“Since I ain't getting anything new, could Leslie go to church with us?” “That girl?”
He could see his mother rooting around in her head for a good reason to say no.
“She don't dress right.” “Momma!”—his voice sounded as prissy as Ellie's— “Leslie's got dresses. She got hundreds of them.”
His mother's thin face drooped. She bit the outside of her bottom lip in a way Joyce Ann sometimes did,
and spoke so softly Jess could hardly hear her. “I don't want no one poking up their nose at my family.”
Jess wanted to put his arm around her the way he put it around May Belle when she was in need of comfort.
“She don't poke her nose up at you, Momma. Honest.” His mother sighed. “Well, if she'll look decent....”
Leslie looked decent. Her hair was kind of slicked down, and she wore a navy-blue jumper over a blouse with tiny old-fashioned-looking flowers.
At the bottom of her red knee socks were a pair of shiny brown leather shoes that Jess had never seen before
as Leslie always wore sneakers like the rest of the kids in Lark Creek.
Even her manner was decent. Her usual sparkle was toned way down, and she said “Yes’m” and “No’m” to his mother
just as though she were aware of Mrs. Aaron's dread of disrespect. Jess knew how hard Leslie must be trying, for Leslie didn't say “ma'am” naturally.
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