Eileen for recipes, others talked about ordinary Lawrence-ton happenings, others asked me about the wedding plans, and a few of the older ladies quizzed me about Martin and who “his people”
were.
As some of the guests were returning their empty plates to the sideboard, a very old lady came to sit in the chair beside me that my mother had temporarily vacated. She had wrinkles like cobwebs gridding her face, her eyes were the color of bleached denim, and her thinning hair was snowy. She was wearing one of those flowered dresses that were the staple of Lawrenceton fashion. This particular example was sky blue with pink flowers, and the lady who wore it was the same thickness all the way up and down. This was Mrs. Lyndower Dawson, christened Eunice, but since childhood called Neecy.
“How are you, Miss Neecy?” I asked.
“I get long pretty good, Aurora. As long as the Lord lets me, I want to get around on my own,” Neecy told me solemnly.
In Lawrenceton, we were a little worried about the Lord letting Miss Neecy get around, since she was still driving and tended to take the middle of the road and ignore little things like stop signs.
“Now, tell me something, Aurora,” Neecy said slowly, and I realized we were getting to the crux, here. “I hear that that young man of yours has bought you the so-called Julius house.”
“That’s right,” I said agreeably, tickled at Martin being my “young man” and curious about what she was going to tell me.
“They call it the Julius house, but of course it isn’t really.”
“Oh?”
“Of course not; those people just lived there a few months. It’s really the Zinsner house, they originally built it and lived in it for oh, sixty or sixty-five years before Sarah May sold it to those Juliuses.”
“Is that right?” Actually, I’d known that, but I didn’t want to dam Miss Neecy in midflow.
“Oh, yes, honey, the Zinsners were an old Lawrenceton family. They got here before my family, even. And the branch that built that house was the last of the family. They built out there when town was two and a half miles away on a poor dirt road, rather than a mile away on a paved one.”
I nodded encouragingly.
“I remember when they were building that house, John L. and Sarah May were fighting like cats and dogs about how to do it. John L. wanted things one way, Sarah May wanted ‘em another. Sarah May wanted a gazebo in the backyard, and John L. told her she’d have to build one with her own hands if she wanted it. Sarah May was one smart woman, but that she couldn’t do. But she had her own way about the porch. After the house was all but finished, she told John L. she had to have a front porch, a big one. Now John L. had already had the roof completed, and he didn’t want to tear it up again, so that’s why the roof of the porch is separate. John L. just put in guttering between the two parts. Then Sarah wanted a two-car garage instead of a one-car, and though they only had one car, John L. added another stall for another car. And then she wanted an extra closet, but John L. and her had a fight and he boarded it up to spite her!” Neecy shook her head as she remembered the battling Zinsners.
“They’re both gone now?” I asked gently.
“Gosh, no, someone as mean as Sarah May takes a long time to kill,” Neecy said cheerfully.
“She’s over in Peachtree Leisure Apartments, a nice name for that old folks’ home on Pike Street, where the old fire station used to be. I go to visit my friends out there from time to time, and I see Sarah May right often, though some days she doesn’t know me. And that woman is out there, too, come to think of it.”
“What woman do you mean, Miss Neecy?”
“That Julius woman’s mother. Got an Italian name. Toti-no. Melba Totino.”
I hadn’t known the family who’d built the house still had living members, and I hadn’t known The Mother-in-law (as she was invariably referred to in local legend) was still
were.
As some of the guests were returning their empty plates to the sideboard, a very old lady came to sit in the chair beside me that my mother had temporarily vacated. She had wrinkles like cobwebs gridding her face, her eyes were the color of bleached denim, and her thinning hair was snowy. She was wearing one of those flowered dresses that were the staple of Lawrenceton fashion. This particular example was sky blue with pink flowers, and the lady who wore it was the same thickness all the way up and down. This was Mrs. Lyndower Dawson, christened Eunice, but since childhood called Neecy.
“How are you, Miss Neecy?” I asked.
“I get long pretty good, Aurora. As long as the Lord lets me, I want to get around on my own,” Neecy told me solemnly.
In Lawrenceton, we were a little worried about the Lord letting Miss Neecy get around, since she was still driving and tended to take the middle of the road and ignore little things like stop signs.
“Now, tell me something, Aurora,” Neecy said slowly, and I realized we were getting to the crux, here. “I hear that that young man of yours has bought you the so-called Julius house.”
“That’s right,” I said agreeably, tickled at Martin being my “young man” and curious about what she was going to tell me.
“They call it the Julius house, but of course it isn’t really.”
“Oh?”
“Of course not; those people just lived there a few months. It’s really the Zinsner house, they originally built it and lived in it for oh, sixty or sixty-five years before Sarah May sold it to those Juliuses.”
“Is that right?” Actually, I’d known that, but I didn’t want to dam Miss Neecy in midflow.
“Oh, yes, honey, the Zinsners were an old Lawrenceton family. They got here before my family, even. And the branch that built that house was the last of the family. They built out there when town was two and a half miles away on a poor dirt road, rather than a mile away on a paved one.”
I nodded encouragingly.
“I remember when they were building that house, John L. and Sarah May were fighting like cats and dogs about how to do it. John L. wanted things one way, Sarah May wanted ‘em another. Sarah May wanted a gazebo in the backyard, and John L. told her she’d have to build one with her own hands if she wanted it. Sarah May was one smart woman, but that she couldn’t do. But she had her own way about the porch. After the house was all but finished, she told John L. she had to have a front porch, a big one. Now John L. had already had the roof completed, and he didn’t want to tear it up again, so that’s why the roof of the porch is separate. John L. just put in guttering between the two parts. Then Sarah wanted a two-car garage instead of a one-car, and though they only had one car, John L. added another stall for another car. And then she wanted an extra closet, but John L. and her had a fight and he boarded it up to spite her!” Neecy shook her head as she remembered the battling Zinsners.
“They’re both gone now?” I asked gently.
“Gosh, no, someone as mean as Sarah May takes a long time to kill,” Neecy said cheerfully.
“She’s over in Peachtree Leisure Apartments, a nice name for that old folks’ home on Pike Street, where the old fire station used to be. I go to visit my friends out there from time to time, and I see Sarah May right often, though some days she doesn’t know me. And that woman is out there, too, come to think of it.”
“What woman do you mean, Miss Neecy?”
“That Julius woman’s mother. Got an Italian name. Toti-no. Melba Totino.”
I hadn’t known the family who’d built the house still had living members, and I hadn’t known The Mother-in-law (as she was invariably referred to in local legend) was still
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