In West Mills by De'Shawn Charles Winslow

Author:De'Shawn Charles Winslow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

Two days after Knot swept up the pieces of broken plate, she felt an overwhelming craving for pecan pie, which Pep had shown her how to make. Although she had all she needed in the pantry, Knot convinced herself that she needed to go up-bridge, to the general store, for more sugar. And on her way back, she would stop to see the bootlegger.

At the store, she bought the sugar and a few other items, just to make the trip more worthwhile. Ayra and Brock spoke to her when she went to the counter to pay. They asked her how she had been doing and how her baking business was going. The Mannings were always kind to Knot, just as they were with all their customers.

“Thank y’all, hear?” Knot said after Ayra passed her the paper bag. “I really appreciate all y’all done and all y’all do.”

On her way out of the store, startled by the bell they had tied to the doorknob, Knot saw Eunice coming up the walkway. Well, shit. I guess I can’t run back, can I?

“Afternoon,” Knot said when she and Eunice passed each other. She did not expect the young lady with the V-shaped chin to respond, especially since Knot and everyone else knew Eunice could be as coarse as a hairbrush, even with her parents’ customers. So the town drunks didn’t have a chance with Miss Manning.

Before Knot turned her eyes from Eunice, she saw Delaware Williams’s thick eyebrows. It was the eyebrows that caused Knot to drop her groceries. Sugar and cornstarch covered her shoes. And the tomatoes she had gone to so much trouble to pick out were now covered in dirt and rock pebbles.

“Got everything, Knot?” Eunice asked.

Her voice. Even to hear Eunice speak—she hadn’t been close enough to Eunice to hear her speak in at least three years—was like listening to opera. She’d only said three words, but to Knot they were a song. Otis Lee had said Eunice sang beautifully, like a bird, high-pitched but not squeaky. But he didn’t mentioned that Eunice spoke beautifully, too.

“I got it,” Knot said. “Thank ya, though.”

Eunice moved closer to Knot. She smelled like lavender, but she looked as though she had just finished cleaning out an attic. Loose ponytail. Overalls. And there was the ill-tempered expression she was known for.

“Good people, aren’t they?” Eunice remarked. She folded her arms just as Dinah Bright would. “My mama and daddy. They good people.”

Strange thing to say to somebody while you standin’ there, watchin’ them pick up the groceries they just dropped, and ain’t lift a finger to help.

“Yeah,” Knot agreed, holding the bag in front of her chest like a shield. “They are. They better’n good.” Eunice drew in a deep breath, turned around, and went into the store.

Making a pecan pie was now the furthest thing from Knot’s mind. How could she concentrate on anything after seeing a little bit of her pa and Dinah Bright and Delaware William and even a bit

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