Chapter Two
Honey
Three years later
What could make being at a funeral worse? Having your monthly friend decide that’s the time to make an appearance. And no sanitary pads. Being a twenty-five-year-old somewhat responsible woman, I typically know when Aunt Flo is going to arrive, but life’s been unpredictable these days. Since I rode with my grandparents, and we were in a hurry, I didn’t bring my purse—meaning I don’t have any of my emergency pads or tampons.
This toilet paper practically disintegrates as soon as it’s touched. Listening for any sounds outside of the stall door and not hearing any, I shuffle out with my panties between my ankles. I grab some paper napkins from the basket by the sink and hurry back in the stall to make a makeshift barrier. Hopefully my little dam will keep it at bay until I can find some proper sanitary supplies. Maybe one of the ladies will have a spare in their purse. I step back out of the stall and stare at my reflection in the mirror while I wash my hands.
My auburn hair is tamed into silky strands hanging past my shoulders, reminding me I need to get a trim. Dark circles are evidence of my lack of sleep. Sunken cheekbones and my protruding collar bone have Mimi beside herself. I don’t blame her but hate that I’ve given her reason to worry. After the divorce I simply lost my appetite. Even if it has been a year and a half. Getting married in your early twenties after everyone warned you not to, only to have it blow up in your face, and then feeling the shame and regret, ages you. The verdict is still out if I’m more upset with having a failed marriage so young or admitting I was wrong.
Today isn’t about me though. I’m sure some of the gossiping bitties will make it about me, but I’m here for my best friend, Olivia, and Mimi. They’ve lost someone special, a grandmother and a best friend; whereas, I got rid of someone who was just a special kind of asshole. I ease out of the restroom and hurry to the sanctuary. The service for Mrs. Odette Duprey has thankfully begun.
It’s been years since I’ve been to Magnolia Grove, Alabama during the spring. Generally, I only show up for Christmas. But when your childhood best friend loses her grandmother, who was also Mimi’s best friend and neighbor, you drop everything and come running. And running is something I’m very good at. I shake my head before I begin stewing on my own disaster of a life. I’m here for Oliva, who is laying her grandmother to rest.
Olivia has a crowd circling her, so I ease over to Emma Sullivan. “Psst. Emma.”
“Yeah, Honey?” Everyone calls me Honey. Pepaw hated the name Harper. Said it sounded like what you’d call someone who annoys, nags, or harps all the time. Since I was a baby, he insisted on calling me “Honey” and would tell everyone my name was Honey. Then he said I grew into the name and turned out to be sweeter than honey.
I lean in and whisper, “Do you have a pad?”
Emma shakes her head, but before I can stop her she taps her mother Geri, who is sitting next to Laney Ann Whitfield. “Do either of y’all have a pad? Honey needs one.”
Laney shakes her head and leans forward to tap Rae Lynn and Zoey Harding sitting in the pew. I pinch my lips together as I watch even Emma’s dad, Sammie, make eye contact with me as every lady around him is whispering for a pad. I hear Zoey’s daughters ask, “What’s a pad? Like a notepad? iPad? I have an iPad. But if you need a notepad, I bet Nana has one.”
Wren Whitmere opens her purse and begins frantically searching. She looks over to me and shakes her head. Savvy Greenwood’s voice carries over as I hear her ask Ayla Carington, “Aunt Flo is at Honey’s door. Do you have anything?”
To which sweet little Goldie Jenkins asks her dad, Wade Jenkins, if he knows Flo. He kindly tells his daughter he isn’t acquainted with my aunt. She shrugs and mumbles, “I thought you knew everyone.”
Wade turns wide-eyed and beat red as he makes eye contact with Lemon. I want to apologize to Wade for putting him in that awkward situation with his daughter but I’m too busy watching the disaster play out. Pew to pew, groups of people passing word of my mischief along, the entire sanctuary is busy whispering. All discussing my menstrual cycle and on a treasure hunt for a sanitary pad or tampon. I regret ever asking. I really do.
Dolly Hanes stands from her seat in the front pew. She approaches Lucy Landers who smiles kindly and nods. She hurries over to lift up a bag that has to belong to Mary Poppins. Lucy approaches me with a sympathetic smiles. When she reaches me she slides a pad into my hand like we’re having a drug exchange in the sanctuary of Shady Grove Church of little ole’ Magnolia Grove.
I turn and hurry to the bathroom only to have Mimi block my path. “Why didn’t you tell me your started, sweetheart? I would’ve ran to the store real quick and got you something. Do you need something for the cramps?”
Pepaw walks up and pats my back. “I’ve got some of them pain killers that I take for headaches and when I get down in my back. They’re in the truck. I’ll go grab it.”
“No, I’m fine,” I whisper loudly to his retreating back.
I can feel all eyes on me but I power forward to the restroom with Mimi at my side. I start to tell her I am in no need of any further assistance but I’ve been gone for so long and she seems anxious. An ache pierces my chest when a thought occurs to me. Maybe my mini crisis is helping distract her from the fact her best friend is gone.
