“I promise I won’t.” Darla’s phone pinged, and she pulled it out of her purse and read the text. “Will is here and wondering where I am.”
“A woman can’t hide anywhere, can she?” Roxie grumbled. “Since these newfangled phones have come into our lives, we can’t even go to the bathroom and get away from the menfolk. It’s a cryin’ shame, but it’s the gospel truth.”
Darla typed in a quick reply and was starting to slip her phone back into her purse when it pinged again. This time the text was from Andy, her old boyfriend from high school: Be there in ten minutes. Can’t wait to see you.
Her breath caught in her chest at the very idea of both guys being in the same place. She was engaged to Will, and their wedding was just two weeks away. Andy had come back to town just last week. He had called her to say that he still loved her and asked if there was a chance they could get back together.
Roxie checked her reflection in the long mirror on the back of the ladies’ room door and fluffed up her short gray hair that she’d worn in a kinky ’do for the past forty years. “You’re right, Darla. I can’t tell whether I’m wearing a girdle and hose or not, so what’s the difference? Now we’d best get on back out there to the party. Will has sent two of those text things back-to-back. He’s needin’ to see his lady.”
I wish he’d sent both of them, Darla thought. Things would be simpler and less stressful if he had. She wanted to be married to Will. He was kind, funny, and so romantic, but wherever Andy went, there was excitement, and he wanted her to leave Tishomingo and go to Hollywood with him.
* * *
A rush of cool air met Will Jackson when he pushed open the door to the fellowship hall that afternoon. The first person he saw was Claud standing over in a corner with a group of his old domino buddies from down at the senior citizens’ center. Will stopped at the guest book and signed his name, then scanned the room for Darla. When he didn’t see her, he sent a text and got one back that said she would be there in a minute. While he waited, he angled over toward the old guys, who looked different in their khaki slacks and dress shirts. Usually they were wearing bibbed overalls or faded jeans.
“Will!” Claud motioned to him with a flick of his wrist. “Come on over here. We was just makin’ plans to do some fishin’ this week. You should join us Wednesday night. The women will be off takin’ care of weddin’ plans.”
Will shook his head. “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got a full day on Wednesday. Maybe next time. Where’s Miz Roxie and Darla?”
“Them women is holed up in the ladies’ room, primping I’d guess. They was both lookin’ mighty fine when we got here, but that’s women for you.” Claud poured two cups of punch and handed one to Will. “This would be better with a little shot of vodka in it, but Roxie would have my hide tacked to the smokehouse door if I spiked the punch at a church party.”
“Thank you.” Will took a sip. “Sixty years? What’s your secret?”
“No secret to it. You just keep workin’ at it because”—Claud nodded over to a couple of chairs in the back corner and lowered his voice as he headed toward them—“marriage is hard work, and you should know something very important, son. I like you, and I think you and Darla will be good together. But that marriage license is forever and ever, amen, like Randy Travis sings about. Once you buy it and they register it at the courthouse, you can’t undo it without a divorce.”
Will cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that.” Claud pursed his lips and adjusted his glasses. “It’s the gospel truth. I was raised up out in the sticks in northern Texas, and we had to buy huntin’ licenses and fishin’ licenses every single year. We didn’t have to get a driver’s license quite as often, but we did have to renew them, or else we’d get a ticket if the police caught us driving without one. So when I went to the courthouse and got a marriage license, I figured it was good for a year or maybe two.”
Will chuckled and sat down in one of the two folding chairs. “How old were you when you and Roxie got married?”
“She was just shy of her seventeenth birthday, but she had finished high school. I had just had my seventeenth birthday, but I quit school before the ninth grade,” Claud said. “My mama was a Bible-thumpin’ woman, and she didn’t believe in divorce. She told all ten of us boys that once we was married, then we weren’t living in her house, and that if we ever got a divorce, not to come home. I was more afraid of that woman than I was of bullets, red-haired women, and even the devil hisself.”
“What happened?” Will asked.
“Roxie was not an easy woman to live with, especially there at first.” Claud sighed. “So, after that first year, I took that marriage license to the Lamar County courthouse in Paris, Texas, and told them I didn’t want to renew the damned thing. I’d had enough of married life. That’s when they told me that I had to get a divorce if I wanted out of the marriage. There I was, betwixt a rock and a hard place. I didn’t want to be married, but I sure didn’t want one of them divorces, not when it would cause shame to fall on my mother. So, son, you be sure spending your life with my granddaughter is what you really want before you put your name on that piece of paper.”
“I’m sure.” Will grinned. “I’m in love with Darla.”
Claud’s brown eyes grew huge behind his glasses. “You be real sure it’s love and not lust. Back in my day, we got married because we weren’t supposed to do that lust stuff until after the hitchin’ took place. Girls who gave in to boys had a bad reputation, and my mama would never have let one of her boys marry a girl like that. So, it was kind of hard to figure out whether you were feelin’ lust or love.”
“Yes, sir, I will remember that.” Will bit his lip to keep from laughing. He was super relieved when he saw Roxie and Darla coming across the floor and started to stand up. “There’s our girls.”
“Yep, and they don’t look a damn bit different than when they went in that bathroom to primp. You remember what I said. Ain’t no use in gettin’ up yet. See them women about to huddle around our women? It’ll take a while for them to shake loose from them.”
Will settled back down in his chair. “What did you do when you found out the marriage license didn’t have an expiration date?”
“I went home, gathered up my fishin’ gear, and went to the Red River. I stayed there until I got tired of eatin’ catfish cooked over an open fire. I decided during those two days that Roxie made good biscuits, and her apple pie was the best in Texas, so maybe I could live with her until death parted us,” Claud answered.
“You went home?” Will asked.
The circle of women stepped away, and Roxie and Darla headed toward them.
“Yep, but what happened on the way home is a story for another day.” Claud stood up, winked over his shoulder at Will, and draped an arm around Roxie’s shoulders. “I see that our other two granddaughters have arrived, and they’ve brought the little urchin great-grands with them.”