“I’ll tell Pop you asked after him.” He banged his hand lightly on the roof of the car as he stood beside it. “She should run good for you tonight.”
“Thanks, Cuz. I owe you one.” With that, she waved and pulled out of the barn and onto the road heading south.
The car was heavy-laden and a bit sluggish in the turns. But even as heavy as it was on the straightaways, with the speed, she’d lose her stomach as it topped a few hills, the springs in the undercarriage cushioning the auto as it crested each rise. Royal breezed through Dawsonville, heading southwest. Thoughts of Lovey caused her to lose track of time and forget where she was at one point. She was so lost in reliving their late afternoon kisses from the day before that she’d almost missed the last turn. If she didn’t snap out of this lovely Lovey fog, she was going to end up all the way in Atlanta proper, with a load full of corn liquor and too many curious eyes.
She slowed and took the last turn down a darkened dirt road; ramshackle wooden structures lined the lane on each side. She slowed and pulled alongside of the last building, its warm light seeping around the edges of the loosely hung front door and a small side window. Music and voices carried well through the pine board walls. She parked and walked to a back entrance.
Royal knocked twice and someone opened the tiny square hole, shuttered from the inside in the upper half of the door.
“Hey, gotta delivery.”
“It’s about damn time.” Royal heard the bolt slide, and the wide door swung open onto a smoke hazed scene of merriment. A muscled, dark-skinned man held the door ajar.
“Hi, Big Earl, want to help me bring it in?” Royal headed back toward the car as two large fellows followed Earl out to assist with the liquid cargo.
Royal opened the trunk to reveal four wooden crates stuffed with hay and glass jars. Each of them took a crate with Royal grabbing the last one. After carrying the delivery inside, she came back for her satchel and closed the trunk. She accepted a roll of bills and then shoved it into the shoulder satchel that was now strapped across her chest. She’d just accepted Earl’s offered hand for a shake when a young woman approached and tugged at Royal’s arm.
“Hi, Rose.” Royal smiled and allowed herself to be pulled away from Earl’s hulking frame. Rose was about Royal’s age, her brown skin showing a light sheen of perspiration, no doubt from her exertion on the dance floor. She wore a dress covered with a lavender checked pattern, cinched closely around her tiny waist to accentuate her hips. Rose was a beauty, with dark sparkling eyes that usually hinted at mischief.
“Royal, let’s dance…we’re celebrating. Ella May got married today.”
“Is that what all the noise is about?” The dance floor was crowded with black folks, young and old. Dance clubs were segregated, which seemed silly to Royal. The black joints had the best music. In her line of work, Royal could socialize on both sides of the color line with full acceptance.
Everyone was in full celebratory mode—dancing, clinking glasses, and talking in loud voices. Laughter rang loud and often as Big Earl began to pour drinks from behind the makeshift bar to a small crowd of jovial patrons. The dress ranged from fieldwork clothing, to overalls, to suits and dresses—the latter group most likely part of the wedding party.
As Royal swung Rose around in the midst of the revelers, she caught a glimpse of Ella May and her man dancing a jig. More than one celebrator within arm’s length reached out and gave Royal a friendly slap on the back. She hoped it was because they were happy to see her, that they genuinely liked her, and not just because she’d been the one to bring the liquor.
Royal stayed on with Rose and her friends for another hour before she headed back north to the hill country. It was long past midnight when she rounded the bend and traveled in front of Lovey’s house. She slowed and considered stopping. Should she?
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Lovey since she’d left her the previous day. Maybe if she crept close to the house she’d be lucky and Lovey would be feeling as sleepless as she was. Royal eased the Ford sedan off the side of the road just past the driveway, behind some trees and out of sight of the reverend’s house. The house stood dark and silent.
Royal had a few small stones in her hand that she tossed at the bedroom window once she was close enough to the house. After three stones, a low wattage bulb came on and a dark figure was outlined against the glass. The window slid open and Royal knew immediately she had the wrong room. Shit!
