Page 7 of Small Town Hunter

“I hope so. The girl spent such a long time on your hair, she barely had thirty seconds for me. And she still wanted a tip! Can you believe that?!” She pinches my dress between her nails. “You didn’t mess it up while you were up there, I hope. All that praying — is it really necessary? We’ll be in church all day today.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Her sharp eyes examine me for any flaw. She flicks a piece of dust off my shoulder before handing me my bridal bouquet, which is so big it trails to the floor. That thing must weigh another ten pounds.

Mama takes another call. “Hello? Yes. Yes. Absolutely not. Yes. Yes. NO. Good. Bye.” She hangs up and catches my eye. “Luckily, the Wilsons are sending their own vehicle to retrieve you. Embarrassing, but we move forward. Remember to thank them, Trina.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Why are you wearing that watch?” Mama says, her eye finally snagging on something she disapproves of. “It’s not appropriate.”

“But—”

“It makes your wrist look fat. And it’s taking away from the ring. Really, baby, with the way you’ve put on weight… It’s just a blessing that dress still fits you.” Mama’s mouth scrunches up. “Take it off.”

Always obedient, I take off the watch and put it in my pocket. It was a gift from my grandmother, who I call Mamie, and whom my mother calls “that old heifer”.

“Since when does that dress have a pocket?” Mama says sharply.

Shoot.

“I added one,” I tell her. “Mrs. Atherly suggested it, for presents people will give me today.”

Mama worships Mrs. Atherly. “What a good idea. But everything that’s yours will be your husband’s. Remember that.Everything.Be a good wife and do whatever he says, and he’ll never divorce you.”

Alina sighs. “I just know the Reverend’s gonna bawl when he sees you, Trina. I can’t wait to get married…I wish I was eighteen already!”

I make one final petition.God, please. I’ve always believed… Send me a sign…

Mama’s phone goes off like a fire alarm.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

I look at the caller ID at the same time she does.

Mamie.

“Oh, great,” Mama snaps. “What does that old heifer want?”

I drop the bouquet and snatch the phone from my mother before she can hang up.

“Trina!” Mama cries, scandalized, but I don’t care.

“Mamie?” I say, ducking out of Mama’s reach. I hurry quickly through the rooms, followed by the sound of Mama’s heels snapping on the hardwood after me. Somehow, even with that heavy train, I stay out of her grasp.

I weave my way through the many rooms of the downstairs, kicking off my heels to hustle faster. Before I could barely move, and now I feel light as a feather. “Mamie, are you there?”

“Trina, my baby,” comes my grandmother’s raspy voice. “I just got back from my Sacred Earth retreat. I had no signal in the mountains, child. My bastard of a son was no help when I asked how you were doing. What’s going on?”

“I don’t have my phone, Mamie.” I dart into the parlor and shut the door, throwing it seconds before Mama turns the corner. “Mama took it phone weeks ago.”

“That dirty bitch. Listen, babygirl, about this supposed wedding. Last time we talked you said you were going through with it. But really, I’m thinking of coming up there and getting you out of it. You just say the word.”

My heart sinks. “It’s today, Mamie. The wedding is today.”

“What!?” I hear my grandmother’s sharp inhale over the line. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“They pushed up the date and took my phone.”

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