The Funeral Dress by Susan Gregg Gilmore Page B

would cost a little more, he warned her, but he wanted his bride to hear the rain falling on a summer’s night even when she was standing in the kitchen, cooking him a pot roast dinner. He winked, and she kissed him on the cheek. The blue trailer sparkling in the sun like a piece of fine crystal there on the bluff of Old Lick Mountain was only temporary, he said.
    “My wife is going to live in the prettiest house in all of Sequatchie County. Can’t you see it?” Curtis asked. The hem of Leona’s skirt lifted in the breeze, and she laughed as she pressed the fabric against her thighs. She leaned into Curtis and snuggled against his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and slipped his hands beneath her panties.
    “Yes, I do see it,” she said and fell further into Curtis’s embrace.
    Curtis pulled Leona to the ground. He yanked on her skirt and kissed her long on the mouth. Leona raised her arms above her head and closed her eyes, easing into her husband’s touch. Curtis stroked her neck with more kisses and tickled her ear with the tip of his tongue. His talk grew quiet as his arms tightened around Leona’s body. He unbuttoned her blouse and cupped her breasts against his cheek.
    “I love you,” Leona said softly, answering her husband’s caress.
    Curtis wrapped her slender body between his thighs and pushed the palms of his hands against the ground.And when he was done loving his wife, he fell back into the tall grasses by her side and kissed the tip of her nose, his rough lips tender on her smooth skin.
    Leona tugged on Curtis’s belt and cooed in his ear, “Carry me inside, Mr. Lane.”
    Curtis took her by the hand and lifted her onto her feet. A meadowlark hidden in the field’s tall grasses flew high above their heads, but its sudden flight did not startle Leona, still dazed by their lovemaking. She moaned, longing to linger there in the nest they’d shaped with their bodies. But Curtis pulled her along.
    “Keep those eyes closed,” Curtis said as he held on to Leona’s hand. With eyes closed, Leona followed in her husband’s path across the field and up three short steps. “Now keep ’em shut. I ain’t told you to open them yet.” Curtis lifted Leona into his arms. She giggled and gripped his neck. She kissed his lips, and he carried her into the trailer.
    Leona took a deep breath and held it in her lungs, savoring the scent of a home untouched.
    “I love it,” she said.
    “You ain’t even seen it yet.”
    “I don’t need to.”
    Curtis laughed. “Go ahead. Take a look. I didn’t spend all that money for you to stand there and sniff.” Curtis set Leona on her feet and kissed her cheek.
    “Oh Curtis,” she said as she opened her eyes.
    Leona slipped her canvas shoes from her feet and ran her bare toes across the carpeting. She reached for the wall looking like real knotty pine and smiled. She walked deeper into the trailer and stood between low bookcasesmounted to the left and right sides of the room, separating the kitchen from the rest of the living space. She already imagined the books and curios she would place there over time.
    She glided across the kitchen’s glossy white linoleum. The window above the sink allowed plenty of light. She knelt low and stroked the floor with the palm of her hand. She had never seen a kitchen gleaming like this one.
    “I love it, Curtis. I really do.” She jumped to her feet and hugged his neck. But Leona turned back to her kitchen and admired her new green refrigerator. She opened the door to find a half gallon of milk and a pound of butter already cold on the top shelf. She paused in front of the stove and looked for her reflection in its shiny top. She opened the oven door and pictured the casseroles and peach pies she would cook for her husband. She took another breath and savored the newness.
    “There’s more,” Curtis said. He took his wife’s slender hand in his and led her down the narrow hallway to the other end of the