“What do you think?” Alex asked Lisa.
Lisa pushed up off her haunches after inspecting the long cupboard space under the master bathroom twin sinks and vanity. “Plenty of storage, that’s for sure. More than we’ll ever need.” She brushed off her hands. “Can see why you zeroed in on this place. Certainly is spacious.”
He was pleased she approved of his selection. “You agree we should buy it?” He was prepared to make a full-price offer to ensure they got the house. Buying the home long-distance would present unique problems.
She surveyed the bathroom one more time. “I do. Let’s go tell Betty.”
“Good choice,” Betty said, her words echoing slightly off bare living room surfaces. The home carried a faint smell of mildew, probably from months of being uninhabited and closed up without benefit of air conditioning. “A perfectly respectable neighborhood for a young doctor and his wife. An additional benefit y’all will appreciate is being only a couple miles from First Pres.”
“First Pres?” asked Lisa, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
Betty reached out, touched her arm in a motherly gesture. “Oh Miss Lisa, sorry. Keep forgetting y’all are new to town. It’s just that everybody refers to First Presbyterian as First Pres. That’s where y’all will want to attend Sunday services and midweek Bible study.”
Interesting. “Why’s that?” Alex asked.
Betty seemed shocked to be asked, as if some things were self-evident. “Well, ’cause that’s where all the socially prominent folk—the ones you’ll want to be on a first-name basis with—attend.” She flashed them a satisfied smile, as if this golden nugget of information was just one additional benefit of choosing her as their real estate agent.
Lisa raised an eyebrow at Alex, demurring to him.
Betty obviously caught the exchange. “Y’all are Christian, aren’t you?”
Again Lisa nodded for Alex to answer. He hesitated, momentarily taken aback by the in-your-face question. Although mentally prepared to encounter more overt religiosity than what they were used to back home, the assumption triggered resentment. Ignore it. Move on.
“We were married in an Episcopal church,” he said. True. But only because they decided a traditional ceremony bestowed a solemnity to marriage vows that a simple civil ceremony could not. Even so, it had been a modest service attended only by close family members and a few friends.
Laughing, Betty patted Lisa’s arm again. “Oh, well, Episcopalians count too, dear. After all, we’re all God’s children. Us Christians, that is.”
Did that mean Buddhists, Muslims, and all other non-Christians were summarily excluded from the God’s Children Club? Again, he said nothing.
The momentary tension gone, Betty continued. “And be sure y’all attend First Pres Bible study, ’cause that’s where you really get to know your kind of people.”
Your kind of people? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
From the corner of his eye, he caught Lisa roll her eyes.
“Y’all don’t even have to be Presbyterian to attend. We embrace all Christian denominations same way we accept all our southern teams. No discrimination there.” She let out a short laugh. “Y’all should see us during football season. Lord have mercy! If Ole Miss, ’Bama, the Vols—any of our teams—play an outsider, we all get together and root for us rebels. Go Ole Miss! Go Vols! Have us a good old time with that.” She seemed momentarily engrossed in a memory, perhaps of days when her husband lived. Then, just as quickly, she snapped back. “Y’all love football, don’t ya?” Not opening it for debate, but as if validating their bona fides for buying in The Gardens.
What a strange conversation.
“We do,” he said truthfully, stopping short of adding he preferred collegiate games while Lisa preferred the NFL. Not wanting to chitchat with Betty any longer than necessary, Alex glanced through the window at the manicured landscape. “I’ll need to buy a lawn mower and hedging sheers.”
“For heaven’s sake, what for?” Betty asked, aghast. “Y’all can’t possibly think of doing your own yard work. That just wouldn’t be proper for a young professional. I have an excellent yard man. He’s black, but he’s one of them you can trust. I’ll pass along his number soon as y’all move in. You tell him Betty told you to call, and I guarantee he’ll do y’all proud.”
Lisa must have seen Alex fighting back a remark, for she gave him an almost imperceptible headshake.
