The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder (25 page)

I looked at him. “No.” I smiled. “You’re jumping just far enough.”

T
here was a spot uptown where Sweet and I loved to walk when he was in town. Between the river levee and the river itself, there was a crescent-shaped plot of land with no trees or buildings on it, called “the Butterfly.” Most of it was covered with playing fields for intramural sports. There was also a dock for excursion boats bringing passengers to the zoo. The shape of the pavilion on that dock gave that land its name.

Sweet and I both loved the Mississippi, and we went to the Butterfly because the river makes a crescent bend there, so it’s a dramatic place to watch ships go by. You can sit in one spot and watch a ship for more than three-quarters of a mile as it turns with the river.

One day, after we’d been dating six months, Sweet said, “Calla, how about we take the excursion boat today?”

Though it was winter, it was a beautiful day, so I said, “All right, honey.”

We got on the boat, and when we were out in the river, Sweet pulled out a little pair of binoculars, which he handed to me. Then he started pointing out ships and barges, telling me what they were carrying and where they came from. Then he said, “Oh, look at those two tugboats.”

I did, and I saw the cutest thing. One of the tugboats had a banner along its side reading, “Will You Mary Me?”

I told Sweet, “Oh, look at that poor guy! He misspelled ‘Marry.’ Either that, or the girl he’s asking is
named
Mary, in which case—”

Sweet grabbed the binoculars from me, pressed them to his eyes, and said, “Damnit, Jimbo!” He gave me back the binoculars, and I looked out at the tug again and laughed. When I looked back at him, Sweet was down on one knee, with one hand over his heart and the other holding a little green velvet ring box.

Time stood still as I struggled to understand what I was seeing. Then it sunk in, and I started laughing my head off again. I couldn’t help myself and I couldn’t stop, much as I hated to ruin the moment for Sweet. He looked confused and maybe even hurt, but then he broke out laughing too. Everyone around us on the boat started clapping and hollering. Finally I caught my breath long enough to say, “Yes, my Sweet! I do, I do!”

One lovely evening a few weeks later, we’d just finished a supper of red snapper and salad, and we were sitting on the sofa together.

I said, “Sweet, I’m a little nervous to say this out loud, but I have this—it’s not a plan, it’s a dream, really. After I’ve had enough training, and after I feel like my hands really can handle almost anything that would come up in the beauty business, I want to go back to La Luna. M’Dear always said if I wanted to come back, I could transform her little Crowning Glory into whatever I want, and I have ideas. I want to invite people who have the hardest hair to come to me, and I’ll repair it. And I want people to know that they can come to me. I won’t just give them a wash, rinse, and a curl, but I’ll touch their heads and I’ll take from them and give something back.

“I want to do this soon, probably about the time I’m thirty. I don’t want to wait until I’m too old. But I want to do this in La Luna. See, I don’t want to live in New Orleans forever. Much as I love it here, La Luna is my home.”

Sweet looked at me straight in the eyes and said, “I’ll have to think about this. I’ll have to think about living in such a small town so far away from the Gulf of Mexico, and how in the world I could keep making a living with my boat.”

Sweet frowned just a little and continued, “There’s something else about marriage I’ve wanted to talk to you about.”

I braced myself for something frightening that I had never guessed at.

“You learn a lot about women when you listen to your sisters,” he said. “And I think it’s plain silly in this day and age for a woman to have to take her husband’s last name when they get married. I don’t want to be held responsible for ruining a great name like Calla Lily Ponder.”

Then he sat back, smiling a big smile, and said, “You know, it’s exciting to imagine starting a new career. Working on the water doesn’t get any easier as you age. La Luna. Okay. From what I’ve seen of that town, I could live there.

“I don’t want to live in this rat city forever, either. It’s a good place to be for a while, but it’s a tough city. And I sure don’t want to raise my children here.”

Just the sound of him saying “my children” along with “yes” to La Luna! Happiness flooded through me.

“So you wouldn’t mind?”

“No, I’d love it. And I know how I could make a living.”

“How?”

He said, “I’ve got two good buddies who already do something like this. They live in Slidell, and they have themselves a situation which I know I could set up in La Luna. They’re union fellows who spend two weeks at home and two weeks piloting boats owned by different companies who contract with the oil companies. I wouldn’t have to own my own boat.”

