Destiny Lingers (24 page)

Chapter
Thirty

“B
ig girls don’t cry, big girls … don’t cry-yi-yi-yi, they don’t cry.”
Frankie Valli croons on the radio as I shower and change for the big prewedding party. It will be interesting to be there, not only to check out Missy, her sister, Sissy, and the rest of the McKay clan, but also because it wasn’t that long ago when blacks and Jews weren’t allowed in the Onslow County Country Club. So yes, this is going to be very interesting indeed, and I will be right there, representing change and Chase, as I check out the happy crowd.

I decide on a simple light-blue linen dress, a sweater, and flat sandals, since most parties at the country club are traditionally held on its rolling, perfectly manicured, azalea-lined grounds. I turn off the radio just as the disc jockey jokes that big girls may cry when a harsh rain blows in later today. He can’t be serious. There’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s a glorious day.

I grab Sissy’s gift and head off to her party, which turns out to be quite festive. Giddy girls donned in pastel sundresses and wide-brimmed sun hats are scattered throughout the luscious green grounds, chatting and laughing and oo-ing and ah-ing each other’s latest summer fashions and latest news. Other than the help, I am the only black person in the club. Something tells me that most of this crowd would probably like to keep it that way. I don’t know any of these ladies and while I may get an occasional smile, I still feel like an outsider. I receive a cool reception as I make my way through the sounds of their girly squeals and chitter-chatter.

I have slipped away to the bathroom to check my makeup, patience, and composure, when an elderly white woman walks out of the stall and asks me for a towel. When I politely explain to her that I don’t work at the country club, she asks if I might be related to “one of the nice colored helpers” who does.

“Your people do such a fine job here, you know,” the old lady insists. “Which one of ’em do you belong to?”

I want to strangle her. “Well, actually, I’m here for Sissy McKay’s prewedding party,” I inform her. “I’m a guest.”

“You don’t say?” The woman looks shocked. “Well, how in the world do you know Sissy?”

“I know Missy, actually.”

“Well, how in the world do you know her?” The nosey and persistent old lady squints at me.

“I met her through my one of my childhood friends,” I say, now feeling defensive.

“Who?” she presses on without shame.

“Chase. Chase McKenzie.”

“The Topsail police chief?” She steps back. “Well, man alive! He’s a nice fella, that Chase, and a good-lookin’ one too.”

I smile. “Yes, he’s a really nice guy.”

“I hear Missy and Chase may be the next ones walking down the aisle, if Miss Missy has her say,” the woman muses as she turns to peer into the mirror.

“Oh, my,” I say. “That’s a lot of weddings in one family. Well, have a nice day!” I quickly make my way out of the bathroom and back into the giddy crowd.

Under white canvas gazebos, dotting the vast and lush green grounds, the champagne flows and the gifts pile up on decorated tables, carefully organized by some of Sissy’s friends. The country club’s perfectly manicured lawn and sprawling gardens are some of the prettiest and most talked about in the area. The azaleas are particularly outstanding this time of year, as they are bursting in color, with hues of fuchsia, lilac, and pink. I spot Missy chatting it up with a group of girls across the way. She looks in my direction, notices me, and starts to head over.

“Well, I’m so glad you could make it!” Missy oozes as she saunters across the grounds toward me with a hand of welcome up in the air. “I’m
so
glad you’re ‘one of the girls’ today.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to be here, Missy. Everything looks so beautiful.”

“Well, I appreciate that. The workers here at the country club did a good job, but I was cracking the whip the whole time.” Missy laughs. I wonder if she also refers to them as “darkies,” like her mother.

“Ooo!” she suddenly exclaims. “Is that pretty gift for my Sissy?”

“Of course it is,” I say, handing over the goods.

“Oh, thank you so much, Destiny. I just know whatever it is, she’ll love this gift from you!”

“I hope so.” I feel uncomfortable talking to Missy, knowing her real story now.

“I’m so glad you came,” Missy gushes again and throws her blonde curls over her shoulder. She cocks her head to the side. “Chase just loves you, you know. He talks about you
all
the time.”

“Really?” I say. I am surprised by Missy’s admission.

“Yep. And I’m getting a little jealous,” she teases. “Destiny, Destiny, Destiny!” She rolls her eyes to the sky. “That’s all Chase talks about lately.”

I’m not sure where Missy is going with this, but she’s intent.

“You two seem to be happy,” I offer.

“You really think so?” Missy asks. “’Cause I wonder if I’m making Chase that happy, ya know? He’s just moving so dang slow, and hecky poo, I want a wedding! Now Destiny, you’re his friend. What does he say to you about me? What can we do to make him marry me? Tell me.”

“What makes you think you need to do any more than what you’re doing?”

Missy squinches up her nose and looks away. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t know. He’s just such a good catch—good-lookin’, powerful in a down-home sorta way, and he wears a uniform. I just love a man in uniform. I have to have him. I have to make him my husband.”

Missy looks so desperate that had I not heard the truth from her own mother’s mouth about her deceptive plot, I might have given the bitch a second chance. But now I see why Chase is so hesitant. He can sense game when he smells it.

“You can’t make anybody love you, Missy,” I tell her, because it’s true.

“Well, honey, I’mma do everything I can do. I’ll change his mind, you’ll see. And I might need your help, just between us girls.”

“Yes, of course,” I reply. “Just between us girls.”

I hope Missy can’t see my face burning from the inside out.

“Come on and meet my girls.” Missy takes me by the arm and escorts me toward her posse. “Y’all come on over here and meet Miss Destiny,” Missy calls out. “This is Chase’s friend I told y’all about.”

Missy then turns back to me with a big beauty-queen smile. I wonder what she told them. She begins her introductions, complete with a little morsel of information about each one of her girlfriends—from the ones she went to high school with, to where they held a job in town, to how many children they have. Some of the group I’d already met with Chase at the fish fry earlier this summer.

