off a couple of inches. She’d said it didn’t matter if the length was uneven. A hair shorter here or there wasn’t going to make a penny’s worth of difference all wound up in a bun.
“Did you ever cut your hair short?” Jocie had asked. Jocie’s hair lapped her shoulders now, but she’d also had hair so short that she couldn’t wear a barrette much less a ponytail holder.
“Once, but I didn’t like it. So I let it grow back out,” Aunt Love had said. “I’ve had it in a bun like this for some forty years, I’d say. Truth is, my head like as not would lop over on my chest if it wasn’t anchored by that bun these days.”
Jocie had been surprised by the attempt at humor from Aunt Love. Sometimes she almost seemed like a regular person, but it never lasted long.
But now Jocie was determined to make it last longer. She was determined to stay out of trouble with Aunt Love, to not let it bother her when Aunt Love found fault, as she surely would, with anything Jocie did. She was determined to listen to her advice and not do things opposite for spite.
Being nice to Aunt Love was an act of thanks to the Lord for answering her dog prayer and her sister prayer. She still didn’t seewhy Tabitha had said the sister prayer was so hilarious. If she’d been praying the same thing for seven years, then she’d understand, but it didn’t seem as if Tabitha had been praying any kind of prayer lately. Maybe Jocie could help her brush up her praying skills before somebody asked her to say grace or anything.
Now Aunt Love corrected Jocie’s verse. “ ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.’ Psalm 118:24, but that’s very good, Jocie.”
“Thanks,” Jocie said. “Do you want me to do the eggs for Dad? Where is he, anyway? He’s usually up by now.”
“He went out early to walk the fields and pray, I suppose,” Aunt Love said.
“Oh, the vote. Do you think he’ll take it?”
“He should, but I don’t know what he’ll do. Your father has to make up his own mind what’s best,” Aunt Love said. “With the help of the Lord, of course.”
“Yeah,” Jocie said.
Aunt Love took the basket of eggs from Jocie. “You did the bacon. I’ll do the eggs.” Then Aunt Love saw the pan of biscuits on top of the stove and remembered. “Oh dear, I did it again, didn’t I? I say I’m not going to leave the kitchen after I put something on the stove, but then I end up back in the bedroom looking for something and lose my concentration.”
“Don’t worry about it, Aunt Love. Nothing burned.” Jocie sat a jar of blackberry jam on the table beside the butter. “Tabitha’s still dead to the world.”
“I doubt she’ll be up before noon, if then. The best thing for her is to sleep, get rested up. The next few weeks may be difficult for her.”
“Why?” Jocie asked.
Aunt Love hesitated before she said, “Adjusting to being back here. Getting used to us.”
“You mean laughing at us.”
“I guess I did seem pretty odd to her. But then everybody thinks I’m pretty odd.”
Jocie trotted out her new attitude. “No, Aunt Love. Maybe eccentric, but not odd.”
“I think if you look those words up in the dictionary, you’ll find they mean close to the same thing, Jocelyn,” Aunt Love said, but she was smiling.
“Where’s Jez—uh, Sugar?” Jocie asked to change the subject.
“Napping already. She was restless all night. Half had me worried, but I decided it was just a new person in the house.”
Or dog , Jocie thought. “I’ll go see if I can round Dad up for breakfast. Don’t fix me an egg. I’ll just eat biscuits and jam.”
“You don’t eat enough, child. You turn sideways, you’ll disappear,” Aunt Love muttered as Jocie went out the back door.
Zeb was waiting on the back step with a grin as if he hadn’t seen her for a month instead of just being shoved out the door fifteen minutes ago. Jocie grinned back and let him lick her fingers.
“Did you ever cut your hair short?” Jocie had asked. Jocie’s hair lapped her shoulders now, but she’d also had hair so short that she couldn’t wear a barrette much less a ponytail holder.
“Once, but I didn’t like it. So I let it grow back out,” Aunt Love had said. “I’ve had it in a bun like this for some forty years, I’d say. Truth is, my head like as not would lop over on my chest if it wasn’t anchored by that bun these days.”
Jocie had been surprised by the attempt at humor from Aunt Love. Sometimes she almost seemed like a regular person, but it never lasted long.
But now Jocie was determined to make it last longer. She was determined to stay out of trouble with Aunt Love, to not let it bother her when Aunt Love found fault, as she surely would, with anything Jocie did. She was determined to listen to her advice and not do things opposite for spite.
Being nice to Aunt Love was an act of thanks to the Lord for answering her dog prayer and her sister prayer. She still didn’t seewhy Tabitha had said the sister prayer was so hilarious. If she’d been praying the same thing for seven years, then she’d understand, but it didn’t seem as if Tabitha had been praying any kind of prayer lately. Maybe Jocie could help her brush up her praying skills before somebody asked her to say grace or anything.
Now Aunt Love corrected Jocie’s verse. “ ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.’ Psalm 118:24, but that’s very good, Jocie.”
“Thanks,” Jocie said. “Do you want me to do the eggs for Dad? Where is he, anyway? He’s usually up by now.”
“He went out early to walk the fields and pray, I suppose,” Aunt Love said.
“Oh, the vote. Do you think he’ll take it?”
“He should, but I don’t know what he’ll do. Your father has to make up his own mind what’s best,” Aunt Love said. “With the help of the Lord, of course.”
“Yeah,” Jocie said.
Aunt Love took the basket of eggs from Jocie. “You did the bacon. I’ll do the eggs.” Then Aunt Love saw the pan of biscuits on top of the stove and remembered. “Oh dear, I did it again, didn’t I? I say I’m not going to leave the kitchen after I put something on the stove, but then I end up back in the bedroom looking for something and lose my concentration.”
“Don’t worry about it, Aunt Love. Nothing burned.” Jocie sat a jar of blackberry jam on the table beside the butter. “Tabitha’s still dead to the world.”
“I doubt she’ll be up before noon, if then. The best thing for her is to sleep, get rested up. The next few weeks may be difficult for her.”
“Why?” Jocie asked.
Aunt Love hesitated before she said, “Adjusting to being back here. Getting used to us.”
“You mean laughing at us.”
“I guess I did seem pretty odd to her. But then everybody thinks I’m pretty odd.”
Jocie trotted out her new attitude. “No, Aunt Love. Maybe eccentric, but not odd.”
“I think if you look those words up in the dictionary, you’ll find they mean close to the same thing, Jocelyn,” Aunt Love said, but she was smiling.
“Where’s Jez—uh, Sugar?” Jocie asked to change the subject.
“Napping already. She was restless all night. Half had me worried, but I decided it was just a new person in the house.”
Or dog , Jocie thought. “I’ll go see if I can round Dad up for breakfast. Don’t fix me an egg. I’ll just eat biscuits and jam.”
“You don’t eat enough, child. You turn sideways, you’ll disappear,” Aunt Love muttered as Jocie went out the back door.
Zeb was waiting on the back step with a grin as if he hadn’t seen her for a month instead of just being shoved out the door fifteen minutes ago. Jocie grinned back and let him lick her fingers.
Similar Books
