“Momma”—Brenda was starting again—“can’t we have just one more? So it’ll be three each?”
“No!” “Momma, you can’t buy nothing for two fifty. Just one little pack of notebook paper’s gone up to...” “No!”
Ellie got up noisily and began to clear the table. “Your turn to wash, Brenda,” she said loudly.
“Awww, Ellie.” Ellie jabbed her with a spoon. Jesse saw that look.
Brenda shut up her whine halfway out of her Rose Lustre lipsticked mouth.
She wasn’t as smart as Ellie, but even she knew not to push Momma too far.
Which left Jess to do the work as usual. Momma never sent the babies out to help,
although if he worked it right he could usually get May Belle to do something.
He put his head down on the table. The running had done him in this morning.
Through his top ear came the sound of the Timmonses’ old Buick—“Wants oil,” his dad would say—
and the happy buzz of voices outside the screen door as Ellie and Brenda squashed in among the seven Timmonses.
“All right, Jesse. Get your lazy self off that bench. Miss Bessie’s bag is probably dragging ground by now. And you still got beans to pick.”
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