The Wedding Dress(28)

“She’s arrogant and rude. I don’t care to do business with her.” Emily turned Mother toward Newman’s. “I didn’t say one word that would disgrace you or Father. Or the Saltonstalls.”

“Your implications, along with the hammer of your footsteps down the stairs, spoke louder than any words, Emily. What have I taught you about wooden swearing?”

“Then I apologize to you, Mother. But that woman is not making my wedding dress.”

Mother stopped, pulling Emily to a halt with her. The flow of pedestrians parted around them. “You draw your lines in the sand after you’re married, my girl. That will be between you and Phillip, God help him, but as long as your father is paying for this wedding, you will wear a gown designed and sewn by Mrs. Caruthers.”

“Designed? She’s copying Goody’s patterns. She’s a fraud.”

“Your gown maker will be in all the papers and society columns from here to Atlanta and clear down to New Orleans and Miami. No doubt up to Philadelphia where the Saltonstalls hail from.” Mother jerked her hand to her head. “Mercy me, I forgot my hat, Emily. How could you let me forget my hat? You run on, I’ll meet you at Newman’s. Order me a corned beef sandwich with a cold glass of milk if you get seated right away.”

“What if they only have warm milk, Mother?” Emily teased with a sigh, forcing a smile at Mother. She didn’t like arguing with her. Mother could be her best advocate.

“There, dear girl. See, smiling takes away anger.” Mother placed her gloved hand against Emily’s cheek before turning back to Loveman’s. “Everything will be all right, Emily. You’ll see.”



Daniel

Daniel saw Emily go into Newman’s as he exited the barbershop, settling his new brown trilby with the silk band—quite nice for a former ballplayer—on his newly cut and slicked-back hair. The glint of the sun on Emily’s dark head as she passed between downtown Birmingham buildings reminded him of the coal coming out of Red Mountain—rich and sparkling.

At the street corner of 19th he hesitated, wondering how long she’d been in town. Wondering if she’d seen Phillip—if by chance she’d witnessed what he’d witnessed an hour ago. Pray God she did not.

Suddenly the street cleared. The trolley passed. The motorcars and horse-drawn buggies were out of sight. The air turned strangely silent. Daniel inhaled, stepped off the curb, and scurried to the other side of the wide thoroughfare.

Emily. She had a way of drawing him off course. Making him switch up his destiny when he had in mind where he was going and what he was doing.

First, baseball. Now the men’s department at Loveman’s. Devil may care. New trousers would have to wait.

He ducked into Newman’s, hanging back, hiding in the baritone hum of men lunching at the counter. The booths along one wall were stuffed with womenfolk, vibrant with their plume-trimmed hats and high voices.

Daniel eased down the center aisle, eyes darting over the hats, trying to gain glimpses of their faces. Emily came in alone, or so he believed. Ah, there, in the back, with her head bent over the menu. A harried waiter made a quick stop at her table. She looked up, smiled, and uttered a few words. The waiter nodded and marched toward the kitchen doors, a tub of dirty dishes in his hands.

“Good afternoon.” Daniel slid into the booth across from Emily.

Her brown eyes rested on his face. “Daniel.”

“You were expecting someone else?” He smiled, but not relaxed or at ease, not charming as he intended. His voice even wavered a smidge.

“Mother forgot her hat at Loveman’s. She will be here momentarily.”

“How are you?” Daniel scooted his hands across the table toward hers, wanting to take hold, but the cool light in her eyes forced him back. Instead, he twirled his trilby between his hands.

“I’m well. And you?” Emily lifted her menu, reading, and if he didn’t know better, hiding. “Have you been to the barber?”

“How’d you know?”

“You smell of flower water. Father and Phillip smell the same when they return from there.” She set her menu on the side of the table, then tucked her hands in her lap. “I see you’ve tamed your curls.”

“I don’t have a gal to mess them up.” He removed his hat, as he should’ve done when he entered. “I read in the paper you’re engaged to Saltonstall.”

“You sound surprised. I told you I would be.”

“Then I’m happy if you’re happy.” Was she? By her composure, he couldn’t tell. He attempted to read her eyes, but she wouldn’t give him one of her clear, direct gazes. Blazes, he hated the wall between them.

From the moment he said hello to her in the college library, there’d been a camaraderie between them. As if the marching music in their souls tapped out the same rhythm. But during his five-month absence, she’d changed her tune.

“I’m quite delirious.” She dusted her hands over the table, acting like a prim prude. “With happiness that is.”

“I don’t believe you.” There, straight and to the point. Then her ring caught his eye. Daniel sat back with a whistle. “He dropped a fancy penny on that thing.”

“He purchased it in Paris last fall.”

“Did he now? Certainly he didn’t have you in mind, because last fall you were strolling the quad with me.”