Skip Rock Shallows by Jan Watson Read Free Book Online Page B

come every Wednesday for the tea and crumpets?”
    Lilly forced a slow breath. If the doctor was making weekly calls, this case didn’t sound emergent. “It’s nearly dark. If you give me directions, I’ll come and see your aunt tomorrow.”
    Confusion clouded Armina’s thin face. “But tomorrow’s Thursday.”
    “Yes . . . so?”
    “Aunt Orie expects her doctoring on Wednesday.”
    “I’m sorry, but tomorrow’s the best I can do.”
    A sudden wind stirred their skirts and sent Armina’s apron flapping. Holding it down with one hand, she looked Lilly over. “I’ll come by and fetch you directly after breakfast,” she said. “It ain’t a place easily found.”
    Turning her back, Armina hiked up the steep trail, sure-footed as a mountain goat. Before she angled away around a bend, she stopped to fetch something from the tall grasses beside the path. “Come on, Bubby,” Lilly heard the girl say as she plopped a roly-poly baby on her nearly nonexistent hip. “It’s a-fixing to come a frog strangler.”
    Dozens of grasshoppers whirred down the trail from where Armina had disturbed them. Lilly watched their progress from one clump of brush and weeds to another. One of the long-legged insects landed on her wrist, cocking his wee brown head, studying the bit of flesh beneath him before, with a short burst of speed, he jumped to test the yellow fruit of a horse nettle.
    Lilly laughed. “Hurry up,” she said as the marble-size globe bobbed under his weight. “Your friends are leaving you behind.”
    The coming rain gave warning with its clean yet earthy scent. Lilly wrapped her Bible in the shawl and hurried down the mountain. With a laugh she ran across the yard and into her house, beating the rain by seconds. Her still-warm supper sat waiting on one of Myrtie’s prized tea-leaf plates: a ham steak, corn pudding, baking soda biscuits, and green onions fresh from the garden. A cold glass of milk and a slice of apple pie finished her repast. If she wasn’t careful, she’d soon be as fat as the baby Armina had hefted to her hip.
    It was still dark and misting rain the next morning when she rapped lightly on the Jameses’ front door. She wanted to let Myrtie know not to bring her breakfast round. The apple in her pocket would suffice.
    The tantalizing smell of bacon teased her resolve when Myrtie opened the door. “Goodness gracious,” she said after Lilly told her she was on her way to work. “Why so early?”
    “I’ve got to make a house call this morning,” Lilly said, “but I have to see about Darrell first.”
    “If you’d of told me last evening, I’d of brought your breakfast before I fed Stanley.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it until just now.”
    Lilly could see Mr. James sitting at the table. His fisted hands, a fork in one, a knife in the other, rested beside his empty plate. “Step in,” he said. “It don’t take but a minute to eat an egg.” He put his fork down and, without moving from his seat, pulled out a chair for Lilly.
    Feeling like a child, Lilly took the chair. She really shouldn’t let Mr. James direct her time, but Myrtie was already stacking silver-dollar pancakes and two over-easy eggs on her plate. Her stomach rumbled at the sight. Mr. James slid a pitcher of syrup across the table with one hand and cut into his stack with the other.
    Myrtie watched from the stove. Lilly wished she’d sit down and eat with them. As soon as Mr. James emptied his coffee cup, Myrtie was there with the pot. She refilled the cup, then stirred in a splash of cream and two teaspoons of sugar, although the sugar bowl and cream pitcher sat right in front of Mr. James. He never had to ask for a thing. Myrtie anticipated his every need. Lilly was appalled. Myrtie was being treated like a servant. In Lilly’s home on Troublesome Creek, her daddy was as likely to fix her mother’s cup of tea as her mother was to pour his coffee.
    Lilly couldn’t help but notice a folded one-dollar