20

Congratulations to Estelle and Hugh Craig who are celebrating their sixty-first wedding anniversary this week. There's no telling how many people Estelle has fed through the years, and Mr. Hugh is a friend to all. The Route Two scuttlebutt says the lovebirds are going on a fishing trip to Toledo Bend as soon as they get done babysitting their granddogs.

—The Green News-Item

I owe you a honeymoon," Chris said.

"I owe you a house," I said.

"Let's get on with our life."

"You won't get an argument out of me. I'm more than ready."

The Rabbits were having a winning season with what looked to my amateur eyes like inspired play from Anthony Cox.

The Item was making a profit, advertisers slowly coming back.

Nearly six months had passed since the day we became husband and wife and Green became Before Tornado and After Tornado. B.T. and A.T.

"I talked to the principal and I'm adding three days to fall break at the end of the month," he said. "I've called the airline and the lodge. We're going to Montana."

He picked me up and swung me around the little trailer, my feet knocking over a lamp.

"Oh, Chris, I'm so ready to get out of town."

I floated into work the next morning, looking like Tammy often did these days.

"Honeymoon. Me. Chris." I said as I jumped over the swinging door in the lobby, a patented Tammy move.

Within moments, Iris Jo, Linda, and Tammy were in my office.

"We've been working on an idea," Linda said.

"Oh, I just bet you have. How much money is this going to cost me?"

"We're making a little profit," Iris Jo said.

"Very little, as I recall."

"Let's have a redo of your wedding reception," Tammy said.

"And invite the entire town," Linda said.

"On the site of the old Grace Community Chapel," Iris said.

"A tent," Tammy said. "Hold on. I'll show you." She headed for the lobby.

"I know what a tent looks like."

"You said one time you'd always wanted a party with a big white tent," Iris Jo said.

I couldn't believe she remembered that.

"I have, but I'm not sure Green's ready for a party. This town has been through so much."

"That's precisely why Green needs a party," Linda, the most sober person I knew, said.

"No offense, but your wedding reception was not much fun," Tammy said. "You deserve a real one, where people sit in the chairs instead of dodge them."

I laughed despite myself. "Exactly when would this party be?"

"Right before your honeymoon," Iris said. "You love fall in Louisiana almost as much as you love spring."

Oh, she was right. Fall in Green was a blend of relief from the hot days of summer and a colorful spectacle, the light shining off the rust of cypress trees on the lake, coming through the yellows of sweet gums and bringing a complete change of attitude.

"Let me think about it, and see what Chris thinks."

"You're consulting Chris before you make a decision?" Tammy said. "You really are an old married couple now."

My first call was to Marti, happily married to a preacher in the making. "Please, please, please. You and Gary come down for a few days. It'll be much better weather than your July visit last year. You can see the Craig Meth Casa. I can get you the newlywed suite at the Lakeside Motel."

Next I called Kevin. "What are you doing the last Saturday in October?"

"Taking Asa to the park?"

"How about bringing Asa to my wedding reception do-over?"

"We're there," she said.

"Want to bring Terrence?"

"Don't push your luck."

Eva was in the command center at the courthouse, now down to two hours a week.

"I could use a party," she said when I broached the subject."May I bring Sugar Marie?"

"Of course. I'll bring Holly Beth. We'll let bygones be bygones. Bring Dub, too."

A pleased smile lit her face. "He'll be delighted."

I texted Katy. "U. Here. Last Sat. in Oct. Party. Me. Chris.Miss U."

"Can't wait. Miss U 2." She answered within a minute.

Next I tracked down Pastor Jean. "Will you say a few words?"

"Oh, Lois, I'd be honored."

Finally I caught up with Chris by phone after school.

"Our plane tickets are for that Saturday evening," he said."We'll be cutting it close."

"For me?" I asked.

"Consider it done," he said. "I've got to run. Faculty meeting today. Getting pressure from the state since the tornado.Love you."

"Love you back."

Bud came up with the idea that pleased me most. "October's the perfect time to plant trees," he said. "Let's give every guest a tree. We lost so many of our beautiful oaks."

"I'll coordinate the food," said Anna Grace, never far from Bud these days. "As the food writer, I have a little clout."

"You're a brave soul. My last reception nearly killed you."

My in-laws were over the top about the party, spending every one of our Saturday family breakfasts discussing it with military precision.

"Then what will happen?' Estelle would ask.

"Would we have the food before or after Pastor Jean's remarks?"

