Catching Moondrops

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Catching Moondrops Page 3

by Jennifer Erin Valent


  Even though his arms didn’t embrace me in the kind of way I wished for, there was no better place to be in all the world, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Even at five feet seven and in my pretty new shoes, I had to stand on tiptoe to reach his neck.

  “It’s been two long months,” I whispered in his ear.

  He pulled away from me to look at my face, and for one flickering moment I saw the brotherly smile slip from his eyes to be replaced by something far more to my liking. “Two days is too long.”

  Ten seconds of bliss dissolved the minute the clomp of my daddy’s shoes rang off the new boards he’d nailed into the porch floor last week, and Luke let me go like I’d burnt his fingertips.

  “You plannin’ on keepin’ the boy to yourself, Jessilyn?” Daddy asked, a glint of protectiveness brightening his eyes. He took Luke by the arm and nearly dragged him up the steps. “Come on in the house, son. Sadie’s itchin’ to see you, but she’s up to her elbows in supper fixin’s.”

  Luke and I shared one last glance before he skittered off alongside Daddy, stopping only to grab his hat from the steps. “There ain’t no need for her to go makin’ somethin’ special.”

  Gemma stepped out of the shadows, and Luke stopped and shook his head at her. “I swear, Gemma, you get prettier every day.” Then he swooped her up in a hug that looked far too much like the one he’d given me.

  And he’d never said a thing about me being pretty.

  A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I gritted my teeth to keep from letting it have its way.

  Gemma patted Luke’s back and chided him. “You talk a good line, Luke Talley. I ain’t changed one bit since you lit out of here a couple months ago.” She nodded in my direction. “Jessie . . . now, she’s the one doin’ the prettyin’ up. I swear her hair gets more like the wheat fields all the time.”

  I felt a tug at my heart over her doing that, and the frown let go of its hold in time for me to turn up one corner of my mouth.

  “Sure enough it does.” Luke looked back at me and let his eyes linger just long enough for Daddy to get antsy.

  “Come on inside, boy. We got us some catchin’ up to do.” He pulled Luke’s arm so hard, Luke nearly tripped over the threshold, and as annoyed as I was about having him torn away from me, I couldn’t stifle a giggle.

  “Same old, same old,” Gemma murmured once they’d disappeared inside with Daddy hollering, “Sadie, look what the cat drug in.” She held a hand out to get me to come up on the porch. “Your daddy won’t be restin’ this summer, I can tell you that. He’ll be watchin’ you two like a hawk.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s much to worry about,” I said. “Luke hugged you just the same as he did me. Either he thinks of me like his sister, or he’s got a crush on you.”

  “Oh, it ain’t neither, and you know it. He’s got eyes for only you, Jessie, so stop your worryin’. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  “Don’t see how you can say things like that when he looks at me no different than he looks at a chicken leg.”

  Gemma dug an elbow into my ribs, making me bend over and pull away from her side. “The way he feels about food, you should take that as a compliment.”

  My halfway smile gave out into a full one, and I wrapped my arm around her waist as we made our way inside to the smell of Momma’s cooking.

  “Jessie made the corn fritters,” Momma was saying when we came into the kitchen. “You should just see her in the kitchen, Luke. She’s becomin’ a real fine cook.”

  “Yes’m, I know. She made me some tarts for my trip, and I ate ’em all up before I made it ten miles down the road.”

  Gemma gave my side a pinch, and I nudged her with my hip.

  Momma had put Daddy to work carving the roast, and as she talked up my cooking to Luke, the knife hit the cutting board a little more loudly with each slice.

  As I set the table, I kept letting my eyes peer out their corners, checking to see what Luke was up to. I’d never seen him look more like a real man, and I hoped he was thinking that I finally looked like a woman. I’d pinned my hair up, but there was never a day I could put it up without little wisps falling out, and those strands kept sticking to the gloss I’d patted on my lips. There was always a fight between my tomboy side and my womanly side, and I felt awkwardly trapped in between.