Reverend Edwards leaned out the open window into the darkness, his nightshirt hanging loosely past his waist. Royal had ducked between the shrubs close to the wall just out of his peripheral view. The elderly pastor leaned further, squinting into the dark corners of the yard before he closed the window, and moments later dimmed the lamp.
Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. How did she get the wrong window? She heard muffled voices. Lovey must have gotten up and was now talking with her father. After silence returned, Royal slunk away from the window and started to walk back to where she’d left her car. But she was no more than twenty feet from the house when the sound of a window sliding up caused her to turn. Lovey in her white nightgown practically glowed against the outline of the dark window.
Quickly, Royal trotted back to the house.
“What are you doing?” Lovey whispered.
“I wanted to see you.” Royal crouched under the window looking up at Lovey. “I accidentally hit the wrong window.”
Lovey covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She silently motioned for Royal to climb into the window, which was two windows down from her father’s room. Halfway through the opening, Lovey had to pull Royal by her belt to help her the rest of the way in.
“You’re crazy.”
“I thought you might be up.” Once she righted herself, Royal nervously put her hands in her pockets. The room was dark. Their voices were barely a whisper.
Lovey leaned in, smelling Royal’s shirt. “You smell like cigars.”
“Hazard of the job, I suppose.” Royal watched as Lovey opened the door a little, checked for movement from the hallway, and then silently shut it.
Lovey pulled Royal over to sit on the bed. “I’m glad you stopped by. I couldn’t sleep.” She pulled her feet up onto the bed and patted the space beside her, an indication for Royal to sit.
Chapter Eight
Now that Royal was in Lovey’s bedroom she was a bundle of nerves. In her head she hadn’t gotten much past throwing rocks at the window. She hadn’t really envisioned what would transpire if Lovey actually invited her in. Even in the dark, barely moonlit room she could see enough detail to know that Lovey was wearing a thin nightgown that revealed the subtle contours of what lay beneath. Her shoulders and arms were bare. As Royal took in these details Lovey reached over and entwined their fingers, which she felt all the way to her toes.
“I should go.” Royal started to stand up.
“You just got here.”
“I know…I…I just…”
“Come here.” Lovey moved across the bed to make more room for Royal. “You must be tired. It’s late and you’ve been driving. Rest with me for a little while.”
Royal knew that lying down next to Lovey would be anything but restful. Her nervous system was charged to the max at the moment, and if there’d been more light in the room she was sure Lovey would be able to see how red her cheeks were. But how could she refuse?
“Lie down and talk to me,” Lovey whispered. She motioned again for Royal to join her.
Royal stretched out beside Lovey. They lay side by side like coconspirators planning some late night caper.
“Does the cigar smell bother you?”
“No, I rather like it.”
“What did you do today?” Royal pulled the pillow up under her head so that she could more fully face Lovey.
“I was at the church, helping prepare meals for shut-ins.”
“No kidding?” She thought this sounded like something her mother might do, but not a woman as young as Lov
ey.
“I’m the minister’s daughter. It’s politic to assist with efforts in the community. Feeding the infirm is a good thing.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I was just surprised is all.”
“It was actually nice. Most of the women who brought food to prepare are great to talk with. I’ve been spending too much time in the house by myself the past few weeks.”
They were silent for a couple of minutes. Royal tentatively reached over and caressed Lovey’s arm with her fingers.
“I suppose our worlds are very different. Although, I’m told moonshine can be used for many medicinal purposes.” Royal made the statement with a straight face, but then they both had to stifle laughs.
“Don’t make me laugh. We’re supposed to be quiet, remember?” Lovey playfully shoved her in the shoulder. Then they were silent again and the air between them seemed to grow thick with electricity.
“I hear it’s also good for bee stings.”
“Now I know that’s a tall tale. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Who could forget the whirling dervish in her skivvies running full tilt until she splashed into the pond?”
