The Improper Life of Bezillia Grove by Susan Gregg Gilmore Read Free Book Online Page B

really believed they were real. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.
    “Samuel’s going to help me this summer. I promised your daddy I was going to get that barn looking like new before the end of the month, and I need Samuel’s strong back if I’m to keep my word.” Nathaniel was grinning from ear to ear, clearly so proud of his strapping, good-looking son.
    Samuel smiled too, obviously enjoying his daddy’s praise.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Samuel,” I said.
    “What you reading there?” he asked as he buckled an aged leather tool belt around his waist.
    “Reading? Oh, Nancy Drew.”
    “Never heard of her.”
    “She’s more for girls, I guess. You probably read the Hardy Boys.”
    “Nope. Never heard of them either. Nice meeting you, though,” he said, and smiled again, leaving my body feeling anxious and relaxed all at the same time. He hoisted some boards over his right shoulder and followed his father into the barn. I stayed on the porch, hidden behind my book.
Nancy thoroughly enjoyed herself and was sorry when the affair ended. With the promise of another date as soon as she returned from Twin Elms, Nancy said goodnight and waved from her doorway to the departing boy .
    I lingered on the chaise lounge for a while longer, letting the sound of their hammers slapping against the wood lull me in and out of a light sleep. Maizelle was calling my name from somewhere deep within the kitchen, but I kept drifting away from her voice and finding myself floating across the field behind the house. The grass was dotted with Queen Anne’s lace and black-eyed Susans. The sound of the water rolling through the creek was pulling me downstream, and the sun was warming my face. Samuel was ahead of me, waiting on the other side of the cherrybark oaks, extending his hand toward mine. The water isn’t deep, he said, motioning for me to follow him. Then Maizelle tapped her foot on the porch floor, and I fell right back onto the chaise lounge.
    “You better go check on your sister. You promised your mama you’d look after her, and the minute your mama leaves town, I find you out here sound asleep. I haven’t heard a word from Adelaide in the last twenty minutes. She’s either done fallen asleep like you or is cutting that poor doll’s hair again. That baby’s not looking quite right, if you ask me. Something in her eyes is just plain evil.”
    “She’s only a doll, Maizelle,” I told her, and I laughed and cocked my head to the right like I always did when I wanted her to know that her imagination was getting the best of her. Maizelle could be brave and fiery one minute and then skittish and scared the next, sometimes falling from one extreme to the other like a yo-yo dancing on a string. I sat up and rubbed my eyes and realized Maizelle was carrying a tray piled with sandwiches and fresh fruit and a large bowl of potato chips. I rubbed my stomach and waited for her to offer me something to eat.
    “This ain’t for you, girl. This is a meal meant for those who have been working hard. Now get up from there and find your sister. You promised your mama you wouldn’t take your eyes off her. I’ll feed you two in a little bit.”
    Maizelle stepped off the porch and slowly walked toward the barn. She never rushed anywhere, said there was nothing on this earth worth running to anyway. But as soon as Samuel saw her coming, he ran to greet her and quickly shifted the tray into his own two hands. “This is the best-looking sandwich I’ve ever seen, Miss Maizelle,” he declared, and grinned real big, revealing a band of perfect white teeth. Even from where I was sitting, I could see Maizelle’s cheeks turn pink as a rose and her hips jiggle from side to side.
    “Oh, your mama better not hear you say that, Samuel Stephenson, or she’s gonna have you bringing a sack lunch tomorrow,” she answered, and then she laughed real hard and playfully swatted him on his arm.
    “Oh, Miss Maizelle, my mama is a wonderful cook, but