The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

“Her mama’s sulking about Grady Alexander,” Aunt Hetty said darkly. To the group, she added, “Ophelia is acting president while Liz is in Montgomery, so if you’ve got any flower show questions, you can ask her.”


“And while Liz is gone,” Earlynne put in, “Ophelia is also working half-time for Mr. Moseley. She’s doing the typing part of Liz’s job.”

Aunt Hetty got out of the hair dryer chair and stretched to get the kinks out. “Well, if you ask me,” she remarked, “it’s a good time for Liz to get away, with Grady Alexander getting married and buying the old Harrison house and installing his new wife there.” She paused. “His pregnant wife.”

Alice Ann met Aunt Hetty’s eyes in the mirror. “So you know for sure that the new Mrs. Alexander is pregnant?”

Aunt Hetty nodded. “That’s what Grady told Liz and Liz told Verna and Verna told me. The baby’s due in six months.” She counted on her fingers. “That makes it mid-October.”

“They ate their supper before they said grace, as my grandmother used to say,” Alice Ann remarked.

Beulah went back to the chair where Bessie was sitting and shook out a pink cape. “I don’t think anybody from Darling went to the wedding,” she said, “out of respect for Liz.” She tied the cape around Bessie’s neck.

Bessie put her teacup on the counter and adjusted the cape across her lap. “I don’t know what Grady Alexander is thinking, moving his new wife here to Darling. You’d think that man would have better sense, wouldn’t you?”

Aunt Hetty gave a snort. “Well, my daddy always said that somebody who pets a live catfish ain’t crowded with brains. I guess that goes for Grady.”

“I can’t imagine anybody will want to make a friend of her,” Alice Ann said. “That would be an insult to our Liz.” She sniffed. “And really, we just can’t have that kind of behavior right here in Darling.”

Beulah cleared her throat and everybody fell silent. They knew there was a limit to the amount and kind of gossip she tolerated at the Bower. Beulah—who believed that you couldn’t be truly beautiful on the outside if you weren’t beautiful on the inside as well—wanted all her clients to think beautiful thoughts whenever possible. She always said she just couldn’t do much with a person whose thoughts were mostly mean and ugly, because her hair wouldn’t behave right. It would be all snarled and snarly.

Aunt Hetty went over to the table and refilled her teacup. “I think if folks had a choice, they would’ve rather gone to Rider LeDoux’s funeral than Grady Alexander’s wedding. I did.”

“Was it good?” Bettina picked up the clipper and ran it up the back of Alice Ann’s neck. “Were there many there?”

“Why, half the county,” Aunt Hetty said. “I went ’cause Mrs. LeDoux is a second cousin on my mother’s side, but I would’ve been glad to go, even if we weren’t kin. It was a grand funeral, with all kinds of music—fiddle and banjo and harmonica, accordion, too. And hymns, of course. Oh, my goodness, the hymns! ‘Life’s Railway to Heaven’ and ‘In the Sweet By and By’ and of course ‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘Rock of Ages.’ And then we all went to the graveyard, which is right out behind the church, and after Rider was in the ground, we had potluck.”

“Somebody said there was a lot of food,” Beulah said, combing out Bessie’s thin gray hair. “Bessie, you need to work on your hair, hon. Before you shampoo next time, just beat yourself an egg until it’s nice and bubbly and add a spoonful of honey and stir it in. Then wet your hair and massage the egg and the honey in just real good, all the way to the ends, and wrap it up in a towel for ten minutes or so. Then shampoo it out.”