Everyone in town knows my memaw and pepaw, Minnie and Millard Montgomery. Like I’m known to everyone as Honey, she’s known to everyone as Mimi. They own the only gas station in Magnolia Point, Mimi’s Gasoline Grove. It’s full service. Pepaw still believes in pumping folk's gas and cleaning their windshields. It’s rustic and outdated but holds lots of charm. Especially with all the flowers in the window ceils that Mimi loves to baby.
In the mornings, Pepaw fishes and brings his catches for Mimi to fry up and serve. Mimi’s most known for making the best sweet tea to touch your tastebuds. I had the best summers spent staying with my grandparents and hanging around the gas station.
At Mimi and Pepaw’s house there were always homecooked meals and fresh baked desserts. Olivia’s grandmother lived next door, so while Mimi and she’d have a glass of iced tea and gossip, Olivia and I played along the river and got into whatever trouble we could find. Between our two grandmothers we always had plenty of warm hugs, amazing food, and sweets.
A sharp pain pierces my chest. I should’ve visited more after I got older. I didn’t start coming to visit on Christmas until after my parents passed while I was away in college. They’re my only family left.
When Mimi and I are situated back in the pew, Pepaw turns to me, shaking a medicine bottle. He turns the bottle for me to read what it treats. His leathered skin finger points to the words as he reads, “See there. It treats headaches and backaches, that’s what I use it for. But it’ll also take care of menstrual cramps. Take one of them there pills and it’ll fix ya up, baby doll. Oh wait—I’m sorry. I apologize you need two. Yeah, it says take two.”
I accept the bottle and my eyes feel warmth. I’m well aware of this brand of acetaminophen, but I allow him to explain it and listen intently. Him taking the time to explain and his genuine concern over this is what makes me misty-eyed. I’ve missed them taking care of me. “Thank you, Pepaw.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. After this we’ll go by and get some ice cream. Take your pills and some ice cream, and all will be right as rain.”
Mimi sighs. “Millard you think ice cream fixes everything.”
“Well dear, it might not fix it, but it sure does make any situation better. ”
Sage advice.
I whisper to Mimi, “Should I go to Olivia?”
“I think she’s got plenty around her right now. She’ll need you most after everyone clears out.”
Someone begins playing the piano signaling the beginning of the service. I can’t see who it is because the church is full and we’re in the back, but it’s definitely someone different from when I used to come on Sundays in the summer. The talent is incredible.
Brother Johnny Brewster stands at the front behind the podium. He’s been the pastor at Shady Grove Church for as long as I can remember coming to visit my grandparents in the summer—and he was old then. The nicest man you’ll ever meet, other than Pepaw of course. Brother Johnny’s wife, Mrs. Jinny, sits in the front pew. She usually plays the piano, but Mimi had told me her fingers have been bothering her. Mrs. Jinny is an extremely talented pianist and organist. It’s a shame to hear she can no longer perform since it’d been such a passion for her. There’s been whispers that Brother Johnny has been considering retiring. What will this little church do? I highly doubt they’d ever follow another pastor. Brother Johnny and Mrs. Jinny have been a staple of not only the little country church but the town of Magnolia Grove.
Mrs. Jinny is a feisty little thing. Like Brother Johnny, she’s always been a sweet elderly lady, yet never aging for as long as I can remember. She’d often visit Mimi at the gas station and they’d share a glass of sweet tea. I think they enjoyed poking fun at the little group of retired old men who enjoy sitting in the corner eating fried catfish and gossiping shamelessly . It wouldn’t be so comical if it wasn’t that these are the very men who are the first to talk about their wives partaking and spreading gossip. Now if you ask them, they’ll tell you they’re only speaking out of concern and need to know who to pray for or who might need a helping hand.
“No wonder they got the wives they do with those silver tongues,” Minnie would say.
“Smooth talkers that bunch,” Mrs. Jinny would agree. “Is it any wonder they were all in politics?”
Now that I’m back in town they’ll have someone new to discuss, give their typical victims of ridicule a break. I don’t want my grandparents to have to go through that though. They’re the best people in the world and don’t deserve to hear one of their own being talked about. That’s the main reason I didn’t want to come here. However, I felt isolated in my own town after the ugly divorce. Mimi and Pepaw wouldn’t hear of it. They insisted I come home. Even though I’d only spent summers and holidays here, this was home. They’d never made me feel like this was a second home, but rather this was my place. My grandparents had that effect on people.
