Anna stood for a moment under the sprawling oak at a front corner of Dolly’s yard, looking to the left and the right. Which way to go? She decided to head left and explore the stretch of road that she and Jesse hadn’t driven. It was flanked with trees here and there, offering a little merciful shade.
Dolly had loaned her a wide-brimmed straw hat to shield her face, and she was wearing the coolest thing she owned—a loose, sleeveless white cotton blouse and a full skirt made of feather-light, green-and-white gingham.
On the porch of a pretty little house not too far up the road, Anna spotted an old woman sitting in a rocking chair. The woman beckoned to Anna, who hesitated before walking up the short driveway and standing at the foot of the steps. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Anna.” She noticed that the woman’s eyes were very pale—cloudy even—and they were staring straight ahead, never looking at her.
The old woman smiled. “Good morning, Anna. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Lillian.”
Anna stepped onto the porch and sat down in the rocker next to her. Small and frail, the woman had her shoulder-length silver hair neatly pinned back on each side. She wore a blue cotton dress and navy bedroom slippers.
“Hello, Lillian.”
“You’re smiling,” Lillian answered.
“How did you—I mean—”
Lillian threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t worry, dear. I know I’m blind. It has been so for a long time now. But the Almighty gives us what we need to get by. I can hear things other people can’t—like footsteps on that dirt road and the sound of a smile. You are from the Midwest.”
“Yes! How can you tell?”
“Voices say all kinds of things. How long have you been here?”
“Since Saturday. We moved into a room at Dolly’s house—Dolly and Si Chandler. Do you know them?”
“Of course! Everybody on this loop knows everybody else. It has been so for all eternity. I bought my little house from them.”
“Do you live here by yourself?”
“Yes. This loop has been a comfort. I like having people around me. What about you? What brings you here?”
“Work. My husband—his name’s Jesse—he came down to work for the Army.”
Lillian nodded. “There’s more to your story, I believe. And I divine it to be a sad one. But I’ll not trouble you with the telling. I cannot abide meddlers and never intend to be one. However, I will say this. I believe there is happiness in store for you and your Jesse.”
“I sure hope you’re right. My mother used to say that I was the only one of her children who inherited my father’s patience. But it’s being tested.”
“Persevere, Anna, persevere. All will be well.”
“Can you tell I’m smiling now?”
“Yes! And you keep on.”
“I guess I’d better get going. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Lillian said. “See the Mason jar on the table between us?”
“Yes.”
“There’s the most wonderful honeysuckle vine growing along the hedgerow of that house up there by the highway. They’ve always let me clip whatever I wanted, but now I can’t get up there. I love the scent of honeysuckle in the spring and summer. Would you mind snapping off a few pieces of it and putting them in water for me when you come back by? There’s a pump around back.”
“I’d be happy to. Anything else?”
“Just come back and see me again.”
“I promise.”
She and Lillian said their goodbyes, and Anna made her way to the hedgerow at the house by the highway. What she saw in the side yard stopped her in her tracks. Seven girls—some about Anna’s age, some younger—were seated on quilts in front of a big cedar tree on the open lawn. They were wearing long, powder-yellow formal dresses, each girl holding a single large, white bloom. A tall, lanky young man with a big camera was taking their picture. The girls kept giggling and teasing him.
“Hurry up, Dougie, or we’ll all be memaws before you take the picture!”
“Do you move this slow when you’re rabbit huntin’, Doug? No wonder you’re so skinny!”
The young man took several pictures before the girls got up and took turns hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dougie! We owe you a big pitcher of lemonade.” They looked like something out of a picture show, and Anna was so fascinated by them that she forgot they could see her too—standing stock-still in the middle of the road, brazenly staring.
One of the girls had spotted her, and now they were all holding up their dresses and running toward her. Every one of them was barefoot. Though she was tempted to run herself, Anna knew that would make her look even more foolish than she already did. Before she had time to think about it, the girls had swarmed her and were peppering her with questions.
“What’s your name?”
“Did you just move here? I bet you’re from some big city up north.”
“Are you stayin’ at Dolly’s? We’re all kin.”
“You wanna come to the wedding?”
“Are you from New York City?”