I said, “But two weeks away?”

He said, “Well, depending on how much money we wanted to make, I could make it one week away and three at home. I could even take a whole month off once in a while if I wanted to.”

I couldn’t stop smiling for days.

You’d think after that, we’d get married in La Luna. But after much discussion, we decided to have the wedding in New Orleans. Since Sweet’s family was in Donaldsonville, just a ways up on the Mississippi, and mine was farther up on the La Luna, we figured we’d sort of meet in the middle.

Father Gerard agreed to come down from La Luna to perform the ceremony. He’d been our priest in La Luna for five or six years. I’ve always loved Father Gerard. We used to call him “the bicycling priest” because he rode all over the parish on his bike. When Sweet and I went back home for our first pre-Cana counseling session, imagine my surprise when Father Gerard said, “Sweet Chalon! Are you one of the Chalons from Donaldsonville?”

“Yes, I am,” Sweet told him.

“I was down there in Donaldsonville for two years. Why, I may have even baptized you. What’s your given name?”

“Joseph DeVillierre Chalon.”

“Sure enough, I did.”

What a lucky coincidence for me and Sweet to get our counseling from a priest who knew both of us and both our worlds.

Because Sweet and I had our differences, that’s for sure. For instance, on the weekends, I like to go to the museum or explore different parts of the city, where Sweet would just as soon relax at my apartment and play cards. But Father Gerard said, “Every couple’s going to have their differences. What matters is how you deal with them. You got to learn to
roll
with the punches. And you’ve got to learn how to say you’re sorry, even if you feel like the other one’s to blame! You hear me, Calla Lily? And you too, Sweet?

“But there’s also going to be so much happiness! You’re going to bring each other more happiness than you ever knew!”

Next we found the sweetest little house that was in our price range on the other side of St. Charles. It would take a fair amount of work, but that was okay with us. And I’d have a flower garden!

Then I got my wedding dress. Its overall look was kind of 1920s, and it was all ivory and cream. Aunt Helen made it partly out of M’Dear’s wedding dress, which had been made out of her own mama’s wedding dress. It had a drop waist like Grandmama’s, decorated with a lace band and a rosette from the lace of M’Dear’s dress. The same lace trimmed the wonderful boatneck collar, threaded through with M’Dear’s wedding ribbon. So I was going into my marriage embraced by both Grandmama and M’Dear.

When I told Sukey I was getting married, she said, “Now, don’t you dare make me wear one of those peach-colored bridesmaid’s gowns that cost a fortune, need eighteen fittings, and then you can never wear them again!”

“Sukey,” I said, “I’m not even going to try! You are my maid of honor, so you can wear whatever you want.”

I knew that was a dangerous thing to say, but I thought, This is Sukey we’re talking about.

We rented the Jasmine Inn for the reception, a bed-and-breakfast on St. Charles Street. I guess you could call it “shabby genteel.” It had big verandas on two floors: the beautiful Victorian Lounge, with its antique fireplaces, huge mahogany doors and bar, and stained glass chandeliers; and the peaceful Alberta’s Tea Room, which was full of French stained glass. All the rooms had antique beds and furniture.

And there was a ballroom with room for a band and a bar.

Almost all the La Luna gang came for the wedding and stayed at the Jasmine Inn: Papa, Sonny Boy and Will and their wives, Aunt Helen, Renée and Eddie with Calla Rose and Little Eddie, Miz Lizbeth and Uncle Tucker, Nelle, Olivia and Pana LaVergne, and Mister and Mrs. Melonçon from the café, along with other friends from La Luna.

Then there was all of Sweet’s family and friends from Donaldsonville. They wouldn’t fit into the Jasmine Inn, so we put them at the Corn Stalk, down in the Quarter. It was an old Louisiana-plantation-style home with a grand front hall, gorgeous bedrooms with vaulted ceilings, and that famous wrought-iron fence around it, with bars shaped like cornstalks. Sweet would stay there too, until we were married.

The night before the wedding, I went out on the upstairs porch of the Jasmine Inn. I breathed in the night air and looked up at the sky. There was the moon, and in it I saw the face of the Moon Lady. “M’Dear,” I prayed, “please come to me tonight. I need you! I need you to tell me how to be married, how to be a wife, how to be happy and to make Sweet happy, like you did with Papa. On my wedding day, I need you by my side.”

