Prickly Pear Lemonade: Hull Crossing Chronicles

By Denise DeVries

Disaster threatens Myra Jean's Arizona honeymoon with Walter Cates, at the very least causing the couple to question some of their choices. Meanwhile, their friends back home in Hull Crossing Virginia are caught in a power struggle between Sarabell Simms and her younger, meaner rival, Lida Grace Loomis. At Jack's barbershop, the regulars debate Herbert Hoover's re-election, the outcome of the battle between the town gossips, and whether or not Walter can convince Myra Jean to ride a horse.

The "Hull Crossing Chronicles" Series is set in a rural Virginia town during the Great Depression. These cozy, nostalgic books immerse the reader in the community and follow its residents as they seek meaning and purpose in their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Denise DeVries
• Release date: Mar 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393780304

Denise DeVries

Denise DeVries is a translator and blogger who lives with her husband, artist Alvaro Ibañez in Virginia, where they are developing a retreat center for the arts. Both of her fictional series, "Hull Crossing Chronicles" and "Key to History" are inspired by the history and rural setting of Virginia's Northern Neck.

Book preview

Chapter One

As Walter Cates slid toward the edge of the Grand Canyon, his wife flashed before his eyes. She had been taking photos while he looked at the dam construction site through binoculars. His foot slipped on a rock, his cane flew from his hand, and he began sliding.

Walter’s old friend Stanley Ashton had asked him to observe the opening of the cofferdam work for the Boulder Dam project, saying. If anything goes wrong, it could affect President Hoover’s re-election.

When Walter offered Myra Jean Evans a honeymoon trip out West, he had no idea what actually could go wrong.

Fortunately, Frank Solano was nearby. The young engineer reached out, grasped Walter’s arm and pulled him back, the momentum throwing both of them to the ground. He got to his feet and asked Walter, Can you breathe? Is anything broken?

Walter stared up at him for a moment, then groaned, I’ve hurt my ankle on my good leg. He looked into Myra Jean’s white face. And I’ve spoiled the trip I promised you.

With a shaky laugh, she said, I didn’t marry you so I could see a big opening in the ground.

As I was sliding, I saw an image of your shocked face when I proposed. Our marriage could have been even shorter than our courtship.

It’s hard to believe that we got married just eight months after I left Baltimore.

And we didn’t even meet until after Easter! He looked down at the binoculars around his neck. I hope I didn’t damage these.

Don’t worry about that. I’ll check them in a minute, Frank said. He was an Arizonan acting as Stanley Ashton’s assistant for the project. With concern in his brown eyes, he put an arm around Walter to support him. Let’s get you over to the shade. You’ll be out of the sun while I fetch our medic to look at that ankle. Mrs. Cates, why don’t you go ahead and take some more photos for your newspaper?  I’ll take good care of your husband, I promise. His white teeth gleamed in a reassuring smile.