“Mercy, let the poor girl breathe!” said a svelte brunette wearing pearl earrings. “I’m Alyce. And that’s June, Jo-Jo, Peggy, Margaret, Helen, and Kathleen. Here, have a magnolia—our way of sayin’ welcome.” She handed Anna the white bloom she was holding.
“Thank you,” Anna said with a smile. “My name’s Anna—Anna Williams. My husband and I just moved here from Illinois.”
“Husband,” Jo-Jo repeated, and all the girls erupted into giggles. “None of us has made it down the aisle yet,” she said, “but Alyce, Peggy, and Kathleen are engaged.”
“Are y’all stayin’ with Si and Dolly?” Alyce asked.
“Yes,” Anna said. “I’ve never seen a house like that.”
“Our mothers and Dolly are first cousins,” Alyce explained.
“One o’ these days, I’m gonna put on a weddin’ dress and walk down that big staircase with my veil flowin’ behind me and get married in Dolly’s front parlor,” Jo-Jo said.
“I feel like an idiot, staring the way I was,” Anna confessed.
“You Illinois girls don’t put on bridesmaids’ dresses and run around the yard barefoot?” Margaret asked with a grin.
“We’re all gonna be in a wedding next Saturday, so we decided to try on our dresses together and ask Doug—he’s another cousin—to take our picture,” Alyce told Anna. “You wanna come with us to the wedding? They’re havin’ cake and punch in the fellowship hall afterward—should be a lotta fun.”
“Thank you—really—but I don’t know anybody yet, and I’d feel a little out of place. I sure appreciate the invitation, though. It was nice to meet all of you.”
“You too!” Alyce said. “Come visit anytime. Kathleen and Margaret and me, we’re sisters and we live here. The rest o’ the girls live on around the loop, past Si and Dolly’s.”
“Thank you again,” Anna said. “Have fun at the wedding.”
A stern-looking older woman came onto the porch and called to the girls, “You all better get in here before you get grass stains all over those dresses!”
“Gotta run,” Jo-Jo said. “See you soon!”
Just like that, the seven girls disappeared in a swirl of yellow chiffon.
“Oh, wait!” Anna called. “You mind if I—”
She was too late—none of them heard her. But they didn’t strike her as the type of family who would deny an old woman sweet flowers that she could smell, even if she couldn’t see them.
Snapping the vines till she had a small bouquet, Anna thought about the bridesmaids in their yellow chiffon. Being the solitary outsider in such a tight circle of girls made her feel lonely. This was one of those times when she wished she were more like her mother. Presented with a spontaneous wedding invitation, Anna’s mother would’ve gone in a heartbeat—and had a grand time. But Anna took after her father. She would much rather have one close friend than twenty casual acquaintances, and she tended to move slowly in forging those bonds. With just one trusted friend—or Jesse—at her side, she could handle most anything, but she had never been any good on her own.
That’s one of many things she loved about marriage—being a partner and having one. Ever since she and Jesse were teenagers, she had gone anywhere with him because she loved him dearly and trusted him completely. But their hard times, specifically the way he had handled their troubles, made her doubt the union she had believed in for so long and desperately needed right now. She was hoping that this strange place might somehow bring back the familiar—that old sense of togetherness she had always cherished. It didn’t make much sense, but that was her hope.
By the time Anna returned to the little cottage, Lillian had gone back inside. Likely the late morning heat was too much for her. Anna took the Mason jar around back and hand-pumped some water into it. The honeysuckle looked pretty in the old jar. She tucked Alyce’s magnolia bloom into the sweet vines to make Lillian an extra fragrant bouquet. She could see that the backyard was too shady for grass and wondered why someone so old and frail didn’t prefer to sit back here where it was cool. But then she realized that the front porch brought Lillian visitors and company. She liked “having people around”—wasn’t that what she had said?
Anna placed the bouquet on Lillian’s porch and went on her way.
Back at Dolly’s, she stepped across the road to the lake. Already she was mimicking the Chandlers, calling a giant hole “the lake” when it had yet to see a drop of water. Stepping onto the deep porch, which ran all the way down one side of the skating rink, she looked out and imagined a glassy pool. From here she could see several high platforms, with ladders running down their sides, rising up from the lakebed—for sunbathers, no doubt. At the opposite end of the lake was a soaring platform and ladder at least ten feet above what would eventually be the surface of the water. A long boardwalk with benches and a couple of rope swings ran between the lake and a small gravel parking lot alongside the road. Music drifted out the windows of the skating rink.
