Swan Place (17 page)

“No ma’am,” she finally said. “Mama said that wears clothes out too fast.”

“Good,” Aunt Bett pronounced. Then, “Apron!” she commanded.

And when everything was assembled, and Aunt Bett had one of my mama’s skinny little aprons tied across the front of her vast waist, she began showing us what to do with those pork chops. By the time she was done, there was a wonderful-smelling pork chop and rice casserole simmering away. “Now just let it cook nice and slow.”

We all stood there in front of the stove, looking at the Dutch oven with that heavy lid on it, and maybe we were thinking the same thing: It had something in it that we had all made, together.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Aunt Bett?” Crystal floated the words out into the steamy air.

“That would be nice,” Aunt Bett said. “And I’ll stay long enough to look at the casserole and see when it’s ready to finish cooking with the lid off.” Aunt Bett sat down at the kitchen table, fanning herself with her hand and with her cheeks bright red, like they always got when she was cooking. I sat down too, while Crystal made Aunt Bett’s cup of instant coffee. Crystal put the cup in front of Aunt Bett and a glass of milk in front of me, and then she sat down with us, with her own glass of milk. Aunt Bett and I both looked at Crystal’s glass of milk, and somehow, I was wishing Crystal had made herself a cup of coffee. But it was too late. Aunt Bett was studying Crystal’s face, like she was looking for something familiar in it. Like she was trying to see Crystal as another child in the family. But of course, there wasn’t anything for her to see—no eyebrows like Aunt Bett’s own mama, no slant of a jaw to remind Aunt Bett of herself. Nothing in which she could see a trace of what she would call
us
. She let her eyes drop. And what came down over that table with us sitting at it was
 . . .
just a big, fat
nothing
. Crystal and Aunt Bett were both studying the oilcloth tablecloth, and at last, so did I, looking at the printed-on little green teapots and faded pink flowers.

“How old are you really?” Aunt Bett asked so low that I almost didn’t hear her.

“Ma’am?” Crystal frowned.

“I said how old are you
really
.” Aunt Bett was still studying the printed figures on the tablecloth, tracing the edges of one with her finger.

“Old enough to be legally married,” Crystal said.

Aunt Bett looked up at Crystal and waited.

“I’m seventeen,” Crystal said, at last.

“You’re just a child,” Aunt Bett stated, her voice gone softer. Because if there was anything Aunt Bett couldn’t resist, it was a child. Any child. Even a child who had no resemblance to any kinfolk of ours.

“Well, yes’m, I guess that’s right.” The screen door to the front porch squeaked open, and Roy-Ellis’s booming voice came rolling into the silent kitchen.

“Whooo-eee! Something sure smells good in here!” And when Roy-Ellis loomed in the kitchen doorway with grease all over his T-shirt and hands, we all looked at him.

“What’s going on?” he grinned.

“Oh, Aunt Bett’s helping me and Dove fix some good pork chops,” Crystal sputtered.

“Good!” Roy-Ellis boomed. “Bett here is the best cook in the world!”

“Crystal will learn, Roy-Ellis. You just give her some time.” Bett’s face was dead serious. “Don’t you be impatient with her,” she warned.

“I won’t,” Roy-Ellis’s voice was just as serious as Aunt Bett’s had been. “I promise.”

“You’ve always been a good man,” she said. Then she must have remembered about his beer-drinking, because she added, “Mostly.”

“Thank you, Bett.”

“Well, I better go,” she said. “In about forty-five minutes, you can take the lid off and let the rest of the liquid steam off a little bit. And heat up that cornbread in the oven.”

We did everything just
the way Aunt Bett said, and what a good dinner we had. Even Little Ellis ate everything on his plate and held it out for more. At the last, Roy-Ellis pushed back his chair and patted his stomach.

“That was real good,” he pronounced. “If you all can remember what Aunt Bett said to do, I’ll bring home more pork chops.”

“We can remember,” Crystal said. “And how about bringing home some chicken too?”

Roy-Ellis heaved a sigh. “Tell you the truth, I’m not real crazy about chicken.” He gave a little shudder.

“But I fixed it the other evening, and you liked it!” Crystal’s voice raised up a little. Roy-Ellis studied his fingernails.

“Naw, sugar. I ate it ‘cause I love you.”

“Oh!” Crystal breathed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“No—don’t be sorry,” Crystal begged. “I just can’t believe that you ate something you didn’t like
 . . .
for me.”

“It’s the trucks,” Roy-Ellis said. And then he corrected himself. “It’s all those chickens in the trucks.” Crystal got up, went around the table, hugged Roy-Ellis’s neck from behind, and kissed the top of his head, like he was a little boy or something. Roy-Ellis’s ears turned red.

“No more chicken,” Crystal murmured into his hair.

I put Molly and Little Ellis
down for their naps while Crystal started doing the dishes. When I went back in the kitchen to help her, Roy-Ellis was drying the dishes. Crystal had her hands in the soapy water and was resting her head against Roy-Ellis’s strong arm, and they were laughing together. So I went back to writing on my story about Mama. I was just at the place in her story where Daddy had run off and Roy-Ellis took to coming around. I thought about what Aunt Bett had said about him, and I decided she wouldn’t mind if I used her words. So I wrote, “Roy-Ellis has always been a good man. Mostly.”

