Where The Heart Is Part 34

"Maybe I could help you?"

"What?"

"Maybe I could go with you. Load your camera. Stuff like that."

"Well . . ." Novalee tried not to sound surprised, but she was.

"Well, sure. Sure you can."

"Really?"

"I'm not kidding. I'm going to need some help because . . . now don't mention this to Miss Biddle, but I've never been to a wedding."

"Me neither."

Novalee laughed, then she said, "Well, I've seen some on As the As the World Turns. World Turns. " "

272.

"I guess they're all the same, aren't they?"

"These were. It was the same woman who got married every time."

"I don't think Miss Biddle's been married before."

"Don't worry, Benny. We'll figure out what to do."

"Novalee, what should I wear?"

"You don't have a pink suit, do you?"

For the next three weeks, Novalee spent her breaks at Wal-Mart looking through bridal magazines for interesting pictures, but she didn't see much beyond the traditional shots. Getting those wouldn't be a problem unless the camera fouled up or the film was bad, possibilities that were beginning to make her a little nervous. From what she could tell, women got real crazy over their wedding pictures.

Then, just a few days before Carolyn Biddle's wedding, Moses told Novalee a story about his aunt.

"Effie, my mother's sister," Moses said, "married in 1932, right smack dab in the middle of the Depression, so I don't suppose it was a fancy wedding. She and her man both came from poor people.

"But it was a church wedding and beautiful, so I was told. Aunt Effie wore a satin dress made by my mother, and everyone had flower gardens back then, so the church was filled with color.

"Well, Aunt Effie's man was killed ten years later in the Battle of Midway. Aunt Effie never married again. Worked as a housekeeper till she was seventy or so.

"Then, when she was up in her eighties . . . eighty-four, eighty-five, her house caught fire. Aunt Effie was at a neighbor's house when they saw the flames, so she wasn't in any danger. None at all.

But you know what she did? Ran home! Ran into that house on fire to save the pictures of her wedding. Pictures of a bridegroom dead over fifty years."

273.

"She died for some pictures," Novalee said.

"No, Aunt Effie died for love. And I guess there's a lot worse to die for. A lot worse."

That night Novalee had bad dreams-dreams about blackened pictures and smoking cameras and wedding dresses burned to ash.

The next morning she was still groggy from a restless night when Lexie called with exciting news.

"His name's Roger. Roger Briscoe. And Novalee, he's a professional man. A CPA. Has his own business in Fort Worth."

"Fort Worth? Where'd you meet him?"

"At the Texaco Station. We pumped gas together. Now listen to this! He drives a new Buick. Brand-new! Still has the dealer's tag on it."

"So what's he like?"

"Smart. Real smart! And you should see him. He dresses better'n a banker. But I looked a mess. No makeup, my hair was frizzy. We'd just come from the laundrymat and the kids were just filthy. But Roger said they were beautiful and he couldn't believe they were all mine.

"He took them inside and bought them c.o.kes and then he asked if he could take us to dinner and I said, 'All of us? Right now?' And he said yes, so we went over to the Golden Corral. It cost him over fifty dollars and I didn't even eat."

"Why not?"

"I'm on that new grapefruit diet. Anyway, guess what. He's going to come after us next weekend and take us all to Six Flags. You have any idea what that's gonna cost?"

"A bunch."

"But he doesn't act like the money even matters. He's just . . . just a generous, kind man. I could tell that right off. He liked us, too. He really liked us."

274.

"Well, why wouldn't he, Lexie?"

"Oh, you know how some guys are. They act like they're interested till they find out you have kids. But he's not like that at all. He told Brownie he had lovely long fingers like a piano player and he said Praline was pretty enough to be in the movies. He just makes people feel good.

"You know, you never can tell, Novalee. Maybe someday you'll be taking my wedding pictures."

Novalee was up at six on the morning of the wedding, an hour before her alarm was set to go off. The day before, she had made a checklist of everything she needed to take, but she'd spent the night thinking of things she'd failed to put on the list.

While she was packing, trying to fit in lenses, Forney called to wish her luck. He was ordinarily a late sleeper, but he said he'd been up since three though he wouldn't say why. But Novalee could guess.

In the past month, Mary Elizabeth had started a grease fire in the kitchen and she'd fallen twice, bad falls that sent Forney rus.h.i.+ng her to the emergency room. And one early morning the week before, she had been naked on the front library steps before Forney found her, wrapped her in a blanket and led her back inside.

