CHAPTER 36

TWO MONTHS LATER

DECEMBER 7, 1944

In November, as President Roosevelt won his fourth term, Alice-Ann and Carlton —not willing to wait for Maeve and Ernie to set a date —made a decision to marry on her birthday.

As soon as she made the announcement at work, Nancy exclaimed that “The Cottage” —as they’d come to officially call it —wouldn’t be ready. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to live over the five-and-dime. Trust me, honey, that’ll never do.”

Well, that much was true. Irene living in a large farmhouse with Nelson’s family was one thing. But a fairly small apartment? No. It wouldn’t do.

When she asked Carlton exactly which threshold he planned to carry her over, he nodded as though the idea of living with either of their families was out of the question. “I know Nelson and Irene have been living there with your daddy and Aunt Bess, but it’s a whole lot different when you’re the groom saying good night and then heading off to bed with a man’s daughter.”

That was another way of looking at it. One she’d not thought of. “Then should we postpone?”

Carlton coughed dramatically. “No.” Then he tugged on her earlobe and said, “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll figure out something.”

Sure enough, before Alice-Ann’s forehead could form a single worry line, Carlton paid a visit to Claudette and Johnny and secured a room for the two of them at Walker’s Inn. “They’re giving us a special rate,” Carlton declared. “Only fifteen a week. Johnny says they usually charge three twenty-five a night, so that’s a real fine deal, I think.”

Alice-Ann nearly swooned at the thought of such a kindness from her old friend. And the thought of herself and Carlton in one room. Alone. And for only fifteen dollars a week.

“That’s not a bad deal,” Papa said when she told him. Then he winked at her. “Of course I’d’ve only charged you twelve.”

“Papa,” Alice-Ann said with a laugh, even as heat filled her.

Still, even with most folks happy for them and thinking the Daileys had done some great thing, some of the church and the town’s ladies declared the two of them were rushing. But Alice-Ann and Carlton knew the truth —they’d waited long enough. And they’d gone through so much, both alone and together.

They’d been through a war and they’d survived it, their love intact. Their love stronger than before.

With so little time to plan —and a limited budget —there’d be no fancy flowers or attendants as there had been at Claudette and Johnny’s wedding. Alice-Ann and Carlton had both agreed —their love was enough. They needed only the ceremony, the love of their family and friends, and God’s blessings.

The day had come and Alice-Ann, all of nineteen years old, decades older than only three years before, sat on the tiny stool in front of her vanity mirror, Irene behind her, working almost professionally with her hair.

After Irene had drawn the thick waves into a chignon in the back and left tiny wisps of curls around her face and against the nape of her neck, Aunt Bess helped her slip into the dress. The material sent goose bumps against her flesh, falling over her body like a soft, cool sheet.

No longer feeling the need to find beauty in a jar, Alice-Ann applied only a tiny bit of makeup, then stepped into the new shoes her father had purchased at Lewen’s. She arched her back and squared her shoulders as she turned, then, to look in the mirror over her dresser.

“Beautiful,” Aunt Bess said. “My gracious, Alice, I declare you’re as pretty as your mama.”

Alice-Ann shook her head. “Not quite, Aunt Bess, but thank you.”

“I’ll be right back,” Irene said to the reflection meeting her in the mirror, then walked out of the room, leaving the door open. She returned a moment later, carrying a small wrapped box. “From Nelson and Little Mack and me.”

“Oh, Irene,” Alice-Ann whispered as she tore into it. Inside, a lacy blue handkerchief lay folded beneath tissue paper.

“You’ve got Aunt Bess’s dress for something borrowed. Carlton’s great-grandmother’s ring for something old. The shoes for something new. We thought you needed something blue to complete the tradition.”

Alice-Ann pulled the handkerchief from the box. “I’ll carry it with Mama’s Bible,” she said, then reached over to hug her sister-in-law. “I love you, Irene,” she said.

“I love you too.”

Aunt Bess dabbed at her eyes. “Come on, girls. Too much of this and we won’t make it to the church on time.” She cleared her throat. “Or I’ll turn into one large puddle and you’ll be forced to mop me up.”

The three women eased down the stairs, where they were met by the men of the family. Nelson grinned as he always did, then said, “Look at you . . .”

But Papa . . . Papa’s eyes grew misty. Then he cleared his throat and mumbled, “We better get a move on.”

Alice-Ann kissed his cheek. “And you most of all, Scarecrow.”

He cleared his throat again. “I don’t know what that means, Alice-Ann, but I’m sure it’s something.”

She brought her eyes to his. “It means I’m going to miss being your little girl, Papa.”

He huffed. “You’ll always be my little girl, Alice-Ann. Call yourself Branch or Hillis, but you’ll always be my baby.” He shook his head. “And you’re so beautiful. . . . I wish your mama . . .”

“She’ll be there in spirit, Brother,” Aunt Bess said quickly. “Now, I do believe Alice-Ann has a groom waitin’ and I see no reason to keep him like that.”

Alice-Ann took in a deep breath. “Papa, do you have Mama’s Bible?”

“It’s in the truck.”

She nodded. “Then it’s time to go, I reckon.”

A half hour later, her fingers worked the material of her father’s suit coat as he stepped beside her, the two of them marching down the aisle of Oak Grove Baptist Church, where the scents of years gone by and furniture polish on old pews wafted around them.

Alice-Ann had no need to look down. No need to worry about cracks in the sidewalk or even in her life. Her eyes focused on those of her groom, who’d smiled at her when she’d first stepped toward him, but whose face now broke apart in a wide grin.

She grinned back at him. She couldn’t help it. He made her so happy. So very, very happy. When she and Papa finally reached him, she sighed in relief, and even though she wanted desperately to slide into her groom’s arms, she stared straight ahead.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” her pastor asked.

“I do,” Papa said. The scent of his tobacco washed over her as he kissed her cheek, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to miss even that moment of this day.

Her father turned her toward Carlton, who mouthed, “Hey, doodlebug.”

She giggled. Blinked slowly. “Hey.”

“Do you,” Reverend Parker continued and she looked briefly at him, then turned back to her groom, “Carlton Alexander Hillis, take Alice-Ann Branch as your wedded wife . . . ?”

Carlton cocked a brow and Alice-Ann bit her bottom lip, hoping she didn’t smear the lipstick.

“To have and to hold . . . ?”

He nodded. Mouthed, “So beautiful.”

Alice-Ann felt the blush rush from her toes.

“. . . to love and to cherish, till death parts you, according to God’s holy ordinance?”

“I do,” Carlton said.

Reverend Parker repeated the vows for Alice-Ann, and her eyes never left Carlton’s.

“I do,” she said when her time had come to make the vow.

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you to be Mr. and Mrs. Carlton Hillis.”

Alice-Ann and Carlton turned to look at him.

“You may kiss your bride, Mr. Hillis,” the pastor said with a sly smile.

Again they looked at each other and she stepped into his arms, strong and protective. “I love you,” Carlton whispered, then pressed his lips against hers.

“And I love you,” she said against them after the kiss ended.

His embrace grew possessive and secure. “Truly?” he teased.

Alice-Ann sighed. He was so very, very her one true love. “Truly,” she said, and he kissed her again.