Gap Creek (23 page)

“You will,” I said.

“I would hate to think he will be disappointed,” Lou said.

“You have married him,” I said. “That should make him happy.”

“You know what I mean,” Lou said.

“I know he’s mighty lucky to have you,” I said. “After the way he’s acted.”

“That has all been forgive,” Lou said. “I told him I would forget.”

“He’s a lucky man,” I said.

The coffee was boiling and I set it off to the side of the stove. The smell of coffee and the baking ham filled the kitchen. It reminded me of Mama’s kitchen.

“I wish Rosie was here to bake one of her coconut cakes,” I said. I had only two eggs, and I certainly didn’t have a coconut.

“Rosie sent you a cake,” Lou said. “I forgot all about it.”

“Where is it?” I said. I looked in the box where the ham had been. There was only jars of jam and jelly.

“It must still be in the wagon,” Lou said. She run out the back door and around the house and come back in with a box tied up with string. I untied the string and looked inside. It was a beautiful coconut cake, the kind that Rosie always made. But the bouncing of the wagon had made the top layer shift and slide over.

“Dear lord!” Lou said when she saw it. “Rosie would be mortified.”

“Rosie will never know,” I said. With a pie server I lifted the edge of the top layer and scooted it back on the cake. The icing was broke and flakes of coconut had fell off in the box. I took a knife and smoothed the icing around the sides like a mason would a joint of mortar and then sprinkled the spilled coconut over the repaired seam.

“That’ll be as good as new,” I said.

Carolyn come to the back door and looked in the kitchen. “Where is the milk bucket?” she said.

“Right here on the counter,” I said.

“Hank is going to teach me to milk,” Carolyn said.

“Don’t you ruin your Sunday frock,” Lou said. Carolyn was wearing one of her pink dresses with lace and ribbons on it. And her shoes looked new.

“Don’t treat me like a baby,” Carolyn said.

“Don’t you act like a baby,” Lou said.

“We just don’t want you to get your dress dirty,” I said.

Carolyn did not slam the door as she went out, but she banged the bucket on the door post loud enough so you knowed it wasn’t no accident. It was her way of showing her resentment.

“That girl has some growing up to do,” Lou said.

“She’ll grow up,” I said. “She better.”

“But grow up to what?” Lou said. And we both laughed again. I felt a little light-headed with all the smell of coffee and ham and bread baking, and all the talk with Lou. I wasn’t used to much conversation
with another woman, and I hadn’t seen any of my family since I got married.

“YOU KNOW, I never could see Mama and Papa together,” Lou said.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“You know what I mean,” Lou said, “as man and woman.”

“What else could they be?” I said. But I was just pretending not to understand her. I knowed what she was saying. It was something I had thought about before. I could not imagine Mama and Papa together in bed. It just seemed impossible. It was silly to think that, since they had all us girls. But I just couldn’t think about them in bed naked and loving.

“If they wasn’t together as man and woman, how do you explain us?” I said with a giggle. That got us to laughing again.

Before we set down at the table for supper, I got some candles I’d found in the bedroom closet and put them right at the center of the table. The candles give the kitchen a glow warm as a ripe peach.

“How romantic,” Carolyn said when we was all seated.

“It’s a romantic occasion,” I said, and looked at Lou and Garland. Their eyes was bright in the candlelight and Garland took Lou’s hand. “Nothing is more romantic than the day you’re married,” I said.

We all held hands around the table while Hank said the blessing. “Lord, give Lou and Garland a long and happy life together,” Hank prayed. “And bless their union with children. And give them work worthy of their talents, and give them the bounty of your love.”

“Amen,” we all said.

“When I get married I want to ride on the train somewhere far away,” Carolyn said. Carolyn read novels and magazines when she could get them, and the way she talked showed the things she had
been reading. “Maybe to the Rocky Mountains, or even to California,” she said.

“I’m sure you will, honey,” Lou said, “if you’re lucky.” Lou looked at Garland and they smiled at each other.

Hank sliced the ham with our sharpest butcher knife and passed the plate of slices around. Everything looked gold and mellow in the candlelight.

“We’re celebrating Julie and Hank’s baby also,” Lou said.

“I don’t want no baby,” Carolyn said, “till I’m at least forty years old.”

