A Life of Bright Ideas (33 page)

“Hurry! Get dressed!” Aunt Verdella screamed as she ran-hopped to the kitchen, leaving a trail of
Oh nos
behind her.

We scrambled back to the kitchen, naked hips and shoulders bumping, Evalee’s head bobbling, the Malones laughing because they thought the whole situation was hysterical, me laughing out of sheer, nervous horror.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Aunt Verdella cried, as she snatched the white shirt off the table and tugged it over her head. The sleeve wanted to snag on her upper arm, so she pulled all the harder. Winnalee, still naked, her shirt draped over her shoulder like a spit rag, was doubled over Evalee, laughing, unable to say out loud what was obvious to us both: Aunt Verdella had grabbed Freeda’s shirt.

I reached for my jeans and fumbled to get my feet in the leg holes. My ears were whooshing, and every little movement appeared to be happening in slow, vivid detail: the porch screen door squealing, Freeda spotting her shorts in the bathroom and shouting out, “Eureka!” Fanny’s heel-clacks on the porch. I bent to tug my pants up over my knees, and there were my boobs, jiggling, pulling, hanging like cow udders ten minutes before milking.
God!
I scanned the room for something—
anything
—to hide them from Fanny Tilman’s scornful eyes.

“Ver-della?” Fanny called out.

The doorknob was turning and there was nowhere to run,
no chance to finish dressing. I glanced at the table—they wouldn’t hide my whole boobs, but at least they’d hide my nipples! I let go of my jeans and they slipped back down my legs, and in a panic, I snatched two leftover bunny pancakes from the platter and clamped one over the peak of each breast.

Freeda was bent over, reaching into the bathroom for her panties and shorts, when Fanny burst into the house, ramming her in the butt and pinning her behind the door.

And there we stood.

Me with my bell-bottoms wrapped around my ankles, pancakes over my breasts. Winnalee gawking at my bunny bra, Evalee grinning in her arms like something was still funny. Aunt Verdella, her face stretched with shock, the sleeves of Freeda’s shirt squeezing her upper arms like sausage casings, and the rest of Freeda’s shirt strapped around her armpits like a rubber band.

Fanny saw me first, and her head jerked from my face to my bunny-breasts, to my groin. I might as well have been Dewey standing there with food over my privates, because everything in Fanny’s expression screamed, “Pervert!”

“Shit,” Winnalee said, and I glanced over to see her holding Evalee out, droplets of pee streaking down Winnalee’s belly and dripping from Evalee’s toes.

Fanny bird-jerked her pointy head to Winnalee and the baby, her eyebrows rising, then dipping when she spotted Aunt Verdella standing by the stove. Fanny’s lips, dry and thin as gray yarn, formed a circle of shock. “Verdella! What on earth is going on here?”

I don’t know if Fanny heard Freeda thump to the floor, or heard her cuss as she got up, Fanny being in the state of shock that she was. But she sure did jump when Evalee’s baby bottle came out from around the door, nipple first. Her head snapped back as Freeda jabbed the bottle near her face. “Honk! Honk!”

Fanny’s mouth snapped shut, but her eyes stayed stretched.
She did an about-face and walked out, her heels whacking the porch floor like a ruler over knuckles. In the doorway was the Ben Franklin bag she’d dropped, two skeins of pink yarn peeking out of the top like boobs in a push-up bra.

Freeda slammed the door shut with a
whomp!
and stood in triumph, a saucy grin on her lips. “That’s right, Fanny Tilman!” she shouted. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen!”

Aunt Verdella didn’t leave the house for a week after
that
one. And maybe she
never
would have, had a stomach virus not invaded the house, making everyone sick but her, and me, and the baby. There was no one to run for diapers and 7 Up but the two of us, and I wasn’t about to show my face alone at The Corner Store.

We waited until Evalee was down for her morning nap, then took off. “She’s going to be there. Sure enough, Fanny will be there. Mark my words,” Aunt Verdella repeated as we drove. “I wish we could just go to town for them—we’d save a few dollars, too—but we can’t be gone that long. Those girls are too sick to care for a baby and a sick little boy. Still, I wish I didn’t have to go to The Corner Store. Mark my words, Fanny’ll be there.”

The store was empty but for Ada. “Oh, that sure is going around,” Ada said when I told her everyone at home was sick.