  “You ain’t got to worry about neither, Jessilyn,” Momma’d said when I told her so one day. “You just let you show. Ain’t nothin’ better’n that.”

  But I felt all mismatched despite her words, and it was all I could do to swallow each bite of food at supper. Between snatching glances at Luke and battling my self-consciousness, I was too busy to think about food.

  Daddy took my bad appetite as proof I was lovesick, so he dominated the conversation, leaving me and Luke with no chance to talk. I pushed my peas around with my fork and cleared my throat several times to get Momma’s attention. It was clear by her face that she felt my pain, but even Momma’s well-practiced artistry handling Daddy couldn’t change the situation.

  Gemma had plenty of sideways looks for me, and I knew she felt sorry for me.

  I felt sorry for me too. I wondered if there’d ever be a day that Daddy would see me as a full-grown woman. After all these months of not seeing Luke, it was killing me to have to sit by so quiet and uncomfortable, and I was growing angrier with my daddy by the minute.

  The only good thing to happen came with dessert, when Luke’s knee met mine beneath the table. That was no uncommon occurrence at our tiny table, but it made a difference to me that he didn’t move it, and the cobbler I’d made tasted even better than usual that night.

  After supper, I grabbed an apron from the hook on the wall, resigned to an evening that didn’t measure up even close to the one I’d imagined.

  “Don’t you go helpin’ me,” Momma whispered when I started to put it on. “You get on out and talk to Luke.”

  “Ain’t no point in it, Momma. Daddy won’t let me do no talkin’.”

  Momma planted her hands on her hips and sighed. “That man . . .”

  “He ain’t ever goin’ to see me for nothin’ more than his baby girl.”

  She cupped my cheek with her hand. “Yes, he will, honey. Don’t you worry none about that. It’ll come right; you’ll see.”

  Gemma snatched the apron from my hand and pushed me toward the doorway. “Go on. I’ll help clean up.”

  “You both go on,” Momma said, grabbing the apron from Gemma. “I’ll call your daddy in to help, and you three can go on the porch. It’ll soothe things a bit if you’re there, Gemma.”

  Momma walked on ahead into the hall and called for Daddy. “Harley, on second thought, why don’t you come on and help me clean up so those girls can have a break. They did most of the precookin’ since I got home late from town.”

  I made Gemma look at me close. “My hair okay?”

  “It’s fine. You look pretty and natural, like a real lady.” She tucked a loose strand behind my ear. “Ain’t no man who wouldn’t say so, neither.”

  Daddy was staring at Momma with a furrowed brow when Gemma and I came into the den. He’d already lit his pipe, and the smoke was fairly floating up in question marks. “Can’t you leave them dishes till later?”

  “Only if I want to spend an hour scrapin’ dried-up grease from them. Why don’t you give me a hand now so we can all sit together in a bit?”

  There weren’t many times my daddy didn’t oblige my momma’s requests, and this wasn’t one of them. He put his pipe down on the tray next to his favorite chair and got up with a long sigh. I could hear him whispering something to Momma as they retreated into the kitchen, but I didn’t much care what it was now that I had Luke to myself . . . and Gemma.

  “Why don’t we go outside?” I offered like the perfect hostess. “There’s a nice breeze this evenin’.”

  Luke hopped up from the sofa and opened the door for me and Gemma, but once we were outside, Gemma retreate
d to the rocking chair, leaving the swing for me and Luke.

  I made extra certain to be ladylike when I sat down on the swing, tucking my skirt beneath me with grace, crossing my ankles perfectly. Luke took his seat next to me and got us swinging with one push off the floor.

  “Was there any trouble on your trip home?” I asked, breaking a few moments of silence.

  “Train left a little late, that’s all.”

  “Business go fine?”

  “Seems so.” He squinted and pointed off into the front yard. “What happened to that old maple?”

  “Came down in a storm. You should’ve heard Momma yelp.”

  “Good thing it didn’t come down on the house.” He tapped his foot to keep us moving. “Ain’t got your tree swing no more, then?”

  “Oh, it made it out alive. It’s just stuck in the shed, is all. Figure there ain’t no need for a tree swing now we’re all grown-up.”