After the dishes were done, Roy-Ellis came into the dining room, where I was writing in my notebook. I covered the page with my arm.

“Dove, me and Crystal want to go out this evening. You’ll be okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “You all going dancing?”

“Yep, if you don’t mind staying with Molly and Little Ellis.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said. In a while, I heard the shower start up and then Crystal was giggling again in the bedroom. I liked hearing that. I guess I could have felt resentful, because of Crystal being so young and pretty
 . . .
and full of good health, when my poor little mama was
gone
, but somehow or other, those feelings just didn’t come. Maybe I was grateful that Roy-Ellis wasn’t going to dump me and Molly off on Aunt Bett and move away with Crystal and his own son, Little Ellis. Whatever the reason, I did like hearing Crystal laugh.

After a while, Roy-Ellis came out of the bedroom wearing his cowboy outfit and smelling like cologne. He went to the mirror in the living room and settled his cowboy hat just right.

“You almost ready, Crystal?”

“In a minute, honey,” she called from the bedroom. And when she came out, I could hardly believe my eyes! Why, she looked just like a little doll. Under her white cowboy hat, her blond hair was a mass of curls that hung down over the shoulders of a little white jacket that was so short, her whole stomach was showing, and her white shorts started just below her belly button and stopped as soon as possible! She had on some kind of silvery tights and was wearing white cowboy boots with tassels on them.

“Do I look okay?” She twirled around. Still, nobody said a thing. I’d almost forgotten Roy-Ellis was even in the room, until I heard his voice, strong and low.

“Honey, you better go change your clothes,” he ordered, and there was something dangerous in his voice. Something I’d never heard in it before.

“What?” Crystal was clearly surprised, and I saw it go all over her. Because she certainly did look so pretty, and I guess she thought Roy-Ellis would be happy with the way she looked.

“I said you better go change your clothes, Crystal. You’re my wife now, and I don’t want you dancing in that outfit.”

“What?” she said again, and I watched the last little bit of that smile just fall right off her face.

“You’re not dancing in that outfit,” Roy-Ellis’s voice was louder.

“What on earth are you talking about? What are you talking about? It’s my job.”

Her job?
I was thinking.
Crystal’s job is dancing?

“Not anymore.”

“Roy-Ellis, what on earth are you talking about?” She was getting close to tears.

Molly, Little Ellis, and I were looking back and forth from one to the other.

“Roy-Ellis!” she pleaded. “It’s my job!” Then she jutted out her chin and stamped her foot, making the tassels on her boot go to swinging.

“No it isn’t!” Roy-Ellis hollered back at her. We all jumped. “We’ll find you another job. There’s a real nice beauty shop on the back porch. We’ll fix that up for you.”

“No Roy-Ellis! I’m a dancer!” Crystal turned her back on Roy-Ellis.

“Honey, I can’t let you stand up there and dance in front of all those men.” Roy-Ellis explained. Then he added, “And you half naked like that.” He lurched uncertainly across the room and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t cry, sugar,” he begged. “You just go put on those jeans I like so much and that pretty pink blouse of yours, and we’ll go to Across the Line. But both of us will be customers.”

Both be customers? Crystal’s job was being a dancer at Across the Line?

Crystal started whimpering, with Roy-Ellis’s big hands on her little shoulders starting to pat her just a little bit.

“I can’t stand having those men looking at my wife,” Roy-Ellis continued, but somehow, Crystal was beyond his words.

At last, she turned and faced him. “You sh-shoulda told me, Roy-Ellis,” she stammered. “I’m a dancer! You shoulda told me you were gonna make me stop after we got married.”

“But, hon, you can still dance—only not in that outfit and not in front of other men. Go on now and get on some jeans, and then you can dance
 . . .
but only with me.” Crystal’s face crumpled, and she ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

For the first time, Roy-Ellis looked at us.

“She’s gone to change her clothes, I reckon,” he said, uncertainly. And he lifted his cowboy hat carefully off his head, sat down in a chair, and slowly turned the hat around and around, by the brim. We all waited like that for long minutes, and then Roy-Ellis went and knocked on the bedroom door. “You almost ready, sugar?” he called.

“No!” came the angry reply.

“Aw, come on, Crystal,” he pleaded.

“No!”

“Honey, try and understand
 . . .
please?”

“No!” The back of Roy-Ellis’s neck started turning a deep red.

“Crystal?”

“No!”

“Well all right then!” Roy-Ellis shouted, and we all jumped again. “If you won’t come, I’m going alone!” He waited for a moment at the door, and when Crystal said nothing, he stomped back through the living room, settled his hat back on his head, and slammed the front door behind him. We heard his truck start up, and the tires squealed and kicked up gravel as he drove away.

Later, I went to the bedroom door and tapped on it lightly. There was no answer, so I guessed Crystal must have cried herself to sleep.

When I woke up,
it was full daylight, and the first thing I thought about was that I hadn’t heard Roy-Ellis come home. I looked out of the window. His truck was still gone.

Crystal was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk in front of her.