Myra Jean nodded, still shaking, and aimed her camera at the canyon, taking deep breaths. Then she smiled too. It was nice being called Mrs. Cates.

~~~

During the wedding ceremony, Myra Jean had felt as if she were standing on the lawn, yet also floating above it, watching everything. The pastor’s wife Bitty Johnson and her daughter Melissa were sitting in the front row with Jessie and Jennie Bird, who had made her silk suit. They were all wearing the Bird sisters’ creations in jewel-toned silk and holding handkerchiefs at the ready. In a moment of panic, Myra Jean realized she didn’t have one. It was too late now.

All the borrowed chairs in Walter’s back yard were filled. Mrs. Meade, the boardinghouse owner, sat in a middle row with the men who took meals at her table. Just behind them were Myra Jean’s former student Calvin Williams and his family. His wife Rebecca had styled her hair and given her the first manicure of her life. Walter’s protégé Jeb Thompson was wearing Jessie one of Walter’s old suits that Jenny had tailored to fit him. He was sitting with a mousy-looking woman Myra Jean assumed was his mother. There were many people she didn’t recognize; they were there because they knew Walter.

Sarabell Simms sang the opening hymn and the Reverend Amos Johnson led them all in prayer.

They had asked Amos not to use the words till death do us part, so instead he concluded with, in this kingdom and the next.

After all, Walter had said, I’m 68 and Myra Jean just turned 66. We don’t need any reminders of our mortality.

At the end of the ceremony, Amos announced a special presentation by Sarabell Simms. The bride and groom sat in chairs reserved for them in the front row as Miss Simms played her mandolin and sang the sentimental tune Oh Promise Me.

Myra Jean leaned toward Walter and whispered, I forgot my handkerchief. He handed her his, and when she was finished with it, he took it back and wiped his own eyes.

Amos then invited everyone to come forward to greet the couple before proceeding to the reception at the boardinghouse.

Do you recognize me? a slim young woman asked as she took Myra Jean’s hands. She wore a burgundy dress and an ivory hat. Her straight, light brown hair was cropped to her shoulders. She had been wearing her hair in a bun when Myra Jean met her on the steamboat from Baltimore in January.

Alice Stern?

That’s right. I see we’ve both changed our hairstyles.

Myra Jean laughed. Honestly, I feel like a completely different person now.

I can imagine! I’ve been reading your articles. Alice turned to Walter. I believe we’ve met at St. Margaret’s School.

Of course. Great work you’re all doing there.

If we don’t get a chance to talk later, I’ll see you at the boardinghouse next week, Myra Jean told her. I’m so happy you’ll be taking over my room.

Kate Meade had offered to hold the reception in the back yard of the boardinghouse. Walter and Myra Jean drove over together and stayed just long enough to greet everyone, exclaim over the cake and try most of the dishes. I know you told me just cake and punch, hon, Kate said, but I just couldn’t resist adding a couple of items. The couple of items filled a long table under the old oak tree.

Bitty Johnson took photos with Myra Jean’s Brownie, and handed it back just before they left. Sarabell Simms left a few minutes later, but most of the guests lingered until Kate Meade put them to work cleaning up.

Amos told Bitty, I’ll walk home with Melissa and you can drive over when you’re ready. She can get ready for bed and I’ll review my sermon for tomorrow.

Don’t stay up too late, Mommy, Melissa said, giving her a hug.

When did you get so tall? Bitty asked. Soon you’ll have to bend down for a kiss.

Maybe I’ll take after Daddy, she said.

Bitty, looking from her daughter’s brown eyes to her husband’s identical pair, laughed. You already do.

After they left, the sun set and fireflies began rising from the grass to meet the stars at the top of the big magnolia. Bitty stopped clearing the table several times to wipe her eyes.

Jessie said, Why, bless your heart! Are you still crying?

No, I think I got some citronella on my face.

Of course, Jenny said. Wasn’t it a beautiful wedding?

It takes you back, doesn’t it? Jessie carried another chair to the porch.

To my wedding day and so many others, Bitty said.

We always thought at least one of us would marry. Jenny sighed and sat down. Flowers, beautiful dresses ...

... romantic dreams and youth... said Jessie.

Jenny went on, "That was a long time ago...

Romance has its place, Bitty said, but don’t you think life has more to offer?

Jenny stood and picked up the chair. You’re right. We have a lot to look forward to.

Jessie took the chair. Stop your dillydallying and day-dreaming! We need to get back and work on our lesson plans for the sewing class on Tuesday.

Chapter Two

Walter and Myra Jean just managed to reach the Jefferson Hotel in Richmond before dark on their wedding day. At the entrance, a porter took their suitcases from the trunk and Walter handed his keys to a young man who drove the car to a parking space. When they entered the lobby and Myra Jean saw the huge chandeliers, she said, I wasn't expecting something so elegant! I’m glad I’m still wearing my wedding suit.

