"I get long pretty good, Aurora. As long as the Lord lets me, I want to get around on my own," Neecy told me solemnly.

In Lawrenceton, we were a little worried about the Lord letting Miss Neecy get around, since she was still driving and tended to take the middle of the road and ignore little things like stop signs.

"Now, tell me something, Aurora," Neecy said slowly, and I realized we were getting to the crux, here. "I hear that that young man of yours has bought you the so-called Julius house."

"That's right," I said agreeably, tickled at Martin being my "young man" and curious about what she was going to tell me.

"They call it the Julius house, but of course it isn't really."

"Oh?"

"Of course not; those people just lived there a few months. It's really the Zinsner house, they originally built it and lived in it for oh, sixty or sixty-five years before Sarah May sold it to those Juliuses." "Is that right?" Actually, I'd known that, but I didn't want to dam Miss Neecy in midflow.

"Oh, yes, honey, the Zinsners were an old Lawrenceton family. They got here before my family, even. And the branch that built that house was the last of the family. They built out there when town was two and a half miles away on a poor dirt road, rather than a mile away on a paved one." I nodded encouragingly.

"I remember when they were building that house, John L. and Sarah May were fighting like cats and dogs about how to do it. John L. wanted things one way, Sarah May wanted ‘em another. Sarah May wanted a gazebo in the backyard, and John L. told her she'd have to build one with her own hands if she wanted it. Sarah May was one smart woman, but that she couldn't do. But she had her own way about the porch. After the house was all but finished, she told John L. she had to have a front porch, a big one. Now John L. had already had the roof completed, and he didn't want to tear it up again, so that's why the roof of the porch is separate. John L. just put in guttering between the two parts. Then Sarah wanted a two-car garage instead of a one-car, and though they only had one car, John L. added another stall for another car. And then she wanted an extra closet, but John L. and her had a fight and he boarded it up to spite her!" Neecy shook her head as she remembered the battling Zinsners.

"They're both gone now?" I asked gently.

"Gosh, no, someone as mean as Sarah May takes a long time to kill," Neecy said cheerfully. "She's over in Peachtree Leisure Apartments, a nice name for that old folks' home on Pike Street, where the old fire station used to be. I go to visit my friends out there from time to time, and I see Sarah May right often, though some days she doesn't know me. And that woman is out there, too, come to think of it."

"What woman do you mean, Miss Neecy?"

"That Julius woman's mother. Got an Italian name. Toti-no. Melba Totino." I hadn't known the family who'd built the house still had living members, and I hadn't known The Mother-in-law (as she was invariably referred to in local legend) was still living, much less still living in Lawrenceton. "There, you didn't know all that, did you?" said Neecy in a pleased way. "Not too many of us around to remember things the way they were." "Thanks for telling me," I said sincerely.

"Oh, we old people aren't much good for anything except remembering," Neecy said with a deprecatory wave of her hand.

Of course, I protested as I was supposed to, and she ended up happy, which she was supposed to. I thanked her profusely for her gift of scented "guest" soap shaped like seashells, and that pleased her, too. She got up to go and thought of one more thing to say. "That man you're marrying, Aurora, is it true he's from Chicago, Illinois?" "Well, he moved here from Chicago. Actually, he grew up in Ohio." Neecy Dawson shook her head slowly from side to side. She patted me absently on the shoulder and began steering her way over to my mother. I saw her engage my mother in serious conversation.

Later, when we were loading the presents into the trunk of Mother's car, I asked her what Neecy had been saying. Mother laughed. "Well, if you really want to know—she asked me if it was really true that you were marrying a Yankee. I said, ‘Well, Miss Neecy, he is from Ohio.' And she said, ‘Poor Aida. I know you're worried. But there are some nice ones. Aurora will be all right, honey.'"

NOW THAT I'D TAKEN ON renovating the Julius house—I just couldn't think of it as the Zinsner house—the time before the wedding flew by. I got the apartment above the garage finished first. The carpet was laid within three days after the painter finished the trim. I cleaned the furniture I'd bought, positioned it invitingly, relined the kitchen shelves, cleaned the stove, and made the bed. I'd gotten a set of china for four at WalMart, and some wedding gift pots and pans I didn't need went into the kitchen cabinets. I put towels in the bathroom, hung a shower curtain, and arranged some of the seashell soap in a soap dish. It looked pretty and inviting and clean, and I hoped I'd done Martin's friends proud.

The work on the big house went slower. Some of the workmen I wanted were busy, and the carpet took longer to come than it was supposed to, and I had a hard time picking out paint and wallpaper. I was frantic to have it finished; my townhouse and Mother's guest bedroom were overflowing with the wedding gifts and furniture I'd kept from Jane Engle's house. Martin's furniture was still in storage at a warehouse closer in to Atlanta, and I made a trip there to see what he had. In between making decisions, fretting over delays, and spending hours worrying, I had to get dressed appropriately and punctually for the remaining parties in our honor.

Now, these are all very pleasant problems to have, I know. But I did begin to get tired, and frayed, and desperate. Martin seemed unprecedentedly grim, too, though his bad mood didn't seem to have anything to do with the wedding. So I was really glad to greet the Youngbloods when they arrived from Florida. I was at the Julius house when they drove in at noon one day about a week and a half before the wedding.

Angel Youngblood emerged from the dusty old Camaro first. Her legs swung out and out and out, and then the rest of her followed. I gaped. Angel was easily as tall as her husband. Muscular and sleek as a cheetah, she had pale blond hair gathered up in a ponytail. She was wearing the loose sheeting pants that weightlifters wear when they train, and a gray tank top. She had a broad, thin-lipped mouth, a straight nose, and brilliant blue eyes in a narrow face. She wore no makeup. She looked around her carefully, her eyes gliding right over me and then coming back to note me. We looked at each other curiously. "I'm Aurora," I said finally, shaking her hand, which was an experience for both of us. "You must be Angel?"

"Yes," she said. "It's been a long drive. It's good to get out of the car." She stretched, an impressive process that showed muscles I didn't even know women had.

Her husband came to stand beside her. He looked even swarthier, his face more pock-marked, against her smooth sleekness.

"Shelby, nice to see you again," I said.

"Aurora," he nodded.

The carpet layers, who were carrying in the pad, stopped to stare at Angel.

Shelby looked at them. They hastily headed into the house. It wasn't that she was pretty. She wasn't. And her chest was almost flat. She was just very obviously strong and fit and golden tan, and her hair was such a pretty color. It was really just like seeing a wild animal walk into the yard— beautiful and scary at the same time.