"What's with those guys?" I asked Chris as we headed out."They act like we're planning to invade a small country."

"They're probably scarred from our first reception, baby. It didn't exactly go as planned."

"Tornado season is over, right?" I asked.

"Yes, and you know what they say about lightning striking twice."

"That's not exactly the reassurance I hoped for," I said.

"I need reassurance on our house plans," Chris said. "What are you thinking?"

"That if you clear any more trees we'll be living in the middle of a field. Aren't you going a little overboard?"

"I talked to the sales guy about the prefab cottages. He says they need lots of room to get the trucks in."

My face fell. "You think that's the route we should go? Those houses have plastic that they try to make look like wood."

"I talked to that architect friend of Walt's in Shreveport. She says if we build, we'll need a larger area for a foundation. The trees had sort of grown around Helen's house."

"That's one of the things I loved about it. Like your grandparents' house. It looks like it was always there."

"We've agreed, haven't we, that the old house is too far out of town and out of our price range?"

"Yes. It's just that those old houses are . . . noble. Everything else looks bland when I remember what Aunt Helen gave me."

"Let's scrap the plastic house and build," he said. "It'll take longer, but it'll be worth it. Do you think you can live in the Meth Mobile for a year?"

"If I'm with you, I can live anywhere."

Marti wouldn't commit to the reception, a major disappointment since my brothers said they couldn't make a second trip to Green in a year.

"Can't or won't?" I asked.

"Let's say we'd rather have you and Chris come up here," the eldest said. "We don't exactly have fond memories of your new hometown."

"Seriously, Sis," my younger brother said, "it's too expensive to get our families down there for a weekend. We'd have to take the kids out of school. It's a logistics nightmare."

When Marti finally called me at the office a few days before the party, I was not surprised by her decision.

"We can't make it this weekend," Marti said.

I tried not to cry.

"Because we're here now," she said, stepping around the door with her cell phone up to her ear.

I dropped the phone and tackled her. Gary stood to the side.

"You came, you came, you came!" I screamed. "Iris, Tammy, Linda, Marti's here!"

"They set it up," Gary said, stepping around the door.

"Oh, Gary, you, too! Thank you for bringing Marti to our party."

"Bringing Marti? Wild horses couldn't have kept her away."

Saturday dawned cool and beautiful, and I awoke early, excited about the day ahead. Sitting in the swing with Holly in my lap, Chris still asleep, I thought about the spring morning of our wedding, a fresh morning, similar to this but with a different feel.

The past six months had felt endless when I was in the middle of them, but now it seemed as though they had zoomed by, the seasons changing as steadily as my life. Spring had been fresh, but fall felt . . . right. I loved being Chris's wife, and I knew we could make it through whatever storms came our way.

I left Chris a note and, with all of the dogs, walked to the church lot, the site of the party. The crew hammered and whizzed around, setting up the tent, tables, and chairs.

"The weather looking good?" I asked the foreman.

"Not a cloud in sight."

"Wind?"

"None. You picked the perfect day for a party."

"That's what I thought in March, too."

"Trust me. Even if a storm blows through, this tent isn't going anywhere."

"Don't even say that."

"What time are you starting?" a workman asked, hammering a spike into the ground.

"Eleven o'clock sharp. Wrapping up at three and going on my honeymoon."

Marti drove up in a small rented SUV as I stood there.

"You really are in Green," I said. "You had me convinced you wouldn't make it."

"So this is where you got married?"

"It has an airy feel, doesn't it?" I pointed at the slab where the church had been bulldozed. "Tammy calls it the highway of love."

"So the interchange will be over there?" Marti motioned to the corner.

"It feels different, doesn't it? It's weird with Chris's trailer moved and the parsonage turned into a construction office."

"But you have a nice buffer there," she said, "with all those trees. It's your own little corner of the world. Are you excited about building a house?"

I had known Marti for more than twenty years and knew when she was fishing. "Are you worried that I'm not happy?"

She looked startled. "You were so settled in Aunt Helen's house when Gary and I came last summer. I thought you might be having adjustment problems."

I looked around, as though someone might hear. "Don't tell Chris," I said, "but I fell in love with his grandparents' house.I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. I wish I had time to take you out there to see it."

"Why don't you move there?"

"It's a wreck and way too far out of town. When all was said and done, it wasn't practical."

"Moving to Green wasn't the most practical thing either, but look how it worked out."