“Forty is too old to have a baby,” Lou said.

“It is
not
,” Carolyn said. “Is it, Hank?”

“There are women that have babies at forty, and even forty-five,” Hank said.

“But it’s more risky,” I said, “the older you are.” I felt so warm and at ease to have some of my folks around me, to have Lou with me. Hank had been feeling too low to be good company for the past few weeks.

“It’s not romantic to have babies when you’re young,” Carolyn said.

“How would you know?” Lou said.

“Ain’t that right?” Carolyn said to Garland. All eyes turned to Garland, and in the candlelight his face went red. I felt my own face get hot. I don’t know if Carolyn intended to speak to Garland because his girlfriend at Pleasant Hill had had a baby or not. Maybe what she said just slipped out. Everybody looked away from Garland to pretend there was no special meaning to Carolyn’s words. I got up to pour the coffee and cut everybody a slice of Rosie’s cake.

“WHERE ARE YOU all planning to live?” I said to Garland when I set down again.

“We’re going to rent Cyrus Willard’s old house,” Lou said. Garland
wasn’t much of a talker and I could see that Lou was going to answer for him most of the time.

“That’s a mighty pretty place out on the ridge,” Hank said.

“You can see Mount Pisgah from Cyrus’s place,” I said.

“I’ve heard there’s snakes in that old house,” Carolyn said. She helped herself to a second piece of cake.

“Where did you hear such talk?” Lou said.

“I heard it from Wilma Willard,” Carolyn said. “I heard that when her grandpa was old and sick and living there by hisself a snake fell through a crack in the ceiling onto his bed and he had to lay still all night till it crawled away.”

“You never heard such a tale from Wilma,” I said. “Papa used to tell that tale about one of the Edneys a long time ago.”

“Wilma swore it was the truth,” Carolyn said.

“A snake could get into any house,” Hank said. “Snakes like to crawl up into attics where it’s warm. I’ve heard of people finding fifty rattlesnakes in an attic in October or November.”

“I’m glad we got off on a romantic subject,” Lou said. “You all are as bad as Papa to tell snake stories at bedtime.”

“Speaking of bedtime,” I said. “I know you all has had a long trip today. And you’ll have an even longer trip tomorrow. Whenever you want to go to bed, the room is ready upstairs.” I didn’t want Lou and Garland to feel embarrassed when they went off to bed.

“It’s too early to go to bed,” Carolyn said.

“When does Mama make you go to bed?” I said to Carolyn.

“She has to go to bed by nine,” Lou said.

“That was last year, when I was little,” Carolyn said.

“That was last week, when you was little,” Lou said.

“You can sleep in the room with the single bed upstairs,” I said to Carolyn. I got up and started clearing the table.

“I’m going to help you wash the dishes,” Lou said.

“No you’re not,” I said. “You’re going on to bed, and Carolyn is going to help me clean up.”

“I can help with the dishes,” Hank said.

“If them is my orders I might as well go on to bed,” Lou said.

“Them is your orders,” I said.

“Come on, Garland,” Lou said. “Julie wants to get us out of her way.”

“I reckon we might as well,” Garland said.

“Let’s have a short prayer,” Hank said. We stood there in the kitchen and held hands in a circle while Hank prayed. “We are thankful for the fellowship of our family, and our family in Christ,” he said. “We are thankful for the promise of salvation and for the watchful eye over our lives. We are thankful for your love and for human love. Guide us as we go ahead in our lives, and help us to accept the gift of life and your blessings.” It was good to see Hank in a better mood.

“Good night,” I said and hugged Lou, and then hugged Garland.

“Good night,” Lou said as they started toward the stairs, holding hands.

“Let’s you and me start cleaning up,” I said to Carolyn as soon as they was gone.

“Can’t we wait till morning?” Carolyn said.

“You should always clean up a kitchen before going to bed,” I said.

“I can help,” Hank said.

“We will all help,” I said. I gathered up the knives and forks and spoons and plates and cups and made as much noise as I could scraping the plates into the slop bucket and putting leftovers in the bread safe. I made even more noise going out for water to boil in the kettle.

