Nash-Edgecombe Train Depot
Rocky Mount, North Carolina
December 7, 1931
Her deep, blue eyes shot through the
windows of the passenger cars, darting back and forth in search of
their target.
Walter felt the sweat beading into cold drops on his forehead just below his hairline. With his right hand, he wiped away the clammy moisture. He could not, however, alleviate the severe abdominal knotting caused by the sudden, unexpected sight of his beautiful, sassy, and sure-to-be-hellacious ex-fiancée.
Hell hath no fury . . .
He took two deep breaths.
I should have told her about Jessie.
“I wonder why she’s here with Billy,” Jessie said.
I should have told her about the engagement.
“Walter?”
Get hold of yourself, Walter.
“Walter!”
Keep your cool. Be friendly. Don’t ruin the end of your honeymoon, no matter what.
He motioned for Jessie to step off the train first. Then he stepped down onto the curb—right into the faces of his younger brother and ex-fiancée. “Brother Billy! Ellie! It’s great to see you both!”
“Welcome home, you lovebirds,” Billy shot back.
“Walter, I’m so happy for you.” Ellie threw her arms around him and gave him a big bear hug. Dressed to kill and looking as fine as ever, Ellie sported a well-fitting, red-and- black silk dress.
“And Jessie, congratulations. You have a great one.” Ellie released Walter and gave Jessie a much briefer congratulatory hug.
“Thank you,” Jesse said. “How sweet of you to come.”
What in the world is going on?
“Here, let me help you with your bags.”
“Thank you, little brother,” Walter said. “Don’t mind if I do.”
An uncharacteristic chattiness had beset Billy. Two sentences within thirty seconds. At least his rambling broke the awkwardness of this bizarre situation.
“We’re parked right over here.” Billy pointed to the far corner of the gravel parking lot as he led the foursome toward the Model A Ford.
“So. Did ya’ll have a good drive up here?” Walter asked.
“Let’s say it was exciting,” Ellie answered. “Your brother drives a bit faster than you.” She smiled at Billy, who smiled back. Then she winked at Walter.
“He’s always been kind of a reckless driver,” Walter fumbled for words to keep the conversation going.
“I hope you’ll let your reckless brother drive us at least one more place before we drop you off at your new home,” Ellie responded.
“And where is it that my reckless brother wishes to drive us?” he asked.
“Billy?” Ellie batted those irresistible blues at Billy as if she expected him to answer Walter’s question.
Poor Billy did not stand a chance if she had been blinking her eyes like that at him on the way up here.
“Billy?” Ellie again summoned his name.
“Oh, yeah. Uh, we’re going to the Carton House.”
Ellie whispered into Billy’s ear, “The Carleton House, Billy. Not Carton, but Carleton with an L.”
“Excuse me,” Billy said. “We’re going to the Carleton House to celebrate.”
“You sure you want to go there, little brother? I know it’s just around the corner, but the ticket’s pretty pricey.”
“Nonsense, Walter,” Ellie answered for Billy. “We want to celebrate and treat you and Jessie to a first class dinner in honor of your wedding.”
What’s with this we stuff? At least I know who’s picking up the tab—the Williams trust fund.
“That’s sweet,” added Jessie.
The foursome walked into the marble-floored parlor of the lavish old restaurant. A brilliant crystal chandelier hung overhead in the entrance of the dining establishment, the restaurant of choice for doctors, lawyers, and politicians in Nash, Edgecombe, and Wilson Counties. The Restaurant’s proprietor, Chet Borders, had been a fraternity brother of Ellie’s father, Jimmy Williams, years ago and remained friends with the Williams family.
As a result of the never-ending Williams family connections, the quartet got a personal escort to their secluded table by Mr. Borders himself, where a bottle of expensive champagne awaited them, chilled in a bucket of ice. As the brothers held chairs for the ladies to be seated, Borders wasted no time pouring the sparkling alcohol into the four glasses that had been preset.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I understand congratulations are in order,” Borders said.
“Congratulations indeed!” Ellie added. “Mr. Borders, I’d like to present the lovely newlyweds and good friends of mine, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Brewer.”
“Welcome to the Carleton House, Mr. and Mrs. Brewer. Over the years, we’ve had a number of newlyweds and honeymooners dine with us. And any friends of the Williams family in Plymouth are friends of ours.”