“How do you know Chase anyway?” one girl asks.

“From childhood—growing up on Topsail,” I reply.

“Oh, I see.” She looks taken aback. “You grew up in the
trailer
park
?”

“Funny. Chase has never mentioned you,” adds another.

“No, I grew up across the street from Chase in Ocean City.”

“Ah-h-h-h,” the girls express in unison and surprise, eyebrows raised. They don’t seem to know what else to say, since they were probably forbidden to venture into either neighborhood. So they stand there blinking at me with those fake smiles on their faces. I feel like a fish out of water.

“Ladies! Ladies!” A woman’s voice over the loud speakers grabs our attention. “Welcome to Sissy’s prewedding party! We are so glad y’all are here. Now, come on around ’cause we got some wonderful entertainment for y’all today.”

The pastel-painted crowd politely applauds and with delicate oohs and ahs, the ladies move toward the main gazebo, where the entertainment is about to begin. Missy walks to center stage and patiently waits for the crowd to settle down as she prepares to sing. Her accompanist is a tall and handsome man in a military uniform. He is a cadet. The smiling women whisper and point at the man whose back muscles seem to ripple underneath his uniform as he prepares his sheet music at the piano. Could this be her dashing cadet?

“Good afternoon, everybody,” Missy greets the crowd. “As most of you know, I’m Missy, and I’d like to dedicate this song to my sweet sister, Sissy, who is about to get married.”

The crowd claps, with some shouting woo-hoos and congratulations thrown in. Missy and the cadet begin their love song.

Love, soft as an easy c
hair

Love, fresh as the morning
air

One love that is shared by
two

I have found in
you …

I suddenly feel faint, as if I am watching this whole scene in an out-of-body experience. Everything seems so surreal. Is another truth playing itself out right here before my eyes? Is Missy, who is now singing to the handsome pianist, really the one destined to be with the man I love? Shouldn’t a song called “Evergreen” be sung for Chase and me?

Like a rose under the April
snow

I always knew our love would
grow

Love, ageless and everg
reen

Seldom seen by
two.

I watch Missy closely. She is making constant eye contact with the cadet, who is coyly smiling back at her as he plays his heart out on the piano. Doesn’t anyone else see that she is clearly not thinking about Chase right now? She is the imposter. Both Chase and I know it.

Time, we’ve learned to sail a
bove

Time, won’t change the meaning of one
love

Ageless and evergr
een …

The crowd bursts into applause as a teary-eyed Sissy runs across the stage to hug her sister.

“Thank you, thank you so much, Missy. I love you. I just love you so much. Wasn’t that wonderful, y’all?”

The gathering of women applauds.

“And let’s hear it for the handsome gentleman at the piano,” Missy announces. “First Officer Derrick Bradford.” The flock of infatuated females claps in adoration, each girl admiring the striking man in the military uniform, now standing and taking a bow.

“Nothing like a man in uniform, huh, y’all?” Missy playfully cajoles the crowd. “Thank you, Cadet Derrick, you played beautifully.”

The way these two smile at each other, I bet he’s played more than her piano.

“Please grab a glass of champagne as the waiters come around,” advises a round woman who has joined Missy, Sissy, and the cadet on the stage. It is the same round, red-faced woman from the store earlier today, who calls black people “darkies”—Missy and Sissy’s mom.

“It’s time to toast my Sissy!” she grins. “Oh, y’all, I’m so proud of my girls!” She squeezes each daughter on either side of her rotund body. The happy crowd applauds again for the girls as the two admire their gushing, teary-eyed mother.

Bile rises in my throat, so I reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter to wash it back down. The older man suddenly stops in his tracks and nearly spills his tray of flutes as he looks up in surprise to see me, his dark eyes shining through his even darker skin.

“Well, how you doin’ today, Miss Lady?” he politely asks.

“Fine, thank you,” I reply.

He chuckles slightly and then lowers his voice. “We don’t see too many of
us
’round here. Mighty nice to see
you
.”

I chuckle too. “I know what you mean, sir. I know just what you mean.”

The man smiles and moves on.

“All right, y’all. Everybody got your champagne?” Missy’s mother is holding up her flute. “I’d just like to toast my dear daughter Sissy. I am just thrilled about her upcoming marriage to a big ol’ real estate agent. Big Daddy Dean sure is happy. We say, ‘We got one sold off at the auction block; we’re working on number two!” The red-faced woman turns to smile at Missy, who is all smiles.

The women laugh in agreement and point at Missy, who blushes and mimics praying, “Please, please,” to the heavens. I make eye contact with the old black waiter standing at service in a corner in the back. He just shakes his head and looks down. So do I, as the guests continue to cheer on the McKay mess.

I have to get out of here, but just as I turn to walk away, I run smack dab into Mrs. McKenzie, Chase’s mother. She looks just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. It is the first time we have ever made eye contact. We both stand here blinking at each other, like two wide-eyed deer caught in headlights.

Mrs. McKenzie gives me a shy smile. Among those squealing rich girls, she seems out of place here in her simple cotton dress and her simple country manners. It’s the one thing that we have in common right now: we both seem out of place. She seems totally overwhelmed by this perky, preppy crowd.

“Hello,” she finally says.

“Hello, Mrs. McKenzie,” I reply. “It is nice to see you again.”

“Yes.” She nods and smiles a faint smile. She seems planted in the manicured grass, not knowing which way to turn, until Missy swoops down and wraps her long, toned, and tanned arms around Mrs. McKenzie’s red neck.

“Hey, Momma McKenzie.” Missy swoons over the woman she is plotting to make her mother-in-law. “Can I get you something? I see you’ve met Destiny.”