When the water was boiling, we formed a line. I plunged the dirty bowls and dishes into the pan of hot soapy water and scrubbed
them with a rag. Then I passed a suds-covered plate to Hank, who rinsed it by pouring water from the dipper over it into the second dishpan. Hank handed the dripping plate to Carolyn, who rubbed it with a towel and set it on the counter. As she waited for a plate to be handed to her, Carolyn stood with one hand on her hip, like she was bored. I ground the spoons and knives and forks on the bottom of the dishpan, making them rumble and rattle.

“I don’t see why we have to do everything right now,” Carolyn said.

“Everything will be clean and fresh in the morning,” Hank said and glanced up at the ceiling. Then he looked at me and grinned. It had been weeks since I had seen him grin.

“It’s hard to sleep knowing you have a kitchen full of dirty dishes,” I said.

“That wouldn’t keep me from sleeping,” Carolyn said.

“It’s hard to rest if you ain’t done your work,” I said.

“When I get married I’m going to have a servant to wash dishes,” Carolyn said.

“In that case you won’t need to worry,” I said and giggled.

We washed every single cup and saucer, bowl and fork and spoon. I took a wet rag and wiped the table and counter. “Would you sweep the floor?” I said to Carolyn.

“You can sweep the floor and I will mop,” Hank said.

“I never heard of mopping the floor in the middle of the night,” Carolyn said.

“You will sleep better, knowing the floor’s clean,” I said. I took a damp cloth and wiped off the shelves in the kitchen.

“You never used to work in the kitchen at home,” Carolyn said.

“Didn’t need to,” I said. “Rosie and Mama done it all.”

When we was done and the kitchen was sparkling, there was nothing to do but go into the living room. There was still a fire in the fireplace and Hank throwed on some more sticks.

“What we need now is popcorn,” I said.

“Too bad there’s no popcorn in the house,” Hank said. The wind had rose and rattled in the eaves and at the windows.

“Mama sent a bunch of popcorn,” Carolyn said.

“She did?” I said. “Where is it?”

“In a jar, in the box,” Carolyn said.

I run to look in the box in the kitchen and sure enough, one of the jars I figured was jam or preserves was filled with popcorn. “Mama thinks of everything,” I said.

I got a pan and salt shaker from the kitchen, and a lid for the pan. After I poured corn in the pan, Hank held it over the fire. For a long time the pan was quiet. As he shook the pan you could hear the seeds rattle around inside.

“Maybe the popcorn is too old,” Carolyn said.

“Takes a while to heat up,” Hank said. Suddenly there was a plunk in the pan.

“We’ll get at least one kernel to eat,” Hank said. There was a ping on the lid, and then another. Then two more little explosions, and a pause. And suddenly it sounded like a string of firecrackers going off in the pan, chattering on and on.

“Glory be,” I said.

“I’m too full to eat popcorn,” Carolyn said.

AFTER LOU AND Garland left the next morning in the wagon for Greenville, I asked Carolyn what she wanted to do while she stayed with us. I was determined to treat her not only as my little sister but as a guest. She was growing up, and it was time to treat her like she was growing up. Because I had usually worked outside at home, and because I had always thought she was spoiled, I’d never made friends with Carolyn the way I was friends with Lou and Rosie. It was time to become friends with her, if I was ever going to, while she was visiting us, and while she was still young.

“What would you like to do for the next week?” I said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What is there to do on Gap Creek?”

“We could start a quilt,” I said. “There’s an old frame upstairs.”

“I don’t like to sew,” Carolyn said. “Every time I use a needle I prick my finger.”

“You could wear a thimble,” I said.

“Too boring,” Carolyn said. She was at the age to belittle everything somebody else suggested or praised. I could remember being that way myself, though not as bad as Carolyn. It’s a way of showing people that you have your own mind, that you will not be pushed around, or too easy to please. I was going to act like a mother and not be put off by Carolyn’s contrariness. It would be good practice.

“We can go down to the store,” I said.

“Would we have to walk?” Carolyn said.

“It’s not even two miles,” I said.

“I need to rest up from the awful trip down here,” Carolyn said. “I’m sore all over from being banged around in that old wagon.”

“The Pooles have a mighty handsome grandson,” I said.

“Who are the Pooles?” Carolyn said.

“They run the store at the crossroads,” I said. “Their grandson is named Charles, I think. And there is other boys in the community too.”

“I bet they all have pimples on their faces,” Carolyn said.