Lovey grimaced. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“You shouldn’t be. Even Ned noticed what nice legs you have.”
Lovey swatted at Royal’s arm playfully.
Royal eased closer and shyly kissed Lovey.
Lovey felt her stomach flip and drop. She shifted into Royal, placing her hand on Royal’s face. She felt Royal’s hand at the small of her back pulling them closer. She couldn’t silence the moan that escaped as their kiss deepened and their bodies pressed more fully against each other.
Royal began to place soft kisses down Lovey’s neck and shoulder. The tension on the shoulder strap of her nightgown lessened and the satin strap drooped off to one side. Royal tentatively slid it further down her arm. The upper curve of her breast now revealed, Royal traced her finger across the sensitive skin as she moved back up to capture Lovey’s mouth in another long kiss.
Lovey covered Royal’s hand with hers, pressing it into her breast. She wanted to be touched. She arched into Royal’s palm, and as they moved against each other the fabric fell further until skin touched skin. Lovey shuddered involuntarily.
“Royal,” she whispered.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Lovey didn’t speak right away. Her mind wrestled between what she thought she should do and what she wanted to do.
Obviously reading into Lovey’s silence, Royal didn’t stop. She kissed Lovey’s neck and moved down, lightly trailing kisses across the pale skin above her breast. She filled her fingers with the hair at the back of Royal’s neck, pulling her mouth more firmly down against her chest. After a few moments of exquisite torture, Lovey finally spoke in a breathy whisper. “Royal, I think we have to stop.”
Royal rose up to look Lovey in the face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s wrong. I just…we shouldn’t do this with my father in the house.” She caressed Royal’s cheek with her fingers. “I’m worried he’ll hear us.” Royal nodded. It seemed that she understood, although the look on her face was full of desire and her cheeks were hot against Lovey’s fingers.
Truthfully, Lovey wasn’t sure what she wanted, and part of her was afraid that her father would burst into the room at any moment. But she was also acutely aware that her brain and her body were warring against each other at the moment. She felt equally aroused and confused. But now was not the time to puzzle this out.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” They got quietly to their feet and began to tiptoe down the hallway toward the kitchen, which led to the front door. Royal was carrying her shoes so as not to make noise.
But as they were just about to walk past the kitchen table, the floor creaked and Lovey jumped at the sound of a door opening behind them. With lightning fast reflexes, she shoved Royal into the pantry just as her father hit the light switch for the kitchen. Lovey turned, blinking against the glowing single bulb.
“Lovey, I thought I heard voices.” He was in his nightshirt, with a dressing gown over it. His thinning hair was rumpled on top of his head. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses to focus on her.
“I’m sorry if I woke you. I had a bad dream and I needed a glass of water.” Lovey moved to the sink and went through the motions of filling a glass. She realized that part about being thirsty wasn’t a lie.
“Well, do you want me to make you some hot tea?”
“No, I’m fine, really. No need for you to stay up. I’ll just finish my drink and go back to bed.”
Inside the pantry, Royal was trying to shrink as small as possible so that she was lost in shadows at the back corner. They’d acted so quickly that the pantry door was ajar, and light from the fixture in the kitchen fell through the opening in a long, rectangular shape that almost exposed her feet. She held her breath, listening to the muffled voices in the kitchen.
Royal’s heart was racing for a whole different reason than it had been a few minutes ago. Running moonshine didn’t carry near the threat of being found out by Abraham Edwards. She must have been out of her mind to sneak into Lovey’s room in the middle of the night. First thing tomorrow she needed to have her head examined.
After a few more moments, she heard Reverend Edwards return to his room. The door shut and the kitchen light clicked off. Royal lingered at the back of the pantry afraid to move until Lovey came to fetch her.
Lovey held her finger to her mouth, a silent signal that they shouldn’t talk. She walked Royal to the door and whispered in her ear.
