Early Warning

Joe did not understand the purpose of going to church, at least these days. When the farmers talked to one another, they talked about bad times — lately, the way the Reagan administration was doing its best to put that gasohol idea to death, even though processing plants were already being built. When the farmers kept their mouths shut, their wives talked about what in the world they were going to do, and when they all shut up and listened to Pastor Campbell, the only good news he had to offer was about somewhere far away that they might get to or might not, depending not, Joe realized, on following the rules, but on whether God liked you. That’s why the pastor had pussyfooted around Marsh Whitehead so carefully — he had committed suicide, but there was no guarantee that God didn’t like that, because God worked in mysterious ways and thought mysterious thoughts, and that would be the only thing Pastor Campbell could say in good conscience to Sarah Whitehead and those three girls.

1983

THE WEDDING, everyone knew but no one admitted, was very sudden. Lillian had never even heard that Jesse had a girlfriend, and maybe, Debbie implied, but only by raising her eyebrows, he still didn’t. However, the girl (her name was Jennifer Guthrie) wasn’t far enough gone to look obvious in her wedding dress, and Lillian was sure that, as the date of parturition approached, there would be some discussion of the eight-pound baby’s having been born six weeks prematurely. You had to say for Lois that she put on as good a wedding as if she had been hired by the bride and her parents for the purpose, and you had to say for Jesse that he looked happy, and you had to say for Jennifer that she was local and knew what she was getting herself into. Frank was saying that he remembered her grandfather, who had been six or seven when Frank was five, and who maybe was on the first football team ever fielded by North Usherton High School, and didn’t he marry Betty Prince, who was what passed for a cheerleader in those days? Lillian had no idea, but she could see that her brother Joe was more cheerful than she had ever seen him in her life, strolling around the Usherton American Legion Hall in a new suit, grabbing elbows and shaking hands, and laughing.

Jesse was a handsome groom, too — muscular the way a twenty-seven-year-old could be. Best to get married at your physical peak and have a year or so of feeling like you really were Warren Beatty and she really was Natalie Wood, and you could evolve into your humdrum paunchy selves a little at a time. Lillian looked over at Arthur, who was dancing with Andy. Andy had not evolved — she was more like a fly in amber — but she gracefully followed where Arthur led, and every time Arthur swung her around, he looked past her ear, caught Lillian’s gaze, and smiled. Lillian said, “Andy is a good dancer.”

“She’s pliable,” said Frank.

Lillian disapproved of the casual disrespect Frank always showed when he talked about Andy, but she had to admit that Andy didn’t seem to notice, or else seemed to think she deserved it. Lillian said, “She told me her brother broke his leg.”

“His sixty-year-old leg, on a black-diamond slope in Vail. Running the moguls. They had to helicopter him out, and it wasn’t easy. But he’s getting around. I think he abandoned his crutches after two weeks. Andy said that he doesn’t consider pain to be important.”

“Emily is cute.”

“Isn’t she?” said Frank. “She likes to stand there with her hands on her hips, giving you a disapproving stare. She reminds me of Mama.”

“She’s like Janet. She has high standards.”

“Indeed,” said Frank.

Lillian decided not to pursue this line of conversation. She said, “I would have loved to see Richie, and I’m sorry Michael and Loretta couldn’t come.”

“Loretta is calving again, you know,” said Frank. “And the yearling isn’t even weaned yet.”

“That’s very traditional.”

“Very California. Andy is all in favor. Richie has a new job, and he has to look like he’s paying attention for at least three months.”

“Our kids seem better prepared than we were.”

“Do they?” said Frank. “The older I get, the more amazed I am that parenthood is reserved for the young and foolish. Seems like a recipe for doom, if you ask me.”

“You never seemed young and foolish.”

Frank turned and regarded her. His suit fit perfectly, and he still had that predatory look. He said, “The less young and foolish you seem, the more young and foolish you are.”

“If you could give them one piece of advice, what would it be?”

“Don’t do what I did. How about you?”

Lillian looked at Arthur, who was spinning Andy around. She, of course, had a catalogue of worries, but they couldn’t be boiled down to a single thing to avoid. In fact, she was taken aback by Frank’s remark. Finally, she said, “Don’t wait too long to go to Paris?”

Frank laughed out loud in a way she’d hardly ever heard him, and she could not help being ignited into merriment herself. He said, “I think I’ll write that down.”