Dust Eva Everson (story reading txt) 📖

than to burn with lust,” Miss Rose said, and Elaine and I turned to her, our mouths fell open. “Or something like that.”

“What?” Confusion etched along the lines of Elaine’s voice.

“It’s in the Bible,” I told her. “If you’d paid more attention to the sermons and less to Danny Simmons every Sunday morning when you used to attend …”

“I couldn’t help it,” Elaine said coolly. “He was adorable.”

“I wonder whatever happened to him.”

“He moved to Raleigh, remember? Right after junior year.”

“Oh.” I shook my head to clear it of the boy Elaine had drooled over from junior high until he disappeared from the class roster. Even while dating other boys, Elaine’s heart belonged to Danny Simmons. If only Danny Simmons had realized it. “Anyway … you’ll be my maid of honor?”

“I think you’re crazy. You are crazy to get married so soon.” Her eyes filled with sudden knowledge—or at least what she would have called knowledge. Maybe even wisdom. “You know what this is,” she said. “This is you not dating enough in high school. I’ve been studying this kind of thing in my psych class. You should have had more boyfriends. If you had, you wouldn’t be jumping at the first man who came along.”

Not dating in high school—or not dating much—was true enough. I’d barely gotten a date for prom, much less had a steady. Not that I was horribly unattractive, because I don’t believe I was—or am—but more that I tended to lean to the shy side. Elaine said I was afraid of my own shadow, which bordered on some level of truth. Regardless, I knew—no, I believed—that Westley was more than simply the first man to come along. Westley was … well, Westley.

“I really wish you’d come to Southern with me,” Elaine continued, nearly bouncing in place. “You still can, you know. Think about it. Put the wedding off for a year and—”

I gazed into the deep green of her eyes. “I’m in love with Westley Houser and I’m going to marry him.” My brow lifted. “So, please? Be my maid of honor?”

“Oh, for the love of everything,” she said in defeat. “What do I have to do?”

“Get fitted for a dress you’ll wear once, show up at a few showers if you can, and be at the church on the evening of the sixteenth and the afternoon of the seventeenth.”

Elaine pulled her hair over her shoulder and twisted it until it looked like a rope then let it go. “I can do that,” she said as though she’d considered saying no. “But, if you change your mind between now and then, you and I can get an apartment together and you can get your fanny into school.” Her shoulders sagged. “I mean, do you really even know this guy?”

I looked again to Miss Rose for help. “Like I said, Allison. Pay her no mind. She gets fixated on something and that’s that. I knew her daddy was the man I was supposed to marry not five minutes after we met, and we’ve been together ever since.”

I turned back to Elaine. “I know it’s soon, but I do know him. And if you’d had the chance to spend a little more time with him, you’d see. He’s wonderful, Elaine. And I love him like mad.”

Elaine sighed then, relinquishing all debate within her. “All right. I’ll be there.”

I made it back home with five minutes to spare before Westley arrived. It goes without saying that my mother had managed to work herself into a tizzy by then. “Dear Lord in heaven,” she said as soon as I entered the house. “Do you have any notion what time it is?”

I did and I told her so. “Mama, for heaven’s sake, please calm down. You act like he’s Prince—what’s his name? Prince Charles, or something.”

Mama shooed me down the hall all the while muttering, “Well, he’s practically the Prince of the county. Now, go change into something else before he gets here.”

I stopped at my bedroom door and turned to face the woman whose voice would be the one inside my head and heart for as long as I drew breath … whether I liked it or not. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked, looking down then to my favorite pair of slacks and its matching floral peasant top.

“You’ve had that on since you got home from church.” She turned me and nudged me into my room. “Why not put on a dress for a change.”

“Mama,” I laughed. “Westley will think I want to go to church or something …”

“You’ll be a married woman soon,” she continued. “You’ll want to start looking the part of a grownup and not some child.”

“Mama,” I continued in my protest. “Grownup women wear slacks and blouses.” I pointed to her, moving my finger up and down to prove my point.

Mama walked past me to open my closet door. “I was thinking this would be nice,” she said, reaching so quickly and easily for a wrap-around dress of geometrical shapes in dark tones I knew she’d stood in front of my closet earlier to choose the perfect frock.

“All right, all right,” I said, taking it from her. “Give me five minutes of peace so I can change, please.”

Mama made it nearly to the door before reminding me, “We’ll need to go shopping soon for a dress you know.”

“I know,” I said, waving the backs of my hands at her, indicating she needed to move along.

“And your trousseau.”

“Mama—”

“Have you decided where you’re going—”

“Mama …” A flash of light from beyond the sheers of my bedroom window indicated that Westley had arrived, his car gliding down our driveway.

“Oh, there he is,” she breathed as if he’d arrived in a golden carriage pulled by six white horses.

In less than five minutes, I managed to get into the dress, run a brush through my hair, and apply a touch of spearmint-flavored lip gloss. As I walked toward the voices coming from the den, I