The Wedding Dress(96)

“We were kids in school together. Oh, Charlotte, you should’ve seen him.” Mary Grace’s vigor and energy wasn’t absent in her tale. “So strong and handsome with this crazy mop of curls. He could outrun all the boys.”

“Because there was some grown-up chasing us with a switch, I tell you.” Thomas opened one eye and winked at Charlotte.

“Tommy, now, be serious.”

“It’s a good thing I was a fast runner, or I’d never’ve caught you, Gracie.”

“Mercy, listen to you, I was standing flat-foot still, waiting.” She gazed at Charlotte. “Fifteen years I waited, but he was worth it. I was twenty-one when he finally proposed.”

“I’d done sowed all my wild oats. The feed bag and my heart were empty.”

“Thomas’s best friend drowned in the Black Warrior River, you see?”

“The day we graduated from the university, ole Cap, Fido, and I—we called him Fido ’cause he looked like a bulldog and was as tough as one too—we went up to the river, took to drinking as fraternity men often did, even in those days. The water was swollen over the banks from spring rains, but we thought we’d beat Mother Nature and take out Cap’s daddy’s fishing boat at midnight. Such foolish boys . . .”

“Cap fell overboard and was lost, Charlotte,” Mary Grace said, low, like a whisper.

“It was my come-to-Jesus meeting right then and there.”

“Thomas, that must have been so difficult.” Charlotte noticed his dry lips and went to get him a glass of water, collecting dishes along the way.

“Thomas decided to go to seminary.”

“But not alone. No sir, I was going to take the prettiest girl God ever created. I knew she could handle me and the ministry. She stood by me during the afterward of Cap’s death. When the police investigated. When my daddy was so angry with my foolishness he couldn’t speak to me for days. Mary Grace was the one whispering prayers over me. How could I go wrong with a woman like Gracie?”

Charlotte set the glass of water on Thomas’s table.

“So he proposed. And I said yes.” Mary Grace rocked in her chair, a serene, peaceful expression on her face. “My mother didn’t want to waste money on a wedding dress. My father worked for the Coca-Cola company and we needed every penny of his paycheck to make ends meet. He was kindhearted, but gruff. Liked his whiskey, you know. So Mother insisted I get a nice practical suit for my wedding. There was a depression on, you know, and a nice suit would go a long way for a seminarian’s wife.”

Thomas reached for the water glass Charlotte had set beside him. His hand trembled as he slowly brought it to his lips. “But Mary Grace had been dreaming of her wedding for a long time.”

“And I didn’t want to get married in a dress that would suit a funeral either.”

Charlotte smiled. Relaxed. Kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her on her chair. She loved this story. So much better than the one Tim told her the other day about Colby Ludlow being her father.

“I worked as a shopgirl at Loveman’s and had some money saved, but it was going to linens and household things. Mama was not letting me squander one red penny. But you know, one afternoon I was working and Mrs. Ludlow—”

“Emily Ludlow?” Charlotte said.

“One and the same. She came into the store and stopped at my counter. She was one of my best customers. Her husband had just taken over her father’s financial business, and she was always seeking to do good in the Magic City. Such a good, good woman. She’d heard I was engaged and don’t you know, she offered me her dress. Bold as you please, I said yes.”

“But her mama’s Irish pride just about ruined the whole thing. She’d have none of it,” Thomas said. “None, I say.”





Chapter Twenty-Four



Mary Grace





Birmingham, 1939





The moon rested on the crest of Red Mountain as Mary Grace snuck out to the front porch, away from the window of Mama and Daddy’s bedroom, where they argued.

She curled up on the porch swing, pillowing her head against the chain links.

Mama’s voice seeped through the thin windowpane. “I’ll not kowtow to that woman. Emily Ludlow coming into Loveman’s and filling Mary Grace’s head with dreams of a wedding dress. Offering to give our daughter, our daughter, Clem, a wedding dress, her used wedding dress.”

“I suspect Mary Grace already had dreams of her own about a wedding dress. And what’s the harm of Mrs. Ludlow showing us some charity?”

“We are not charity. That’s the harm. We work hard, we provide for our family, and we may not have all the Cantons and Ludlows have, but we have more than enough. Thank you and praise Jesus. Life isn’t dreams and fairy tales. Mary Grace will do well to remember she’s marrying a minister. She’ll look lovely getting married in a nice, serviceable suit.”

“You had a wedding dress, Vie.”

“And Mary Grace could have worn it for her own wedding, but we all know that’s not going to happen now, don’t we?”

Mary Grace closed her eyes as the bedroom door slammed, shaking the entire house, setting the swing in motion. The floorboard moaned and creaked under Daddy’s heavy footsteps as he crossed the living room.