couldn’t have said, but something about Miz Goodpepper scared me. I took a step back and chewed my lip.
Oletta furrowed her brow. “What’s the matter, child?”
“M-m-maybe-e-e you could go with me?” I sputtered.
She studied me through squinted eyes. “Is you afraid of Miz Goodpepper?”
“I . . . well, maybe a little.”
“Oh, Cecelia,” she said with a laugh. “Ain’t no reason to be. Miz Goodpepper’s just as nice as she can be. So don’t you worry.” Oletta handed me the foil-covered plate and nodded toward the back door. “Now, go on, I’ve got to keep an eye on the oven.”
Knowing there was no way to wiggle my way out of it, I took the plate and headed out the door. Already I felt tongue-tied just from the thought of being alone with Miz Goodpepper.
I walked beneath a giant live oak, and found a small opening in the hedge shrouded by a ferocious twist of moss-covered branches. I took a deep breath and stepped into Miz Goodpepper’s yard. Grateful that she was nowhere in sight, I moved along a path that led to the back porch of her house, hoping I could leave the plate by the door and skedaddle back home.
The yard was a sea of living color. Never had I seen so many flowers in one place. Classical music sailed across the extravagant garden. Where it came from I didn’t know, but it was like an orchestra was hidden in the lush foliage. I walked beneath a vine-smothered trellis, and Miz Goodpepper’s house came into full view. It was a colossal monstrosity of gray stone that looked more like a mausoleum than a place where someone actually lived.
I was startled by a screech and turned to see a peacock standing in a sunny spot on the lawn. He was so beautiful I caught my breath. I stood still as he took a few tentative steps toward me, and then he stopped, tilted his head, and scanned me from head to toe. I figured he was disappointed in what he saw because he flattened his top-knot and strutted away.
I heard a splash followed by a gurgle, and turned to see Miz Goodpepper’s head appear above a thick hedge. Her hair was dripping wet.
“Well, what a nice surprise,” she said, wrapping her head in a towel. “Let me get something on. I’ll be out in a second.”
A moment later she appeared, wearing a pale, silvery-blue satin robe and a pair of iridescent pink flip-flops. When she saw the look on my face, her lips curled ever so slightly. “I take it you’ve never seen an outdoor bath before,” she mused, tightening the belt of her robe. She gestured toward a perfectly clipped opening in the foliage. “Come have a look.”
I took a few steps forward and peered in. On a slab of thick gray marble sat a moss-stained, claw-footed bathtub. Frothy soapsuds spun down the drain, gurgling as they went. Next to the tub stood a life-size marble statue of a naked woman with her arms outstretched. Draped over one of her hands was a damp towel.
Miz Goodpepper gazed at her tub fondly. “It’s charming, don’t you think? I call it my secret garden spa. You’ll have to come over and try it sometime. I especially like to use it late at night. There’s nothing more relaxing than to lean back and watch the stars.” She nodded toward the peacock. “I see you’ve met Louie. He’s such a handsome boy, though he isn’t very social. He belongs to a neighbor, but wanders over here quite often.” She flashed the bird an intimate look. “Louie’s a bit of a voyeur—he likes to peek through the bushes and watch me bathe.”
I didn’t know what to say about her secret garden spa or the peacock being a voyeur, so I offered her the foil-covered plate. “These are from Oletta.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said, making an elegant gesture toward her house. “Welcome to my home, Cecelia. Please come inside.”
A warm breeze sent her robe fluttering around her ankles, and the faint scent of bubble bath wafted through the air as I followed her. Louie let out a deafening squawk and headed in the
Oletta furrowed her brow. “What’s the matter, child?”
“M-m-maybe-e-e you could go with me?” I sputtered.
She studied me through squinted eyes. “Is you afraid of Miz Goodpepper?”
“I . . . well, maybe a little.”
“Oh, Cecelia,” she said with a laugh. “Ain’t no reason to be. Miz Goodpepper’s just as nice as she can be. So don’t you worry.” Oletta handed me the foil-covered plate and nodded toward the back door. “Now, go on, I’ve got to keep an eye on the oven.”
Knowing there was no way to wiggle my way out of it, I took the plate and headed out the door. Already I felt tongue-tied just from the thought of being alone with Miz Goodpepper.
I walked beneath a giant live oak, and found a small opening in the hedge shrouded by a ferocious twist of moss-covered branches. I took a deep breath and stepped into Miz Goodpepper’s yard. Grateful that she was nowhere in sight, I moved along a path that led to the back porch of her house, hoping I could leave the plate by the door and skedaddle back home.
The yard was a sea of living color. Never had I seen so many flowers in one place. Classical music sailed across the extravagant garden. Where it came from I didn’t know, but it was like an orchestra was hidden in the lush foliage. I walked beneath a vine-smothered trellis, and Miz Goodpepper’s house came into full view. It was a colossal monstrosity of gray stone that looked more like a mausoleum than a place where someone actually lived.
I was startled by a screech and turned to see a peacock standing in a sunny spot on the lawn. He was so beautiful I caught my breath. I stood still as he took a few tentative steps toward me, and then he stopped, tilted his head, and scanned me from head to toe. I figured he was disappointed in what he saw because he flattened his top-knot and strutted away.
I heard a splash followed by a gurgle, and turned to see Miz Goodpepper’s head appear above a thick hedge. Her hair was dripping wet.
“Well, what a nice surprise,” she said, wrapping her head in a towel. “Let me get something on. I’ll be out in a second.”
A moment later she appeared, wearing a pale, silvery-blue satin robe and a pair of iridescent pink flip-flops. When she saw the look on my face, her lips curled ever so slightly. “I take it you’ve never seen an outdoor bath before,” she mused, tightening the belt of her robe. She gestured toward a perfectly clipped opening in the foliage. “Come have a look.”
I took a few steps forward and peered in. On a slab of thick gray marble sat a moss-stained, claw-footed bathtub. Frothy soapsuds spun down the drain, gurgling as they went. Next to the tub stood a life-size marble statue of a naked woman with her arms outstretched. Draped over one of her hands was a damp towel.
Miz Goodpepper gazed at her tub fondly. “It’s charming, don’t you think? I call it my secret garden spa. You’ll have to come over and try it sometime. I especially like to use it late at night. There’s nothing more relaxing than to lean back and watch the stars.” She nodded toward the peacock. “I see you’ve met Louie. He’s such a handsome boy, though he isn’t very social. He belongs to a neighbor, but wanders over here quite often.” She flashed the bird an intimate look. “Louie’s a bit of a voyeur—he likes to peek through the bushes and watch me bathe.”
I didn’t know what to say about her secret garden spa or the peacock being a voyeur, so I offered her the foil-covered plate. “These are from Oletta.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said, making an elegant gesture toward her house. “Welcome to my home, Cecelia. Please come inside.”
A warm breeze sent her robe fluttering around her ankles, and the faint scent of bubble bath wafted through the air as I followed her. Louie let out a deafening squawk and headed in the
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