ain’t fixing to start anytime
soon. Supper will be done in a bit and I aim to finish cooking it without you
all up under my feet. Go on and take you a seat in the parlor till I call.”
The
parlor - that’s what she called the living room. When I asked her why she
didn’t just call it that a long time ago, I was told to hush. I figured she
just liked making it seem fancier than it was.
“Hey
Lil’ Bit,” Father said from behind his Sunday paper as I walked in from the
narrow hallway outside the kitchen. He had both feet kicked up in the recliner
and was enjoying his one day of rest for the week. A pair of bifocals rested on
the end of his nose. “Did the old bat give you the boot again?”
“What
did you just call me, George Theodore Atwater?!” resounded loudly from the
kitchen.
“Nothin’
dear!” He smiled and folded up the paper before raising one hand and whispering
over to me, “She’s got ears like one though, don’t she?”
“You
better be careful, Daddy. You know she’s going to get you one of these days.” I
said and scrunched down on the end of the sofa. They were always teasing each
other like that. “Momma sure wouldn’t take that kind of fooling from anyone
else without clocking them one upside the head with her frying pan. She might
get tired of it one day, you never know.”
“Oh,
she knows I’m only kiddin’ round. ‘Sides, she likes it.”
“Says
you.” I said while looking out the front windows and into the yard. “Where’s
Abby? I haven’t seen her all day.”
“Miss
Highlander and her daughter drove up with a vanload of girls and picked her up
this morning. Your sister is supposed to be at a study session with her friends
at their house,” father said. “I ‘spect she’s doing anything but studying,
though. You know how that is.”
“Oh
yeah. You get a bunch of teenage girls in one room and the last thing they want
to talk about is history, or math, or schoolwork. They’re gossiping about
something, probably boys. I was the same way when I was thirteen.”
“Too
old for dolls, too young for a father to get some gol’ darn rest and stop
worryin’. I ain’t so bad with her as I was with you, though. I reckon I had all
my heart attacks and sleepless nights ten years ago when you was still a
teeny-bopper. Best thing I can do now is trust that she’s got a good head on
her shoulders and knows to stay out of trouble.”
I
fondly remembered the way I’d been as a teenager and offered, “Try to tell her
what to do, and she’ll just do the opposite.”
“Them
boys know I got a shotgun,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah,
they probably heard about it from their older brothers, Daddy. Did you really
have to pull that ol’ gun out of the cabinet and polish the barrel every time a
boy came over to take me out?”
He
nodded sternly. “Sure did. A little fear does wonders on young men that want to
date one of my daughters.”
I
rubbed my thigh near the healing incision. It was still achy and sore. Not much
longer, I hoped, and the pain would go away.
“How’s
that leg?” Father asked, and folded the paper over to the next page. “All
healed up enough to drive your Momma to the clinic tomorrow?”
“I
think so.”
“Good.
Dale and Francis have been a big help on the farm over the last couple weeks,
but I’ve gotta get back out there ‘fore the fall harvest. Probably even hire them
kids from down the road to help out with it this year when the time comes.”
“Mr.
Johnson’s boys? Last time I saw them they were still learning how to ride a
bike. Have they really gotten that big?” I asked and Daddy nodded his head.
“Sure
have. They came over early spring and asked for some chores to earn some
spendin’ money. I told ‘em to clean out Ruby and Zip’s stable and they did a
right fine job of it.”
I
thought about our horses. How long had it been since I even saw them, much less
had a ride? Taking Zip for a gallop around the meadow was one of
soon. Supper will be done in a bit and I aim to finish cooking it without you
all up under my feet. Go on and take you a seat in the parlor till I call.”
The
parlor - that’s what she called the living room. When I asked her why she
didn’t just call it that a long time ago, I was told to hush. I figured she
just liked making it seem fancier than it was.
“Hey
Lil’ Bit,” Father said from behind his Sunday paper as I walked in from the
narrow hallway outside the kitchen. He had both feet kicked up in the recliner
and was enjoying his one day of rest for the week. A pair of bifocals rested on
the end of his nose. “Did the old bat give you the boot again?”
“What
did you just call me, George Theodore Atwater?!” resounded loudly from the
kitchen.
“Nothin’
dear!” He smiled and folded up the paper before raising one hand and whispering
over to me, “She’s got ears like one though, don’t she?”
“You
better be careful, Daddy. You know she’s going to get you one of these days.” I
said and scrunched down on the end of the sofa. They were always teasing each
other like that. “Momma sure wouldn’t take that kind of fooling from anyone
else without clocking them one upside the head with her frying pan. She might
get tired of it one day, you never know.”
“Oh,
she knows I’m only kiddin’ round. ‘Sides, she likes it.”
“Says
you.” I said while looking out the front windows and into the yard. “Where’s
Abby? I haven’t seen her all day.”
“Miss
Highlander and her daughter drove up with a vanload of girls and picked her up
this morning. Your sister is supposed to be at a study session with her friends
at their house,” father said. “I ‘spect she’s doing anything but studying,
though. You know how that is.”
“Oh
yeah. You get a bunch of teenage girls in one room and the last thing they want
to talk about is history, or math, or schoolwork. They’re gossiping about
something, probably boys. I was the same way when I was thirteen.”
“Too
old for dolls, too young for a father to get some gol’ darn rest and stop
worryin’. I ain’t so bad with her as I was with you, though. I reckon I had all
my heart attacks and sleepless nights ten years ago when you was still a
teeny-bopper. Best thing I can do now is trust that she’s got a good head on
her shoulders and knows to stay out of trouble.”
I
fondly remembered the way I’d been as a teenager and offered, “Try to tell her
what to do, and she’ll just do the opposite.”
“Them
boys know I got a shotgun,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah,
they probably heard about it from their older brothers, Daddy. Did you really
have to pull that ol’ gun out of the cabinet and polish the barrel every time a
boy came over to take me out?”
He
nodded sternly. “Sure did. A little fear does wonders on young men that want to
date one of my daughters.”
I
rubbed my thigh near the healing incision. It was still achy and sore. Not much
longer, I hoped, and the pain would go away.
“How’s
that leg?” Father asked, and folded the paper over to the next page. “All
healed up enough to drive your Momma to the clinic tomorrow?”
“I
think so.”
“Good.
Dale and Francis have been a big help on the farm over the last couple weeks,
but I’ve gotta get back out there ‘fore the fall harvest. Probably even hire them
kids from down the road to help out with it this year when the time comes.”
“Mr.
Johnson’s boys? Last time I saw them they were still learning how to ride a
bike. Have they really gotten that big?” I asked and Daddy nodded his head.
“Sure
have. They came over early spring and asked for some chores to earn some
spendin’ money. I told ‘em to clean out Ruby and Zip’s stable and they did a
right fine job of it.”
I
thought about our horses. How long had it been since I even saw them, much less
had a ride? Taking Zip for a gallop around the meadow was one of
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