Luke & JJ
by Greg Bowden
Chapter Eight
Just before leaving for church, Louisa stepped out onto the porch to check on the workmen. It was the third time she had done so since the men had arrived two hours earlier and, as at her previous checks, everything was going just as it should.
"Now you just come along to services," Mr. Williams said, affectionately taking her by the arm, "and let the men be. They know what to do."
Louisa took one last look and then allowed herself to be escorted out to the buggy. The boys were already seated in the back, J.J. and Luke trying to look appropriately solemn, Tom, reading while he waited and Eliot, staring into space with a slightly imbecilic grin on his face.
"Shall I drive?" Eliot asked as his parents approached.
"No thank you, son," his father answered. "On his wedding day a man isn't fit to walk, never mind drive a buggy. No, I'll happily take the reins."
As she was helped into the buggy Louisa thought how odd it felt, this most probably being the last Sunday Eliot would ride to services with them. After today, Eliot would have a wife and, in a year or so, she hoped, the beginnings of his own family. She patted him on the arm. "I do appreciate you accompanying us to services today. We shall miss your company in the future."
Eliot leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, which made her blush. "I shall miss you, also," he said, "but a man must leave his father..."
"...and his mother and shall cleave unto his wife..." she finished for him. "Yes, and now it's your time, but I shall miss your company nonetheless." She turned and faced forward so the tear forming in her eye could be attributed to the wind or perhaps a piece of grit in the air.
The Reverend Shaffner's sermon that morning, appropriately titled Marital Obligation, received little attention from the Williams family except for its member-to-be who listened with rapt attention and briefly wondered if she was really ready for all this.
Louisa tried to pay attention but her mind steadfastly refused to concentrate on anything but preparations for the afternoon's ceremony. She had thought she would never put on a wedding, all her surviving children being male, but here she was and she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
Louisa and Millicent had spent weeks working out all the details and as they did, Louisa gained more and more respect and affection for the girl. Millicent proved to have a practical, and intelligent, mind with just a tiny streak of frivolousness to it. She also had excellent manners and always showed a proper deference to her future mother-in-law.
It had been decided to hold the ceremony at the Williams' home since the house Millicent and her father lived in was far too small and Millicent thought the Garden Street church to be a little too formal. Stuffy was the word that came to her, but formal is what she said.
J.J. ignored the sermon altogether and spent the time as any good artist would, planning and ordering the steps he would take in completing the decoration of the large wedding cake he had baked early that morning. He wasn't sure just how his mother would react when she discovered that one of the tiers was chocolate but after all, it was Eliot's wedding too and J.J. had promised him chocolate cake.
John Williams simply turned himself off, as he always did when Reverend Shaffner got long winded. He had often wondered if Louisa noticed when he did this but of course he couldn't ask and she remained silent on the subject of his behavior in church.
Luke stared into space trying to sort out the jumble of emotions which threatened to overwhelm him. When John had invited him to go to town and pick out some new clothes for the wedding he had said no, he had some clothes he could wear. He didn't know what had made him say that, except perhaps the expense, but now it was too late to change his mind. The night before he had gone to get the doeskin trousers out and brush them but he couldn't make himself do it; there were too many memories and too much hurt attached to them. Then, when he had finally gone to bed, the dreams had come, so real they had made him sick.
But now it had to be done. It was either that or appear at Eliot's wedding in the threadbare denim pants he had on now. There were no other choices. He shuddered, wondering if he could go through with it.
Tom sat through the sermon reviewing in his mind the chapter he had just read in Economics Today. He had no interest whatsoever in Marital Obligation.
Eliot, as might be expected, was simply in another world altogether.
When the Reverend had finally had his say and the closing hymn had been sung, everyone hurried out, anxious to get on with the chores and joys of the day. Louisa paused on the steps to remind the Reverend of the time he was expected at the Old Adobe before John propelled her on, into the buggy.
