Keep your money.”
She laid her napkin folded up nice on the table and left.
Miss Lizzy sighed. “Why can’t I say anything right to that girl? I’m tired of fighting with her, worrying about every word I say.”
I waited, thinking out my words. Letting Miss Lizzy settle a little.
“Miss Lizzy,” I said. “If Quincy and me wasn’t here and you invited some friends over for tea . . .” I had to stop. Get everything straight inside my head. “And you couldn’t handle the teacups. Would you ask one of your friends to serve the cake?”
“Well, yes, but I . . .”
I must have caught something from Quincy, because I cut short a full-grown-up woman. “Would you pay her for doing it?”
Miss Lizzy sighed again. “But, Biddy, I already pay you and Quincy to take care of me. And this is something extra I want Quincy to do.”
“Yes, ma’am, but we live here. You asked us to sit at your table. It’s different than Quincy working extra hours at the Brown Cow.”
“I don’t see that . . .”
I done it again. I was for sure catching a bad case of Quincy-mouth. “When I come to you. Asked you to draw me a map to the feed store. Did I pay you?”
Miss Lizzy was getting some smarter. She didn’t talk.
“I asked you a favor, like a friend.”
Miss Lizzy looked off out the window.
“I’m sorry if I’m not explaining it right. I can’t get things lined up in my head.”
Miss Lizzy turned back to me. “I think you explained it the best way anyone could.”
I took those words straight upstairs with me. Talked them right on a tape, ’cause I don’t never want to forget them.
I put in my hours at the Brown Cow. I kept myself to myself most of yesterday and Jen and Ellen purty much give up trying to get me to be friendly, so I fret and chop and clean without no one bothering me. At home I fix dinner and for sure felt like having me a nap. I’m tired to the bone from seein’ Robert ’round every corner when he ain’t really there, I’m weary of jumpin’ at every noise and thinkin’ badness is right there coming to get me, and I’m just sad when I look down at my stomach.
But Lizabeth’s important friend was coming. Lizabeth had a cheesecake from the bakery, so I guess she thought I’d poison her dead if I made the dessert. I was too tired to get stirred up about it.
Me and Biddy took showers and got on our good dresses and tromped to Lizabeth’s. I commenced to slice up the cheesecake and make a tray. I got out white napkins, made tea, and went into the dining room to fetch the silver tea set. I heard voices in the living room and look in.
I almost drop the tea tray. I knew the woman setting on the couch.
It was the judge’s wife. What could Lizabeth be thinking? She couldn’t let Biddy meet this woman.
Quincy come in from the dining room toting the silver tea set. She hardly got the tray to the table in one piece, she was shaking so hard.
“Biddy, you got to listen to me. . . .”
“Biddy,” Miss Lizzy called from the living room. “Could you come in here, please?”
Quincy grabbed hold of my arm. “Don’t go. I’ll tell you why later. Don’t go in there.”
“Quincy, what you so scaredy of ? Who’s in there?”
“It’s the judge’s wife, and I’ll tell you why you don’t want to meet her back at our ’partment, but . . .”
I patted Quincy’s hand just like Miss Lizzy does me. “Don’t worry your head, Quincy. I know ’bout the Mrs. Judge.”
“No,” Quincy said. “You don’t.”
“You know what my granny said to me after I had my baby?”
Quincy stared at me.
“She said, ‘The rich gets richer and the poor gets children and sometimes the rich gets the poor’s children.’”
“But . . .”
I hushed Quincy. “Granny said that when we was in the store. Mrs. Judge was pushing a pretty little blue-eyed baby in a stroller.”
Quincy let go my arm. “I still don’t think you should oughta go in there. That woman ain’t here to make some poor
She laid her napkin folded up nice on the table and left.
Miss Lizzy sighed. “Why can’t I say anything right to that girl? I’m tired of fighting with her, worrying about every word I say.”
I waited, thinking out my words. Letting Miss Lizzy settle a little.
“Miss Lizzy,” I said. “If Quincy and me wasn’t here and you invited some friends over for tea . . .” I had to stop. Get everything straight inside my head. “And you couldn’t handle the teacups. Would you ask one of your friends to serve the cake?”
“Well, yes, but I . . .”
I must have caught something from Quincy, because I cut short a full-grown-up woman. “Would you pay her for doing it?”
Miss Lizzy sighed again. “But, Biddy, I already pay you and Quincy to take care of me. And this is something extra I want Quincy to do.”
“Yes, ma’am, but we live here. You asked us to sit at your table. It’s different than Quincy working extra hours at the Brown Cow.”
“I don’t see that . . .”
I done it again. I was for sure catching a bad case of Quincy-mouth. “When I come to you. Asked you to draw me a map to the feed store. Did I pay you?”
Miss Lizzy was getting some smarter. She didn’t talk.
“I asked you a favor, like a friend.”
Miss Lizzy looked off out the window.
“I’m sorry if I’m not explaining it right. I can’t get things lined up in my head.”
Miss Lizzy turned back to me. “I think you explained it the best way anyone could.”
I took those words straight upstairs with me. Talked them right on a tape, ’cause I don’t never want to forget them.
I put in my hours at the Brown Cow. I kept myself to myself most of yesterday and Jen and Ellen purty much give up trying to get me to be friendly, so I fret and chop and clean without no one bothering me. At home I fix dinner and for sure felt like having me a nap. I’m tired to the bone from seein’ Robert ’round every corner when he ain’t really there, I’m weary of jumpin’ at every noise and thinkin’ badness is right there coming to get me, and I’m just sad when I look down at my stomach.
But Lizabeth’s important friend was coming. Lizabeth had a cheesecake from the bakery, so I guess she thought I’d poison her dead if I made the dessert. I was too tired to get stirred up about it.
Me and Biddy took showers and got on our good dresses and tromped to Lizabeth’s. I commenced to slice up the cheesecake and make a tray. I got out white napkins, made tea, and went into the dining room to fetch the silver tea set. I heard voices in the living room and look in.
I almost drop the tea tray. I knew the woman setting on the couch.
It was the judge’s wife. What could Lizabeth be thinking? She couldn’t let Biddy meet this woman.
Quincy come in from the dining room toting the silver tea set. She hardly got the tray to the table in one piece, she was shaking so hard.
“Biddy, you got to listen to me. . . .”
“Biddy,” Miss Lizzy called from the living room. “Could you come in here, please?”
Quincy grabbed hold of my arm. “Don’t go. I’ll tell you why later. Don’t go in there.”
“Quincy, what you so scaredy of ? Who’s in there?”
“It’s the judge’s wife, and I’ll tell you why you don’t want to meet her back at our ’partment, but . . .”
I patted Quincy’s hand just like Miss Lizzy does me. “Don’t worry your head, Quincy. I know ’bout the Mrs. Judge.”
“No,” Quincy said. “You don’t.”
“You know what my granny said to me after I had my baby?”
Quincy stared at me.
“She said, ‘The rich gets richer and the poor gets children and sometimes the rich gets the poor’s children.’”
“But . . .”
I hushed Quincy. “Granny said that when we was in the store. Mrs. Judge was pushing a pretty little blue-eyed baby in a stroller.”
Quincy let go my arm. “I still don’t think you should oughta go in there. That woman ain’t here to make some poor
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