The Book of Bright Ideas Page 8

  “Crissakes, Jewel, I told you! I worked on Ma’s house for a couple of hours, then I went to Marty’s for a few beers. I work my ass off all week long. I don’t see what’s so goddamn wrong about me having a few beers with the guys.”

  “A couple of hours? Don’t give me that, Reece. I saw your truck head to town at nine o’clock. You were at Freeda’s earlier in the day, when Verdella came by to use the phone, but you weren’t there when I ran over to tell Freeda about Marty’s phone call. God knows where you were then, but you must have gone back before you went back to town.”

  “What to hell’s your point? And since when do I have to hand in a time card at the end of each day?”

  I switched on the little lamp on my nightstand and tipped my head backward. Above me were the two white-framed pictures that hung on my pink wall. In one picture, Little Bo Peep looked for her sheep, her mouth a pink circle of worry. In the other frame were her sheep, all topsy-turvy too, as they ran away from her. I wondered if they were running away because she couldn’t cook eggs without burning them and because she was always harping at them about where they were.

  “I went to help Rudy with the tractor. For crissakes, Jewel. I wasn’t at Ma’s house the whole day, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  When Ma and Daddy argued, Ma’s words were sharp like a crack of lightning, only not as loud. Daddy’s were more like thunder, low and rumbly. I pulled the edges of my pillow up and folded them over my ears. It only helped a little, though, because Daddy got louder, and then Ma got louder.

  “You weren’t there this afternoon. But that’s not even the point, Reece. The point is, you didn’t come home, when I specifically asked you to. You knew Stella was coming. How do you think that looked to my sister, when you didn’t bother to come home to say hello to her? I said you’d be here.”

  “To tell you the truth, I really don’t give a shit what it looks like to Stella, snooty bitch that she is.”

  “I put up with your relatives, Reece. You could do me the same favor, instead of running off to chase anything in skirts.”

  “Jesus,” Daddy said. “Here we go again! I’ve never had a thing to do with another woman since the day we got married, but you accuse me of it practically every goddamn day.”

  “Lower your voice,” Ma snapped. “You’ll wake Evelyn.” Then Ma went on and on about him not being home when Stella came, her voice quieter, so that I couldn’t hear the words, just the rise and fall of them.

  Daddy didn’t say no more. Ma called his name when she was done harping, but he didn’t answer her with words, only snores.

  I heard their door open and close, so I took the pillow away from my ears and listened. The bathroom door opened and closed. I thought I heard Ma crying, but I told myself I was imagining that, because Ma never cried.

  Before I’d gone to bed, I knew Ma was upset with Daddy. She kept looking at the clock as we ate the supper Aunt Stella hadn’t eaten, and she hardly touched her plate. She was standing by the window when I went to bed, her long arms wrapped so tight around her middle that they could have gone around her twice.

  After I heard Ma leave the bathroom, I waited for the sound of their bedroom door opening and closing, but it never came. I tried to get right back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t seem to do nothing but think about the day.

  Ma had left the clothes I was supposed to wear for Aunt Stella’s visit on my bed. She’d told me to come show her once I was dressed.

  She’d laid out my best dress. The pink one that was made of those kinds of material that make you feel sweaty and hot if you wear them in the summertime and sweaty and cold if you wear them in the winter. The one with a slippery, stuck-on pink slip underneath and that see-through stuff over it, the skirt pressed into wide pleats. Next to the dress was a pink bow with a bobby pin stuck through it, to slide into my knots. A pair of new white anklets with lace trim was laid next to the bow, and my black patent-leather shoes were on the floor next to my bed. I had dressed quickly, trying my best not to think of Winnalee in Dr. Williams’s office, him sewing on her as if she was made of taffeta instead of skin.

  When I was dressed, I went to show Ma, like she told me to. She was at the table, moving the centerpiece—a basket of wax fruit—a bit more in the middle. “Just a minute,” she said. Ma was wearing her best dress too. One she sewed herself. It looked pretty much like all the other dresses she wore, but it was made of softer, nicer material. Ma put two stubby candles on each side of the fruit bowl, then cocked her head all over again. “There!” she said, when she got it just right.

  Ma looked at me and cocked her head some more. Then she swirled her finger, so I’d turn in circles. When I got all the way around, she came to me and retucked the bow into my knots. She smiled—as if she thought I looked pretty—then she told me to go sit down and wait.

