Blackberry Days of Summer: A Novel (Zane Presents) by Ruth P. Watson

Author:Ruth P. Watson [Watson, Ruth P.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781593094133
Amazon: B00B5591HC
Publisher: Strebor Books
Published: 2012-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

PEARL

I could not get over the feeling of someone lurking around watching me from behind an oak tree or around the side of the barn. When my momma and I went to town to purchase fabric, and we stood waiting for the owner to meticulously cut the piece of fabric, I could still sense a presence. I found myself glancing over my shoulder, peering out the side of my eyes at nothing and nobody. When we put the items in the buggy, I still felt someone was looking at me. At first I thought it was paranoia because of my boredom. Even though I had agreed to sing at the joint, the crowd could not give me the same elation as the ever-changing crowd in Washington, D.C. Then I realized my feelings of being watched were real and who the voyeur was. As the blue sky started to darken and the clouds rose across the sky and set off a turbulent storm, Willie showed up at my parents’ house with papers hanging out of his back pocket.

He stood tall, with his shoulders squared, petitioning to come in the house. Momma warned him before he took the first step, “Now, Willie, we ain’t gonna have no shit ’round here. You came to see Pearl. Now understand here, she my child and you better not raise a hand to her. The only ones with that authority is me and her daddy.”

“Mrs. Annie May,” he pleaded, “it was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t.”

She pointed her chubby finger at him. “You wait right here. Don’t step foot in here. Let me see if she want to see ya.”

Willie waited impatiently on the porch, pacing back and forth.

I had been listening the whole time. “It’s all right, let him in,” I said with reservation in my voice.

“You sure?” Momma asked, and paused before going back to the front door.

“It’ll be all right.”

She went back out there and allowed him in the house.

I was sitting in a chair, dressed in a housedress Momma had made for me. In my opinion it was a far too common design. She had said my clothes were too dressy for the work in the country. Willie had on a blue shirt, black pants, and brogan boots. He had shaved, and for the first time in a while, I could see his dark lips without the mustache. It had erased years off his face.

He reached to hug me, but caught himself and held back.

“You look good, Pearl,” he said and sat down in the high-back chair facing me.

My momma stood with her arms crossed, monitoring our conversation, like she had when I was a teenager and boys had come to visit.

She’d sit in the chair across from us with a patch quilt across her lap and a needle and thread in her hand, sewing swatches of different colors of leftover fabric. Occasionally, she’d glance at us to make sure we kept a good distance between us.

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