  “Seems all wrong not seein’ it swayin’ in the breeze.” He put his arms behind his head and grinned. “I can remember you swingin’ on that thing like it was yesterday, your ponytail floppin’ every which way.”

  “I loved that swing. I watched Daddy make it when I was four years old. He helped me carve my initials into the bottom, too.”

  “Time sure does fly.”

  A good five minutes of silence passed before I finally suggested we take a walk. “We could go see the new garden Gemma planted. She’s got some fine flowers there.”

  “I didn’t know Gemma liked playin’ with flowers enough to keep a garden.”

  “She took it up of late. Says it relaxes her. Don’t you, Gemma?”

  But Gemma was asleep in her chair, her head tipped to the side. I didn’t buy it for a second, but I knew better than to question her. She was just doing what any good friend would by letting me and Luke wander off for a bit of time alone.

  I looked at him and shrugged. “She’s had a busy day.”

  He smiled and held out his arm for me to take, and I walked down the steps beside him like I was walking down the aisle.

  The sun was just starting to say good night, and the crickets and frogs were celebrating loudly. The breeze stirred up my hair, and I could feel even more strands start to drift down around my face. But I didn’t care if my hairpins all fell out in a heap. All I wanted was to listen to Luke breathing beside me.

  By the time we reached the garden, I was feeling a bit more at ease in his presence, like being silent together made me remember some of what we’d been to each other for the past six years. But that relationship had changed as I’d become more woman than girl, and there was still a difference between us that we hadn’t quite learned to cope with.

  Luke was the first to speak when we reached the garden. “Looks like Gemma’s been busy.”

  I walked away from him to finger a carnation. “Gemma says there’s a meanin’ to every flower she’s got in here. I like the daisies the best.” The rhododendron beside me rustled, playing into the spell between the two of us, and I kept my gaze on the plants rather than on Luke. “Did you meet anyone interestin’ while you were away?”

  “Just city folk. Can’t say I met anyone who made me forget what I left behind.”

  I stood a little taller and let my eyes wander over to him. “Oh? Don’t you like city folk?”

  “They ain’t Lassiters, is all.”

  A few more strands of hair dropped in front of my eyes, and I peered meekly through them.

  Luke reached into his pocket and held out a small box tied with ribbon. “Brought you somethin’ back.”

  I was pretty sure my feet came off the grass, but I steadied myself and did everything I could to keep from showing my excitement. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I know I didn’t.” He sauntered up in front of me, stopping just beside the pink rosebush. “I wanted to.”

  I eagerly took the box from him and tried to untie the ribbon without letting my fingers shake. When I managed to fish the top off, I gasped at the necklace inside, a perfect pendant with one sparkling green stone in the center. My words got caught in my throat, but I managed to whisper, “It’s beautiful.”

  “Ain’t a real gem or nothin’ . . .” Luke pulled it from the box and turned me around by the shoulders. “Let’s see how it looks on you.” He fumbled with the clasp, but once he’d secured it, he turned me back around and stared at me solemnly. A swatch of hair blew in front of my left eye and stayed there, impeding my view of his face. He reached up and brushed it away, tucking it behind my ear. “It matches your eyes.”

  His hand lingered against my face a few moments, and while we stood there together, the sky lit up pink, casting color all around us. It was a moment to be stored away in memory for years, and I avoided breathing for fear of breaking the spell. But just as quickly as the last bit of sun dropped out of sight, so did the moment between us, and he stepped away as though some forgotten thought had suddenly crept into his brain.

  I bristled at the change. It seemed it wasn’t only Daddy who had trouble noticing I’d grown up. The past two years had been endless days of the same: Luke giving me ideas that he had feelings for me and then pushing me away. The only way I’d found to cope was by purposely torturing him, mocking his discomfort; and necklace or no necklace, it was still the only way I could see my way out of the moment.

  I fingered his gift and watched the remnants of the setting sun glint off the stone. “Sure is a pretty thing.” I walked toward him and held the pendant next to my eye. “You think it matches, you say?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You must spend a lot of time admirin’ my eyes if you could remember just how they look after two months without seein’ them.”

