CHAPTER 25

“You’ll have to talk to Papa.”

His mouth fell open. Had he not expected her to say yes? “And if Papa gives me the okay?”

Alice-Ann pressed her lips together; Carlton’s taste remained on them. She nodded. “Yes, Carlton Hillis. I’ll marry you.”

Carlton wrapped his arms around her waist and he lifted her, twirling her in the thick night air, leaving her head spinning. When he stopped whooping and turning, he set her gently on her feet. It took a moment before she regained her footing, and Carlton leaned against his car once she had. “Okay,” he said between breaths. “Apparently I’ve got to get into shape if I’m going to get that house back to rights.”

Alice-Ann slid her arms around his shoulders and laid her head against the strength of his chest. “A cottage, really,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”

“I love you, Carlton.”

“Oh.” His voice quivered and he exhaled slowly. “I wish you knew how happy that makes me.”

She tilted her head to look at him, her heartbeat happily tap-tap-tapping along. Light from a half-moon fell between the branches and leaves of the trees, casting a warm glow over his face. Dear Lord, he was so handsome. What in the world did he want with a girl like her? “Does it?”

“More than I can say. I love you so much, Alice-Ann. You’re everything and then some to me.”

Her head returned to his chest and she waited. Listened. Around her the cicadas sang as they did each and every night, while beneath her right ear Carlton’s heart beat a new tune. One she’d never heard before —the rhythm of love.

Carlton planned to arrive at the farm after church for Sunday dinner the next day.

Alice-Ann stood in the foyer, expectantly. She glanced at her watch, then out the front window as he slammed the car door shut. “Papa,” she said, turning toward the living room, where her father and brother had settled in to listen to a few afternoon shows on the Zenith and read the newspaper.

“What is it, Alice-Ann?” He flipped a page of the Savannah Morning News.

“Carlton’s here.”

Papa folded the paper, cast it to his feet, and stood.

Nelson, who held the sports section, turned his face toward the front door. “What’s he doing here again?”

“Nelson,” Alice-Ann exclaimed.

Her brother laughed. “I only mean to say that it’s unusual.”

Irene’s footsteps tapped lightly on the staircase as she came down, having put the baby —plump and sleepy from lunch —down for his afternoon nap. “What’s unusual?” she asked.

Nelson met her at the base of the stairs. “Carlton is here again.”

She stopped three stairs up. “Oh, really?” Her grin in Alice-Ann’s direction only served to frustrate the intended target.

“He wants to talk to you, Papa,” Alice-Ann said, looking at her father.

Papa adjusted his trousers around his hips. “Does he now.”

Aunt Bess entered the foyer as Carlton knocked on the door. “Oh, dear,” Alice-Ann said, sorry that her entire family stood nearby as though they lay in wait. She waved her hands at them. “Shoo. Shoo. All of you.”

They returned to the living room as she slowly made her way to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, and twisted. She inhaled deeply upon seeing him. Gracious, but he was handsome!

Carlton still wore his church clothes. “Don’t you look spiffy,” she said.

He stepped over the threshold, looked beyond her to the living room, where, Alice-Ann prayed, the rest of the family had not gathered only to stare holes in them, then gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “So do you.”

She looked down. “I’m wearing a housedress, Carlton.” Aunt Bess had always insisted they change from their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes “lest you drop anything on them during Sunday dinner.”

His eyes captured hers. “Still, you’re beautiful.”

Alice-Ann thanked him with her eyes. “Papa is in the living room.”

“I know. I got my vision back, remember?”

She swatted him as she closed the door.

“Come on in; come on in,” Papa said, rising as though he’d only then noticed they had a visitor.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Carlton greeted him, hand extended for a shake. He exchanged another with Nelson.

“How ya doin’, boy?” Nelson asked him.

“Not bad,” Carlton answered. He smiled at Aunt Bess and Irene. “Ladies.”

“What brings you out our way?” Papa asked.

“I —uh —I’d like to have a word with you, if you don’t mind.” He glanced at Alice-Ann.

Papa nodded. “Man to man?”

“Yes, sir.”

Papa nodded again. “Thought that might be the case.” He jutted his chin toward the foyer. “Care to take a walk outside?”

Carlton exhaled. “Yes, sir. That’d be fine.”

Alice-Ann wondered which of her family members held the trophy for “most excited” about her upcoming nuptials, although a formal date hadn’t been set.

Aunt Bess had already started fluttering around, talking about cake recipes and dress patterns. “We can’t do it up like Claudette’s parents, but we’ll do it up just fine,” she told Alice-Ann on Sunday evening.

Alice-Ann assured her she didn’t want or need it “done up” like Claudette’s wedding.

Papa was pleased as punch. Over supper on Sunday night, he regaled the family with a play-by-play of Carlton’s request for “my daughter’s hand in marriage. A real gentleman, our boy Carlton is.”

Nelson shook his head a number of times, saying, “My little sister is marrying Carlton Hillis, and Carlton Hillis is buying her the little house on Main Street. Who would have ever thought it?” Leaving Alice-Ann to wonder if his comment had to do with the age difference or the fact that he thought Carlton too “uptown” for her. Then again, he’d married “uptown.”