  The whole house had too many smells: Pine-Sol, Pledge, shortcake, garlic, and a bunch more I couldn’t name. The smells were so strong they made my nose sting inside.

  By the time Aunt Stella pulled into the driveway, my belly was hungry, and I was sweaty and itchy. Ma tugged her apron off and dashed into the kitchen to put it away. She was back by the time the doorbell rang. Ma blew out air, patted her hair in place, and put a smile on her face. “Stella!” she said as she swung the door open. They kissed each other on the cheek.

  Ma talked fast as she led Aunt Stella into the living room. She looked at me, and I knew it was time to stand up. “Hello, Aunt Stella.”

  “Hello, Evelyn.” Aunt Stella’s eyes raked over me, from the top of my ugly head to the tip of my glossy shoes. “My, look at how dressed up you two are. Do you have a program of some kind today, Evelyn?” I bit at the inside of my mouth and shook my head.

  She turned back to Ma. “My Cindy never went through an awkward age. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “How are Cindy and Judy, anyway?” Ma asked in a voice that sounded more like a little girl’s voice than my ma’s voice. “Here, have a seat,” Ma said, motioning to our best chair.

  Aunt Stella sat down and set her purse down next to her feet. “Oh, marvelous! They’re both still in dance class. Still both straight-A students. Judy just finished the tenth grade, and Cindy will be a freshman next fall. Oh, I think I brought pictures along. Let me see.” Aunt Stella always wondered if she’d brought pictures along, even though she hadn’t ever forgotten them. Aunt Stella scooped up her purse and rummaged through it.

  “I’ll go check on our dinner while you look,” Ma said. “I found a wonderful recipe in Good Housekeeping. I hope it tastes as good as it looks! Reece should be home any minute. Coffee?”

  “Oh, don’t set a place for me, Jewel,” Aunt Stella called out. “Martha is expecting me, and knowing her, she spent the whole day cooking. She’d be hurt if I didn’t eat. I’ll have coffee, though.”

  Aunt Stella handed me the pictures since Ma was still in the kitchen.

  Even though the pictures were black and white, I could tell that their dancing dresses were as pretty as their faces. Judy’s long hair had a cloth headband in it, and it curled up at her shoulders. Cindy’s hair was braided on the sides, and two long curls hung from a bow behind each ear. They were fake curls, I knew, because I’d seen Aunt Stella make them when they spent the night at our house once, a long, long time ago. She had pressed long strips of torn bedsheets along her finger, then wound the hair around it and tied the rag to keep the hair in a loop. The hair looked real pretty when she first took out the rag curlers, but by afternoon the curls were drooping down their backs. I remembered too, that Cindy and Judy spent most of the day sitting on the steps, whispering into each other’s ears.

  When Ma looked at their pictures, Aunt Stella said, “These were taken at their dance recital in May. Can you imagine how proud Ma would have been of them both? Remember how she always said that I should have been a dancer? Of course, there weren’t dance classes in town then, which was probably good for you. Remember how klutzy you were as a girl, J
ewel? All legs and arms. Twenty feet of them!” She stopped to laugh. “Good heavens, you were at your adult height by what? Eleven years old? Of course, not that you would have taken a dance class had there been one in town anyway, being the tomboy you were. Even into your teens.” Aunt Stella looked over at me. “Poor Ma used to worry about you so! I always said I’d marry a Baptist minister, just like Daddy, and Ma was sure happy as could be when I did. But you, she didn’t care who you married, as long as you found someone! I think she was afraid you’d be an old maid all your life. Remember when she told you that you’d better learn to be nice if you ever hoped to find a husband, since you didn’t have much in the looks department?”

  Aunt Stella took some more pictures out of her purse. “Oh, and here’s pictures of the house. It has a greenhouse! Oh, and here’s one of me at the ladies’ social where I spoke in December. I got that dress in Chicago. I got more compliments on that thing!”

  I felt sorry for Ma, looking at that stack of pictures. It seemed that no matter how much Ma scrubbed or fixed up our place, Aunt Stella never noticed. Like the sunburst clock hanging right above her head, or the new white trellis Ma had put up right next to the front door so flowers could creep up it.

