Francis the First is just dreamy, I beam. Why, I pull those forks out all the time just to look at them.
Mother narrows her eyes at me. I motion her to the kitchen, but another ten minutes pass until she comes in.
Where in the world are your keys, Mama? Im late for Hillys. Im staying there tonight.
What? But Carltons home. Whats his new friend going to think if you leave for something better to do?
Ive put off telling her this because I knew, whether Carlton was home or not, it would turn into an argument.
And Pascagoula made a roast and Daddys got the wood all ready for a fire tonight in the relaxing room.
Its eighty-five degrees[85] outside, Mama.
Now look. Your brother is home and I expect you to behave like a good sister. I dont want you leaving until youve had a nice long visit with this girl. Shes looking at her watch while I remind myself Im twenty-three years old. Please, darling, she says and I sigh and carry a damn tray of mint juleps out to the others.
Mama, I say back in the kitchen at five twenty-eight. Ive got to go. Where are your keys? Hillys waiting on me.
But we havent even had the pigs in a blanket yet.
Hillys got a stomach bug, I whisper. And her help doesnt come in tomorrow. She needs me to watch the kids.
Mother sighs. I guess that means youre going to church with them too. And I thought we could all go tomorrow as a family. Have Sunday dinner together.
Mama, please, I say, rummaging through a basket where she keeps her keys. I cant find your keys anywhere.
You cant take the Cadillac overnight. Thats our Good Sunday church car.
Hes going to be at Hillys in thirty minutes. Im supposed to dress and do my makeup at Hillys so Mother wont suspect anything. I cant take Daddys new truck. Its full of fertilizer and I know hell need it at dawn tomorrow.
Alright, Ill take the old truck, then.
I believe it has a trailer on it. Go ask your daddy.
But I cant ask Daddy because I cant go through this in front of three other people who will look all hurt that Im leaving, so I grab the old truck keys and say, It doesnt matter. Im just going straight to Hillys, and I huff outside only to find that not only does the old truck have a trailer hitched to it, but a half-ton tractor on top of that trailer.
So I drive into town for my first date in two years in a red 1941 Chevrolet four-on-the-floor with a John Deere motor grader hooked behind me. The engine sputters and churns and I wonder if the truck will make it. Chunks of mud spray behind me off the tires. The engine stalls on the main road, sending my dress and bag flying onto the dirty floor. I have to restart twice.
At five forty-five, a black thing streaks out in front of me and I feel a thunk. I try to stop but brakings just not something you can do very quickly with a 10,000-pound piece of machinery behind you. I groan and pull over. I have to go check. Remarkably, the cat stands up, looks around stunned, and shoots back into the woods as quickly as it came.
At three minutes to six, after doing twenty in a fifty with horns honking and teenagers hollering at me, I park down the street from Hillys house since Hillys cul-de-sac[86] doesnt provide adequate parking for farm equipment. I grab my bag and run inside without even knocking, all out of breath and sweaty and windblown and there they are, the three of them, including my date. Having highballs in the front living room.
I freeze in the entrance hall with all of them looking at me. William and Stuart both stand up. God, hes tall, has at least four inches over me. Hillys eyes are big when she grabs my arm. Boys, well be right back. Yall just sit tight and talk about quarterbacks or something.
Hilly whisks me off to her dressing room and we both start groaning. Its just so goddamn awful.
Skeeter, you dont even have lipstick on! Your hair looks like a rats nest!
I know, look at me! All traces of the Shinalators miracle are gone. Theres no air-conditioning in the truck. I had to ride with the damn windows down.
I scrub my face and Hilly sits me in her dressing room chair. She starts combing my hair out the way my mother used to do, twisting it into these giant rollers, spraying it with Final Net.
Well? What did you think of him? she asks.
I sigh and close my unmascaraed eyes. He looks handsome.
I smear the makeup on, something I hardly even know how to do. Hilly looks at me and smudges it off with a tissue, reapplies it. I slip into the black dress with the deep V in the front, the black Delman flats. Hilly quickly brushes out my hair. I wash my armpits with a wet rag and she rolls her eyes at me.
I hit a cat, I say.
Hes already had two drinks waiting on you.
I stand up and smooth my dress down. Alright, I say, give it to me. One to ten.[87]
Hilly looks me up and down, stops on the dip in the front of the dress. She raises her eyebrows. Ive never shown cleavage before in my life; kind of forgot I had it.
Six, she says, like she is surprised herself.
We just look at each other a second. Hilly lets out a little squeal and I smile back. Hillys never given me higher than a four.