her,” he moaned. “She’s cuttin’ me off at the knees here.”
“It’s so great seeing you again, Miss DeLora,” I said, ignoring him. “You’re looking wonderful. I saw Amen last night, and she looks great, too.”
“I am proud as punch of that girl,” she said, beaming. “She’s the smartest one of the bunch.”
“Miss DeLora was telling me about her herb garden,” Elvia said.
“Y’all have to come out and see my place,” Miss DeLora said. “If the Lord Jesus brought down heaven to earth, I swear this’d be what it looked like. Why, Boone practically turned that little cabin into a mansion.”
“And there isn’t no one who deserves it more’n you for puttin’ up with us Littleton men for so long,” Emory said, bending down to kiss Miss DeLora’s cheek. “Ladies, I wish I could sit and chat, but I’ve got a zillion details to see to before the fund-raiser tonight.” He went over and kissed Elvia quickly on the mouth. “I’ll leave you in Benni’s capable hands. She’ll give you a tour of our town. Tomorrow I’ll take you around and correct all the lies she told you.”
“Eat dirt, Beauregard,” I said.
“You’ll regret those words, my dear Priscilla,” he said in a thick Southern drawl. He stood in front of the French doors and clasped a hand over his heart dramatically.“When they find my broken and maggot-filled body in a shallow Yankee grave.”
“I’ll name our firstborn after you, Beau, honey,” I answered to his retreating back. “Even if’n he wurn’t yours.”
“Beauregard and Priscilla?” Elvia said.
“An old game we used to play when we were kids,” I said. “We used to dress up in old clothes and act out skits. The attic in this house is unbelievable, trunks and trunks of old clothes. Some of them go back to the Civil War.”
“And they always left it in a mess,” Miss DeLora said. “A couple of little brats, they were.”
“Ah, Miss DeLora, haven’t we made up for our misspent youths now that we’re grown?”
“Hmph,” she said. “Ain’t enough time on this ole earth to make up for the mischief y’all used to get into. Y’all lucky I didn’t sweep you out with the fireplace ashes and leave you for the trashman.”
I grinned at Elvia. “Deep inside she knows we were good kids.”
“Only when you was takin’ naps,” she said. “Why, my Amen was a good girl until she hooked up with the likes of you and Emory and that doctor fella.”
I laughed and didn’t say anything. She obviously still didn’t know that half the time our escapades were thought up by her own darling Amen who had an imaginative mind and a bucketful of nerve from early on.
“So, are you ready for a tour of the town?” I asked Elvia.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
I gave Miss DeLora a quick hug. “See you tonight.”
We wound our way back through the fountain garden and headed downtown. While we circled the town square, I gave a running commentary about each place of business, its past and present owners, its place in Emory’s personal history. Sugartree looked entirely different this bright Monday morning with people shopping, bustling in and out of the courthouse for various official reasons, andbaggy-jeaned kids loitering on their way to school. Elvia and I stopped in at a half-dozen places where I introduced her and stayed to shoot the bull with people who’d known me since I was a girl. Of course, I couldn’t resist taking her to Beulah’s Beauty Barn and Elvis Emporium.
The pink-and-aqua shop with its old-fashioned bonnet hair dryers and faded pictures of Arkansas beauty queens going back to the fifties hadn’t changed one iota since the last time I’d seen it ten years ago. The colorful Elvis shrine next to the cash register still reigned supreme. In front of his gold-framed picture was a gallon pickle jar where the hand-printed sign said: “ MONEYS COLLECTED GO TO LOCAL CHILDREN ’ S CHARITIES BECAUSE ELVIS LOVED KIDS .”
Beulah herself
“It’s so great seeing you again, Miss DeLora,” I said, ignoring him. “You’re looking wonderful. I saw Amen last night, and she looks great, too.”
“I am proud as punch of that girl,” she said, beaming. “She’s the smartest one of the bunch.”
“Miss DeLora was telling me about her herb garden,” Elvia said.
“Y’all have to come out and see my place,” Miss DeLora said. “If the Lord Jesus brought down heaven to earth, I swear this’d be what it looked like. Why, Boone practically turned that little cabin into a mansion.”
“And there isn’t no one who deserves it more’n you for puttin’ up with us Littleton men for so long,” Emory said, bending down to kiss Miss DeLora’s cheek. “Ladies, I wish I could sit and chat, but I’ve got a zillion details to see to before the fund-raiser tonight.” He went over and kissed Elvia quickly on the mouth. “I’ll leave you in Benni’s capable hands. She’ll give you a tour of our town. Tomorrow I’ll take you around and correct all the lies she told you.”
“Eat dirt, Beauregard,” I said.
“You’ll regret those words, my dear Priscilla,” he said in a thick Southern drawl. He stood in front of the French doors and clasped a hand over his heart dramatically.“When they find my broken and maggot-filled body in a shallow Yankee grave.”
“I’ll name our firstborn after you, Beau, honey,” I answered to his retreating back. “Even if’n he wurn’t yours.”
“Beauregard and Priscilla?” Elvia said.
“An old game we used to play when we were kids,” I said. “We used to dress up in old clothes and act out skits. The attic in this house is unbelievable, trunks and trunks of old clothes. Some of them go back to the Civil War.”
“And they always left it in a mess,” Miss DeLora said. “A couple of little brats, they were.”
“Ah, Miss DeLora, haven’t we made up for our misspent youths now that we’re grown?”
“Hmph,” she said. “Ain’t enough time on this ole earth to make up for the mischief y’all used to get into. Y’all lucky I didn’t sweep you out with the fireplace ashes and leave you for the trashman.”
I grinned at Elvia. “Deep inside she knows we were good kids.”
“Only when you was takin’ naps,” she said. “Why, my Amen was a good girl until she hooked up with the likes of you and Emory and that doctor fella.”
I laughed and didn’t say anything. She obviously still didn’t know that half the time our escapades were thought up by her own darling Amen who had an imaginative mind and a bucketful of nerve from early on.
“So, are you ready for a tour of the town?” I asked Elvia.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
I gave Miss DeLora a quick hug. “See you tonight.”
We wound our way back through the fountain garden and headed downtown. While we circled the town square, I gave a running commentary about each place of business, its past and present owners, its place in Emory’s personal history. Sugartree looked entirely different this bright Monday morning with people shopping, bustling in and out of the courthouse for various official reasons, andbaggy-jeaned kids loitering on their way to school. Elvia and I stopped in at a half-dozen places where I introduced her and stayed to shoot the bull with people who’d known me since I was a girl. Of course, I couldn’t resist taking her to Beulah’s Beauty Barn and Elvis Emporium.
The pink-and-aqua shop with its old-fashioned bonnet hair dryers and faded pictures of Arkansas beauty queens going back to the fifties hadn’t changed one iota since the last time I’d seen it ten years ago. The colorful Elvis shrine next to the cash register still reigned supreme. In front of his gold-framed picture was a gallon pickle jar where the hand-printed sign said: “ MONEYS COLLECTED GO TO LOCAL CHILDREN ’ S CHARITIES BECAUSE ELVIS LOVED KIDS .”
Beulah herself
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