Irene cornered her that night in her bedroom, asking her if she was sure about this.

“I am,” Alice-Ann told her. “I love him.”

Irene, who sat on the bed near the headboard, nuzzled her son, who lay sleeping in her arms. “Does this mean you’ve put childhood notions where they belong?”

Alice-Ann swallowed as she sat at the foot. “You mean about Mack?”

“Mm-hmm.”

The pain cut deep, but she told the sorrow to stay put. “I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Mack,” Alice-Ann confided. “But Mack is dead. I’ve accepted that. Carlton is a good man. A fine man. And —somehow —it’s like . . .” She shrugged. How could she honestly and truthfully relay her feelings about Carlton?

“Like you’ve been with him your whole life? And even if there’s another who could have easily swayed you, you’re wrapped in the notion that Carlton always was and always will be?”

Alice-Ann breathed out the relief she felt. Irene did understand. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I felt the same about Nelson when —” She brought her words to a halt.

“When?” Alice-Ann coaxed.

Irene’s blush covered her face and chest. She blinked once, long and slow. “When I fell in love with your brother. When I knew it was him and no one else. Could never be anyone else.”

Understanding washed over Alice-Ann. “There had been someone else?”

Irene nodded. “I often wondered if you knew.”

Alice-Ann shook her head. “How would I know?”

“Because it was —” Irene swallowed in discomfort. “Because at one time I thought —I mean . . . You don’t know about Mack and me?”

The room spun and Alice-Ann placed her hand on the mattress to steady herself. “What are you talking about, Irene?”

“Before Nelson and me —shortly before —Mack and I went out a few times.”

How could she have never known that? And why hadn’t it come up before? Not once, even nearly three years ago when Irene had teased about her feelings for Mack had she let on that —“You were in love with Mack?”

Irene drew Little Mack closer. “I thought so. But after —well, one afternoon Mack was supposed to pick me up and take me somewhere. I don’t even remember where, to tell you the truth.”

Could it possibly matter? “And?”

“He didn’t show. He sent your brother instead while he played a game of softball with his buddies.” She shook her head. “That was Mack for you. He’d always rather play games than live life.”

Alice-Ann sighed. “I get so tired of people saying that.”

Irene shrugged. “It’s true. He is what he is —or rather what he was.” She tilted her head. “I’m so sorry about Mack and, well, sometimes —if I’m being honest —I wonder if his carefree attitude cost him his life in the end.”

A tiny bubble of indignation rose inside her. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“I know. But it’s true. Nelson and I have talked about it. We both loved him dearly —one way or the other —but we at least could admit the kind of man he was.”

Alice-Ann didn’t want to talk about Mack’s lack of responsibility anymore. Somehow it didn’t seem right. “So then what happened?”

Irene laughed. “I was so mad. That much I remember. Mack and I had only gone out maybe three or four times, and as far as I was concerned, nothing and nobody should have come first over me.” She smiled, and in spite of being somewhat put out with her, Alice-Ann marveled at how lovely her sister-in-law truly was. Between her and Nelson’s good looks, Little Mack had no choice but to grow up a heartbreaker. “Anyway, Nelson took me to a matinee to make up for it. Afterward we went to the soda shop and then we went down to Brower’s Pond and went fishing.”

“Nelson took you fishing?”

She laughed lightly again, then looked at her son to make certain she’d not disturbed his slumber. “I caught three fish before he even got his hook baited.”

Try hard as she might not to, Alice-Ann laughed along with her. She couldn’t imagine a girl outfishing her brother.

“By the time Nelson took me home, I’d declared the date to be the best I’d ever been on. The next day I marched down to the drugstore, told Boyd MacKay he’d just messed up the best thing that had ever come into his life, and marched right out.” Irene kissed the tip of the baby’s nose. “Everyone thinks we named the baby after Mack because . . . well . . . but really, we credit Mack for bringing us together.” She sighed as she raised her large eyes to Alice-Ann’s. “I guess in a way, you can do the same. If you really mean it.”

Alice-Ann remained silent for a moment. Yes, she meant it, but the notion that finding Carlton came at the price of losing Mack —and Mack losing his life —was too much to think on. And certainly too much to be happy about. “I mean it,” she finally said.

“Good. Because marriage isn’t all hugs and kisses. There are tough times, too.”

“What do you mean? I’ve never heard you and Nelson say cross words to each other.”

Irene stood. “That’s just it. You’ve never heard.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “One of these days that brother of yours is going to build me my dream house. I’m so miffed you’ll get yours before I get mine.”

“Sorry,” Alice-Ann said, though she really wasn’t. If there was one thing she could say for Irene, it was that she had it plenty good in life. A dream house would require her to do all the cooking and cleaning.

Irene surprised her then by leaning over and kissing her cheek. “No, you’re not. And neither would I be if the shoes were reversed.” She straightened. “But thank you for that, anyway.”