered his head and moved towards the door. “I think just the two of us in the car together might help.”

“Okay, Dad,” Chase said and turned to look at Liz after his father left
. Liz held his stare. Without speaking they both knew what Grandpa needed to say in the confines of a car where neither could walk away from the truth.

Chapter Thirty-four

It was a long drive home, much of it in silence. Chase and Grandpa Hoole followed Liz and Grandma on I-95 to Florence. There Liz pulled off to get the boys hamburgers at a drive-thru, but Chase passed the exit and kept going.

             
“What I wouldn’t give for a sweet potato,” Grandma mourned. “It’s been three days.” Grandma Hoole had become an ardent believer in the value of sweet potatoes. Long ago she came to the conclusion that sweet potatoes far surpassed the noble apple as the real source of health and longevity. She and Grandpa ate them religiously at lunch and dinner and there were always cold sweet potatoes in her refrigerator for snacks.

“Do you know what it is?” Grandma
Hoole asked.

“What
?”

“You know, what Grandpa wants to tell Chase?”

“I’m not sure,” Liz said, which was the truth.

“Nathan’s been brooding for quite a while
. I hope Chase can help him work through whatever is bothering him.”