"But I'm married now. My husband's a practical kind of guy."

"Men," she said with the look only a friend of decades could muster and gave me a huge hug. "Let's take you home and get you ready for the party."

Chris had left a note. "Gone to run an errand or two. Will pick Gary up. See you at the party."

"Isn't it weird how marriage changes you?" I asked. "I'm sort of disappointed Chris and I aren't getting ready together."

"Strange thing, love," Marti said. "After all those years, when we fell, we fell hard."

I slipped into the newest of Miss Barbara's original creations, a burnt-orange chiffon two-piece outfit that swirled when I moved.

"You look like an autumn leaf," Marti said. "Let's put your hair up in one of those perky topknots."

"I'll ride down to the church with you," I said. "Chris and I will have to come back here to get our suitcases before the trip."

"If I were you, I'd take my car, just in case."

"Just in case what?" My eyes got big. "There's not a storm in the forecast, is there?"

"You've got to calm down about this storm business. Take your car in case if we have to pick anything up at the last minute, that sort of thing." She kept looking at her watch and pulling at her short blonde hair the way she did when she was nervous.

"Is everything OK with you and Gary? You're acting strange."

"It feels like your wedding day. I'm a little nerved up. Let me get dressed and let's go down to the church."

By the time we arrived, Becca and two women from Grace were setting up the flowers, simple calla lilies in cylindrical vases on every table with a branch of bright leaves from nearby trees. The contrast between the formal lily and the tree limbs was stunning.

Bud and Anna Grace arrived early and were lining the gift trees up. A row of small clay pots decorated a table over to the side, a smaller tag tied around them with ribbon.

"What are these?" I asked, picking up one to inspect.

"Acorns, waiting to become mighty oaks," Bud said.

"They're from the most beautiful trees around town." Anna Grace patted Bud on the back. "Bud planted them, and I did the tags."

I looked closer and saw that the pots were grouped according to where the acorns came from—library, Methodist church, Green High courtyard. "May your love always grow," Anna Grace had written in her spidery old script. "In honor of Lois & Chris."

"When your children have children, these will be beautiful oaks, rooted in Green," she said.

I heard Marti sniff behind me, and she handed me a tissue."Just in case."

Hand in hand we strolled under the tent, my excitement growing by the moment. Tammy snapped setup pictures, although I didn't see Walt.

"He's probably coming later," Iris Jo said when I asked her about it.

Stan was helping set up for the music to be played by Pastor Jean's husband, Don, and Jolene, the niece of a church member. Someone was obviously going to play drums, too, although I had no idea who.

When the Mayor and Dub pulled in, Sugar Marie sailed out of the car and over to me, sniffing and then running back to Eva.

"I forgot Holly Beth," I said. "You were right, Marti. Good thing I brought my car."

"No," Marti yelled, so abruptly that I stepped back.

"Are you sure you're OK?"

"Let me get her for you. Your guests are arriving."

"She doesn't know you that well. It won't take five minutes."

I thought I saw Iris, Marti, and Pastor Jean exchange a look, but I headed for the house.

When I pulled up, I nearly screamed. Chris, Walt, and Gary were in the yard, driving wooden stakes and sticking small orange flags into the ground.

When they saw me, they jumped back, "guilty as sin," Tammy's favorite expression.

"You know it's time for the party, and you're not even dressed yet. Can't you do that when we get back from Montana?"

"Walt talked to his architect friend, and she had good ideas about where we might build the house," my sweaty husband said. "We're getting an idea of how it might look."

"Now?" I shrieked. "Now? Has anyone ever killed her husband before the honeymoon?"

"My bad," Chris said. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be meeting and greeting?"

"I forgot Holly. I promised Eva I'd bring her."

"I'll be right behind you," Chris said. "I'm headed to the shower right now."

He gave Walt and Gary a stricken look.

"Me, too," Tammy's husband said. "I've got my party clothes inside. Be right there."

"And me," Gary said. "Don't tell Marti, OK?"

"Remember your tie," I said with a disgusted sigh.

"Got it," Chris said, remarkably cheerful about the hated article of clothing.

I stalked back to the car with Holly Beth and drove off.When I looked in the rearview mirror, they were back to hammering the stakes.

I spotted my family immediately as I pulled back into the lot, my brothers shaking hands with the Craig men, and my sisters-in-law chatting with Jean and Iris as though they were the oldest of friends.

Tears gushed out of my eyes. No wonder Marti thought I'd need a tissue.

