Mother and I used to make a whole meal of it in Denver. It's good at Childs', but their biscuits aren't as good as yours."
Trying to get around me for something. A flirt, like her mother. I could have had men chasing me too if I'd lowered myself. Lot of good it did Mae.
Small feet clattered sixteenth notes on the weathered boardwalk and three-quarter notes up the steps leading to the kitchen. "Look what was hanging on the front door for you, Lucy!"
Held-in excitement exploded in a geyser of laughter. "It's a May basket for you and Aunt Mabel."
Aunt Mabel's defensive mask cracked into fissures. The child might not be so bad if not for her shiftless mother. If only it was not so hard to say something pleasant. She probably had been included only for politeness' sake.
"Pussy, they're beautiful. Remember, Mabel, when we used to go to the river woods to pick flowers for May baskets?"
Tire dank river woods had only a few late sunspots because it was after school when she and Mae had gone for May flowers. One had to push aside wet brown leaves and matted pine needles to find, entangled in moss and sprouting fern, a sprinkle of blue stars sprung upright on pale stems. But when the flowers were gathered and she and Mae emerged from the secret woods into the lonely twilight that sense of separation returned. Was she actually plainer than Mae, or was it her pride and sense of right that hid from men the inner beauty she possessed? How unseeing men were, and how brazen seemingly delicate Mae who did not hesitate to show her love to Charles. It had been sickening to witness his physical eagerness. Filthy sniffing animals.
I'm glad I said they were for poor Aunt Mabel too. It must be awful to be an old maid.
Mae moved the clump of assorted condiments from the center of the china-white oilcloth for the hepaticas.
It was difficult for Mabel to remain aloof in the festive atmosphere and, lest they discover her naked of her grim façade, she went into the pantry for the rhubarb pie which, not to be beholden to them, she put into the oven to heat instead of serving cold as she first had planned.
Sated with the delicious lingering savor of liver, pickles, and rhubarb pie, smoothed together with mashed potatoes and gravy, Lucy leaned back and patted her stomach. "That was the best meal I