Walter checked them in and asked, Would you like to go to our room for a few minutes before dinner?

Myra Jean had been looking at the lobby furnishings and draperies and barely heard him. ... oh, yes thank you. They followed the porter to the elevator, where the uniformed operator greeted them.

They followed the porter down the hall to a room just as ornate as the lobby. Each of the two beds was twice the size of the one Myra Jean had at the boardinghouse.  Her old bedroom in the Baltimore rowhouse would have fit in this room three times.

Walter said, I’ll just go wash my hands. I won't take but a minute.

That gave Myra Jean time to unpack her night things and hang her clothes for the next day.

They went down to the dining room, where they were led to a table with a bowl of red roses in the center. The waiter handed them each an enormous menu. The number of meat dishes alone was staggering. They could choose from several kinds of fish, or they could have soft-shell crab, lamb, lobster, pot roast, turkey, calf’s liver, prime rib, tongue, or ham. What do you recommend? Myra Jean asked Walter.

They make an excellent omelet. Or do you like lobster?

I haven’t tried it. Does it taste like crab?

A bit. Let’s have the lobster salad. ...and some asparagus?

Could we get the omelet too? I didn’t eat much today and now I’m hungry.

Perfect. And for dessert, would you like a piece of raisin cake, or would you prefer some fresh fruit?

I’d like to try the sliced pineapple with cream.

It would have been nice to toast our marriage with champagne, but we shouldn’t start out by breaking the law.

Over dinner, they talked about their plans for the next day. They would leave the hotel early and have breakfast on the train. The hotel driver will take us, and we can leave the car here. Walter explained. There shouldn’t be much traffic.

I’d forgotten that tomorrow is Sunday. I’m sure we can find an evening service in Baltimore.

Good idea. And we can go to the bank as soon as it opens Monday morning. I also wanted you to show me your favorite library and, of course, Chinatown. You can practice your Mandarin. They had been going over useful Chinese phrases for more than a month. Myra Jean listened to Walter’s recording every night before bed, repeating the phrases as well as she could. The tonal language was difficult. She could hear the differences, but wasn’t sure that she was actually producing them.

I’ll try. Suddenly, Myra Jean asked, Walter, will we have Chinese friends in China? I mean, we won’t just be around English-speaking missionaries, will we?

There are the children and teachers in the school of course, and I also know quite a few people in various walks of life. I can introduce you to some nice ladies. Some speak English, but most of them don’t.

Oh good, I’ve always wanted to have a Chinese friend.

Walter smiled.

Are you laughing at me?

Just thinking of ten-year-old Myra Jean and her dreams.

She gave him a playful slap on the hand. Just wait. I’ll find out all your childhood secrets when we see Vincent Simms.

After dinner, they went for a short walk around the hotel. We’ll make more visits to Richmond when we come back, Walter promised. After our trip out West, we can come to the theater or to hear a concert.

When they went up to their room, Walter said, I usually read for a while after I get into my night clothes.

So do I, Myra Jean said. You go get ready first.

Walter went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later wearing pajamas and a burgundy robe with Chinese symbols embroidered in gold thread.

Nice robe. Did you bring it back from Yunnan?

Yes, and the pajamas too.

Now Myra Jean picked up her nightgown and train case and headed for the bathroom. Did you see what the Bird sisters made for me?

No, I just gave them the silk and the lace. My family has brought back quite a bit of silk over the years, so it’s nice to be able to use some of it.

Myra Jean held up the nightgown so he could see it. They did a beautiful job, didn’t they?

Did I mention how lovely you looked in your suit? Walter asked. He sat on his bed and took off his slippers.

Myra Jean looked away from his bare feet, suddenly shy. They also made the gabardine suit I’ll be wearing tomorrow.

Walter smiled at her and picked up his Bible. I didn’t bring anything else to read. I hope we can find an open news stand or bookstore.

"I brought two books. I’m in the middle of Shadows on the Rock, but I haven’t started The Collected Ghost Stories of M.R. James." She opened her train case and pulled out the book.

That’s perfect, thank you. Walter put aside the Bible and took the book from her, then held her left hand for a moment, looking at the gold band. That ring suits you, he said. She had the malachite ring on her right hand. He kissed her lightly on the knuckles and then put on his reading glasses.

The bathroom had a huge claw-foot bathtub with a gold tap, and several large fluffy towels waited on the rack. Myra Jean put her head out the door and