Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
Page 30

Violet’s eyes grew misty. “Rose, I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I’ll make this right. I promise.”
“Maybe you should wait to see what’s in the box before you go offerin’ me anythin’. There might be a pirate’s booty in there.” I tried to sound lighthearted. None of this was Violet’s fault. There was no sense making her feel bad.
“How can you tease like that? Momma cut you out of her will!”
“No, she didn't. She gave me a box. Besides, it was no secret Momma didn’t like me. I’ll admit to bein’ pretty upset when I found out, but I’ve had time to get over it.”
Mostly.
“I should have been there for you,” she said, “but I was being stubborn and spiteful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, water under the bridge and all that. But I have other news to tell you.” My face lit up into a big smile, eager to change the subject.
Violet’s eyes twinkled in anticipation. It wasn't like me to get so excited. “What?”
“I got my first kiss last night!”
Her face froze in horror. “You what?”
I pinched my lips together in disappointment. That was not the reaction I expected. I lifted my chin in defiance. “I said I got my first kiss. And it was wonderful, thank you very much for asking.”
She raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, back up. When? Where? Who?”
“Last night. On my front porch. Joe.” I felt like I was playing a game of Clue.
She looked confused. “Joe? Joe who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Joe McAllister, my next door neighbor. Joe.”
Indignation filled her eyes. “Did he take advantage of you?”
“No! It was nothing like that. We were sittin’ on the front porch, drinkin’ Uncle Earl’s beer…”
“You were drinkin’ beer?” Her voice raised several decibels.
“Sure, why not? Uncle Earl does.”
“And you were drinkin’ it on the front porch? In front of all the neighbors? The ones who think you murdered our mother less than a week ago? And you kissed him? On the front porch?”
I sighed in disappointment. “I thought you would be happy for me. Why just a week ago you told me I should have sex.”
“With a respectable man! And not less than week after our momma was murdered!” My words must have sunk in because she gasped and clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh, my dear Lord. You didn’t have sex with him, did you?”
“Yes, Violet.” I said in a haughty tone. “I did. I had sex with him right there on the front porch, next to the pots of geraniums. I had to move ‘em though so Mildred could get a better view.” I had to wonder what the neighbors might have seen if Joe hadn’t turned me down.
“Rose!”
“And why would you think Joe isn’t respectable? You don't know anythin’ about him.”
“Exactly my point, Rose. We don’t know anything about him. Where does he work? What does he do? We don't know about his family.”
Anger rose up and my hands balled up into fists in my lap. “There you go, to the heart of the matter. You don’t know anything about his family, so that makes him suspect.”
“That’s not it, at all. He’s takin’ advantage of you at a vulnerable time. I don't trust him.”
We sat in silence, my heart breaking that we were fighting again. What had happened to us?
Violet cleared her throat. “If you would like to go out on a date, I am sure Mike knows someone we could fix you up with.”
“What?”
“You need to go out with a respectable man, from a good family. We can help you with that.” The way she squared her shoulders told me she had made up her mind and wouldn’t back down.
“So let me get this straight, if I want a boyfriend, you’re gonna get me one, one from a respectable family?” I waited for her to deny it. She didn't. “Oh my stars! You are! That’s exactly what you’re sayin’! You think I’m incapable of getting a boyfriend on my own?”
“Rose, be sensible. You are completely inexperienced. You are twenty-four years old and never had a boyfriend.”
“There are multiple reasons why…”
“Rose, reasons be damned, you are naive. Men will take advantage of you, honey. We have to make sure that you date men who will appreciate your…lack of dating history.”
I stood up. “I can not believe you are doin’ this.” I grabbed the box and put it in the bag.
“Rose!” Violet protested. “Just think about it, sweetie. I love you. I don't want you to get hurt.”
“Violet, I am not a child.” I picked up my purse and the bag. “You have got to stop treating me like one.”
“What has gotten into you, Rose?” she asked, following me to the door.
“I’m growing up, Violet. Deal with it.”
I got in my car and drove out of her neighborhood, not ready to go home yet. She hadn’t told me what she wanted to do with the house. Everything was a mess.
I drove past the dress shop and stopped on a whim. I felt good about how I looked at the visitation and funeral, and I was tired of wearing baggy, shapeless clothes. Besides, I could hear Violet in my head whining, “What will people say?” That settled it. I was shopping.
The saleswoman from the other day stood by the clearance rack when I entered the store. She saw me and did a double take. “You cut your hair.”