“There’s a mess in the barn that’s got to be cleaned up before the boys go out to do chores.”
She walked stiffly through the kitchen and across the hall to the bedroom.
Fertile, Missouri
July 1922
L
ILLIAN RUSSELL’S DIED
!” Jill made the dramatic announcement and waited for her sister to comment. When Julie continued to wash the dishes and drop them in the rinse pan, she said, “All the wonderful women in the world are dying. First Nellie Bly and now Lillian.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Ruby May told me last night. Lillian was so beautiful, so elegant. All the men loved her.” Jill lifted her arms in a circling motion. “I’m going to be just like her.”
“You’ll have to grow some,” Julie said dryly. “She had quite a bosom. They were out to here.” Julie held her cupped, wet hands out six inches from her slender body.
“And a tiny waist.”
“Helped by a tight corset.”
“She was beautiful—”
“And old enough to be your grandma. Dry the dishes while you’re grieving for her.”
Jill took a plate from the hot rinse water, dried it and set it on the table.
“The men who gave her diamonds must have liked a woman with a big bust. Diamonds show up best lying on soft white flesh.”
“Soft white flesh? Glory be! Well, don’t worry about it. You’ve got a good start for a fifteen-year-old.” Julie slid a greasy skillet into the sudsy water.
“Jack said they were like half an orange stuck up there.”
Julie looked at her sister and frowned. “Why would Jack be making a remark about his sister’s breasts?”
“I asked him.”
“Justine Jill Jones!”
Jill rolled her eyes on hearing her full name. “I hate it when you call me that.”
“It’s the name Mama gave you.”
“I’ll never know why she added Justine to it.”
“She didn’t. She added Jill.”
“Kids at school laugh about our names. They say if Mama’d had more kids, she’d probably have named them Jericho and Jerusalem.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“Nothing. Kathy Jacobs said she should’ve named two of us Jenny and Jackass.” Jill giggled.
Julie’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. It didn’t bother her that all their names started with a
J
. She rather liked it.
“I never asked Jack about my bosom,” Jill said after she placed a stack of clean plates on the shelf. “I asked him if the boys at school thought I was pretty.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said …oh, he was so mean!” Jill flipped her long blond curls over her shoulder and tilted her freckled nose. “He said only the dumb ones thought I was pretty. He said my hair was like straw, my nose was so turned up he was surprised I didn’t drown when it rained.”
Julie laughed in spite of the serious look on her sister’s face.
“Never ask your brothers if you’re pretty. If you were a raving beauty they’d not admit it.”
“That’s when he said my breasts were the size of a half an orange.”
“It’s a pact made between brothers to tell their sisters that they are ugly as a mud fence even if they are as pretty as Mary Pickford.”
“I hate brothers!”
“Mable Normand is pretty.”
“She’s in
Molly O
at the Palace. I want to see it, but Papa said picture shows cost almost as much as a pair of stockings and I needed stockings more.” Jill sighed heavily.
“Julie, Julie, guess what?” Ten-year-old Jason came into the kitchen, letting the screen door slam behind him. He always shouted when he was excited—and at times when he wasn’t.
Since their mother’s death four years before, Julie had become the person her brothers and sisters came to with news, hurts and needs.
Jason stumbled onto the back porch, yanked open the screen door and bounded into the kitchen, shutting the door just in time to keep the shaggy brown dog, his constant companion, from following him. Besides being small for his age, Jason had been born with a deformed foot that made it necessary for him to wear a special shoe.
“Julie, guess what?” He was breathless.
“Well, let me think for a minute. Is it something exciting?” Jason nodded his head vigorously. “Land-a-livin’! I think I know! Bananas are growing out of the old stump out by the woodpile.”
“Ah, Julie, you’re so silly sometimes.” Jason stood as tall as his slight frame allowed. His muddy shoes were firmly planted on the clean kitchen floor.
“Ju-lie! Look at his shoes!” Jill sneered with sisterly disgust.
“Shut up.” Jason turned on his sister. “Open your trap again and I won’t tell ya!”
“What’s your news, Jason?” Julie poured water from the teakettle over the dishes in the pan.
“Joe … said that we’re havin’ a baseball game tonight. The Birches, the Humphreys, and Roy and Thad Taylor … Justine. Maybe the Jacobses and Evan Johnson. He helped at the Humphreys’ today, though he ain’t expecting no payback.”
“Who cares about
him
?” Jill snorted.
Jason knew he would get the full attention of his younger sister when he mentioned the Taylors. Jill had been eyeing both Roy and Thad Taylor even though Thad was Joe’s age.
“Joe told me to get out the bags we use for bases. I hope mice ain’t chewed ’em up.”
“Haven’t,” Julie corrected. “When was it decided to have a ball game?” She stopped working on the greasy skillet to give her full attention to her brother, who was inching toward the door, eager to be away.
“I dunno. They’ll be done hayin’ by midafternoon. Pa said to tell ya they’d noon at the Humphreys’.”
“Then I’ll go to town this afternoon. We’ll have a light supper.”
“Can I go?”
“No. You can help Jill watch Joy.”
“That’s … girl work!” Jason snorted.
