I lifted Baby Celeste as gracefully as I could. She moaned but didn't wake up. When we put her in her seat, her eyes snapped open and she gazed around, realized she was in the car, and smiled.
"Ride," she said, and clapped her hands.
"There, see, someone is happy today," Mama said, pointedly looking my way. "Someone
appreciates the great efforts I make for us all."
"I appreciate it I protested."We'll see. We'll see."
Off we went. It was so rare that I left the farm these days. As I sat and gazed out at the scenery, the homes and businesses we passed. I recalled how excited Noble used to be and how he longed so to be out in the world. His dream was to attend public school, to have lots of friends. His frustration, budding anger, and inconsolable misery had lured him down the dour pathway to his appointment with Death. Now that I thought about all that, it worried me that Mama hadn't understood, hadn't seen it all coming. She wasn't perfect after all. No one was perfect, except maybe Baby Celeste.
"I thought we would stop at Dave's drugstore today and visit with him awhile," Mama told me. "We're not being formal and all about announcing our engagement in the newspapers, but as you see"-- she held her hand out toward me -- "he has given me a ring and he's been telling the people he works with at the store and his regular customers, and you know how quickly news spreads around here. We'll be showing our faces at his store more and more often."
I couldn't hide my amazement at Mama's new out-going personality. Aside from the people who came to her for herbal remedies, our attorney-- Mr. Derward Lee NoklebyCook-- some school officials when I was in the homeschool program, and Mr. Bogart. Mama had little or no contact with people living in what we always thought of as the outside world. She didn't need them; she didn't want them. It had been like this since Daddy's death, and even when he was alive, she was never eager to socialize, invite people to dinner, or go to restaurants. I remembered how Daddy had complained about their not taking advantage of their increased wealth, not taking vacations, going on trips, or shopping more for us and themselves. Before his death, those arguments were occurring frequently. Why was she willing to be more sociable with Mr. Fletcher than she had been with Daddy?
Before we went to the drugstore-, we went to the mall. It was a Saturday so it was busy. What surprised me most was how many teenagers and young people were there simply to hang about and socialize. I stole looks at them, feeling like a visitor from Mars. Could they see something different in me? Like Noble. I was so interested in everything about them, the way they talked, touched each other, horsed around, laughed, and especially what the girls were wearing.
I'm sure it was just my imagination, but it seemed that everyone was looking at us no matter where we went. Mama seemed pleased about the attention, which was another thing that surprised me. She used to complain about the "gawking eyes of stupid people" who saw us as a curiosity and whispered behind our backs. She never smiled back at anyone, not the way she was doing now.
We ran into some of her herbal-remedy customers, and as she had predicted, the news of her engagement to Mr. Fletcher was already a headline on the front pages of gossip. I saw the way women like Mrs. Paris congratulated her, her eyes mainly on Baby Celeste, searching for resemblances to Mr, Fletcher. As we walked away, I looked back and saw Mrs. Paris, Mrs. Walker. and Miss Shamus with their heads together, their tongues wagging. There was no doubt about what they were speaking. However, when I looked at Mama, she was beaming. Not only didn't it bother her, but it was obviously what she had wanted.
We bought Baby Celeste a new pink-and-white dress with a frilly hem and collar, light blue socks, and matching shoes. Mama wanted her to wear it all right now, too. After that we went to one of the bigger department stores and she bought herself a light Vneck sweater, another skirt, another pair of shoes, and a silk scarf. Then she had me get some new pants, a few more shirts, and a pair of the newer sports shoes so I would "look more in style." The salesman remarked about how small my shoe size was. I looked at Mama, but she didn't change expression, even when he went to shoes for much younger boys.
Afterward, she paused at the window of a more upscale men's clothing store and decided we should look for a suit for me to wear at her wedding. I was nervous trying on jackets with a salesman hovering about me. but Mama kept him busy finding matching ties, a formal shirt, and some socks. In the end she decided on a dark blue suit and told the salesman she would handle the alterations herself.
Once that was all done, we had some lunch, and then, as she had promised, she drove to the drugstore where Mr. Fletcher worked as the pharmacist. He was behind the counter filling prescriptions, but as soon as we entered, the store manager came over to us to congratulate Mama. His name was Larry Jones and he was no more than thirty or so. I wondered how he knew who Mama was, but the moment we approached the drug counter. I discovered the answer. There in a silver frame was a picture of Mr. Fletcher and Mama, a picture taken on their overnight trip. They were in the rowboat and he had his arm around her shoulders. She had a red rose in her hair.
I looked at her to see if she was displeased, but she was happy to see it there.
"Sarah." Mr. Fletcher called out as soon as he saw us. He mumbled something to an assistant and quickly came around the counter.
In front of everyone, customers, salespeople, the manager, and me, he hugged Mama and kissed her on the cheek.
"What a wonderful surprise!" he declared loud enough for the whole store to hear. "Hi, Noble. And Celeste, Look how pretty you are:'
Mama deliberately handed her to him and he held her in his arms the way he would if he were truly her father.
"We just came from the mall. This is a new outfit," Mama told him. "She's beautiful." Mr. Fletcher said,
As if she had rehearsed her part well. Baby Celeste threw her arms about his neck and he laughed. The on-lookers now had no doubt that he was her father. Mama had pinned him to the bulletin board of scandal and rumor for all to see and prattle.
He reached onto the counter and got Baby Celeste a lollipop. Before he handed it to her. however, he checked with Mama. I thought she would say no for sure. We had no candy in our home and never had since Daddy 's death. Once again, she surprised me by nodding her approval.
After he unwrapped it for Baby Celeste and gave it to her, he glanced at me and then at Mama, his eyes urging her to move away from nosy onlookers. She sensed something was wrong. Her eyebrows lifted.
"What is it, Dave?"
"Betsy," he said softly, and handed Baby Celeste back to Mama.
She immediately put her down and told me to watch her while she and Mr. Fletcher walked to the side to talk in private. I wanted to watch them and try to listen in, but a saleslady came over and began to talk with Baby Celeste. She took her to the toy section so I had to follow.
A few minutes later I heard Mama say, "We have to be going now."
She was standing behind me. Mr. Fletcher had returned to the pharmacy counter. He waved to me and I waved back. Mama already had Baby Celeste in her arms and was heading out the door. The way she was marching with her shoulders stiff and her head high told me she was upset. She said nothing until we had the baby in her seat and had driven away from the drugstore.
"What was wrong?" I finally asked.
"Betsy is coming home tomorrow." Mama turned to me, her face flushed. "She's coming home to talk him out of selling their house and marrying me, not that she can. The little bitch." she spit. "No wonder she has so many worthless boyfriends. Every time she's with one long enough, he dumps her. Of all the selfish...."