get married in a day. The blood test, the license, the ceremony... you can get it all done in about an hour, if it’s not too crowded.”
“Instant heterosexual respectability in an hour, huh? Pretty amazing.”
Ben put on his turn signal as they approached the exit sign marked VERSAILLES.
“Versailles?” Lily asked.
“Actually, everybody pronounces it Ver-sales. Trust me; it’s more appropriate.”
The interstate exit for Versailles was home to only two businesses, a ramshackle fruit stand selling Georgia peaches and boiled peanuts, and the Lazy J Truck Stop, which, according to its sign, offered both FRIED CHICKEN AND HOT SHOWERS.
Downtown Versailles was a scant block long. All the businesses seemed to be lost in the early
‘60s. The window of the La-Di-Da Dress Shop displayed pastel suits that looked like bargain basement versions of what the queen of widows had worn before she was given the moniker “Jackie 0.” Next door to the La-Di-Da, the Chatterbox Beauty Shop looked as though it might dole out hairdos to match the dress shop’s anachronistic clothing.
The only downtown eating establishment was a diner called the Dinner Bucket. “You know,” Lily said, “somehow I just don’t find bucket to be a very appetizing word.”
Ben pulled over in front of a squat brick doctor’s office. “Yeah, it does sound kinda like slopping the hogs, doesn’t it? And the really awful thing is that nobody in town calls it the Dinner Bucket — they just call it the Bucket.” He put the car in park and looked in the direction of the doctor’s office. “So ... are you ready to bleed?”
“Do we need an appointment?”
“Nope. That’s why you can get married in a day here. They’ve got a lab tech on staff whose only job is to draw the blood of the betrothed — no appointments necessary.”
Mimi was sweaty and cranky from her nap in the car. As soon as Lily took her into the doctor’s office, she got to work making her a juice bottle while Ben waited at the front desk to check in.
A heavy woman in a white polyester uniform emerged from behind the EMPLOYEES ONLY door and promptly crowed, “Well, Benny Jack McGilly, as I live and breathe!”
Lily stifled the guffaw she felt rising from her belly. Benny Jack? Mr. Tommy Hilfiger- wearing, Wall Street Journal-reading, Emory University alumnus over there was named Benny Jack?
“Hi, Maybelle. We need to get blood tests today.”
Maybelle grinned. “Blood tests? Do you mean to tell me the oldest McGilly boy is finally getting married? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
Ben glared up from the form he was filling out. “Believe me, neither did I.”
“You having a big church wedding?” Maybelle asked, taking his paperwork.
“No. Actually, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about it. It’s kind of a secret.”