  He looked away. “I’ve seen them for six years now, Jessie. I ain’t color-blind, after all.”

  I stepped up in front of him and smiled. “So there weren’t no city girl with green eyes that modeled for you or nothin’?”

  He was blushing right to the tips of his ears as he always did when I taunted him, but he looked at me seriously. “Ain’t nobody with eyes like yours, Jessilyn.”

  And there it was, the truth I always managed to pull out of him with my taunts. I could feel the fire in my own cheeks, and I stepped back to hide them. But as we watched the pink and orange sky together, side by side for the first time in months, that small bit of truth was enough to tide me over.

  For now.

  Chapter 3

  Gemma stood in the middle of Tal Pritchett’s office, her hair pinned up in a kerchief, an apron wrapped around her middle.

  I dug my fists into my hips and sighed. “You belong on a pancake box.”

  “Don’t you go makin’ fun of colored folk, Jessilyn.”

  “I ain’t makin’ fun of colored folk. I’m makin’ fun of you. First time a fine, eligible man comes around here for you, and you go dressin’ up like you’re ready to pick cotton.”

  “Well, it suits the occasion, and that’s all there is to it. And besides, he ain’t here.”

  “Right now he ain’t. But he and Luke will be here soon with the supplies, and he’s gonna wonder when Gemma left and Aunt Jemima walked in.”

  “Oh, shush!” She grabbed a feather duster and ran it across one of the shelves that lined the back wall of Tal’s tiny office, spattering the air with dust that lit up like sparks in the sunlight. “Sakes alive!” she sputtered, then bent over in a coughing spell. “This place is filthy.”

  “And ain’t we lucky we get to clean it?” I pulled my shirt up over my nose to keep from inhaling the dust and went to open one of the windows, but it was stuck tight. I pounded my fist on the four corners and tried again. “Stuck good,” I murmured. I pounded again and managed to get the window to move, but once it came unstuck, it slid up so fast it hit the top of the opening and shattered.

  I heard someone outside whistle in dismay, and I stuck my head out, careful to avoid the shards that threatened to stab me. Luke was standing there with
a toolbox in his hand, his hat tipped back on his head so I could see how high his eyebrows were.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have some glass in that there toolbox?” I queried.

  “Fresh out.”

  Tal came up behind him and surveyed the damage, his arms full of paint supplies. “You girls mad at me for somethin’?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose, for heaven’s sake. It slipped.”

  “Whatever you say, Jessilyn.” Luke smiled that mischievous smile of his that made my heart flutter every time. It had happened so many times by now, I was surprised my heart could still take it.

  “Would you stop bein’ ornery and come in here? This place is so rickety, I swear it might buckle under and cave right on in. Hope you can work some miracles with those nails.”

  Tal rounded the corner and stepped in ahead of Luke, who had to duck under the low doorway.

  Luke set his toolbox down and gave Tal a nudge with his elbow. “You sure you ain’t better off just takin’ this place down and puttin’ up a tent?”

  Tal didn’t say much at first, only gave the dusty, decrepit building a once-over. Cobwebs hung on the ceiling two layers thick, floorboards poked up like molehills, and a trail of ants followed a straight line across the floor, up the wall, and around the one unbroken window. There wasn’t much about the place that said doctor’s office.

  “It’s what the Lord provided.” He sighed. “Reckon I won’t be seein’ many people in here, anyways. I’ll mostly be goin’ door-to-door.”

  “Well, if it’s what the Lord provided, there ain’t nothin’ but good to come of it, then,” Gemma said. “The Lord always works out good for those who love Him.”

  “Looks more like a closet than anythin’.” Luke took off his hat and scratched his head thoughtfully. “Ain’t space for much more’n a table and chair.”

  “Well, since when did Calloway ever have nice places to accommodate colored folks?” Gemma swirled her duster and filled the air again. “Ain’t like colored folks get the pick of the land hereabouts.”

 

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