The interstate exit for Versailles was home to only two businesses, a ramshackle fruit stand selling Georgia peaches and boiled peanuts, and the Lazy J Truck Stop, which, according to its sign, offered both FRIED CHICKEN AND HOT SHOWERS.
Downtown Versailles was a scant block long. All the businesses seemed to be lost in the early
‘60s. The window of the La-Di-Da Dress Shop displayed pastel suits that looked like bargain basement versions of what the queen of widows had worn before she was given the moniker “Jackie 0.” Next door to the La-Di-Da, the Chatterbox Beauty Shop looked as though it might dole out hairdos to match the dress shop’s anachronistic clothing.
The only downtown eating establishment was a diner called the Dinner Bucket. “You know,” Lily said, “somehow I just don’t find bucket to be a very appetizing word.”
Ben pulled over in front of a squat brick doctor’s office. “Yeah, it does sound kinda like slopping the hogs, doesn’t it? And the really awful thing is that nobody in town calls it the Dinner Bucket — they just call it the Bucket.” He put the car in park and looked in the direction of the doctor’s office. “So ... are you ready to bleed?”
“Do we need an appointment?”
“Nope. That’s why you can get married in a day here. They’ve got a lab tech on staff whose only job is to draw the blood of the betrothed — no appointments necessary.”
Mimi was sweaty and cranky from her nap in the car. As soon as Lily took her into the doctor’s office, she got to work making her a juice bottle while Ben waited at the front desk to check in.
A heavy woman in a white polyester uniform emerged from behind the EMPLOYEES ONLY door and promptly crowed, “Well, Benny Jack McGilly, as I live and breathe!”
Lily stifled the guffaw she felt rising from her belly. Benny Jack? Mr. Tommy Hilfiger-wearing, Wall Street Journal-reading, Emory University alumnus over there was named Benny Jack?
“Hi, Maybelle. We need to get blood tests today.”
Maybelle grinned. “Blood tests? Do you mean to tell me the oldest McGilly boy is finally getting married? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
Ben glared up from the form he was filling out. “Believe me, neither did I.”
“You having a big church wedding?” Maybelle asked, taking his paperwork.
“No. Actually, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about it. It’s kind of a secret.”
“A secret?”
Lily felt Maybelle’s eyes on her as the chunky woman suspiciously regarded Lily’s nose ring and the baby on her lap. Lily gave the woman a jaunty wave, but it didn’t seem to alter her opinion.
“A secret. I understand,” Maybelle said.
Maybelle called Ben back first. Mimi was calmer now, sitting in the chair next to Lily and playing with her toy camera. There was precious little in the waiting room to keep patients amused: ancient copies of Field and Stream for the menfolk, equally antiquated issues of Good Housekeeping for the ladies. The kiddies were expected to amuse themselves with the Children’s Illustrated Bible, the cover of which depicted an Aryan-looking Jesus talking to an equally Aryan-looking group of children.
In the lab, Lily sat down on a stool with Mimi on her lap. Although she was sure that Mimi was too young to comprehend what had happened to her mother, Lily had noticed that since the accident Mimi had clung to her like a baby koala bear. Tiny though she was, she seemed to sense that she had already lost one of her mothers and that she needed to be extra-careful not to lose this one, too.
The lab technician swabbed Lily’s arm with alcohol and nodded at Mimi. “That Benny Jack’s little girl?”
Lily reminded herself that this was the lie she was supposed to be perpetuating. She was going to have to be careful to keep her story straight. A lifetime of honesty hadn’t prepared her for this kind of skullduggery. “Uh, yes,” she said.
“I thought so,” the lab tech replied. “She looks just like him.”
Sure, lady. Whatever, Lily thought. But she smiled benignly. “Let’s see. I guess you’ll have to put your little girl down while I draw your blood. She can crawl around on the floor; she won’t hurt nothin’.”
Lily set Mimi down and turned her head as the needle entered her non-tattooed arm. Tattoo needles, she could handle. But she hated having blood drawn.
As Lily queasily watched the syringe fill with red fluid, a middle-aged, smiling nurse stuck her head in the door. “Hi, honey,” she said to Lily. “I just wanted to stop by to ask if you had any questions about ...” She pursed her lips demurely. “Married lady things. I’ve got all kinds of pamphlets, if you need
’em.”
“Mama!” Mimi squealed happily. Despite the lab tech’s certainty that she wouldn’t “bother nothing,” Mimi had managed to dump an entire bag of cotton balls on the floor and was petting them as if they were kittens.
The nurse looked at the baby, then at Lily. “I guess you won’t be needing any pamphlets, will you, hon?” She scurried off.
“Poor ole Bernice,” the lab tech said, sticking a round band-aid on Lily’s arm. “She just can’t get it through her head that there ain’t a girl alive these days that needs one of her little pamphlets on what a girl should expect on her wedding night.”
Lily laughed. “I guess girls are more sophisticated these days.” More sophisticated than you’ll ever know, she was thinking. “I’m sorry my daughter wrecked your lab.”
“Oh, don’t worry a thing about it. She’s just as cute as she can be. If you and Benny Jack wanna check back in half an hour, we should have your test results ready.”