Butterflies in Heat by Darwin Porter Page A

here."
    "I'm impressed."
    "You should be! Cigar rollers in those days used spit. My daddy's mouth was dry all the time."
    "Don't make me throw up."
    She turned from him, feeling some of the disgust herself. But the disgust was directed at Numie. He'd pay for putting down her daddy. Nobody did that. Not even the Commodore.
    Back in the bathroom, she stared at her face in the mirror. Would her daddy, were he alive today, find her attractive? The little girl look was still there. Wasn't it?
    After all, he'd told her she was the exact spittin' image of her mama. Lola had never seen her mama—she'd died giving birth—but she just knew she must have been a handsome woman.
    She would have to have been, because her daddy never got over her. Lola was sure of that. "You're all she left me," he used to tell Lola, taking her after supper and placing her on his knee. He'd let her sip some of his rum toddy. It was real sweet the way she liked it. To this day, she still didn't drink anything but rum toddies.
    "You liked your old man a lot, huh?" Numie called from the living room.
    "Liked?" Lola asked, rushing back in, hands on her hips. "I was madly in love with him, child." She plopped down beside Numie on the satin sofa. Placing her feet on the coffee table, she smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her white nightgown.
    "You mean, like a woman with a man?"
    "Of course," Lola answered, getting up impatiently again. She wanted to talk, to tell someone, but she didn't trust Numie with this secret part of her life.
    In the bathroom once more, she took off her gown and inspected her red panties. My God, a stain! She'd have to get another pair, a fresh, nice, clean one. She liked to smell fresh and clean at all times, even if it meant changing her panties twenty times a day.
    Out of the top drawer, she selected a pair of red ones.
    That had been her daddy's favorite color. In fact, he was the one who launched her on a lifetime career of wearing red silk panties.
    She still remembered the first night her daddy got her to put on a pair of her mama's panties. He'd brought her things all the way from Jamaica—ouldn't bear to part with them. Daddy kept his former wife's clothing locked in the top drawer of a closet so none of his children could get at them. But one night he got a pair of panties, real silky ones, and asked Lola to try them on. They'd both had too many rum toddies that night. But she'd put on the panties, then accepted his invitation to climb up on his knee, like she always did. "You look like your mama,' he had said, "'cept for the color of your skin.'
    "What's the matter with my skin?" Lola had asked.
    "Nothing,' he told her. "'Cept your mama's skin was nearly white. All her life I never knew her to go out in the sun.'
    Lola resented that. She wanted to be white, too. Another dirty trick from Mother Nature, the old bitch.
    Astride his lap, Lola let her daddy take her for a ride. That time, though, his hands were different from before. "You're becoming quite a little woman,' he said. He'd started to tickle her thighs, even pinching her little bottom. "It's the cutest in the world,' he'd said.
    She'd wanted to ask him if it were cuter than her mama's, but hadn't dared.
    Then he'd turned her around, with her back rubbing up against him. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her. It had been very exciting. She'd thought he was just playing a game. Then with his finger he'd started poking through the silk panties at her rosebud. She'd felt him grow hard. He'd rubbed up against her, but didn't try to enter. He'd kissed her right after—right on the mouth, real hard. "Yes indeedy, you're getting more like your mama every day." With that, she knew she'd pleased him. It was the happiest moment of her life.
    After that night, she didn't need any more encouragement to wear silk panties. It was the most natural thing she'd ever done. Approving of herself finally in the mirror, she paraded into the living room.
    "You should