Chapter 13

That afternoon I drove into Enterprise. In the morning, when Cecelia had reached over to tap on my book, I'd looked at her forearm, that sinewy forearm with its prominent veins that I've admired since 1994, and realized what would look wonderfully good on her. She's worn a watch as long as I've known her, a silver watch with a narrow band which she's owned for years and has had someone repair twice that I know of. And a bracelet would match it on her right arm.

I've bought jewelry for her from time to time, though neither of us wears jewelry much. We've both got our wedding rings, of course, and I've got an opal ring that's part of a matched set – the other one is Cecelia's. I've also got a ruby ring that Darlia gave me for my birthday a few years back. And of course Cecelia's got her "engagement necklace," a gold chain with a pendant ruby which I'd bought for her when I decided to propose, and which I gave her anyway even though she beat me to the punch, and proposed to me first. She's even got a piercing – a chip of diamond that she wears on the right side of her nose, and which can be invisible until the sun catches it just right. Except for the piercing, her wedding and engagement rings, and the necklace, she only wears her jewelry on special occasions.

I suspected that what I planned to get her on this trip, though, she'd wear. The only trick would be finding something that would work, for although neither of us is an expert and can't provide analyses of things, we both know what will look good on the other. I hoped to find what I wanted in Enterprise, because if I couldn't, I'd have to go to Dothan or even Montgomery, or maybe down into Florida, though without looking at a map I couldn't say whether anyplace in Florida would be closer and if so which place.

As it happened, though, I did find something perfect in Enterprise, and was back in Leanna by suppertime. Mama had cooked hamburgers, nice thick patties the way you don't get at a burger joint, and she'd made sure to cook mine well done so that I wouldn't gag at the sight of pink meat. How on earth anyone eats stuff that's medium I can't feature, and as far as I'm concerned anyone who eats steak tartare might as well just walk up and take a bite out of the living cow. That wouldn't be any more disgusting.

After we'd finished eating, but before the Bible reading, I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag I'd stuck there. I handed it to Cecelia, who was sitting on my right so that our elbows didn't clash while we ate. She looked at me with raised eyebrows, but didn't say anything as she opened the bag and pulled out the contents.

She looked at the bracelet, gold in a vaguely Celtic filigree, and then at me. Still without saying a word she slipped it over her right wrist, and squeezed it gently so that it would fight tightly enough to stay in place rather than sliding up and down her arm, which is not bulky. She looked at it a moment, and then at me.

"This is superb," she said finally. "I believe it will be the one piece of jewelry I wear constantly in a visible place." Her necklace is usually inside her shirt.

"Well, there's your rings," I said, pointing at her left hand.

"True, though I hardly think of them as jewelry – they are more in the nature of a part of me."

"Yeah, mine too," I said.

"In any event, beloved, I thank you most sincerely for this gift; I shall treasure it." And she leaned over and kissed me.

"An' with that out o' the way," Daddy said in his slow heavy voice, "perhaps we could get on to the Scripture."

We all laughed. "Go for it, Daddy," I said. "I don't know whose turn it is, but I think you're the right one tonight."

He nodded, and reached for his Bible. He flipped pages, and finally settled on something that looked like it would be in the Psalms. And indeed it was, for he announced the chapter so we could all find it for ourselves. And when we'd found it, he began to read, not well, for his education never got to high school, but steadily and sincerely.

It took a little while to put the party together, since the Johnston family lives all over Alabama, and some in Mississippi, Florida, Georgia, and Tennessee. Except for Cecelia they've all stayed in the south – although if you were to extend the Mason-Dixon Line west you'd find that New Mexico is below it – and mostly in Alabama, but it's still a scattering, and of course people can't just pick up and come on a moment's notice. Cecelia and I, with our money, can do it, but we're the only rich people in the whole clan. Some of the family members are comfortable, but no more, and while there are only a few who still live in genuine poverty, none can just pile into the car and go and not worry about how they'll pay the bills after they've missed work for a few days.

Cecelia and I contributed to getting some people enough gas to make it, and covered rent or mortgage payments or other necessary expenses so that people could take time off work to make the trip. None had to come as far as we had, but except for those who lived within a day's drive of Leanna it would mean at least one day without pay if the boss wouldn't approve a vacation day. And then there was lodging – it wouldn't take long to exhaust the rooms in Leanna's one motel, and anything fancier would correspondingly cost more, and would mean a few miles from Leanna and the consequent gas getting back and forth.