I hurried to grab a couple of jugs of 7 Up and an assortment of Jell-O boxes from the shelves, while Aunt Verdella walked slowly up to the counter, her purse pushed tightly against her belly. “Ada?” she asked slowly. “Has anything
else
been
going around
?”

“What do you mean?” Ada asked, feigned innocence on her face.

“I mean, has Fanny been spreading any gossip?”

Ada laughed. “When
doesn’t
Fanny spread gossip, Verdella?”

“I mean about us.”

Ada gave a soft laugh. “Yes, but don’t you worry about it. It’s such crazy talk that no one in their right mind would believe it … you two and the Malones stark naked in your kitchen, doing some evil, Satan-worshiping dance with Winnalee’s baby….” Aunt Verdella covered her gasp with her fingertips, but Ada just laughed. “She’s convinced that Winnalee has you all taking drugs now.” Ada laughed some more. “That woman must have lost the only two marbles she had left, making up crazy stories like that.”

“Oh dear,” Aunt Verdella said.

“Don’t you worry, Verdella. Like I said, no one will believe such nonsense.”

“But …,” Aunt Verdella said. Marvin Thompson stepped in the store then, and I touched her arm to hush her.

Ada was getting Marvin a can of Copenhagen while I went to grab Evalee’s diapers. He asked about Uncle Rudy, so Aunt Verdella filled him in. “You wouldn’t think riding on that baler all day would be good for his back, but it seems to be doing a little better. I think he misses running the farm.”

“That boy, Craig Rasmussen, is helping them, too,” Ada added. “So that helps.”

They talked some about when the hot, humid spell might break, and how their gardens were doing. “Freeda’s taken over weeding, and Boohoo’s helping, so at least Rudy doesn’t have to worry about that.”

I set the diapers on the counter.

“Well, I better get going. I’m workin’ second shift today.” As Marvin was going out the door, he sidestepped to let Fanny Tilman in. Aunt Verdella moaned softly, and Ada gave her a don’t-you-worry glance.

Fanny came up and pinned her purse to the counter, standing on the other side of Aunt Verdella.

“What can I do for you today, Fanny?” Ada asked quickly, as if she had really come there to shop.

“I’m just going to get some milk,” Fanny said.

“That’s it for us today,” I told Ada, my voice pleading with her to hurry and ring up our purchases. Aunt Verdella was picking at the zipper on her purse, and I nudged her so she’d open it and get out her wallet.

“Oh,” she said, turning to me. “Could you grab one of those little jars of broth? The cubed ones. They go further.”

I nodded, then almost ran to the soup aisle.

“So, Verdella,” Fanny said, without looking at her. “I see you and the girl are dressed today, at least.”

Ada quickly jumped in. “Verdella, have you lost weight? You sure look like it.”

“Oh,” Aunt Verdella giggled, “as a matter of fact …”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw her naked,” Fanny said.

Bright patches of red that begged to be scratched instantly sprouted on my arms.

“Fanny,” Ada warned, as she took the bouillon and punched in its cost, then gave Aunt Verdella our total.

Pay her. Let’s go. Please!

Aunt Verdella opened her purse and grabbed her wallet.
“I believe I owe you for two skeins of pink yarn, too,” she said to Fanny.

Fanny rubbed the side of her nose and her big glasses bumped down to the tip. She opened her mouth to say something, but Aunt Verdella took a big breath and said, “Fanny Tilman, I’m not gonna explain what you saw the other day. Not only because you wouldn’t understand, but because, frankly, it’s none of your business. Now what do I owe you for the yarn?”

Ada gave Aunt Verdella her change, making sure she had the right denominations so she could pay Fanny, and Aunt Verdella set the money on the counter in front of Fanny.

I picked up our bag of groceries while Aunt Verdella closed her purse. “Thank you, Ada,” she said. Then she turned to Fanny. “And the next time you come to my house, I’d appreciate it if you knocked. It’s rude to barge into other people’s homes without knocking. I would have thought you’d know that.”

I wanted to shout out loud, I was so proud of Aunt Verdella for leaving Fanny Tilman—
Fanny Tilman!
—insulted and mute. Aunt Verdella laced her purse strap over her arm, stood up straight, and headed for the door. I grabbed the box of diapers and was about to follow, when in a sudden moment of blazing courage, I stopped and leaned over to stand so close to Fanny that I could smell her horehound breath. “And by the way,” I told her, “the girl has a name. It’s Evelyn.”

