"When I finally realized how spoiled and selfish I'd been," she continued solemnly, "it was too late to change things."
There was a sad, quiet moment of silence as Esme tried clumsily to comfort the mother of the man she loved.
"I wanted to make things up to him, you see," she explained. "I wanted to do those things that would make him happy. So," she said evenly, "I tried to be a fancy lady."
With a toss of her hand, Eula laughed lightly in self- derision. "Lord knows, I wasn't much good at it"
"You are a lady!" Esme protested.
"No, girl," the older woman insisted "I pretended to be one. It worked more or less, but it made me miserable."
"Miserable?"
"Clearly, I admit it" she said. "There were days after days that I couldn't even get up and face myself in the mirror."
"You were sick," Esme insisted.
Eula nodded. "Yes, I think I was," she said. "I was sick in my heart. I was living the life of a pure hypocrite. I couldn't be who I am, and I couldn't be who I tried to be, either."
She gave Esme a hopeful smile. "I was just waiting for the day when Cleavy would marry himself a real lady."
Esme's cheeks stained with fire, and she looked down with shame.
"I wanted him to marry dear little Sophrona," Eula said "because I thought she was what he needed. She'd never have to pretend the way I did"
"She was perfect for him," Esme whispered dejectedly.
Mrs. Rhy laughed at her words. "Seems that you're as wrong about that as I was," she told Esme, chucking her lightly under the chin.
"Wrong?"
"Completely, totally, a mile off, wrong."
Esme considered her words for a moment "You mean because Sophrona fell in love with Armon?" Esme asked
With a spurt of mirthful laughter Eula wrapped an arm around Esme's shoulder and squeezed "Now, that was a sight, wasn't it? Lord, I thought I'd die laughing for sure when Old Man Tyree threw that bucket of water on Mabel Tewksbury, and she came up spurting like a hog in vermin dip."
Laughing with Eula, Esme recalled the last evening of the revival vividly. Armon had quickly gone to his mother-in-law's aid, but after he'd helped Mrs. Tewksbury to her feet, she'd taken one look at her rescuer and slugged poor Armon in the stomach like a prizefighter at the county fair.
As their laughter faded away, Eula said, "That isn't why I was wrong about a wife for Cleavy."
"Then why?" Esme asked.
Eula smiled brightly, and Esme noticed for the first time that the mother's eyes were just exactly like her son's. They were the eyes that Esme wanted to give to her own children.
"Because Cleavy's done fallen in love with you," Eula said simply.
"What?" Esme was momentarily stunned to silence.
"Can't you see it? It's right in front of your nose, young lady. Have you taken a good look at that man that you've married lately?" Eula asked.
"Cleav doesn't . . ." Esme sputtered with embarrassment. "I mean, it's not like . . . well, I know he has the highest regard for me and—"
"Regard!" Eula hooted with laughter. "That boy is calf-eyed crazy about you, and everybody in town knows it."
Staring mutely at her mother-in-law, a vehement denial came to Esme's lips. She forced herself, however, not to voice it. Eula Rhy loved her son. No matter how she'd acted in the past, it was clear the woman genuinely cared for Cleavis Rhy. Undoubtedly it eased her mind to think that he was blissfully happy in his marriage.
Esme would not, could not, be so cruel as to dampen Cleav's mother's contentment. Especially since she'd been so cheerful and healthy these last couple of months. It would be the worst type of unkindness to reveal the sad truth.