Mimi’s Gasoline Grove was a gas station yet it was so much more because of them. There was fresh catfish caught by Pepaw. The best sweet tea you’d ever have because of Mimi. Flowers decorated the place. The place felt like stepping back into a similar time yet still held modern conveniences. It was so them. Mimi and Pepaw were the ultimate southern couple with their warm hellos, offering snacks and beverages, their faith and love for others, and protecting family and friends at all costs. Which is why I don’t want them to have to choose between friends or family when it comes to me. I know what everyone is going to be whispering about me being divorced and so young. Whereas Mimi and Pepaw have never once made me feel judged, they did throw in a told you so, I know not everyone will think like them. And I know they’ll put me first and unleash their temper on anyone who says anything ugly about me. Which I do not want to happen.
After the service I don’t stick around and hurry home to Mimi and Pepaw’s. I’ll make plans to go visit Olivia in her bakery. I promise my grandparents I’ll go to church with them Sunday morning and we’ll do ice cream afterward.
Between church services, Bible studies, and funerals, Shady Grove Church stays active. I notice the beautiful landscaping work that Wade Jenkins has been maintaining. The service has just begun with the choir singing the opening hymn by the time I slide into the pew next to my grandparents. I purposefully did this to avoid small-talk with anyone.
The church might be small, but the choir is strong and powerful. I notice Mrs. Jinny is playing the piano this time, and she’s glowing. Brother Johnny comes to stand at the podium and his smile, too, is a little brighter.
“Welcome. Good morning, good morning.”
Everyone calls back, “Morning,” “mornin’,” and “good morning.” Brother Johnny looks beside himself with happiness. “I’m so pleased to welcome Brother John David who will lead us this morning.”
Mimi and Pepaw both turn and smile at one another. I lean closer and whisper, “Who is this?”
Mimi tells me he’s the pastor’s only son. He’s recently moved back to Magnolia Grove. I didn’t know they had a son. Or maybe I did? I search my brain and vaguely remember a lanky boy with long hair always hanging in his eyes. He was always getting into mischief. Nothing serious. You know what they say about preacher’s kids… They’re always the ones getting into trouble. He was a cute kid in a dorky borderline emo kind of way. We never interacted though when I came to visit.
Or so I thought.
My entire body stiffens and goes on high alert when from behind the podium a giant figure stands. Long dark hair is pulled back into a neat tiny bun. Piercing blue eyes look out into the congregation. His sharp features might now have a neatly trimmed beard, but there’s no mistaking him. Then that deep voice echoes off the church walls. The preacher’s son was never tall, dark, and intimidatingly handsome. Cute would be a vast understatement.
Never. Never in a million years would I have expected to see my one-night stand at the church altar. I’m beginning to hyperventilate at the gravity of this situation. My one and only—my one night stand was with my mimi’s preacher! Isn’t that some big no-no? Aren’t pastors supposed to be held to a higher moral ground? What was he doing in a bar? He told me he was in the Air Force.
“Honey?” Mimi’s cool, bony hands gently touch my wrist. “Are you okay?”
No! No, I’m not okay. I’m going to hell. I’m surprised I haven’t burst into flames. Of all the sins I’ve committed, I think this one ranks at the top.
“I’m fine,” I wheeze out.
Brother Johnny David. He went by J.D. at the bar. I know what that stands for now. And of course he’s going to lead the next hymn. His mother is beaming with pure love and devotion as she watches him begin to sing while she plays the piano.
That voice.
I’ve never heard a hymn sung like that. It’s moving, soothing, and overpowering all at once. This man could make an atheist want to convert with that voice. He really is one of God’s angels.
And I…
I’m going to be sick. Worse, I’m still being seduced by him. I’m sitting here in the pew ogling this man. Who is Mrs. Jinny’s son! Oh my… I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again. How can I look into that sweet face and know what I did to her son? I’ll have to avoid Brother Johnny too. I can’t shake his hands and allow him to bless me after what I did to his son. And I did a lot of things to his son. And his son did some pretty incredible things to me. His voice isn’t his only blessing. Heat creeps up the back of my neck and on to my cheeks. This is the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in. There’s this longing in my chest but a gnawing guilt, with a healthy dose of fear, swirling in the pit of my stomach.
This is God punishing me. Nobody can tell me the Lord doesn’t have a sense of humor, because right now He has jokes. It was three years ago, but He waited until the perfect moment, when I would least expect it, to be like, remember that one really sinful night you had? You’ve been fantasizing about it and praying to meet him again? Bazinga! He’s the new preacher.
I wonder if there’s a special place in hell for fornicating with the pastor? When we met he said he was in the Air Force. He didn’t mention being one of God’s soldiers. He isn’t Catholic, so maybe he can date. Then again, dating and one-night-stands are two separate things. There’s the argument that a one night stand can lead to dating. There’s still the fact he laid with a woman he wasn’t married to… I feel like I’m getting into a lot of gray areas. Lust is a sin. There’s a lot of lusting happening right now. Jesus would probably forgive me of my sins, but I’m not so sure some of the ladies here are as forgiving. I can keep our secret if J.D. can.
I was worried about everyone whispering about my recent divorce. That seems quite mild a scandal compared to what would happen if anyone learned of my history with the new pastor.