I waited, and I could swear, just for a moment, that I saw a cloud pass over the moon. It was like a wink.

I felt that M’Dear was blessing my wedding.

The next day, all of us girls got dressed together. Sweet, in the old tradition, was not allowed to see me. When we gathered in my room at the Jasmine Inn, Sukey brought an ice chest with three bottles of champagne and a couple of Cokes for herself. I like champagne, but I mean, really! I had to get dressed!

For posterity, we took a picture of Renée, who had been drinking little plastic glasses of champagne poured by Sukey, sitting on the commode. Her beautiful pink gown’s huge skirt was thrown up in the back behind her, making her look like a little flower coming up out of the toilet.

As for Sukey, well, Sukey was not going to be caught dead wearing pink, but she at least managed a deep lavender that somewhat blended in. And of course the bottom half was a miniskirt.

Somehow we managed to all pile into cars on time and head to the church. The drivers were honking the entire way. As soon as I got out of the car, I got a fanfare! Brass instruments just started blowing. I had no idea what was going to happen when I told Sweet, “You can just take care of the music.” And it couldn’t have been more beautiful. Everybody was already hugging and kissing and crying before we even got into the church.

We’d asked Father Gerard to give us a Nuptial Blessing, not a High Nuptial Mass, but our service was still Catholic enough to please everybody. Father Gerard’s talk got right to the point: “Okay, Calla Lily Ponder, and you, Joseph DeVillierre Chalon, y’all are here to get hooked up forever. And I’m here to bless you. I want to say that there’s going to be sadness in your life together, there are going to be tears, and you need to be ready to reach for that Kleenex and cry. Go ahead, cry out the tears. Let the real tears flow—but no fake alligator tears, trying to make the other person feel bad. If you slam the door and call the other one an ignoramus, do your darnedest to come back in and make up and smooch before the day is over. That’s where forgiveness comes in.

“And then there’s going to be joy. Because just from talking to y’all, I can say that the two of you are about the funniest folks I’ve ever met. You also have a great capacity to understand each other and for listening. So I say, keep on listening. Because if you want to be together forever, that’s going to take a lot of listening. That’s why the good Lord gave us ears.

“You will receive the body and blood of Christ. It comes from a broken body. And how appropriate—because we are human. Because we hurt each other and have to ask forgiveness. And there is no better place to learn about forgiveness than in the vessel of marriage. Now, let your love go forth and heal each other and those around you.”

Then Father Gerard said, “Do I have a ring-bearer here?”

Then one of Sweet’s nephews stepped out of the pew, cute as could be. With his black hair slicked all the way back, he looked like a baby seal. He brought up the ring on a little pillow to Sweet’s best man, Antoine, who took the ring and handed it to Sweet. Sweet held the ring while Father Gerard said the vows, which were partly traditional and partly our own.

We exchanged rings, then Father Gerard gave us both the host. “Now, take this body and blood of Christ,” he said.

At the end of Mass, Father Gerard said, “Okay,
laissez les bons temps rouler
!”

Antoine’s Cajun band kicked in—fiddle, cello, and the horns that had announced our arrival at the church. They played the Mamou Cajun two-step as Sweet and I marched together down the aisle. The whole church broke out in applause and whistling.

We held the reception in the Victorian Room at the Jasmine Inn. Antoine and his combo kicked off the dancing with that sweet Cajun waltz “Little Black Eyes,” a slow fiddle melody. Sweet twirled me out onto the dance floor. He held me, and we just moved together, lightly, like we were floating on air, circling the room past our families and all our friends. I thought,
Never have I felt such complete and pure joy
.

Renée kicked off her high heels and was dancing barefoot with her baby, that sweet little boy, on her shoulders. And Eddie, her husband, didn’t seem the least bit concerned that the child would fall. He’d torn off his tie and was doing the Twist with Olivia! Papa was dancing with Nelle, who wore a red satin cowgirl shirt and a pleated skirt. At one point Sonny Boy and Will lifted me up on their shoulders and carried me around the room while everyone cheered them on.