  “Did you make that dress, Jewel?” I smiled inside, because Aunt Stella noticed something. I held my breath, hoping she’d say it was nice. Instead, she said, “I suppose, you being so tall and long-armed, you pretty much have to make your own clothes.” She looked over at me and added, “At least your Evelyn isn’t too tall. She doesn’t look like a tomboy either…or is she?”

  Ma’s face had funny blotches on it. She set her coffee cup back on its saucer hard enough for it to make a rattly sound. I tried to imagine Ma as a girl. A tomboy girl. But I couldn’t see that in my head any more than I could see Daddy as a cute-as-a-bug’s-ear boy. All I could see when I tried to picture Ma as a girl was a girl as tall as a man, with shoulders pinched forward and a head with nothing pretty on it.

  “Evelyn is a perfect little lady,” Ma said. “And she’s a straight-A student too. Her fourth-grade teacher told me that if all her students were as well behaved as Evelyn, she’d pay them to let her teach. She earned the most patches in Girl Scouts this year too. Evelyn, go get your sash, and show Aunt Stella.” I hated Girl Scouts, where none of the girls saved me a seat at the table. And I didn’t want to show Aunt Stella my sash—even if it did have lots of patches on it. Still, I got up to go fetch it.

  I didn’t have to show it to Aunt Stella, though, because she stopped me before I could reach my doorway, saying maybe we could save that for next time because she had to get going. “You haven’t even finished your coffee,” Ma said, and Aunt Stella told her that that was for the best, since she still had another two hours to drive and there weren’t any clean restrooms along the way. “I’m sorry this visit is so short, Jewel, but I got a late start. Maybe I’ll stop on my way back.”

  After Aunt Stella used our bathroom, Ma and I walked her to her car. “Well, tell Reece I’m sorry I missed him again. Is that man ever home?” Aunt Stella opened her car door and slipped her purse inside. Ma leaned over to give her a kiss good-bye, then told me to give her a kiss good-bye too. Aunt Stella leaned over and turned her rouged cheek to me. I kissed it quick, because her perfume was so strong that my eyes were stinging.

  And that was it. That was my whole day. Cleaning, then running over to Winnalee’s to watch her bleed, then getting gussied up for Aunt Stella’s little bitty visit. Then falling asleep so I could get closer to morning and go by Winnalee and Aunt Verdella, only to get woken up by Ma and Daddy’s fight.

  I lay awake and thought about Aunt Stella’s visit, and I thought about how I hated my ears that heard too much. I wondered if it was true, what Aunt Verdella said once—that if you put gum behind big ears and press them flat against your head, they’d learn to stay down like they’re supposed to. And I thought about how I’d never know if it worked because Ma wouldn’t let me chew gum, because Dr. Wagner said it wasn’t good for a kid’s teeth, but if I could, I’d stuff some in my ears too, just so I’d stop hearing bad things.

  After I thought those things, then I thought about how, if I had my own Book of Bright Ideas, I’d write Bright Idea #1: If you take an ugly girl and you dress her up in a pretty pink dress, lacy anklets, and plunk a homemade bow on her head, you’re not going to get a pretty girl. All you’re going to get is an ugly girl in a pretty dress, lacy anklets, with a bow plunked on her head.

  8

  It was Aunt Verdella’s idea to have a cookout. She said having one would help Freeda and Winnalee get to know their neighbors, and Ma get to know the Malones.

  That Sunday, Aunt Verdella made some potato salad and baked beans and thawed frozen steaks and hamburgers for the grill, while I helped Uncle Rudy clean off the dusty lawn chairs that were kept in the shed and waited for Winnalee to take her bath and come over. I knew Ma was mad she even had to go to the cookout, much less go early so she could help Aunt Verdella put the food together, but Daddy didn’t give her much choice.

  “This is gonna be so much fun!” Aunt Verdella chirped, as she unscrewed a jar of pickles and popped the canning lid so I could stab them out with a fork and put them on a plate. “I’ve asked the Thompson twins—they’re so good-looking, aren’t they, and around Freeda’s age? And of course, Melvin will bring his wife, June, and their kids. I’d imagine that the other one, Mike, is lookin’ for a wife too, so who knows, Freeda just might meet her Prince Charming here in Dauber yet.”

