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Show -11- Peppermint Monday I kicked off my sneakers and buried my toes in the thick, rust-colored carpet., Ma and I had chose it last month on a shopping expedition in Springfield. We'd ordered some new draperies for the bay window too. Our house was a modern, ranch style, and ma kept it nice. Even Renae's mother had said so at ma's tupperware party, and the Todd's weren't in the habit of giving compliments. I could hear the shower running from the master bathroom. Pa must have finished plowing for the day. He always was busy with both teaching and the farm. He worked hard and earned a good living for us. I knew there would be money this year even if I had killed the bee. Wouldn't there? "Carly, suppertime." "I'm coming," I said without getting up. I watched orange fingernails scrape across the darkening sky. At least it looked like giant claws spreading light before the sun sank below the Ozarks. There was a deepening of the blue haze that coated the mountains, and I almost understood why grown-ups always talked about sunsets. If I was Andrea I would write a poem about this. Andrea was into poetry, although I never thought they were very good. I guess she was still learning. "Carly!" This time irritation laced ma's voice and I dutifully rose and went to the table. There were chicken breasts smothered in a creamy sauce that only pa liked, and tiny pea and carrot cubes next to a huge mound of mashed potatoes. "Looks good," I lied. Jason was sniffing the sauce, his face wrinkled in open dislike. "Is there dessert?" Russ asked so innocently I could have laughed. He might have been young and sick, but he was not perfect either. Ma's |
