Lord, for sending Julia from New York City. Watch over her and keep her safe as Julia visits our fine city.” He takes a breath. “Finally, Heavenly Father, bless this food to our bodies and us to your service. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Shug squeezes my hand and lets go. With a clatter, forks and knives are picked up and the conversation begins again in earnest. As I pass the platters, taking a sample of each, I notice that Mary Katherine chooses the tiniest drumstick and scoops only five beans onto her plate. She eyeballs my portion with a touch of satisfaction and sweeps her napkin onto her lap.
No wonder she’s so thin. Oh well.
“Okra.” Shug’s voice pulls me away from worrying about Mary Katherine. He hands me a steaming bowl with pellet-sized pieces of vegetable, each green piece coated with a golden breading. A tangy but sweet smell tickles my nose. I hesitate, then scoop a small helping onto my plate. At least three pieces bounce off onto the table and leave grease marks behind.
I hurry to pass the dish and hear Mary Katherine start to titter. That is, until Shug snaps up the okra pieces from around my plate and pops them into his mouth like candy.
PD, who’s been feeding MeeMaw with microscopic spoonfuls, stops and makes a face at her brother. Mary Katherine glares in Shug’s direction, like he’s just licked the floor clean. Ella Rae giggles and mimics her uncle, but a few of her okra pieces hit the floor.
“Shug,” PD whispers. “Manners.”
Shug winks at his sister and digs into his mashed potatoes with vigor.
Aubie, who’s missed the whole performance, is wobbling to stay upright. “Julia dear,” she slurs, “we are so excited you’re here to preview the Pilgrimage.”
Before I can answer, TJ cuts in. “Now Aubie, I know that’s your pet project.” He turns to me. “There are big plans for ramping up tourism in the area, and not just in the historic district.”
I see Shug frown into his dinner plate.
“Just remember, there’s a lot more to Eufaula than just the Pilgrimage,” TJ lifts his fork at me to emphasize his point.
Aubie ignores her husband’s comment. “When I was just seventeen, in 1965, the city held the first-ever Pilgrimage.” She sighs and clutches her napkin, dabs it to her lips. “There was this reporter.”
PD clamps her mouth tight and closes her eyes.
“It was the event of the century, with lovely parties and so much celebration.” Aubie pauses, her eyes resting on a photograph to her right. I follow her gaze, taking in the young girl in a billowing skirt. A young man is by her side, unsmiling.
“He took that photograph,” Aubie says dreamily. “That reporter. I can’t remember…” Aubie rubs her forehead with his fingertips.
“I get to wear a dress like that to the Pilgrimage. It has a pink bow!” Ella Rae pipes up.
“Shhh!” PD scolds Ella Rae, then directs her attention to Aubie. “Mother, I’m sure Julia would love to hear about the actual Pilgrimage, not—”
“He was so handsome,” Aubie persists, swaying with the memory like she’s dancing. “A real gentleman. And I wore that dress. I still have it, you know, in the closet.” She tries to take another sip of sweet tea, and then scowls into her now-empty glass.
At this point, everyone’s stopped eating. TJ is red-faced, rebuffed. Ella Rae plays with the vegetables on her plate, lining up the okra and creamed corn into a smiley face.
Shug shifts in his seat, watching his mother. I forget about my tingling leg.
Aubie leans her chin toward her open palm. When she does, her jaw misses her hand and lands on the table. The impact makes the silverware bounce and the water in my glass slosh dangerously close to the edge.
“Mama!” PD’s words come out a gasp, but it is Shug who pushes back his seat and springs up. Mary Katherine, annoyed, tries to grab his wrist. Shug shakes off her touch and bends over his mother, whispering in her ear.
I’m holding my breath. Aubie
Shug squeezes my hand and lets go. With a clatter, forks and knives are picked up and the conversation begins again in earnest. As I pass the platters, taking a sample of each, I notice that Mary Katherine chooses the tiniest drumstick and scoops only five beans onto her plate. She eyeballs my portion with a touch of satisfaction and sweeps her napkin onto her lap.
No wonder she’s so thin. Oh well.
“Okra.” Shug’s voice pulls me away from worrying about Mary Katherine. He hands me a steaming bowl with pellet-sized pieces of vegetable, each green piece coated with a golden breading. A tangy but sweet smell tickles my nose. I hesitate, then scoop a small helping onto my plate. At least three pieces bounce off onto the table and leave grease marks behind.
I hurry to pass the dish and hear Mary Katherine start to titter. That is, until Shug snaps up the okra pieces from around my plate and pops them into his mouth like candy.
PD, who’s been feeding MeeMaw with microscopic spoonfuls, stops and makes a face at her brother. Mary Katherine glares in Shug’s direction, like he’s just licked the floor clean. Ella Rae giggles and mimics her uncle, but a few of her okra pieces hit the floor.
“Shug,” PD whispers. “Manners.”
Shug winks at his sister and digs into his mashed potatoes with vigor.
Aubie, who’s missed the whole performance, is wobbling to stay upright. “Julia dear,” she slurs, “we are so excited you’re here to preview the Pilgrimage.”
Before I can answer, TJ cuts in. “Now Aubie, I know that’s your pet project.” He turns to me. “There are big plans for ramping up tourism in the area, and not just in the historic district.”
I see Shug frown into his dinner plate.
“Just remember, there’s a lot more to Eufaula than just the Pilgrimage,” TJ lifts his fork at me to emphasize his point.
Aubie ignores her husband’s comment. “When I was just seventeen, in 1965, the city held the first-ever Pilgrimage.” She sighs and clutches her napkin, dabs it to her lips. “There was this reporter.”
PD clamps her mouth tight and closes her eyes.
“It was the event of the century, with lovely parties and so much celebration.” Aubie pauses, her eyes resting on a photograph to her right. I follow her gaze, taking in the young girl in a billowing skirt. A young man is by her side, unsmiling.
“He took that photograph,” Aubie says dreamily. “That reporter. I can’t remember…” Aubie rubs her forehead with his fingertips.
“I get to wear a dress like that to the Pilgrimage. It has a pink bow!” Ella Rae pipes up.
“Shhh!” PD scolds Ella Rae, then directs her attention to Aubie. “Mother, I’m sure Julia would love to hear about the actual Pilgrimage, not—”
“He was so handsome,” Aubie persists, swaying with the memory like she’s dancing. “A real gentleman. And I wore that dress. I still have it, you know, in the closet.” She tries to take another sip of sweet tea, and then scowls into her now-empty glass.
At this point, everyone’s stopped eating. TJ is red-faced, rebuffed. Ella Rae plays with the vegetables on her plate, lining up the okra and creamed corn into a smiley face.
Shug shifts in his seat, watching his mother. I forget about my tingling leg.
Aubie leans her chin toward her open palm. When she does, her jaw misses her hand and lands on the table. The impact makes the silverware bounce and the water in my glass slosh dangerously close to the edge.
“Mama!” PD’s words come out a gasp, but it is Shug who pushes back his seat and springs up. Mary Katherine, annoyed, tries to grab his wrist. Shug shakes off her touch and bends over his mother, whispering in her ear.
I’m holding my breath. Aubie
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