Forney didn't talk much about his sister, but other people did.

Novalee had just hung up the phone when Certain came to pick Americus up. They rushed through a quick breakfast and tried to hurry Americus through her ritual of saying goodbye to her flock of strays, whose number was growing fast. She had recently taken in a pregnant cat she named Mother and a three-legged beagle she called Sir.

By the time Certain and Americus drove away, Novalee was running late. She threw the rest of her equipment together, jumped into her pink dress and raced across town to pick up Benny Goodluck.

275.

Novalee and Benny arrived at the Biddle home with time to spare, but the wedding was less than an hour away when Novalee discovered she had left the film at home on her bed. She tried not to panic after Benny searched the car once more and came up empty-handed again. She wanted not to think about what Miss Biddle would do when she found out her photographer had no film for the camera.

But Novalee supposed the wedding would go on, with or without pictures. After all, the preacher had arrived and so had the groom.

The patio was arranged with baskets of flowers; chairs had been set up in the yard for the guests. The wedding cake was ready to cut and the punch was chilled. This wedding was going to take place, ready or not. So how important, Novalee wondered, could film really be.

And then she remembered Aunt Effie who had died for her wedding pictures taken sixty years ago.

Novalee floorboarded the Chevy, followed the directions she'd been given and found the tiny camera shop-closed and locked up tight. From a 7-Eleven on the corner, she got the shop owner's number and ten minutes later, a gnarled little man with eyebrows like steel wool unlocked the door of the Shutterbug and let her inside.

"I was taking a nap," he growled.

"I'm sorry, but your wife said-"

"My wife said you were shooting a wedding, but you didn't bring any film."

"And the ceremony starts in about half an hour, so-"

"Why didn't you bring film?"

"Well, I meant to, but I forgot it. Look, I'm really in a hurry and-"

"You're a photographer? A professional photographer? And you forgot the film?"

"It's my first job."

276.

"Might be your last. Now. What do you want?"

"Vericolor. A pro pack."

"What are you using for light?"

"I'm shooting outside."

"Aren't you going to use fill flash?"

"Well, I . . ."

"You have any idea what I'm talking about?"

"Sure!" Novalee tried for bold, but couldn't quite pull it off. "Sort of."

"h.e.l.l." He jerked a flier off the wall, then slapped it down on the counter. "Dr. Putnam! She teaches photography here at the college."

"Oh."

"That's eighteen dollars and sixty-six cents, but I'll settle for twenty seeing I don't have any change in the register. But then I didn't plan on opening up on Sunday."

"I appreciate it." Novalee pushed two tens across the counter, then took a step toward the door.

"Here!" He flipped the flier in her direction. "I didn't take this down for the exercise."

"Okay." Novalee grabbed the paper and backed across the room.

"Thanks," she said, then she pulled the door closed behind her and ran to the car.

On the way back to Carolyn Biddle's wedding, Novalee thought of a dozen comebacks to the old man in the camera shop, a dozen ways to cut him down . . . and they were all clever.

h.e.l.l no, I didn't forget the film! Someone stole it.

Who do you think you're talking to? You ever heard of the Greater Southwest Award? Greater Southwest Award?

277.

You d.a.m.ned right I'm a photographer! Now give me that film film before I cut your throat. before I cut your throat.

Benny Goodluck broke into a run when the Chevy rounded the corner and he had the door open before the car had rolled to a stop.

"Hurry!" he said. "They just started the music."

Novalee loaded the camera as she ran for the backyard and she took her first shot as Carolyn Biddle, her pink dress floating around her, stepped out of her mother's door and into the sunlight of her wedding day.

"Yeah," Benny said, "but I never knew she was so pretty."

"They say a woman's her most beautiful when she's in love."

Benny took the last bite of his Chicken McNugget, then licked away a smear of ketchup in the corner of his mouth.

"Well, she never looks that good at school."

"Here." Novalee shoved her french fries across the table. "You eat these. I had too much wedding cake."

Benny took a fry, then paused, waving it in the air. "It just seemed so weird watching my teacher get married, watching her kiss." Benny's face reddened.

"I thought it was romantic."

"Novalee, you think you'll ever get married?"

"I might. If someone asks me."

"Not me!"

"Oh, you'll fall in love someday, Benny, and when you do . . ."

"I don't know nothing about love."

"I'll bet you do."

"No. I've thought about it, but I just can't figure it out."