Riverbend Reunion(54)

“Would all the city council members raise their hands?” Jessica asked.

Not a single hand went up.

“I guess the council knows that we are outside the Riverbend city limits, and my lawyer assures me that we are within our rights to turn this building into a bar or whatever else we want it to be,” Jessica said. “Now, y’all can get on about your singing and praying.”

The wind rustled the leaves in the pecan trees at the end of the building and surrounding the parking lot, and carried the whine of a fiddle and the sound of a banjo around to the front yard. The tune was a fast bluegrass song that put Oscar to keeping time on the front porch with the heel of his boot.

“May I?” Wade asked as he reached for the microphone.

Risa put it in his hand.

“Y’all might want to sing really loud because we have a little show going on in the backyard that could drown out your music up here in the front of this building, and folks, that’s what it is—just an old building that hasn’t been used for a church in many years. It was a church, and now it’s going to be a bar and grill. Risa will be cooking for us, so if you ever want to come out for supper, you’re welcome. We haven’t decided on a menu yet, and it could change from night to night. We’ll be open at six and won’t close until two in the morning. Now you can get on with your singing and petition signing.” Wade handed the microphone back to Jessica.

Two older gentlemen left the group and meandered around the side of the building. Jessica and Wade followed them, leaving the crowd to sing their hymns, to drink lukewarm water and eat store-bought cookies if they didn’t think either or both would be committing a mortal sin. By the time they reached the back of the place, several folks were already having cookies, drinking cold soda pop or beer, and finding chairs. The first two old guys waved them over to where they were seated.

“This is pretty nice back here under the shade trees,” Amos Dailey said, “and if these cookies are any indication of what will be cooked in this place, then I’ll be coming out here to eat.”

“Me too,” Fred Johnston said, “and I might just buy a beer or a double shot of Jameson and do a little dancin’.”

“Why did you come out here tonight?” Wade asked.

Jessica suddenly recognized the two old fellows. They had aged in the past two decades, but she remembered they had owned the small grocery store in Riverbend. When she was a little girl, Amos would always give her a lollipop when she and her mother went in to buy a few items. He was tall and lanky and had lost what little hair he’d had way back when. His angular face had deep wrinkles, but his faded blue eyes twinkled when he smiled. Fred was short, and even rounder than he had been when Jessica left Riverbend. His plump baby face had few wrinkles, but his brown eyes were as full of life as his old business partner’s were.

“We wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” Fred popped open a can of beer. “Seems like Stella’s been awful busy stirring up crap, and we just wanted to see if it was true. I’m glad we did. Those girls are really good on that fiddle and banjo and these cookies are mouth-waterin’ good.”

“And now we know that it is true, but we don’t care what Stella says.” Amos pushed up out of his chair and went to the table to get another handful of cookies. “But we wasn’t expecting to have cold beer, good food, and entertainment. Hell, Wade, I ain’t puttin’ my name on that petition. This is fun.”

“Me neither,” Fred declared, “but it’s a silly idea that Stella has cooked up anyway. I say it’s a good idea to use this building for something. It’s just going to sit here and rot away to nothing if you don’t.”

“Thank you.” Jessica picked up a platter of cookies and began to move among the crowd that continued to grow with every song the twins played.

Wade followed behind her, stopping to talk to folks and inviting them to get something cold to drink, pull up a chair, and enjoy the music.

When Jessica’s platter was empty, she went back to the kitchen to refill it and found Wade standing at the sink with a beer in his hand. “I had to come see how things were going out front. I can see everything from here.”

Jessica joined him at the window and was amazed to find that there were only about ten people out there in the parking lot, and not a one of them was singing.



Risa had brought a chair out from inside the church and sat down at the end of the refreshment table. She would far rather have been out in the backyard listening to her girls play, but since no one was singing in the parking lot, she could hear the music just fine. She hoped that her mother and the remaining people saw her as being as cool as a cucumber, but on the inside, her stomach was a ball of nerves. They made it through two hymns, and then Stella glared at her and turned to say something to one of the few folks left to support her.

No one had stepped forward to add their name to Stella’s on the petition. The wind swept the pen onto the ground, and the paper curled up around the wooden cross. A piece tore off and floated out across the parking lot.

Risa had to remember the bitterness in Stella’s voice and the hatefulness in her actions when she had spoken to Lily and Daisy to keep from feeling sorry for her mother. Seeing all the friends she had thought would back her leaving one by one for the backyard, then watching the wind blow away the top of the petition—the very part that had her name on it—had to be tough.