for your foolishness. The little fella didn’t live long, but his father gave him a fine name, Michael Lewis MacDonald. We’ve been pussy-footin’ around you since you came here. Now it’s time for you to straighten up and act like you’ve got a lick of sense. No more name-calling in this house.”
Mother straightened her dress and turned to walk out of the room. “You seem to be feeling better now. I expect to see you at dinner, and you can wash the dishes after.”
Flo sat there in silence. Like the rest of us, she knew who was boss. I left the room so that Sophia could attend to Flo’s needs and help her dress. When Flo entered the dining room later that day, the dark maternity dress dwarfed her tiny body. Flo didn’t make a sound; she didn’t have to because her wide eyes usually talked for her. That day I couldn’t read any messages in Flo’s eyes.
She took her seat next to me at the table. Her stomach was a bottomless pit. I filled her plate with chicken and dumplings three times, and she put away four thick slices of cornbread slathered in butter. Sitting next to Flo at dinner, I realized that I had missed her. She had been through so much in such a short time, I wanted to help her. I put on an apron, cleared the table, and loaded the dishes in the pan. Flo plopped down on the bench at the kitchen table and held her head up with her fist.
“ Whew, I’m beat.”
I put the plates in the rinse water and glanced at her out the corner of my eye. She’d been through so much, poor little kitten. I wanted to cheer her up. “You just rest. I’ll finish here. Say, Flo. What do you say we go to Atlanta when you get to feeling better? We’ll buy you some nice dresses. Maybe even go to the picture show.”
In a flash, Flo was at my elbow, rolling those blue eyes up at me. “A picture show? I ain’t never been to a picture show before.”
I moved her over so I could wipe the dishes. “Why sure. But remember what Sophia taught you. Say ‘I haven’t been to a picture show’.”
“ I haven’t been to a picture show,” she repeated. “And you say I can get some dresses, too?”
I dried my hands on a towel and took her into my arms. She was so slight, I thought my passionate embrace might break her. Those were the days when Flo was easy and manageable. I was in control and she accepted it. Back then, Flo had it made. She just didn’t know it. Even though the baby boy was dead, I kept the promise I’d made at the creek. I would spoil Flo and give her everything she wanted.
Chapter VI
Changing Times
1939
Once a month, I drove Flo to Atlanta. Flo took to shopping like a duck takes to water. She stocked up on movie magazines and acquired a fine eye for fashion. She preferred form-fitted dresses made of rayon that swayed with her walk. Flo liked anything bright and showy, red or polka dot. In the five years since our marriage, Flo had grown into a beautiful woman, flashy and seductive. With the hard times behind us, I felt tip-top again strolling down Peachtree Street with a beautiful woman on my arm.
Once in awhile, we’d eat at the Five and Dime lunch counter in Decatur and stop in on Jack at the Texaco. Jack told us that Flo’s brother had been sent up the river for armed robbery after the cops shut down his speakeasy. The news didn’t seem to have an effect on Flo. She wasn’t sentimental that way. Jack also told us that he and Maude had bought a new house in the Kirkwood neighborhood. Flo and I rode over to the new housing project.
A streetcar rail ran in the middle and young oak trees lined the street. Jack’s house was white plank with a screened in porch on one side. I drove to the end of Edinburgh Drive where new brick bungalows were under construction in three or four alternating designs.
“ Mick, look at that one. That’s the prettiest house I’ve ever seen.”
I stopped the car in front of a recently finished bungalow. Straw covered the sloping front lawn to
Mother straightened her dress and turned to walk out of the room. “You seem to be feeling better now. I expect to see you at dinner, and you can wash the dishes after.”
Flo sat there in silence. Like the rest of us, she knew who was boss. I left the room so that Sophia could attend to Flo’s needs and help her dress. When Flo entered the dining room later that day, the dark maternity dress dwarfed her tiny body. Flo didn’t make a sound; she didn’t have to because her wide eyes usually talked for her. That day I couldn’t read any messages in Flo’s eyes.
She took her seat next to me at the table. Her stomach was a bottomless pit. I filled her plate with chicken and dumplings three times, and she put away four thick slices of cornbread slathered in butter. Sitting next to Flo at dinner, I realized that I had missed her. She had been through so much in such a short time, I wanted to help her. I put on an apron, cleared the table, and loaded the dishes in the pan. Flo plopped down on the bench at the kitchen table and held her head up with her fist.
“ Whew, I’m beat.”
I put the plates in the rinse water and glanced at her out the corner of my eye. She’d been through so much, poor little kitten. I wanted to cheer her up. “You just rest. I’ll finish here. Say, Flo. What do you say we go to Atlanta when you get to feeling better? We’ll buy you some nice dresses. Maybe even go to the picture show.”
In a flash, Flo was at my elbow, rolling those blue eyes up at me. “A picture show? I ain’t never been to a picture show before.”
I moved her over so I could wipe the dishes. “Why sure. But remember what Sophia taught you. Say ‘I haven’t been to a picture show’.”
“ I haven’t been to a picture show,” she repeated. “And you say I can get some dresses, too?”
I dried my hands on a towel and took her into my arms. She was so slight, I thought my passionate embrace might break her. Those were the days when Flo was easy and manageable. I was in control and she accepted it. Back then, Flo had it made. She just didn’t know it. Even though the baby boy was dead, I kept the promise I’d made at the creek. I would spoil Flo and give her everything she wanted.
Chapter VI
Changing Times
1939
Once a month, I drove Flo to Atlanta. Flo took to shopping like a duck takes to water. She stocked up on movie magazines and acquired a fine eye for fashion. She preferred form-fitted dresses made of rayon that swayed with her walk. Flo liked anything bright and showy, red or polka dot. In the five years since our marriage, Flo had grown into a beautiful woman, flashy and seductive. With the hard times behind us, I felt tip-top again strolling down Peachtree Street with a beautiful woman on my arm.
Once in awhile, we’d eat at the Five and Dime lunch counter in Decatur and stop in on Jack at the Texaco. Jack told us that Flo’s brother had been sent up the river for armed robbery after the cops shut down his speakeasy. The news didn’t seem to have an effect on Flo. She wasn’t sentimental that way. Jack also told us that he and Maude had bought a new house in the Kirkwood neighborhood. Flo and I rode over to the new housing project.
A streetcar rail ran in the middle and young oak trees lined the street. Jack’s house was white plank with a screened in porch on one side. I drove to the end of Edinburgh Drive where new brick bungalows were under construction in three or four alternating designs.
“ Mick, look at that one. That’s the prettiest house I’ve ever seen.”
I stopped the car in front of a recently finished bungalow. Straw covered the sloping front lawn to
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