Thirty-Six
Trudy
Thursday night, Bear Bryant Eve, felt more like Christmas Eve with the whole town packed into Lexington’s Department Store before the parade.
Trudy searched, resentfully, for a dress for tomorrow, certain if she weren’t Haskel’s fiancée, she would’ve never been invited to the exclusive reception for “civic dignitaries” before the football game in the first place.
Emily came to help but only had a few minutes because the parade lineup was in an hour.
“How about this one?” Emily held up a dress. “Blue’s great on you.”
Trudy remembered Dee Dee’s dress and shook her head. “Nothing blue.”
“How about this one?”
Trudy turned to see it. “What color is that?”
“Maroon?” Emily said. “Burgundy maybe?”
Trudy stroked the peplum dress of silk and velvet, shiny and dark, perfect for fall. Tiny iridescent glints of blue, pink, and orange glimmered in the tight, satiny weave.
“Try it on,” Emily said.
Marjorie Watkins had snuck up behind them; she’d worked at Lexington’s since Trudy and Emily were little.
Her hair had grayed and now she wore glasses, but her smile was the same.
“It looks stunning with this piece.” She held a brooch shaped like an autumn leaf.
“But I guess you Abernathy girls have all the jewelry you need, don’t you? ”
“Better not let Daddy catch you, Marjorie,” Emily teased.
“It’ll be our little secret,” Marjorie said with a wink. “I’ll take this to the fitting room for you, hon.” She wrapped her fingers around the dress and swept it away.
“I didn’t look at the price,” Trudy whispered.
“Quit it,” Emily said, stabbing a finger between Trudy’s shoulder blades. “We don’t have all day.”
In the fitting room, Trudy kicked off her flats, slipped off her skirt and sweater. A body foreign to her stood in the mirror. Had childbirth really aged her this much? Her breasts longed for perkier days. Her stretch marks looked like lines on a chalkboard somebody’d had trouble erasing.
Emily knocked. “Let’s see it!”
“Just a second.” Trudy fiddled with the puffed sleeves, which cinched just below her elbows.
The hemline angled from mid-thigh on the left to just below the knee on the right—a dramatic diagonal that showed off one leg like it had somewhere to be.
A floaty chiffon train draped from her left shoulder, trailing behind like a whisper.
The velvet bodice scooped just low enough—and just like that: a touch of cleavage—while the satiny sheath skirt hugged her hips with just the right amount of ambition.
She opened the door.
“Sister!” Emily’s chin dropped. “You look like Princess Diana!”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. Give it a twirl.”
Trudy spun around. The silk felt like metallic butter.
The maroon chiffon floated like spun sugar.
“I love it.” The flightiness of the moment, the quick hit of joy, felt good.
When was the last time she’d bought herself a beautiful dress like this?
It had been ages. But then she looked at the price.
“It’s too much.” She started fiddling with the zipper behind her.
Emily grabbed the price tag. “Ninety-six dollars.”
“And seventy-nine cents,” Trudy said. “We’ll find one cheaper.”
“Trudy!” Marjorie called. “Hon, I can give you the Veterans Day sale early if you keep it a secret. Twenty-five percent off!”
“We’ll take it!” Emily said.
At the register, Marjorie asked, “Cash, check, or credit, hon?” The Bailey Springs Beacon sat on Marjorie’s counter. brYANT TO SCOUT MOODY AT HOMECOMING GAME. In the photo, June Bug bared his teeth dodging a sack. In the picture beside that, Shug hollered from the sideline.
“Oh. Check, please.” Trudy pulled out her checkbook.
Emily picked up the Beacon . “Personally, I think he should clean up a little. What do you think Marjorie? Would you do the nasty with Shug Meechum?”
“Emily!” Trudy hollered as Marjorie giggled. “I’m so sorry Miss Marjorie. Emily is just—”
Emily tickled Trudy’s side. Trudy yelped and slapped her sister’s hand away. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re no fun.” Emily set the paper back down.
Marjorie whispered, “It’s a shame he’s leaving us.”
“Leaving?” they asked in unison.
“I don’t think anyone knows yet,” Marjorie said. “Everyone’s so whipped up about Bear Bryant. Apparently, Coach Meechum’s been offered a job in Tuscaloosa. Leaving after Christmas to be there in time for spring training.”
“ Shug Meechum?” Trudy asked, “is leaving?”
“S’what I heard.” Marjorie shrugged. “My cousin, Misti Dawn? Down in Tuscaloosa? Her husband works at the university. Said it’s all the buzz: they’re hiring Shug Meechum as assistant offensive coordinator. Y’all know what they say about coaches: the good ones never stay long.”
“Tick tock, says the clock.” Emily tapped her watch, raised her eyebrows at Trudy.
