A Wedding on the Banks Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Cathie Pelletier
want to stop being a Catholic,â he had stood in Veraâs kitchen to announce. âWhy would anybody wanna do anything wrong if they canât go and confess it?â
December 26, like all other wintry days in northern Maine, was freezing cold. Vera knocked loudly three or four times before Goldie came to the door, smoking a Virginia Slim and holding it precariously in her fingertips. The way Vera never held her Lucky Strike no-filters. The way no woman in Mattagash smoked a cigarette. Even though she was a Gifford by marriage, Goldie had always thought she was a peg above the other Giffords. It was Goldie who first brought the Jackie Kennedy hairstyle to town. She had to dye her goldish-blond hair dark brown in order to create the full effect. She had even lowered her regular speaking voice to a Jackie Kennedy whisper, but when Jackie married that little Greek man, Goldie forgot about her and went back to the gold-blond curls. She still, however, held her cigarettes as if they were needles. Vera hated Goldie.
âWhat are you doing out without a coat?â Goldie had asked, opening the door just a crack, then barring it with her foot.
âNever mind my coat,â said Vera. âIâm too hot to wear one. Iâm fuming right now, Goldie. If I had on a coat, Iâd set it on fire.â
âYou ainât been here in years, Vera. You ainât even sent a Christmas card up this hill by one of my kids. So what are you doing up here?â
âI come to buy some Christmas tree lights,â Vera had said. âAnd I figure the only other person who owns more Christmas tree lights than you do is Nelson Rockerfuller. I donât know Nelson personally, but I do know you, Goldie.â
âYouâre off your rocker as usual,â said Goldie, and tried to shut the door. But Vera pushed until the crack came back again. Goldie had a shoulder and hip against the door, holding it, a single eye glaring out at Vera.
âIrma told you about that Christmas lights sale, didnât she?â Vera shouted, and pushed harder.
âYouâre a crazy woman!â Goldie screamed. Vera pushed harder still, but Goldie managed to hold her grip.
âI drove all the way to Watertown, over ice and snowdrifts, to buy three or four measly boxes of lights and I come home empty-handed to find out you bought all forty boxes!â
âYou come home empty-headed, too,â Goldie had answered, almost in tears. She was losing her position in the doorway; she could feel her foot slipping, millifraction by millifraction. And sheâd always been a little afraid of Vera, who was a large woman with broad shoulders and a violent temper. Goldie was even more afraid of her since sheâd heard that Vera was in the midst of menopause.
âI want four goddamn boxes of Christmas lights!â Vera had shouted against the wind. âFor my goddamn Christmas tree next year that I intend to stick next to my goddamn mailbox!â
Goldie was sure this was a sign of menopausal frenzy, although it seemed that Vera was always lit up like that. Even as a child sheâd been a handful. Vera was a Gifford before her marriage to Vinal, who was a first cousin, and she seemed much more intent on being a true Gifford than did Goldie. Goldie would have been Jackie Kennedy in a flash, if she could have been.
âYou canât even keep a mailbox standing because of Little Vinal,â said Goldie. âHow are you gonna keep an outdoor tree?â Goldie had asked this question sincerely. She was truly wondering how Vera could believe, after all these years of knowing him, that Little Vinal, aged twelve, would allow anything not made of concrete and steel, and welded to the earth, to retain its original form and location. âBesides,â Goldie had continued. âI ainât got no Christmas lights. Youâre crazy. This is a hot flash, is what it is.â
âIâll give you a hot flash. I
December 26, like all other wintry days in northern Maine, was freezing cold. Vera knocked loudly three or four times before Goldie came to the door, smoking a Virginia Slim and holding it precariously in her fingertips. The way Vera never held her Lucky Strike no-filters. The way no woman in Mattagash smoked a cigarette. Even though she was a Gifford by marriage, Goldie had always thought she was a peg above the other Giffords. It was Goldie who first brought the Jackie Kennedy hairstyle to town. She had to dye her goldish-blond hair dark brown in order to create the full effect. She had even lowered her regular speaking voice to a Jackie Kennedy whisper, but when Jackie married that little Greek man, Goldie forgot about her and went back to the gold-blond curls. She still, however, held her cigarettes as if they were needles. Vera hated Goldie.
âWhat are you doing out without a coat?â Goldie had asked, opening the door just a crack, then barring it with her foot.
âNever mind my coat,â said Vera. âIâm too hot to wear one. Iâm fuming right now, Goldie. If I had on a coat, Iâd set it on fire.â
âYou ainât been here in years, Vera. You ainât even sent a Christmas card up this hill by one of my kids. So what are you doing up here?â
âI come to buy some Christmas tree lights,â Vera had said. âAnd I figure the only other person who owns more Christmas tree lights than you do is Nelson Rockerfuller. I donât know Nelson personally, but I do know you, Goldie.â
âYouâre off your rocker as usual,â said Goldie, and tried to shut the door. But Vera pushed until the crack came back again. Goldie had a shoulder and hip against the door, holding it, a single eye glaring out at Vera.
âIrma told you about that Christmas lights sale, didnât she?â Vera shouted, and pushed harder.
âYouâre a crazy woman!â Goldie screamed. Vera pushed harder still, but Goldie managed to hold her grip.
âI drove all the way to Watertown, over ice and snowdrifts, to buy three or four measly boxes of lights and I come home empty-handed to find out you bought all forty boxes!â
âYou come home empty-headed, too,â Goldie had answered, almost in tears. She was losing her position in the doorway; she could feel her foot slipping, millifraction by millifraction. And sheâd always been a little afraid of Vera, who was a large woman with broad shoulders and a violent temper. Goldie was even more afraid of her since sheâd heard that Vera was in the midst of menopause.
âI want four goddamn boxes of Christmas lights!â Vera had shouted against the wind. âFor my goddamn Christmas tree next year that I intend to stick next to my goddamn mailbox!â
Goldie was sure this was a sign of menopausal frenzy, although it seemed that Vera was always lit up like that. Even as a child sheâd been a handful. Vera was a Gifford before her marriage to Vinal, who was a first cousin, and she seemed much more intent on being a true Gifford than did Goldie. Goldie would have been Jackie Kennedy in a flash, if she could have been.
âYou canât even keep a mailbox standing because of Little Vinal,â said Goldie. âHow are you gonna keep an outdoor tree?â Goldie had asked this question sincerely. She was truly wondering how Vera could believe, after all these years of knowing him, that Little Vinal, aged twelve, would allow anything not made of concrete and steel, and welded to the earth, to retain its original form and location. âBesides,â Goldie had continued. âI ainât got no Christmas lights. Youâre crazy. This is a hot flash, is what it is.â
âIâll give you a hot flash. I