The Moonshiner's Daughter. Donna Everhart
She waved her hand, and said, “I know what you and your family think of his family. But listen, he’s been to the house a few times, and he’s been real nice to me. Ain’t you ever noticed how handsome he is?”
The words came fast because she was excited, but I’d heard enough over the years to know anything a Murry said or did, no matter what others might think, couldn’t be trusted. Not one bit.
“When did he start coming over?”
She said, “Him and Zeb, they’ve been in the same grade all along, but never really talked until this year. They’ve got some classes together, so I guess they’re friends now.”
“Oh.”
“I think you’ve got’em all wrong, Jessie.”
“You can have your opinions, I reckon.”
She played with a button on her blouse, then said, “Willie said y’all tried to run them off the road.”
Growing angrier, I said, “I thought it was Zeb who told you?”
My head felt like Uncle Virgil’s must when he’d had too much to drink. Like it was about to pop. It was just like a Murry to turn it around. Fitting. Bunch of liars, they were that.
“Well. I overheard Willie telling Zeb.”
“And you believe him? That says a lot.”
She jumped up and said, “Well, fine, I guess I’ll go since you’re so cranky. I’ll see you at school?”
I shrugged.
“Jessie?”
“Yeah? ”
“Is there anything you need?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look . . . like maybe you could use some help.”
“I’m fine.”
She stood by the door and then focused on scratching at a peeled spot on the woodwork.
She said, “Our church gets stuff, donations like clothes. I could bring you some.”
Mortified, I said, “No!”
“Why not? It ain’t but a dress, maybe a skirt or two; all of it looks brand-new. I’ve noticed you always wearing the same old stuff. Ain’t your daddy giving you money for such?”
“He’s tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I ain’t taking none of that shine money to buy nothing.”
Aubrey said, “Daddy would say that’s commendable, but you got to have something decent to wear.”
I clutched at my shabby housecoat, pulling it tight again.
“If you want me to bring them, I will. It would all fit; I’m sure of it.”
I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of the Whitakers’ charity cases, but Aubrey could be like one of them little old Feist dogs, tenacious and stubborn to a fault. It would at least keep the school from sending home any more notes about my attire.
I gave in, and said, “Okay, fine.”
Aubrey looked pleased I’d accepted her offer, self-satisfied, like she’d taken in a starving cat.
“I’ll bring everything tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
She left, almost skipping to her car. She waved, but I didn’t return the gesture. Aubrey had every reason to be cheerful and happy. Her life appeared very different from mine, upright and proper. I didn’t bother watching her leave. I went to Merritt’s room, curious if he’d heard anything we’d talked about, but he was asleep. I went into the kitchen where the basket of cookies sat innocently. No, no, no. Don’t undo what you’ve done. I made myself go to my room and sat on the bed. I was tired, and convinced young as I was, I ought not to feel so old.
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