“Thank you for the hospitality,” Walter said. “We’ve heard great things about the restaurant.”
As the distinguished-looking restauranteur walked away, Ellie reached over and whispered something into Billy’s ear, who then spoke up.
“I’d like to propose a toast to my brother and my new sister-in-law.” With Billy’s toast, the clanking of four glasses converged over the center of the table, as Billy and Ellie followed with sizable swigs of the light bubbly stuff.
Both Walter and Jessie left their flutes untouched on the table.
“Oh, I hope we didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.” Ellie sneer-smiled. “I’d forgotten. Walter’s not much of a drinker.”
“That’s okay,” Billy interrupted with a chuckle. “Neither is Jessie, for that matter. If they don’t want it, I’ll be glad to help ‘em polish it off.”
“To that, I propose another toast,” Ellie said with a tinge of sarcastic enthusiasm. “To the newlyweds! May they forever be happy!” Billy and Ellie downed the rest of their champagne, while Walter and Jessie switched to their glasses of water.
Five minutes later, Ellie polished off glass number two and ordered a second bottle. Billy kept up with her, glass-for-glass.
Jessie glanced at Walter as Ellie half-slurred another announcement. “We’ve toasted the newlyweds. And now, I believe Billy has an announcement to make. Billy?”
“What’s the hurry? How ‘bout another drink first?” Billy smiled and gulped more champagne.
“At least we know who’s not driving home.” Walter’s half-joke fell flat before Billy and Ellie’s spirited drinkfest.
“Okay Billy, you should have had enough champagne to calm your nerves by now,” Ellie teased. “Let’s hear that announcement.”
“Uh, well.” Billy hesitated, looking sweaty across the forehead as he guzzled the remaining half a glass of champagne in one swoop. “Well, let me put it this way. Walter ain’t gonna be the only married Brewer brother.”
Walter saw Ellie cringe when Billy used the slang term ain’t.
“What do you mean by that?” Walter demanded, leaning forward and staring into the eyes of his baby brother.
“Well,” Billy muttered, pouring more champagne in his glass.
“Tell him, Billy.” Ellie smiled as she placed her hand on his and shot a glance of satisfaction at Walter.
“Well, okay. Me and Ellie.”
Ellie interrupted him midstream and whispered in his ear, “Ellie and I, Billy. It’s Ellie and I.”
“Oh, yeah, Ellie and I. Well, we’re gettin’ married!”
Walter felt every drop of blood drain from his face. He looked at the smirk on Ellie’s face, her big blues batting with obvious satisfaction as she looked at one brother, then the other.
“Congratulations,” Jessie broke the silence.
“Thank you Jessie,” Ellie shot back. “I’m so much looking forward to being part of the family.”
“When’s the big day?” Jessie continued.
“Saturday the nineteenth.”
“The nineteenth of what month?” Jessie asked.
“The nineteenth of December,” Ellie said.
“That’s right around the corner,” Jessie said.
“We know, Jessie. But when you know something’s right, there’s no point in wasting time. And for some reason, I always wanted to get married on the nineteenth. Just a silly thing, I guess,” Ellie said. “You know, my birthday’s on the nineteenth of August. But that fell on a Wednesday. And I hear that Wednesday’s not a good day to get married. So the next available Saturday the nineteenth is December, just two weeks away.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter what day you get married if you love each other,” Jessie observed.
“Ah yes . . . love.” Ellie took another drink of champagne. “Love is in the air, isn’t it? And speaking of love, we want you both in the wedding. We were going to get married at my church. I’m a member of Grace Episcopal in Plymouth. But unfortunately, Janie Morgan Outen is getting married that day. So we’re getting married at your church in Jamesville!”
“You’re getting married at First Christian in Jamesville?” Jessie asked.
“Yes, and won’t that just be sooooo convenient,” Ellie said with a smirk.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll step into the ladies’ room.” Jessie got up and walked away from the table, disappearing in the general vicinity of the ladies’ restroom.
“That’s a good idea,” Billy blurted. “I’m headed that direction too.”
Now, alone at the table with Ellie, Walter looked in her eyes and began a whispered interrogation. “I didn’t know you and Billy were dating.”
