His mother was from Georgia and still cooked like it. “Oh, Momma!” Ellie and Brenda squawked in concert.
These girls could get out of work faster than grasshoppers could slip through your fingers.
“Momma, you promised me and Brenda we could go to Millsburg for school shopping.”
“You ain’t got no money for school shopping!” “Momma. We’re just going to look around.”
Lord, he wished Brenda would stop whining so. “Christmas! You don’t want us to have no fun at all.
“Any fun,” Ellie corrected her primly. “Oh, shuttup.” Ellie ignored her.
Miz Timmons is coming by to pick us up. I told Lollie Sunday you said it was OK. I feel dumb calling her and saying you changed your mind.
“Oh, all right. But I ain’t got no money to give you.” Any money, something whispered inside Jess’s head.
“I know, Momma. We’ll just take the five dollars Daddy promised us. No more’n that.”
“What five dollars?” “Oh, Momma, you remember.” Ellie’s voice was sweeter than a melted Mars Bar.
“Daddy said last week we girls were going to have to have something for school.”
“Oh, take it,” his mother said angrily, reaching for her cracked vinyl purse on the shelf above the stove. She counted out five wrinkled bills.
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