“Well, Miss Anna, what do you think?”
She turned to see Si smiling at her. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What’s that?” She pointed to the high tower at the opposite end of the lake.
“I predict that’ll be the big draw. See, I’m gonna run me a trolley line from the top of that tower to that telephone pole right yonder at the corner of the skatin’ rink.” He pointed to a tall pole at the far edge of the porch.
“You mean people will climb that big tower and swing down?”
“Yep. And when they get to the middle o’ the lake, they can drop off into the water. Won’t that be fun?”
Anna frowned. “What if somebody chickens out and doesn’t let go?”
“I thought o’ that. Dolly rigged me up a first-aid kit that I keep behind the counter inside. Prob’ly need to add more bandages to it. Come on in and I’ll show you the rink.”
Glenn Miller was playing on the jukebox, but the skating rink was empty. “Soon as school lets out, the skatin’ rink’ll fill up,” Si explained. “Lotta the younger kids live close enough to walk. The teenagers all come on the weekends with their dates, but I ’magine the lake’ll bring ’em here all week long.”
“Well, I can’t wait to see it.”
Si glanced out the door, which he had left standing open. “Come on out here. There’s somebody I expect you’d like to meet.”
Following him onto the porch, Anna saw someone about her age walking toward them. She was carrying a tall, flat book of some sort.
“Hey yourself, Miss Daisy. Daisy Dupree, meet Anna Williams—just moved down here from Illinois with her husband, Jesse.”
Anna and Daisy exchanged hellos.
“I thought you ladies oughta meet on accounta you’ve both got green eyes, which I find a rarity. I figure you must be soul sisters—two green-eyed ladies from far-flung places landin’ right here on this loop together. You headed for the creek, Daisy?”
“Like always.”
“Mind takin’ Anna with you? She’d prob’ly like somebody younger than me to talk to.”
“Wanna come?” she asked Anna.
“Sure.” Anna followed her across the porch. Daisy was pretty. She had high cheekbones and ivory skin, and her caramel-brown hair was cut short, with fringy wisps around her face. She was wearing a short-sleeved cotton blouse with little flowers around the cuffs, and overalls rolled up above her ankles.
“Hope you’re not wearin’ your good shoes,” Daisy said to Anna as they stepped off the porch and began making their way down a narrow trail to the creek.
“I don’t have any,” Anna said.
Daisy stopped and turned to face her. “That bother you?” She looked genuinely concerned.
Anna thought it over. “It’s not the things themselves I miss. It’s just that, when I’m reminded of all the things I’m doing without, it makes me realize how much everything has changed—and that’s what makes me sad.”
Daisy nodded slowly. “I follow that.” She turned and led Anna a little farther down the trail to a quiet spot just out of sight of the lake. They sat down on a mossy carpet, with the shady canopy above so thick that Anna could catch only little glimpses of blue sky through all the green. Right here the creek was deep and cold, bubbling and sighing as it cascaded over rocks.
“You can’t wade here because it’s too deep,” Daisy explained, “but I just wanted to stop long enough to try and catch those wild lilies over yonder before they fade away. Then we can walk on to the shallows if you like.” She took an eraser and a small piece of charcoal out of her front pocket and opened what Anna now saw was a sketchbook.
“Are you an artist?”
“I ’magine there’s plenty o’ people would disagree. But I like to paint and draw.”
“Where did you learn how?” Anna asked as Daisy began sketching the lilies. But then she caught herself. “I should keep quiet while you’re working.”
“That’s okay,” Daisy said, keeping her eyes on the lilies. “I can talk and draw at the same time. Besides, I’d rather have comp’ny than a finished drawin’ today.”
“Why’s that?”
Daisy stopped sketching for a moment and turned to Anna. “Because exactly fourteen months ago . . . I got the telegram.”
As Anna’s hand flew to her mouth, Daisy resumed her drawing.
“Daisy, please forgive me. I’m so sorry I asked. I had no idea.”
Daisy reached over and laid a hand on Anna’s arm. “Don’t feel bad. I think I kinda wanted you to ask. Sorry I blurted it out like that. Charlie was a tail gunner. I’m mighty proud of him . . .” She shook her head and changed the subject. “Why don’t you tell me your story?” she said, sketching mirror images of the flowers she was studying.