Back at the farm everyone went right to their chores. Luke helped out with the setting up of benches on the lawn in front of the porch while John saw to a final cleaning and grooming of the rose arbor under which the bride and groom would stand.
The kitchen, pantry and dining room were filled with people preparing food under Louisa's careful supervision. She got something of a start when she noticed the that one tier of the wedding cake was to be chocolate but then smiled to herself as she realized that it was a kind of present to Eliot from J.J. Just the thing that boy would do for his brother, she thought. She also supposed that Millicent might as well start getting used to that sort of thing. J.J., unaware of his mother's thoughts, was quick to spread that particular tier with the smooth, white frosting first.
Eventually things fell into place: The workmen finished in the front garden and were fed; the young ladies helping in the kitchen had everything under control; J.J.'s cake was finished and everyone in the kitchen said they'd never seen one as beautiful. Louisa went to her room to dress.
In the hay barn Luke brushed the doeskin trousers, his emotions under control though not completely sorted out. It had come to him, finally, that the clothes didn't actually have much to do with what had happened that day, either the pleasure or the pain. The simple fact was that the man had grabbed whatever he could to cover his nakedness and run like the devil himself was after him. If the trousers reminded Luke of that day, then so be it.
It still wasn't easy.
The supple trousers felt oddly stiff at the waistband but he had no time to deal with that; Dickens was already greeting early arrivals.
He
stripped and, even though he had bathed the night before, quickly washed
himself with water from the big old pitcher on the crate he used as a wash
stand. When he finished, he pulled on the short silk underpants which felt cool
and smooth against his skin. Luke had grown and matured in the time since he
came to
J.J., in his freshly polished Sunday boots and new trousers bought especially for this day, was standing on the porch, putting the last touches of fancy frosting on the wedding cake when he saw Luke come across the lawn. At that moment, in a sudden flash, he knew; he calmly went back to the cake, the paper cone of frosting steady in his hands even though his life had just been altered in a very fundamental way. He knew, in that instant, without any doubt, that he loved Luke; loved him not as a brother, not as a friend but as a... He wasn't sure what although the word lover came into his mind.
Luke glanced up to the porch and caught J.J.'s eye for a moment. He thought J.J. looked a little pale and awfully serious but decided it was probably due to concern over the cake. He smiled at J.J. and then went on checking the benches, making sure they were stable and evenly placed. Finally satisfied he walked past the azaleas and up the two steps to the porch. He stood back and surveyed the cake.
"Now that is something to be proud of," he said, walking around it. "Looks good enough to eat." He reached toward one of the tiers, his finger out as though to sample the frosting.
"Don't do that," J.J. grabbed his hand and then jerked back, as though burned by the touch. "Here," he said, hoping to cover his reaction, "this is the same. Try it." He squeezed some frosting out of the paper cone onto Luke's finger. The way J.J. had cut the tip of the cone made the frosting come out looking like a white satin rope laid along Luke's finger. For some reason that embarrassed J.J.
"Oh, that is good enough to eat." Luke smacked his lips and held out his hand, asking for more. J.J. squeezed little mounds of frosting on Luke's finger tips and then turned away, afraid he might loose control and simply declare his love. He busied himself with gathering his bowls and spatulas but kept dropping them.
Luke tried to help him. "Easy, J.J. Easy. There's no need to hurry." Together they managed to get everything on a tray which Luke carried into the kitchen. J.J. went to tell his mother, who was entertaining early arrivals in her flower garden, that everything was ready on the lawn and porch.
As more and more guests arrived Luke, J.J. and Tom were kept busy escorting them around the house, onto the lawn, directing the parking of buggies, and making sure the hired men were properly caring for the horses. Dickens did his part too, making sure the horses knew where to go as they arrived.
The Reverend Shaffner arrived and went directly into the house to speak, separately, with the bride and the groom. It was his final duty before the ceremony: making sure neither was entertaining second thoughts. It would not do to continue a wedding only because food had been prepared and guests were seated in the garden.