“Just right for a sissy-britches,” Jill said snippily and took a handful of forks from the rinse pan.
“Shut up, Jus-tine!” Jason drew out the hated name because he knew that it would irritate his sister. “You’re so dumb, you stink. I gotta go.”
Julie grabbed a towel to dry her hands and went to the door to see Jason hurrying across the yard.
“Jason,” she called. “Where’s Joy?”
“I dunno.”
“Find her, please. She may have wandered off.”
“Ah, Sis, I wanta go back.”
“Honey, it’s a good mile to the Humphreys’.”
“I don’t care,” he shouted. “I told Joe I’d come back after I told ya. Jumpin’ catfish! Here comes Joy. She’s been in the mud. I ain’t touchin’ ’er.”
Julie went out onto the back porch and looked at the small girl. The blond curls that she had dampened and brushed around her finger to form fat curls not two hours ago were speckled with mud, as was Joy’s face. Mud covered her feet and legs up to the cuffs of her drawers, which came to just below her knees.
“Ah, Joy. You’re a mess. You can’t come in the house like that. Go to the pump. I’ll come wash you off.”
“I didn’t mean to, Julie.” The child’s impish grin told her sister that she was not a bit sorry.
“I’ll do it.” Jill leaped down the back steps. “Come on, stinkpot.”
“I ain’t no stinkpot, Jus-tine.” Joy’s hero was Jason. She had learned from him a way to irritate Jill. “Jus-tine, Jus-tine, Just-tine,” she said again and again, then stuck her tongue out and wriggled it.
Julie went back into the kitchen. At times her heart ached for Jason. He never complained about his foot, but she knew that he wished he could run like the other boys. Tonight at the ball game, he would bat and one of his older brothers would run the bases for him. She also wished that Jill would be kinder to him. The two were always hissing and snapping at each other like a dog and a cat.
Julie was finishing up the dishes when Jill came in, dragging Joy by the hand. The screen door slammed shut behind them.
“Here’s this good-for-nothin’ kid. I put her clothes in the tub on the porch.”
Julie looked down at the small girl and shook her head. Joy’s nakedness didn’t seem to bother her at all.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do with you. You can’t stay clean for a minute.”
“Ya can shoot me.” Big solemn eyes looked up at Julie.
“Shoot you? Where in the world did you get an idea like that?”
“Joe said it to Papa. Papa said, ‘I donno what to do with ya.’ Joe said, ‘Shoot ’er.’ ”
“They were teasing.”
“I’m not so sure,” Jill said. “Come on, brat. We’ll get you some bloomers, unless you want the boys to see your bare behind.”
“I don’t care,” Joy replied sassily.
Julie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. The name Joy was so right for the little one; she was the joy of the family. Her hair was curly, her eyes large and blue as the sky. Bright as a new penny and precocious, she was in danger of being terribly spoiled by doting brothers and sisters.
Julie put the kitchen in order. As she hung her apron on the back of a chair, Jill, with Joy in tow, came through the kitchen on the way to the front porch. Julie went upstairs to the room she shared with her sisters and changed out of her dress into a white blouse with a drawstring neckline and a blue skirt. Julie knew herself for what she was: a strong, slim woman with clear skin, a wide mouth and the responsibility of raising her siblings weighing heavily on her shoulders.
She looked at herself closely in the mirror as she braided, coiled and pinned her waist-length, wheat-colored hair to the back of her head. She had thought about getting a bob, but she feared what it would do to her already rather “unsteady” reputation. Her thick dark brows were slightly arched. Lashes, long and lush, framed light brown eyes that were both quiet and quick. Julie sighed. Nothing about her would cause a man to give her a second look. She was foolish, very foolish to dream that one would.
With a wide-brimmed straw hat set squarely on her head to shade her face as much as possible, she picked up the cloth bag she would use to carry home the few things she planned to get at the store.
On the porch she paused to give last-minute instructions to Jill.
“If I’m not back by the time Papa and the boys get here, tell them I’ll be here by suppertime. Be nice, Joy, and pay mind to what your sister tells you.”
“Do I have to?” The little girl’s merry blue eyes twinkled up at Julie.
“Yes, you little imp.” Julie smiled fondly at the child. “Come give me a kiss.”
“Are you going to the library?” Jill asked.
“Is there something you need to return?”
“No. I’d love to read
The Trail of the Lonesome Pine
and
Girl of the Limberlost
again. If they’re not in, get
Ramona
or
Freckles or A Knight of the Cumberland
.”
“You’ve read those books … several times. Why not try something new?”
“I’d rather read something I know I’ll like. Old Miss Rothe made us read
Ivanhoe
and
Lady of the Lake
. She thought they were romantic. I thought they were boring!”
“Agnes Rothe is a good teacher.”
“She’s an old maid! Bet she’s old as Papa.”
“She’s a good teacher even if she is
old
!” Julie retorted as she left the shade of the porch, stepped out into the bright July sunlight and walked down the lane toward the road. Sidney ran out from under the porch to follow. “You can’t go, Sidney.” Julie stopped and pointed a finger at the shaggy dog. “Why aren’t you with Jason?”