Flavor of the Month by Goldsmith Olivia Read Free Book Online Page A

played at the small of her back, her buttocks, down her long, tapered legs to her feet. She felt good. Well, I might not be smart or rich or anyone important, but thank the Lord I’m pretty. Bein’ pretty made Boyd like her. She was just like Momma, who had been pretty. Men liked Momma. All men except her daddy.
    Sharleen could still picture Momma. She didn’t have a photo of her or nothin’, but she remembered her real well. Thinkin’ of those times made her sad. She could still remember hiding with Dean in the red dust under the trailer, listening to her daddy and her momma above, hearing Momma being beaten. It had been a familiar sound, an awful sight, terrifying, but in a way even more terrible to think about. Sharleen still remembered the last time. Momma had come back from the laundry where she worked, still in her pink uniform, her hair batted up under the hairnet, tiny tendrils twisted at her temples, limp from the heat. Old tennis sneakers were on her feet, small holes at each pinky toe, worn by the three-mile walk each way between the laundry and the trailer. Down by her side she carried a plastic bag, holding the white shoes she polished each morning. She looked real tired, but when Dean showed her the tiny pup he’d found that day, she’d smiled.
    Until Daddy had come home.
    Sharleen and Dean had so often hidden from their dad, breathing into each other’s ears, blocking out the sounds of the screams. The gentle hum of their breaths had always calmed her. She hummed now. She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her. It was almost as comforting as Dean’s hand, the comforting rhythm he used as he stroked the back of her head, their bodies pushed tightly against each other. That day, the day of the puppy, had been real bad. She thought of how they rocked in rhythm with their breaths. The memory of the warmth of his body against hers, the fear that was a knot in her throat, now made her moan softly. His hand always went to her secret place and held it as she moved against him. The rocking caused them both to utter long slow moans. The sounds from the rest of the trailer, the fighting and the screams, would seem far away.
    They spent that night in the dirt under the trailer, while the screaming continued, followed by silence. Somehow, the silence was worse, and they trembled until they finally slept.
    Sharleen remembered their last morning together. Momma had come to find them. “Sharleen, Dean. Are you there, kids?” Her voice was a whisper. Sharleen knew without being told that they were not to wake their father.
    “We’re here, Momma. Dean, come on, let’s get up.”
    Dean had rolled over and crawled out from under the trailer. Sharleen followed, brushing the dust off her as she started up the steps. Momma stopped just inside the door, and Sharleen saw her in the light. One side of her face was swollen and red. Her right eye was black and blue and puffy. The other was swollen shut. Dean froze, and Sharleen tapped his shoulder gently. Nothing else she could do.
    “Go wash up, Dean, but be quiet,” she said. “Don’t wake him.”
    When Dean went into the bathroom, Sharleen went to Momma and put a hand up to her face. Her mother winced and drew back. Sharleen had never seen her hurt so bad.
    “Momma, it’s bad,” she said gently, as if breaking news to her mother. “You’re hurt real bad this time, Momma.”
    “I know, honey. It feels real bad this time.”
    “We gotta go to the hospital. Momma.”
    “No, honey. We’ll just ask Jesus to take care of me and the puppy.” Momma took out a shoe box, the puppy lying twisted inside it. Sharleen didn’t have to ask. Momma knelt, and so did Sharleen, who first got her mother the little Bible. Then Dean joined them. Sharleen even now remembered how he looked at the box and how his eyes got big, so very big.
    “Is it sleepin’?” he asked.
    “No, Dean. She’s in heaven now, with Jesus. She’s Jesus’ puppy now.” Dean knelt beside