so."
"Mama..." The baby reached toward her, but Will held him in place.
"You sit here a minute, sport. You'll get your mama all muddy."
Suddenly Eleanor's face crinkled and a chuckle began deep in her throat. Will shot her a glare.
"What you laughin' at?"
"0h, mercy, if you could see the picture you three make." She covered her mouth and doubled forward, laughing. "It just struck me."
Sudden anger boiled up in Will. How dare she stand there cackling when he'd just had five good years scared out of him! When his heart was knocking so hard his temples hurt! When he sat with the mud oozing up through his only pair of jeans! And all because of her and her boys!
"There ain't a damn thing funny, so stop your crowin'!" He planted both boys on their feet as if they were spades and he was done shoveling. Clumsily he extracted himself from the mud and stood bowlegged, like a toddler with full diapers. All the while she giggled behind her hand. Giggled, for chrissake, when she could be standing there at this very minute having a miscarriage!
He got madder. His head jutted forward. "You crazy, woman?"
"I reckon I am," she managed through her laughter. "Leastways, they all say so, don't they?"
Her good humor only intensified his choler. Incensed, he pointed. "You git up to the house and—and—" But he didn't know what to advise. Hell, what was he, a midwife?
"I'm going, Mr. Parker, I'm going," Eleanor returned jauntily. She punched out the dome of his hat and plopped it on her own head, where it fell past her ears. "But how could I pass by without noticing you sitting there in the mud?" She reached down for Baby Thomas and Will barked, "I'll take care of them! Just get up there and see to yourself!"
She turned away, chuckling, and waddled up the path.
Damn woman didn't have the sense God gave a box of rocks if she didn't realize she should be flat on her back, resting, after the fall she'd taken. It'd take some getting used to, living with a single-minded woman who laughed at him every chance she got. And didn't she know what a scare she gave him? Now that it was over, his knees felt like a pair of rotting tomatoes. That, too, made him mad. Getting watery-kneed over somebody else's woman, and a stranger to boot! None too gently, he called after her, "How long does this mud have to be on 'em?"
From up the path she called, "Ten minutes or so should do it. I'll fix somethin' to help the itching." She dropped his hat on the porch step and disappeared inside.
Will removed the boys' shoes and let them play in the mud. He himself felt twenty pounds heavier with so much goo hanging off his backside. Now and then he glanced at the house, but she stayed inside. He didn't know if he wanted her to come out or not. Confounded woman, standing there laughing at him while he was trying to calm down her howling kids. And nobody wore his hat. Nobody!
At the house, Eleanor set to work smashing plantain leaves with a mortar and pestle. You really don't know a person till you see him mad. So now she'd seen Will Parker mad, and even riled he was pretty mellow—a good sign. What a sight he'd made, sitting in that mudhole with his dark eyes snapping. If he stayed, years from now they'd laugh about it.
She looked up and saw a sight that made her hands fall still. "Well, would y' look at that," she murmured to herself. Will Parker came stalking toward the house with her two naked sons on his arms. Their rumps looked pink and plump against Parker's hard brown arms, their hands fragile on his wiry shoulders. He had a long-legged stride, but moved as if hurry were a stranger to him. His head was bare, his shirt unbuttoned with the tails flapping, and he scowled deeply. What a sight to see her boys with a man again. Strangers scared them, but in less than a day they had taken to Will Parker. And in the same length of time she'd seen all she needed to be convinced he'd do all right at daddyin',
"Mama..." The baby reached toward her, but Will held him in place.
"You sit here a minute, sport. You'll get your mama all muddy."
Suddenly Eleanor's face crinkled and a chuckle began deep in her throat. Will shot her a glare.
"What you laughin' at?"
"0h, mercy, if you could see the picture you three make." She covered her mouth and doubled forward, laughing. "It just struck me."
Sudden anger boiled up in Will. How dare she stand there cackling when he'd just had five good years scared out of him! When his heart was knocking so hard his temples hurt! When he sat with the mud oozing up through his only pair of jeans! And all because of her and her boys!
"There ain't a damn thing funny, so stop your crowin'!" He planted both boys on their feet as if they were spades and he was done shoveling. Clumsily he extracted himself from the mud and stood bowlegged, like a toddler with full diapers. All the while she giggled behind her hand. Giggled, for chrissake, when she could be standing there at this very minute having a miscarriage!
He got madder. His head jutted forward. "You crazy, woman?"
"I reckon I am," she managed through her laughter. "Leastways, they all say so, don't they?"
Her good humor only intensified his choler. Incensed, he pointed. "You git up to the house and—and—" But he didn't know what to advise. Hell, what was he, a midwife?
"I'm going, Mr. Parker, I'm going," Eleanor returned jauntily. She punched out the dome of his hat and plopped it on her own head, where it fell past her ears. "But how could I pass by without noticing you sitting there in the mud?" She reached down for Baby Thomas and Will barked, "I'll take care of them! Just get up there and see to yourself!"
She turned away, chuckling, and waddled up the path.
Damn woman didn't have the sense God gave a box of rocks if she didn't realize she should be flat on her back, resting, after the fall she'd taken. It'd take some getting used to, living with a single-minded woman who laughed at him every chance she got. And didn't she know what a scare she gave him? Now that it was over, his knees felt like a pair of rotting tomatoes. That, too, made him mad. Getting watery-kneed over somebody else's woman, and a stranger to boot! None too gently, he called after her, "How long does this mud have to be on 'em?"
From up the path she called, "Ten minutes or so should do it. I'll fix somethin' to help the itching." She dropped his hat on the porch step and disappeared inside.
Will removed the boys' shoes and let them play in the mud. He himself felt twenty pounds heavier with so much goo hanging off his backside. Now and then he glanced at the house, but she stayed inside. He didn't know if he wanted her to come out or not. Confounded woman, standing there laughing at him while he was trying to calm down her howling kids. And nobody wore his hat. Nobody!
At the house, Eleanor set to work smashing plantain leaves with a mortar and pestle. You really don't know a person till you see him mad. So now she'd seen Will Parker mad, and even riled he was pretty mellow—a good sign. What a sight he'd made, sitting in that mudhole with his dark eyes snapping. If he stayed, years from now they'd laugh about it.
She looked up and saw a sight that made her hands fall still. "Well, would y' look at that," she murmured to herself. Will Parker came stalking toward the house with her two naked sons on his arms. Their rumps looked pink and plump against Parker's hard brown arms, their hands fragile on his wiry shoulders. He had a long-legged stride, but moved as if hurry were a stranger to him. His head was bare, his shirt unbuttoned with the tails flapping, and he scowled deeply. What a sight to see her boys with a man again. Strangers scared them, but in less than a day they had taken to Will Parker. And in the same length of time she'd seen all she needed to be convinced he'd do all right at daddyin',
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