After a good ten days of running to Aunt Verdella’s to take care of Evalee, Freeda put her foot down and said Winnalee had to bring her over to our place. Winnalee was a wreck, and I had to assure her over and over again that I
did
know something about taking care of babies.

For three days at least, Winnalee came up to my sewing room several times to get my opinion on something or other. Once even coming in to stick Evalee’s butt under my nose to ask if I thought her bottom looked a little red. And she might never have given Evalee a bath for fear of scalding or drowning her, had Freeda not come over to see how things were going and sniffed her. Winnalee acted all nonchalant as she told her she was giving her one before bed. Then, after supper,
she insisted I go across the street to quietly lure Aunt Verdella over, while Freeda was at Dad’s doing whatever it was she did over there.

“You do it this time and I’ll watch,” Winnalee told Aunt Verdella, once the tub was filled and everything was laid out.

Aunt Verdella squeezed her hands together, as if to keep them from reaching out for Evalee. “Oh, honey, if I do it for you, you’ll only be scared to do it yourself next time. I’ll talk you through it.”

“Okay, but you check the water first.” Aunt Verdella poked her elbow into the water, then gave Winnalee a nod.

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” Aunt Verdella told Winnalee repeatedly, even though at one point Evalee
did
slip and water filled her ears. “I could have drowned her!” Winnalee cried, and Aunt Verdella had to assure her that a baby couldn’t drown in three inches of water, with her mommy holding on to her.

Aunt Verdella left once Evalee was out of tub, and as soon as she went out the door, Winnalee burst into tears. “I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing. I love her, Button, don’t get me wrong, but this is
hard
. I don’t even have a job right now, and still I’m so tired I can’t see straight half of the time. When do kids start sleeping through the night, anyway? When they’re twelve? I can’t even imagine how it’s gonna be when I’m working. I’d be flat broke already if Freeda hadn’t sprung for the case of formula yesterday. But Freeda’s not gonna stick around here forever.

“Come on, Cupcake, bend your arm already.” Winnalee was almost crying when she said it.

“Bend it for her,” I said. “Just gently.”

“I’ll break it!” Winnalee said. Before I could counter that comment, Winnalee was tickling her under the armpits trying to make her weak with giggles, but Evalee only started fussing.

I hurried to heat her bottle. “You can take a night job, and I’ll watch Evalee. Aunt Verdella will help, too.”

When her bottle was ready, Winnalee collapsed on the couch with Evalee. She was jiggling the nipple as they both bawled, and it kept flapping out of Evalee’s mouth. I sat down beside them and took Evalee. Her head was damp on my arms and her legs were warm and soft against mine. Her faint eyebrows lifted when she looked up at me, then she started sucking, her tiny hand finding my finger and clutching it.

Winnalee leaned against my shoulder. “Look how nice she calmed down when you took her. She hates me.”

“She does not, Winnalee. You were upset and she could feel it and it upset her. She doesn’t want her mommy to be upset.”

Winnalee sighed. “I love her, Button. Don’t think I don’t. But I’d give anything if I could just save her for later. For when I’m old. Like thirty or something. Right now, I just want to be a kid. You know? Pick up and go when I feel like it. Party at night. Have sex again, for crissakes. What am I supposed to do about sex? Lasso the mailman when he pulls up?”

“Geez, Winnalee,” I said, because I didn’t know what to say to
that
one.

“Once you start having it, it’s like a drug. You’ll see.” She sighed. “When the hell is Tommy coming over again, anyway?”

“Tommy?”

“I’m not asking for
that
reason—he doesn’t even like me—I just want to ask him about Craig.”

“Tommy’s haying. Who knows when he’ll show up here again.”

“You sounded disappointed when you said that,” Winnalee told me.

“I did not,” I said, even though I suspected Winnalee was
right. But then, people could get attached to anything if they had it around long enough. Hadn’t Boohoo cried when he lost Hoppy in the field?

“Maybe I’ll call Craig this week and see if he wants to go out. Maybe see a movie.
Catch-22
is playing. That’s supposed to be good. I just don’t want to sit here and grow old while I’m still a teenager.” She sniffled against her hand. “I don’t know how you do it, Button. Living like this. No partying. No sex. No pot. I mean, seriously, how do you do it? Never mind,” she said. “I know how you do it. You do it by thinking about how happy life will get when Jesse comes back.”