When, at long last, the grandfather's clock in the parlor struck the hour of three, Louisa was escorted by her husband to the first row of benches. Luke and J.J. ushered the rest of the people to their seats, escorted Reverend Shaffner to the rose arbor and then took their places next to Louisa and John. Eliot, accompanied by Tom as Best Man, walked out and stood with the Reverend. Tom managed to look appropriately solemn but Eliot still had that idiot grin on his face.
Miss Wulke began playing the small organ which had been brought out from the parlor. She rather disapproved of the music that had been chosen, music from an opera which was surely not appropriate for a wedding, but she kept her disapproval to herself since both Louisa and Millicent had been adamant and the Reverend had just shrugged when she brought it to his attention.
When the music began several of Millicent's young lady friends stepped out of the parlor and began marching up the center aisle that had been arranged between the benches. One of them sprinkled flower petals along the way.
At last Millicent, on the arm of her father, appeared on the porch. There were little gasps from the assembled guests, both from the ladies and their escorts, as they turned on their benches and craned their necks to catch a first glimpse of the bride who could only be described as stunning. Millicent's dress, which she had made herself under Louisa's supervision, was beautiful. The white satin bodice had been cleverly fashioned to give the appearance of being cut shockingly low although it was really quite modest. The skirt fell to the floor in soft folds and gathers, giving the effect of gently falling water. Tiny crystal beads sewn here and there sparkled in the sunlight, as would drops of clear water, broken loose from a falls. Her veil was of lace which her mother had worn years before at her own wedding.
Louisa could not help noticing that Millicent wore the same idiot's grin as her husband-to-be.
With the bride escorted up the aisle and given away, Mr. Chase, breaking tradition in a rather charming way, sat with the Williams family. Miss Wulke, having taken in the bride's costume and now seeing this, could hardly wait to get home; her aged mother would take great delight in the story, told with such embellishments as might occur to Miss Wulke along the way.
J.J. had some trouble attending to the ceremony being so very aware of Luke sitting next to him. It was almost as if there was an electrical current passing to him from Luke, energizing him, making him feel as though he might burst. He wondered if Luke could feel the energy too and the thoughts focused on him.
When, at long last, Eliot was told he might lift the veil and kiss his bride, the ladies in the audience dabbed at their eyes and sighed, happy for the young people now united for life. Some of the young gentlemen also sighed but from emotions somewhat more akin to envy; Eliot had obviously won himself a great prize.
With
the end of the ceremony, light refreshments were immediately served, tea for
the ladies, sarsaparilla and lemonade for the children and the men who—by
reason of choice or, perhaps, their wives—did not wish to sample the good
whiskey John had had sent down from
At the edge of the lawn, under the wide spread of the mimosa trees, a large table had been set out and was now being loaded with various bowls and platters of food to tempt the guests. Thick slabs of beef and pork which had been grilled over charcoal in the horse trough, drained and moved away from the wooden corral fence for the occasion, were laid out along with bowls of sliced cucumbers and onions in vinegar and mounds of mashed potatoes seasoned with butter and cream. There were bowls of green beans cooked with bacon, noodles with smoked salmon and black olives and, of course, sweet corn roasted in its husks over the charcoal along with the meat.
When the guests had served themselves from the groaning board, the family followed and went to sit among them. The bride and groom, of course, made only a pretense of eating; their appetites were strong but not for beef steaks or sweet corn.
The meal finished, Miss Wulke went back to the organ and played a fanfare, one of her own choosing. Mr. Williams stood at the edge of the porch and made a short speech, thanking everyone for honoring the bride and groom with their attendance and inviting them to gather for the cutting of the cake. As preparations were made, several people told J.J. that they thought the cake too beautiful to cut. He laughed, telling them that the only good of any cake was in the eating.
While
Millicent cut and served the cake, Eliot poured French champagne, a gift from
Millicent's father. Miss Wulke noted with sharp eyes
that even some of the ladies sipped a glass of the wine with their cake but the
true
Millicent handled this little surprise with great equanimity, especially when she saw how it pleased her husband. Louisa noticed that and liked her daughter-in-law even more.