Our group hug lasted for minutes, and many of those around us clapped.

"Me, too, me, too," a high female squeal said, and Katy wrapped her arms around me. Although it had only been two months since I had seen her, she looked so . . . grown up.

As the hug broke up, Walt and Chris appeared, Chris wearing the new rust-colored striped tie and sticking closer to me than he had done at our wedding.

We wandered throughout the area, watching people load their plates with homemade food, ranging from Maria's chicken enchiladas to Stan's brisket to Tammy's creamed corn to Estelle's peanut-butter fudge and Mayor Eva's lemon squares, ordered from the country club.

The band played while the crowd visited and ate, a breeze wafting through the tent. Stan was the unknown drummer, and joined the trio to play amazingly good versions of "Mustang Sally" and "Blueberry Hill."

Jean walked to the stage, did a twirl with Don, and took the microphone.

"Surely we could not gather on this spot on this beautiful fall day without recalling words from the book of Ecclesiastes," Jean said. "There is, indeed, a time for everything. A time to plant these new trees to replace those that were uprooted. A time to weep, which we've done plenty of, and, today, a time to laugh."

A chorus of "amens" came forth.

Mr. Marcus eased his way to the front of the crowd, little Asa clinging to his hand. I glanced over to see Kevin standing by her mother . . . and Terrence. I briefly shot her a "what's up with that?" look, and she smiled and shrugged.

"Oh, Lord, our God," Marcus prayed, "we celebrate today the marriage of this man and woman who have shown their faith, their hope, and their love during these early months of their union. We ask for an outpouring of blessings upon them, and we thank you for the lives they've touched. Amen."

He handed the microphone to Mr. Sepulvado. "Ellos me rescató," he said. "They rescued me. They are special."

"Lois introduced me to my husband," Tammy yelled, putting fingers in her mouth to let out one of her whistles.

"And she introduced me to my wife," Walt said, planting a big kiss on Tammy.

The crowd yelled.

"Coach brought food to our house many times," Anthony said, clearing his throat as he spoke.

"He fixed my fence," one of the elderly women from the congregation said.

"Lois encouraged me when I decided to stay in Green for college," Molly said.

"And she didn't beat me up when I chose broadcast journalism," Katy shouted.

Our guests cheered more.

"They've made Route Two the kind of place anyone would want to call home," Iris Jo said, "and we're proud to call them neighbors."

At that moment the band struck up a modified version of "Sweet Home, Alabama," inserting the word Louisiana. Don directed the crowd to sing along, and the words "Sweet Home, Louisiana" rang through the air, time and again.

I scanned the crowd, some dancing, some singing, most talking; the Mayor and Dub, Kevin and Asa and Terrence, Pearl and Marcus, Iris Jo and Stan, Tammy and Walt, Katy and Molly, Linda and Rose, Marti and Gary, my brothers, and my new family, the Craigs. Holly Beth wiggled out of Eva's arms and ran to me.

My heart pounded, and I looked at the clear blue sky, the bluest I'd ever seen.

Chris squeezed my hand and looked over his shoulder again, and I noticed Hank and Doug standing near the corner, wearing fluorescent vests and holding walkie talkies.

Doug nodded directly at Chris, and slowly the crowd started moving toward Route Two, holding hands, chattering, the band playing "Sweet Home, Louisiana" again and again.The excitement was almost palpable.

"What's going on?" I asked Chris.

Suddenly from the paved two-lane road, a huge truck came into view, creeping along, followed by another one that looked almost identical.

"Somebody's moving a house during our party?" I asked.

I looked again. It was the old Craig house, cut down the middle.

"I hope you're up for a remodeling project, Lois Barker Craig." Chris grabbed my hand and led me onto the gravel road.

The trucks painstakingly made the wide turn, the crowd lining both sides of the road, clapping, Wayne and Bud and men from the church making sure no one got in the way.

"Let's guide her on home," my husband said. We walked in front of the house, which would be pieced back together, better than ever.

Right as we got to our lot, Mannix climbed over the fence, a move I'd not seen him make since he had lost his leg in the tornado. He ran out to us and barked, a sound not heard in months. Holly leapt out of my arms and flung herself at him, and they rolled around gleefully.

I was so thrilled that I felt like joining them.

Chris and I stepped into the yard, staked off where the big old house would sit.

I looked back at my cheering friends and family.

What had Mayor Eva called it that day back in the spring?

The glory of Green.