me. âGo get your pillow. Cordelia wonât sleep on anything but goose down.â
When I got back with my feather pillow, Mama had moved the flowers to a table by one of the windows.
âIt catches the sunlight,â I said.
âItâs too elegant for the rec room, but Cordelia will know we made things special for her.â She nudged a gladiola into place. âYour father canât complain. I even remembered the sherry.â
We went down the stairs. Mama sniffed the air. âTake a shower before you dress.â
âI had a shower this morning.â
âJune, you do not smell like a lady.â
I took the shower but didnât use soap. I put on my gray wool skirt, my white blouse with the Peter Pan collar, the red belt that matched my shoes. Then I got out the fab brooch Aunt Rita had given me and pinned it at my neck. The red jewels twinkled.
I was sitting in the queen chair when Stell came downstairs, looking just right, as usual. The den door opened. Puddin ran in. âTheyâre here! Daddy and Meemaw.â
I followed Puddin to the garage. Daddy had just opened the car door, and there was Meemaw, her face hidden by a low-brimmed brown hat. She put out her hand for Daddy to help her from the car. She was much fatter than I remembered and the top of her hat didnât reach my shoulder. âWhy, June, how youâveâand Carolinaâyou girls, you girls.â She squeezed my hand. Puddin hugged her, and her skinny arms didnât go halfway around Meemawâs middle.
âMy word, Carolina, youâre not a baby anyâso where is my grandson? Estelle, you standing there quietâI mean, a lady. Last time, I was dizzy with your chatter.â They put their arms around each other briefly. They were the same height, though Iâd never thought Stell was so short.
Daddy put his hand under Meemawâs elbow and said, âCome on, Mother, letâs go in the house.â It was strange to hear Daddy calling someone Mother.
Meemaw waddled through the breezeway, her body swaying from side to side.
Mama met us at the den door and said, âHello, Cordelia. Itâs so nice to have you.â They touched cheeks.
âIâll take your coat and hat, Miz Watts.â Mary stepped from behind Mama. She had on a black uniform, a starched apron, and a stiff little hat like a dollop of whipped cream plopped on her head. A maid from the movies.
Without the felt cloche and wool coat, Meemaw looked soft. Her gray hair swirled into a thick bun near the crown of her head, wisps curling around her face. In the den, she sat in Daddyâs platform rocker and put her feet on the ottoman. Her leather lace-ups were doll shoes on Daddyâs big footstool, and her ankles were so puffed out over the tops of her shoes I wanted to poke them.
Meemaw sighed loudly.
Daddy cleared his throat. âPaula, how about some coffee?â
Mama called over her shoulder, âMary? Coffee, please. The service.â
âWhereâs David?â Meemaw asked. âThought youâdâI mean, got to be getting big.â
âHeâs asleep,â I said.
âTakes good naps, does he?â
âUsually,â I said. âHeâs a great kid.â
Mama focused on the brooch glittering at my neck. She closed her eyes and looked pained, smoothed the skirt of her amber silk, touched her gold necklace.
Mary came in carrying a tray with the silver service on it. She put everything down on the coffee table and backed out. I wished sheâd stay.
Mama poured a cup of coffee and asked Meemaw, âCream and sugar?â
Meemaw shook her head. âDonât drink it this late in the day.â
Mama handed the cup to Daddy. âHow was your trip, Cordelia?â
âItâd be nice if we got what we paidâI mean, bumping along in a train car since early this morning.â
Nobody said anything while Meemaw sat and rocked slightly, the
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