  “It doesn’t seem to me that Freeda Malone has much trouble meeting men,” Ma said under her breath, as she stirred mayonnaise into a bowl of tuna, noodles, peas, and onions.

  “Oh, and I told Tommy to tell his ma and dad to come too. Ada doesn’t get out much, except to work at The Corner Store, and Elroy likes visiting with Rudy. And, let’s see…oh, Fanny and John Tilman. I guess I sorta felt I had to invite them, since I ended up inviting Ada when I stopped for gas, and it turned out that Fanny happened to be back by the milk cooler. Not that I mind Fanny, of course, but, well, let’s just hope that meeting Freeda at a social gathering will soften Fanny toward her a little.”

  Aunt Verdella rapped on the window above the sink, then yelled out, “Reece, did you guys bring out the tub for the beer? The ice blocks are in the freezer in the shed.” She turned back to the table. “Oh, that’s nice how you laid those pickles out, Button. Like a sunbeam.”

  “Aren’t cookouts fun?” Aunt Verdella said, as she came to the picnic table carrying a pitcher of lemonade clanking with ice cubes and a stack of yellow plastic cups. Freeda, who was probably tired from staying up most of the night or was still trying to coax Winnalee out of the tub, still hadn’t come out of their house. “I couldn’t think of a better way to bring us all together.” Aunt Verdella looked at Ma. “Why, you and Freeda hardly know each other, and you’re neighbors.”

  Before I knew it, the Smithys pulled in, and the Tilmans right behind them. Fanny Tilman wore a button-up sweater, even though it was about ten hundred degrees, and both ladies were carrying bowls covered with Reynolds Wrap. “You’re lookin’ good, Ada. Doesn’t she look good, Jewel?” I guess that meant that Ada had had a good recuperation from her operation. Ada, who was short and chubby, said she’d lost ten pounds since her surgery. Elroy, tall and skinny, and as ugly as Tommy, rolled his eyes. “She’ll have it all put back on, plus another twenty, by the next time you see her, anyway.”

  Uncle Rudy and Daddy were at the grill, turning the steaks over with big metal pinchers, beers in their hands, so that’s where the men headed. Aunt Verdella told me to bring them each a beer, so I grabbed some bottles out of the icy tub and brought them over to the grill. While the men yammered about farming over by the smoking grill, the ladies hovered around the picnic table, yammering about everything and anything. Mostly the Malones.

  “So where are our guests of honor, anyway?” Ada said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering,”
said one of the Thompson twins, who’d come over to the table to set down some still-sizzling steaks. I didn’t know if it was Mike or Melvin, since they looked exactly alike—both with blond hair on their heads and white hair on their sun-darkened arms. The other twin chuckled, then called over the exact the same thing. June, the lady with a baby on her hip and a scrappy little boy wiggling in her free hand, shook her head and rolled her eyes at the one who repeated the words like a parrot, so I guessed that one was Melvin, her husband.

  “Oh, look, here comes Winnalee, Button!” Aunt Verdella waved hard at Winnalee, who was coming across their yard, her ma in her arms.

  “What’s she got on?” June Thompson asked, talking about Winnalee’s pink mesh skirt that was dragging across the grass.

  “Oh, and she’s got that urn I heard about. Poor little thing,” Ada Smithy said.

  Fanny Tilman, who was sitting on the very edge of the picnic table clutching her purse, added, “I think it’s disrespectful, carrying the dead around like a toy.”

  I raced across the yard to meet Winnalee. She was wearing three strings of pearly blue beads, and her eyes were red, like either she’d been crying or gotten shampoo in them. Her loops were still damp and her eyebrows were bunched, which meant she was grouchy.

  When she got to the picnic table, Aunt Verdella grabbed her by the shoulders and stood Winnalee in front of her. “This here is Winnalee Malone,” Aunt Verdella said proudly. “She’s nine years old, and smart as a whip, just like our Button.” Ada and June, especially, started clucking about how adorable Winnalee was. “I’m not smart like Button,” Winnalee said. “But only because I never get to stay in one school long enough to learn much of anything.”

  A bit of worry passed over Aunt Verdella’s face. “Well, you’ll learn lots in school here, honey, won’t ya?” she said.

  Ada smiled. “Well, sweetie, I don’t know what brought you to Dauber, but we’re sure glad you’re here.”