Julia Watts - Wedding Bell Blues

Lily looked Buzz in the eye. “And if they don’t?”

“If they don’t, then guess we’ll see ‘em in court.” Buzz glanced over at Big Ben, then looked back at Lily. “Let me put it to you this way, honey. When Big Ben and me played on the same team back in high school, we never lost a game.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Lily,” Big Ben said, as they got into Lily’s new ship of a car.

“Really?” She didn’t mean to sound snippy, but she still did.

“Uh-huh,” Big Ben said, “you’re thinking you and Benny Jack woulda fared better if you’d stayed in Atlanta and hired you some hot-shot lawyer.”

“Well,” Lily admitted, “when I look at Buzz Dobson, hot shot isn’t exactly a phrase that pops to mind.”

Big Ben laughed. “Well, I reckon not. The ole boy can’t even hit his mouth with his fork about half the time. But I’ll tell you this, Lily. He’s a fine feller, and he means well.”

Lily pulled out of the parking space and aimed her new tank in the direction of the Confederate Sock Mill. “I’ll try to bear that in mind when I lose custody of my daughter.”

To her surprise, Big Ben laughed. “She just don’t get it, does she, Benny Jack?”

Ben joined his father laughing. “She’s a city girl, Daddy. She’s not used to how things work in Faulkner County.”

“You see, Lily,” Big Ben intoned, “it don’t matter that Buzz Dobson barely graduated from a fourth-rate law school. We could hire a damn chimpanzee for a lawyer, and we’d still win. We’re McGillys, Lily. Me, Benny Jack, you and Mimi, we’re all part of the most powerful family in Faulkner County. And besides, me and Judge Sanders play golf together every Wednesday, and half the time I let him win. His son-in-law got himself in a spot of trouble a few years back, and I helped him out of it.

People in this county don’t forget names nor favors, Lily. There’s no way ole Jake Sanders would go against a McGilly.”

Lily pulled into the sock mill’s gravel parking lot. “I hope you’re right.”

Big Ben grinned. “Honey, in Faulkner County, I’m always right. I’m a McGilly.”

When Ben and Lily walked into the sock mill’s office, the clerical workers were abuzz, whispering

“here they come” and “won’t they be surprised.” One of them went to the restroom door and hollered,

“Jeanie! They’re here!”

“Just a second,” Jeanie called from behind the closed door. “We’ll be right out.”

“What’s going on?” Lily asked one of the office workers.

She smiled. “Let’s just say that somebody’s mamaw took her shopping.”

Jeanie opened the door, cooing, “Come on, let’s show Mama and Daddy.”

Mimi stood in the bathroom doorway, steadying herself against the door facing. She was wearing a cake-frosting-pink dress, the skirt of which was so tiered with stiff, lacy ruffles that the little girl was unable to lay her arms flat at her sides. Instead, she stood with her arms sticking out, like Mr. Potato Head. Her tiny feet were encased in stiff white patent-leather Mary Janes, and a lacy headband with a pink bow clued in anyone who might not yet have picked up on the fact that this was indeed a female child.

“So, what do you think?” Jeanie asked, beaming.

Lily started laughing — a more socially acceptable reaction than crying, which had been her other impulse. “She’s...she’s...a sight.” Mimi looked mad as hell, just like Charlotte used to look when she had to wear a dress and high heels.

“Good god, Mother, how much did you pay for all that crap?” Ben asked.

“Now, Benny Jack, don’t you say a word. A mamaw’s got to splurge on her only granddaughter a little bit. We just went over to the Little Princess shop in Callahan, and then after that we stopped at McDonald’s for a Happy Meal.” Jeanie scooped Mimi up in her arms. “And Lord, you shoulda seen this girl put away them Chicken McNuggets!”

“She’s...she’s never eaten meat before.” Lily had pledged to raise Mimi a vegetarian, at least until she got old enough to make her own dietary decisions.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Jeanie said. “She eat them Chicken McNuggets like she was going to the chair.”

It was so easy, Lily thought, to plan how you would raise your child — to say with absolute certainty the things you would and would not do. But once the child got exposed to outside influences, all those plans were shot to hell. “Well ... Mimi, I guess we’d better get you home for your nap. You’ve had quite a day.” She picked her daughter up. Her new dress must have added five pounds to her weight. Or maybe it was the Chicken McNuggets. “Thank you, Jeanie, for taking her shopping and ... taking care of her.”

As they walked out of the building, Ben said, “You look like you’ve been poleaxed.”

“I’m just overwhelmed. The house, the car ...” When she set Mimi in her car seat, Mimi’s lacy petticoat flew up high enough to obscure her little face. “And Mimi ... god ... leave her with your mother for two hours and...”

“She becomes a meat-eating femme fatale?”

Lily’s laugh gave way to an uneasy sigh. She leaned against the car. “Maybe having the Maycombs over for dinner will work things out. I just want this whole custody thing taken care of as soon as possible. It’s scary how fast stuff can change your life, y’know?” She wiped away a stray tear, missing Charlotte.

“I know.” Ben gave her a little pat before he headed to his car. “I’ll see you back at the house, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lily slid into the driver’s seat. “So Mimi-saurus,” she said, “how ’bout we go back to the house and take a nap?”

“No nap!” Mimi screamed from her car seat. “Go McDonald’s!”

CHAPTER 8

When Ben, Lily, and Mimi returned to the big McGilly house, a huge black animal was sprawled on the porch. “Oh, shit,” Ben swore. “Mordecai’s gotten out of his pen again.”

“Excuse me?” Lily said.

“The dog. Mother and Daddy’ve been keeping him in the pen out back since we got here. They were afraid he’d scare Mimi.”

Lily paused before opening the car door. “Is he dangerous?”

“He was when he was younger, but now he’s just old and cantankerous. He sleeps and farts most of the time. He’s always been good with kids, though, and if you call him by his name, he knows you’re friendly and won’t bother you.”

Just to be safe, Lily carried Mimi extra high on her hip when they reached the porch.

“Mordecai!” Ben called when they approached the door.

The rottweiler raised his huge head, glanced at Ben, and lowered it again.

“Cow!” Mimi exclaimed delightedly.

“He’s a doggie, sweetie,” Lily corrected her, “but he’s just about big enough to be a cow. His name’s Mordecai.”

At the sound of his name, Mordecai looked up at Lily and wagged his stumpy tail.

“Wow,” Ben said, unlocking the front door, “that’s the most energy I’ve seen him expend in years.”