The Whole Town's Talking (Elmwood Springs #4)

This week, the whole town’s talking about what a wonderful job our new mayor Glenn Warren is doing. He had some mighty big shoes to fill. Also, congratulations to the Elmwood Springs High School Mothers’ Club. Their bake sale was a marvelous success. I shamelessly confess to buying two of Edna Childress’s apple pies and going off my diet, but then, who can blame me? My question is, “How does her husband, Ralph, manage to remain so thin?” Oh, well, it was all for a good cause. I know we will all be happy to have that much-needed tuba replaced. Bandleader Ernest Koonitz said the old one had had it!

By the way, a common problem this time of year is wondering what to take to the cemetery. On Mother’s Day, we all know that roses are always a lovely idea. Also, a flowering gardenia is always in style for a mother or grandmother, but here is a question I am often asked: “Ida, what is considered proper for Dad or Granddad on his special day?” I say one can never go wrong with a small potted plant, something that says “I love you,” that isn’t too feminine. There are many delightful choices. Next time you are stumped, consider a small potted geranium, begonia, or ivy. Also delightful is a multicolored or red or green pepper plant for your male loved ones. Aren’t we lucky nature provides us with so many choices?

By the way, has anyone noticed that the tulips the Garden Club planted by the fountain in the park are starting to bloom? Oh, my, take a stroll, and you will think you are in Holland.

Beauty is important, and its cost is so little.

Flowers are nature’s way of saying “Cheer up, it’s spring!”



* * *





Hanna Marie brought Michael James Vincent home to Elmwood Springs to meet her parents, and everyone was charmed by him. A few days later, Beatrice and Ander gave a big house party so Hanna Marie’s friends could meet him.

That evening, Ander and Beatrice were sitting in the parlor, watching the young people having a good time, when Beatrice turned to her husband. “Oh, Ander. I’m so happy. He seems like such a nice boy. Don’t you think?”

Ander glanced at the boy standing in the other room. “Maybe, but just the same, I think we need to have him checked out.”

Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean, ‘have him checked out’?”

“Just make a couple of phone calls. We don’t know that much about him or what kind of family he comes from.”

“Ander Swensen, don’t you dare do anything like that. I don’t care where he comes from. Hanna Marie loves that boy, and if she ever found out you did such a thing, she would never forgive you…and neither would I!”

Ander stared up at the ceiling. Beatrice knew that look. “And, Ander, if you think you can go behind my back and do it anyway, you know I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Ander sighed and thought, “God, it’s hell to be married to someone who knows exactly what you are thinking. Dammit.” She was right, of course. She would find out one way or another. The woman was uncanny. Just last week, he’d eaten two Hershey bars on his way home from the office, thinking she would never know, and darned if she didn’t find the wrappers in the glove compartment the next day.

The boy seemed all right, but nevertheless, he was glad Lordor had him put that clause in his will. It made him feel good knowing that even after he was gone, nobody would ever be able to take the dairy away from his daughter. He still missed Lordor. More and more, he realized that Lordor was the wisest man he’d ever known.



THAT CHRISTMAS, AS ALMOST an answer to Beatrice’s prayers, the young man had proposed, and he and Hanna Marie were to be married in the spring. Elner was the first person Beatrice ran to call, almost beside herself with the good news. “Elner, our girl is engaged!” Everyone in town was so happy for Hanna Marie. The young man was so handsome, with curly black hair and blue eyes, and he was obviously crazy about her. He was a hearing person, but he had learned sign language just for her.





The wedding was the biggest social event ever held in Elmwood Springs. Hanna Marie had been the ring bearer at Norma’s wedding, and now Norma was pleased to have been asked to serve as her matron of honor. Hanna Marie’s former sign-language teacher came to sign the marriage vows to her as the minister spoke to them. When both the bride and groom looked at each other and signed, “I do,” there wasn’t a dry eye in the church.

At the reception, the couple danced the first dance, and he was so tender with her. Elner Shimfissle was sitting with Beatrice and Ander at the bride’s table when Beatrice said, “My poor darling, she can’t even hear the music at her own wedding.”

Elner said, “Oh, but look how happy she is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier bride.”

Ander beamed. “You’re right, Elner. And that’s all that matters. I want my girl to be happy.”

As Ida then reported in her column, “The wedding was like the perfect ending of a fairy tale, where the princess marries her Prince Charming and they live happily ever after.”



RIGHT AFTER THEY WERE MARRIED, and thanks to a generous gift from his new father-in-law, Michael and Hanna Marie sailed to Europe for an extended honeymoon trip. When he purchased the tickets, Ander had thought it was a swell idea for a family trip, but when he told Beatrice, she had not agreed.

“No, Ander, we cannot go on their honeymoon with them.”

“Why not? We’d all have our own rooms.”

Beatrice had compromised with Ander and agreed that they could at least go as far as New York to see them off. That day, as the large ship’s horns blew, preparing to sail, Ander and Beatrice stood on the dock covered with confetti, waving goodbye, and, as usual, it was Ander who became emotional.



ON THE THIRD NIGHT out at sea, in the grand dining room, a wealthy widow and a five-time divorcée who’d made the crossing many times before sat at their usual table observing the view and listening to the orchestra. When she noticed Michael and Hanna Marie, the widow asked her friend, who knew everything about everybody, “Who’s that lovely young couple on the dance floor? I’ve not seen them before.”

“No,” said her friend. “Me neither. Their name is Vincent. Word has it that her daddy owns a big dairy somewhere in the Middle West.”

“Ahh…And who is he?”

“Just her husband is all I know, but someone overheard him telling the purser that his wife is completely deaf and to please address everything to him.”

“Oh, no. And such a beautiful girl.”

“And evidently such a rich girl,” said her friend.

She watched for a moment, then said, “Wait a minute, Claudia. How can she dance like that if she’s deaf?”

“I don’t know. He leads and she follows, I guess. Look at her. She’s so graceful, so slender, so stylish. They may be from the Midwest, but that dress definitely is not.”

“No, definitely not. Look at the way she looks at him—like he just hung the moon.”

The divorcée took another spoonful of her parfait. “She’ll get over that in a hurry, trust me. You never know a man until you live with one, and I should know.”

Just then a singer in a tuxedo stepped up to the microphone and sang:

“Are the stars out tonight

I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright

’cause I only have eyes for you, dear.”



Fannie Flagg's books