With a sigh, Alex relaxed into the soft leather wingback, his eyes wandering the rich wood paneling and a series of gilt-framed paintings of what probably represented an English fox hunt: traditionally dressed riders atop horses, hounds at their hoofs, rolling green hills in the background. A waxing and waning hint of rich cigar smoke floated in the air. Small, traditional brass wall sconces with green shades cast soft, vertical swaths of light on the dark wood. Plush, soft carpet underfoot.
Too amped from house buying, Lisa and Alex decided it’d be fruitless to retire to their hotel room, so they decided instead to enjoy a glass of wine in the lobby bar and rehash the events of the day. Earlier that evening they’d dined at Justine’s again with Garrison and Anne Majors.
“You notice that none of the houses we saw was contemporary?” Alex said.
“I did. Everything here is so traditional. All the furniture, too. Not a piece of ours will fit in here.”
“I know.” He disliked the “cutesy homey” touches so prevalent in the houses they’d toured. Plaques with “Bar” printed in 1880s-style lettering above wet bars, or the “God Bless This Home” embroideries. Then there was all the brass: lamps, free-standing toilet paper holders, door handles, cabinet pulls, on and on. He and Lisa favored contemporary styles in brushed nickel or stainless steel. “And what’s with all the claw-foot bathtubs? Doesn’t anyone take a shower?”
“Guess they use the bathtub for that.”
“How does that work?” He held up a hand. “Yeah, I know. You pull the shower curtain around the tub, but still—a ton of water must splash on the floor.”
She laughed, inspecting her wine, rocking the glass to check the “legs.” “That’s one of the things I like about the new house; it has a couple showers.”
“Yeah, but they’re still just tubs with three walls around them rather than a real shower stall. Did you notice none of them have a light? I stepped in and pulled the curtain closed, and it was like being in the black hole of Calcutta.”
“I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “Notice the kitchen wallpaper?” She stuck a finger in her open mouth. “That’s the first thing to go.”
Alex nodded. “How about the knotty pine in the study? I’ll paint over that with a neutral color, maybe a taupe.” He’d been considering ways of making the interior more open and inviting.
“Almost every piece of furniture other than our bed will have to be replaced sooner or later.”
Yikes. “That can come later. Before we do anything, we need to settle in and see what we can do with what we already have.” The thought of what it would cost to furnish their new home was unnerving. Since being fired, his priorities had changed dramatically. Now, his foremost goal was to completely free them from any debt. Once he’d done that, he’d begin to build a nest egg. Never again would he be placed in such a financially vulnerable position. Now, financial freedom trumped all other career goals.
“You okay with all this?” he asked. “Buying the house and moving here?”
Lisa swirled the wine around the interior of her glass, then held it up to the light to inspect its color. “Think so. Guess we’ll find out soon enough. Speaking of which … what’d you think of Betty?”
He wondered if this was queuing up to be an I-told-you-so moment. “Not sure exactly what you’re asking. She found us a house, so that’s okay. Why?”
“You know what I’m talking about—the whole being-a-Christian thing. I saw your reaction.”
He had admittedly been saddened by their conversation with Betty. “Guess you were right the first time we discussed this. This is the Bible Belt, so guess I should’ve expected something like that. But I wasn’t prepared to hear it so strongly. Thought maybe in this day and age, things would be different. Obviously that’s not the case. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
Lisa watched another woman walk out of the bar, probably critiquing her dress. “I know. I found it off-putting too. I mean, what would she have done if I said we were Muslim or Buddhist?”
Alex chuckled. “Probably would’ve stroked.”
“Does this mean we’re going to have to become SEC fans?”
“If we want to fit in.”
“Could be awkward if, say, Ole Miss plays a PAC 8 team.”
She was right, Alex knew. No matter how long they might live here, they’d remain loyal to their West Coast teams. “Guess we just don’t invite anyone over to watch the game.”
“True.”
Alex raised his glass in a toast. “To new beginnings.” And for the first time, he wondered if Weiner may have done him a favor by forcing him from the nest. Perhaps. But the way it had been done, the deceit, could never be forgiven. Some day, in some way, he would return the favor.
“To us and a fresh start.” Their glasses clinked.