The Pecan Man(11)

“How come?”

I thought about this a minute. It was a perfectly reasonable question and it had a perfectly reasonable answer. I was sure of it.

“Well, it’s important to meet the right people if you want to increase your business.”

“Can I have some more polish, please?” Danita spoke up from the other end of the table. She had finished her stack of serving pieces. The quiet ones always finish first, I’ve learned.

“‘May I have some more polish?’ is how you ask that question, Danita.”

I ignored the roll of eyes as I passed the jar of silver polish to ReNetta and nodded toward her twin sister. ReNetta held it out for Danita, but kept on with the conversation.

“So, you used the silverware to meet people?” ReNetta had a knack for making me feel ridiculous, although I’m certain that was not her intent. She was genuinely puzzled by the whole idea.

“Okay, Miss Nosy, enough with the questions. I’m going to tell you a story. You just listen and then, if you have any questions, I’ll be happy to try to answer them.”

“You gonna tell a story?” Danita perked up at her end.

“Mmm-hmm. That okay?”

“Is it one Grace can hear? She likes stories.” Danita was the more maternal twin, always thinking of her little sister and trying to include her in things. ReNetta didn’t intentionally leave anyone out. It was just that she was a bit single-minded by nature.

“Grace is more than welcome to listen, although it may be a little boring for her.”

Danita was out of her seat before I finished speaking. She dashed from the room nearly causing Blanche to drop the armload of linens she was bringing into the dining room.

“Whoa!” was all Blanche could manage.

“’Scuse me, Mama,” Danita threw over her shoulder. “I gotta get Grace. Miz Beckworth’s gonna tell us a story.”

Blanche raised an eyebrow at me. “They botherin’ you, Miz Ora?”

“Not a bit,” I replied honestly.

It was Blanche’s turn to snort before she turned around and headed back for the kitchen.

When Grace and Danita were settled back down at the table, I began to tell my story.

“I met Walter Beckworth in 1928, when I was home from college for my father’s funeral. Walter was new in the insurance business, but he had inherited my father’s account and was helping my mother with the paperwork to collect on Daddy’s life insurance policy. Daddy died unexpectedly and Mother had never dealt with paperwork of any kind before. Needless to say, she was a bit overwhelmed. Now, I was perfectly capable of helping her with it, but when I saw how kind and honest Walter was, I stepped back and let him handle everything for her. As a matter of fact, I remember pretending to be a little overwhelmed by it myself, just so Walter would show up more often. I think that’s when I knew Walter had the potential to be my husband. I’d never met a man who could make me feign ignorance when my intellect was my greatest pride.”

“You sure use a lot of big words, Miz Beckworth.” It was Grace’s turn to make me feel silly.

“Nothing wrong with using big words, Grace.”

“Except if you don’t understand ‘em.”

“Which ones didn’t you understand?”

“All of ‘em.”

“Perhaps I’d better get to the point, then.”

“Yeah, perhaps.”

Grace wrinkled her nose and grinned. She may not have understood the words I was using, but she sure did know how to tease an old lady.

“Grace!” Danita was horrified.

“Shhhh!” ReNetta just wanted to hear the story.

“Okay, where was I?”

“You met Mr. Beckworth and decided to marry him.” ReNetta was as concise as she was curious.

“It wasn’t exactly that fast, ReNetta. He courted me for a year before he asked me to marry him.”

“And when did you?” ReNetta asked. “Marry him, I mean.”

“Not right away. I finished college first.”

“Why’d you do that? Weren’t you just going to get married and live happily ever after?”

“Well, I certainly hoped so, but I did have the good sense to know that things could happen. My father was not old when he died, remember. I think that had the most to do with my finishing my degree. I could always teach if being a wife and mother didn’t work out.”

I hesitated then. Motherhood hadn’t worked out for me. My empty womb had made me doubt myself in ways I hadn’t imagined were possible. That was another story, however, and certainly not one for young children.

“You a mother, Miz Beckworth?” Leave it to ReNetta to leave no stone unturned.

“No, ReNetta, I was never blessed with children.”

“You didn’t have no babies at all?” Grace looked at me with innocent surprise. My stomach pinched into a tiny knot.

“Not a one.” I smiled feebly and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” was Grace’s reply.

“Me, too.” I took a deep breath. “But, we were talking about silverware, not children, weren’t we?”

Grace flopped her elbows onto the table and rested her face in both hands. It gave her a comical expression with her mouth pulled into a wide flat-lipped grin and her eyes twinkling behind three rolls of cheek pushed high on her face. I laughed out loud.