“What time will I see you tomorrow?”
Tomorrow was Saturday. Lovey had already agreed to go out with her. Royal leaned close to whisper, “I’ll pick you up at four o’clock. Wear shoes comfortable for walking.”
“Okay, see you then.” Lovey kissed her on the cheek and ushered her silently out the front door. The brush of Lovey’s lips against the outside edge of her ear sent chills down both arms. As she crossed the yard in her sock feet, she felt the heavy dew seeping through.
After a minute, Royal was settled back in the driver’s seat of her dark sedan. She leaned back against the seat and sighed, composing lines of poetry in her head.
The flame of desire burns my skin
I welcome the relief only your lips can bring
My body holds a space for you.
Chapter Nine
Royal stretched and rolled over to see the sun streaming through her bedroom window. On the nightstand was a rumpled pile of paper scraps that she pulled into bed with her. She propped herself up on her pillow and sorted through the papers.
Lines of poetry sometimes came to her in short thoughts. She’d scribble them down through the course of the day and night. Sometimes in the full light of day the notes made no sense. An idea she’d thought was genius in the twilight hours would turn out to be rubbish the next morning. Those she crumpled and tossed toward a basket in the corner, only hitting two out of the three.
The phrases she’d written the previous night after seeing Lovey still rang true for her. She tucked them inside a leather wallet on the bedside table, climbed out of bed, and pulled on a shirt and trousers. She fished in the leather satchel hanging on a nearby hook for the wad of bills she’d collected from Big Earl. She shoved the bundle of cash into her loose fitting trousers. Yawning and running a hand through her sleep-sculpted hair, she tottered down the narrow, steep steps that led into the kitchen.
After her window hopping antics the previous night until the wee hours of the morning, Royal had slept in. Sleeping in meant it was around nine in the morning. She was surprised to see Teddy was already seated at the table. Her brother rarely left his pillow on a Saturday before ten. He was usually up late drawing.
Teddy had real talent as an artist, and Royal hoped, given his sensitive nature, that he could follow that path and avoid the family business. Not because she perceived
moonshine to be a bad thing, but because Wade was far too rough on the boys. Teddy tried to avoid Wade as much as humanly possible, and Royal agreed with that approach. He was hunched over a cup of coffee; long bangs shielded his eyes so she had to lean low to see his face.
“Are you sick?” Royal poured herself a cup and settled into a chair across from Teddy.
“No, why?”
“It’s before ten. You’re never up this early. I thought you must be ill. Or maybe you just never went to bed?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re hilarious.” He pushed a clump of hair off his forehead and took a swig of his coffee.
Royal leaned over to look under the table. Teddy was wearing only one boot. His other foot was shoeless and covered with mud. “Where’s your other shoe?”
“Stuck in the mud by the barn. I somehow lost a shoelace yesterday.”
“Hmmm,” was Royal’s only response as she tried not to laugh. “So why is it you’re up so early anyway?”
“I’ll have you know I was firing up the still.”
This was something that Royal’s grandfather Duke normally did. He’d usually fire it early, while still almost dark, so that no one could see the smoke. If he’d asked Teddy to do it then something must be wrong. He typically asked Wade, if he didn’t do the task himself.
“Why’d he ask you?”
“I dunno. I guess he weren’t feelin’ well or something.”
“You didn’t ask him?” Royal found her brother’s lack of curiosity annoying.
“He’s up at the house. Why don’t you go ask him?”
“Maybe I will.” Royal stood, refilled her cup, and left Teddy to sleepily sag over his morning brew. She stepped out onto the uneven back porch. The house that she shared with Teddy and their mother needed some work. The back stoop had been missing for more than ten years. At some point, her grandfather found a piece of sandstone tall enough to fill the gap, and that irregular shaped, smooth-surfaced stone had acted as the stoop ever since. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Her granddad’s words sounded in her head.
Whiskey Sunrise Page 5