“Quit it.” Trudy rolled her eyes.
“What? I was talking about the parade .” But Trudy knew she was talking about Shug Meechum. The pang in her stomach hearing Shug was leaving surprised her. Perhaps, though, this was how it should be; with Shug out of the picture, she could focus on Haskel. But why hadn’t Shug told her?
The cheerleaders would ride right behind the Mighty Marching Bruins on the Bailey Springs Volunteer Fire Department’s truck.
On each side of the rig a sign read, 1982–83 Bruins Cheerleaders in orange and blue letters with paw prints made to look like a bruin had stepped in paint and walked across it.
Carter was finally sporting his matching uniform.
Dee Dee, Vangie, and Rejoice, however, as homecoming queen nominees, wore traditional antebellum dresses with hoop skirts and bonnets—Dee Dee’s bright yellow, Vangie’s lime green, Rejoice’s cornflower blue—and they carried matching lacy parasols.
They would ride at the end of the parade with the homecoming court on a crude replica of the old Bailey Springs Plantation made of chicken wire and tissue paper.
The three of them, with gigantic taffeta bows underneath their chins, looked like they were giving tours of a Civil War monument.
Dee Dee promised all the cheerleaders that it wasn’t important who was selected as queen; she, Vangie, and Rejoice would not be upset, and it would be “totally awesome no matter who won.” Trudy’s stomach roiled; she’d helped Miss Duffy count the votes and knew that Dee Dee had won by a landslide, even though she and Miss Duffy secretly fantasized about changing the outcome and shocking everyone.
They knew, however, that Barbara Beaumont would’ve demanded a recount and an audit within seconds.
“Remember your home-baked treats for tomorrow, y’all,” Dee Dee said. “With Bear Bryant coming, it’s imperative you break out your best recipes. Whatever it takes.”
Home-baked treats. Best recipes. Whatever it takes.
The idea smacked Trudy sideways, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it already. What if June Bug ate a love biscuit? He’d fall for Dee Dee again. All she needed to do was find a way to trick Dee Dee into giving love biscuits to June Bug.
Trudy watched, kneading the idea as each cheerleader held onto Volunteer Firefighter Rick Danley’s hand as he guided them to their seats and told them to watch out for branches on Pine Street.
Vangie gathered Dee Dee’s arm in hers and the two royal highnesses floated in their hoop skirts back to their rightful place in the back of the parade, parasols spinning behind them.
Carter and Faye giggled as Rejoice mimicked them, walking behind, overselling the elegance with her chin up and pinkies flared, swaying her hips dramatically, her own parasol high in the air.
On the sidewalk out in front of Dub’s Diamonds, Pete and Dub had staked their spots for catching candy on the curb.
Trudy—even though she’d been furious and had barely spoken to Leta Pearl since dinner with the Crumps—stood on the store’s front steps next to her, giving them a view over everyone’s heads.
She kept pondering how to get biscuits to June Bug.
B-R-U!
I-N-S!
Bruins! Bruins!
Are the best!
Carter cheered through his big orange megaphone while the girls’ pom-poms hissed. Periodically, Rick Danley sounded the siren, forcing everyone to plug their ears.
“Lord, if those girls’ skirts were any shorter”—Leta Pearl hollered through the siren—“we’d have to call the National Guard!”
Trudy rolled her eyes, her mind still combing through biscuit logistics—how to bring it up to her mother, and how to get them to June Bug.
Grand Marshal Verlaine Crump hollered, “Leta Pearl! Trudy! Over here!” She rode in a green convertible Ford Galaxie wearing a mink coat and gloves, and one of those fuzzy Russian hats, even though it was balmy and sixty-four degrees out.
“Lord, she must be sweating like a whore in church.” Leta Pearl said through her teeth as she smiled and waved.
Trudy could somehow swap Dee Dee’s treats with biscuits. Maybe she could offer to make all the girls treats, claim it was so they didn’t fall behind in their studying.
Mayor Leon Moody passed by in a convertible Cadillac tossing Now-and-Laters in between thumbs-ups and soldieresque salutes.
Pete waved hopeful arms. “Next year, when Haskel is the mayor, I think you should ride in the parade next to him, Trudy,” Leta Pearl said.
“Barbara Beaumont wouldn’t be able to stand it. ”
Trudy nodded. Maybe she could simply approach Dee Dee directly, offer the biscuits to her. No. Dee Dee would never agree to that.
“Trudy?” Leta Pearl said. “I know you’re angry, but you can’t give me the silent treatment forever.”
Trudy looked at her mother until Leta Pearl looked away. Then she touched her finger to her mother’s chin and turned her head back so that they were again eye to eye. “Then teach me how to make those biscuits.”
Leta Pearl ticked her head and squeezed her brows together. “What are you talking about?”