Anna sighed. “It’s not a very happy one just now.”
“Lemme guess—farm girl.”
Anna nodded. “Jesse’s been struggling to save our farm for several years now, but we had to auction off everything except our house and barn and most of our land. He didn’t qualify for the draft—flatfeet—so we moved down here to be near the Army plants. Jesse got a job at the one in Childersburg. He’s hoping he can make enough money to get us going again when the war’s over.”
“If you don’t mind my sayin’, there’s an awful lotta Jesse in what was supposed to be your story.” Daisy added shadows to her drawing, which made the leaves on the lilies look touchable. She stopped to examine her work, then looked at Anna. “That how it’s always been?”
Anna shook her head. “No. We used to talk about everything and do everything together. But ever since our farm fell apart . . . I don’t know, it’s like he thinks it’s all his fault, and he has to fix it by himself. Until he can do that, I guess he plans to pretend I’m not there.”
“There’s a ring on his finger that says he’s got no right to do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean hard times ain’t a bit rougher on a man than a woman. Men just wanna feel like they’re carryin’ this big burden all alone and protectin’ you from everything. But they’re not. They’re just makin’ it harder on you by makin’ you feel lonely and useless. Charlie tried that nonsense on me right before he enlisted.”
“What did you do?”
Daisy smiled. “I took some o’ the money I had tucked back for an emergency and bought a bus ticket to Biloxi, down on the coast. Then I packed me a small suitcase. After supper one night, I went and got my suitcase outta the bedroom and asked Charlie if he would mind givin’ me a ride to the bus stop in town. You shoulda seen the look on his face! He turned snow-white.”
“Well, he went to stutterin’ and stammerin’ and wantin’ to know why on earth I needed to go to the bus stop. I showed him my ticket—which I knew I could cash in—and told him I was goin’ to Biloxi. And then I told him I already had me a job at the shipyards in Pascagoula. That was a big fat lie, but I was too fed up to worry about the particulars. ‘Why on earth?’ he wanted to know. That’s when I looked him in the eye and said, ‘Charlie Dupree, if you keep refusin’ to share your trials with me and makin’ me live alone for all intents and purposes, I can think o’ lots prettier places to do that than here on this Mississippi cotton farm. I’m gonna go live by the Gulf o’ Mexico. And you can just stay here and follow through with whatever plans you’re makin’ because they don’t seem to include me. Now hurry up—my bus leaves in an hour.’ Then I marched out the door with my suitcase.”
“What did he do?”
“He came stumblin’ outta the house and got in the truck. Drove me all the way to the bus stop in town. I have to say, I was gettin’ a little nervous because I only had ten dollars to my name if he let me go. But just as I was reachin’ into the back of the truck to get my suitcase, he stopped me and said, ‘If I tell you how bad it is and how ashamed I am, will you stay with me?’ And I said, ‘I believe that’s why they call it marriage.’ We took a drive together and ended up at the Delta Deluxe—that’s a burger joint back home. While we had cheeseburgers and Co-Colas, he told me we were fixin’ to lose everything if he didn’t enlist. He knew he’d be drafted sooner or later and wanted my blessin’ to sign up so he might start the money flowin’ and have some say in where he ended up.”
“And did you—give him your blessing, I mean?”
Daisy slowly nodded. “I told him I’d rather lose everything we had than lose him, and if he was doin’ this because he thought I couldn’t live without that ol’ farm, he was crazy. But I wouldn’t stand in his way if enlistin’ was what he really wanted.” She was quiet for a moment before she said, “What if I had stood in his way? What if I’d pitched a hissy fit and screamed and cried and begged him not to go? Maybe then he’d still be alive.”
“What-ifs are big sticks with which we smite ourselves,” Anna quoted. “That’s what my mother says.”
“Oh yeah? What else does Mama say?”
“That all we can do is the best we can do, and all we can see is what’s in front of us. So there’s no point in looking back and judging ourselves based on things we know now but didn’t know then. You were doing the best you knew how to do for Charlie at the time. You were helping him do something you thought was really important to him. That’s nothing to be sorry about.”
Daisy smiled, but then, in an instant, she burst into tears. Anna put her arms around her new friend and did the best thing she knew to do at the time. She let Daisy cry.