Eliot sought out J.J. and hugged him. "Thank you, little brother," he whispered in his ear, "for a wonderful present. And did you see the expression on old Miss Wulke's face when Millie cut into it?".
"Yes," J.J. giggled, partly from pleasure, partly from the champagne he didn't think his mother had seen him take, "and if I'd known that would happen I would've done it even if you didn't like chocolate." The brothers went, arms around shoulders, back to the porch where J.J. gave Eliot back to Millicent and helped himself to another glass of wine.
"You will regret that tomorrow," his mother said quietly, "but, as it is your regret, do as you will. Do not, however, expect me to clean up after you." She took Eliot's arm. "I think you may properly gather your bride now, and leave for your own home. That is, unless you wish to remain here for the dancing which I expect will go on late into the evening.".
"Must we say eternal good-byes to everyone?".
"Under the circumstances, I don't think that will be necessary. Your wife will take care of thanks at services next week, I'm sure." Louisa hugged her son. "Now go off with your wife and begin your new life. I shall not expect to see either of you for a day or two."
Some of the guests, especially the older or more conservative folk, left about that time too, including Miss Wulke who carried a second piece of cake which Louisa had insisted she take home for herself. Louisa and John bid them good-by while the hired men sorted out the horses and carriages with Luke's assistance. By the time the last had gone the music had begun on the porch.
John walked back to the house with Luke. "What happened to J.J and Tom?"
"Well, sir, Tom was in such deep conversation with Mr. Chase that I hesitated to disturb him and I believe J.J. is napping." He knew very well J.J. was napping because he'd helped him up the stairs and put him to bed himself. He'd also put the wash basin on the floor, in easy reach of the bed, along with a couple of damp cloths.
"You put him to bed?" When Luke nodded, John patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks. Time he learned, I suppose. I'll look in on him later, see if he needs anything."
Luke laughed. "Probably a new head. Maybe the rest of the rig, too."
Luke quickly found himself bored with the dancing. There was no one around near his age except Tom and Tom was completely occupied with Mr. Chase. Finally he excused himself to Louisa, poured some whiskey into a glass and went out to the hay barn. He found Dickens curled up on his corner of the bed, resting before his next tour of duty.
Luke
hadn't had whisky for a long time, not since the night he'd left
Naked, he sat cross legged in the middle of his bed, brushing the doeskin trousers. He picked up his whiskey, thinking about how it had been, putting J.J. to bed. It had taken all his strength not to climb into the bed with him and take him in his arms, comforting him until the champagne put him to sleep. But he knew it wouldn't be possible to do that, just put his arms around J.J. and hold him. His body would demand more and J.J. would recognize that demand and hate him for it. Nothing was worth that.
The waistband of the trousers still felt stiff and it crackled as he brushed. He examined it closely and saw that a band of heavy cloth, the same shade as the doeskin, had been sewn around the inside. It didn't appear to have been put in by the tailor; the thread was different from the rest and the stitches were not nearly as even and neat. He picked at it but the thread proved too strong for him. He got up and found the pocket knife Eliot had given him for his birthday. The small blade was just right to slip under a stitch and cut it. After that the cloth came loose easily.
He didn't believe what he found. The stiffness and crackling sound had been made by money. Crisp new bills. Lots of them. He took a swallow of his whiskey and began to laugh. He laughed for a long time, rousing Dickens who raised his head to see what all the ruckus was about. When he assured himself it wasn't the dreams again he got off the bed and went outside to relieve himself and ponder the oddness of human beings.
When he finally got himself under control, Luke counted the bills. Then he counted them again. And again. Finally he raised his whiskey glass in a silent toast to the handsome stranger who had left him with a pair of trousers that had seven hundred dollars sewn into the waist.
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To be continued.
Comments, suggestions or criticisms always appreciated and always answered.
Greg Bowden