Rhythm and Bluegrass by Harper Molly

Author:Harper, Molly [Harper, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2013-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

10

In Which My Butt Catches the Bull by the Horns

Miss Martha was an attentive, if inconsistent, hostess. While she lived simply and didn’t seem to care much for the antiques in her home, her family had clearly had money at some point. My guest room was an opulent oriental-themed dream room circa 1956. The walls were papered in elaborate cherry blossom designs. My dressing table had a huge round stylized mirror with classic scrollwork, not to mention the sculpture of a young Japanese woman reclining on a bench. I slept in a dark maple four-poster with a shockingly small mattress. Between the size and the fact that the mattress sank down into the frame as I slept, I felt like I was sleeping in a dresser drawer. Clearly, beds were sized differently in the “old days.”

Miss Martha had small hips and shoulders that were slightly stooped, from a lifetime of bending over a sewing machine, I imagined. A pair of heavy black glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck. The only makeup she wore was a raisin-colored lipstick, and that was only on special occasions. She believed in big Southern-standard meals: chicken-fried steak, tuna noodle casseroles, and smothered pork chops, served with vegetables that had lost their nutritional content long before they reached the table. And all meals were immediately followed by unfiltered cigarettes on the back porch. She was pretty nice about my not joining her in smoking.

Miss Martha was always sewing some project, usually something small she could keep in her lap while we talked. It was always something different; blue satin one day, black velveteen the next. And there seemed to be a lot of plastic boning involved. I never saw the completed projects, but I figured if she wanted to share them with me, she would. And I think she appreciated the fact that I didn’t pry.

I mostly kept to my room when I was home, so my time with Miss Martha was usually limited to mealtimes and late evenings after I got back from the music hall. I was working like a dog at McBride’s. I cleaned. I scrapped debris after I determined it had no historical value. I smuggled two student volunteers from a local community college history class and had them scrubbing the hamburger counter for extra credit, until the stainless steel was so clean we could have used it for food service again. I contacted Sadie’s approved fabricators to discuss designs for the displays. I placed orders for the TV screens and digital displays I would need. I hired a contractor to rewire the building to allow for the increased electrical use without an actual fire. I carefully removed posters from the walls and arranged for them to be shipped to my framers, along with whatever photos I could salvage. Featured photos and documents would go under specially lit Plexiglas cases. I catalogued artifacts as I found them and sketched out where they would be placed in the displays. I cleaned everything meticulously.

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