“We weren’t,” she snapped, “until you left on your honeymoon. Besides, I didn’t know you were getting married.”
“I’m sorry. I probably should have mentioned it to you.”
“Probably should have mentioned it to me? How nice of you to come to such an obtuse realization.”
“I . . .”
“We were engaged, Walter,” Ellie snapped.
“I . . . Well . . . We broke that off months ago.”
“We? Did you say we broke off the engagement?”
“Well . . .”
“Well, I’m just glad that we, after careful and mutual discussion and deliberation, came to this joint and rather well thought out decision. And I especially appreciate the input I was allowed on the matter.” She grabbed her full glass of champagne without looking at him. “Bottoms up.” Another gulp. “So in conclusion, it’s good to know that we—as you say—broke that off months ago.”
“Okay. Okay. So it could have been handled better.” Walter looked around. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “I’ll take responsibility for that, and I apologize. But what’s this engagement thing with Billy? You can’t be serious. You say you’ve only been seeing him a week?”
“Billy and I did make out by the tobacco barn once,” Ellie quipped. “Remember the time you caught us? That one time in the tobacco field, combined with a week of dating while you and sweetie were on your honeymoon, should be more than enough time on which to make a decision for a permanent relationship.”
“Ellie, stop being sarcastic. This is your future you’re talking about. And Billy’s too.”
“What’s the matter, the big brother newlywed getting jealous as soon as he gets back from his honeymoon?” Another swallow of alcohol.
“Of course, I’m not jealous.” Walter’s blood boiled hotter by the second. “But a week? Come on, Ellie. That’s not enough time to decide to get married.”
“You would know about short engagements, huh?”
“Ellie, that is uncalled for!” When several heads from adjacent tables turned in his direction, he resumed his refrained-but-strained whisper mode. “You and I both know Billy’s not your type. What are you going to do at the end of the day? Discuss Elizabethan literature? Or maybe you could take a cozy stroll around downtown Plymouth and chat about the Federalist Papers while you watch the lazy Roanoke roll by.” Walter felt like grabbing her flute and downing the rest himself. “You’d be bored with him in two weeks.” A gulp of water. “Who proposed to whom, anyway?” Another swig.
“Walter, of course Billy thinks he proposed.”
“He thinks he proposed? Like I don’t know you put the idea in his head. What are you trying to do, Ellie? Are you trying to marry Billy to punish me?”
“Now Walter, you know me better than that.”
“I know you all too well. And I know your favorite Shakespearean quote, Ellie.”
“About hell hath no wrath . . .”
“Like a woman’s fury,” he said. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Tisk, tisk, Walter. What’s it to you, anyway?” Ellie said. “You don’t care about me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“It’s not? Look at you now!”
“Just because I married Jessie doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“Walter, do you remember the last thing you said to me that day in June at your house?”
Walter paused for a moment. “About the rain check, right?”
“That’s right. You promised me a rain check, and then you disappeared without a word,” she muttered under her breath.
“I just apologized for that.”
“Let me put it this way. Let’s just say poor Billy is the rain check you promised me.”
“I don’t understand, Ellie. It sounds like you’re using Billy as some kind of pawn or something.”
“Moi? C’est ne pas possible, Monsieur.”
“Cut the French, Ellie. You’re half inebriated.”
“Inebriation seems the appropriate course of action under the circumstances, don’t you think?”
“Seriously, can you look me in the eyes and tell me you even love Billy?”
“Walter. We both know the answer to that question, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do. Which is why you should not marry him. It’s not fair to marry someone you don’t love.”
“Now Walter, I never actually admitted that I don’t love Billy, did I?”
“You admitted it without admitting it.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you want me in the family? Having me as your sister-in-law a little too close for comfort, big boy?”
“That’s not it. I just want . . .”
“Hello. I’m back.” Jessie had returned from the ladies’ room.
“Jessie!” Ellie’s tone changed from sarcasm to syrupy sweet, causing Walter’s stomach to turn. “Walter was expressing his congratulations,” she slurred. “You two need to mark your calendars for the nineteenth.”
Just then, Billy returned to the table. “Billy and I want you and Walter to serve as our best man and matron of honor. Isn’t that right, honey?”