The Blue Mountain Review Issue 14

Jolene had a sinking feeling she knew who was calling to them. She pretended she didn't hear, but on the second "Yoohoo!" Aunt Rachel did.

"I think that's Shirley White calling us from inside the restaurant!" Rachel grabbed Jolene, pushed through the crowd, and joined the White’s table.

Shirley’s company wasn’t as terrible as Jolene had been expecting, because Shirley required everyone’s attention in order to tell her stories, freeing Jolene to let her face relax and her mind wander. According to Shirley, Cassie Maybin unpacked her husband’s suitcase after a business trip and found it full of women’s clothes. Mr. Maybin claimed it was an error at the airport. But Cassie was convinced he was having an affair. Shirley said it only confirmed what she had long suspected, that Jack Maybin was a little light in the loafers. As she said this, Shirley waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially and the table laughed. Jolene’s stomach turned over as she stretched her lips over her teeth, but she couldn’t force a laugh to come out. She imagined all the things that Shirley White would say about her in only a few months.

On the walk home from lunch Rachel kept burping and rubbing her sternum with her fist. Jolene was nervous that her aunt had such terrible indigestion. A block from their house, Rachel turned toward her and said, “I want to ask you something.”

Jolene pictured herself and the baby under a sleeping bag in an alley in damp December, and digging through hot and smelly dumpsters in July looking for scraps. This was the moment she’d been waiting months for: every time she’d scrubbed the toilet after she vomited; every time she winced when someone brushed against her sore chest; or when she was sure her face was green at the scent of eggs, or bacon, or pine cleanser; she was just waiting for that question from Rachel so she could spill her guts and beg for Rachel’s forgiveness. “Okay,” her voice cracked.

“The new man in your life, he’s a good Christian man, right?”

Jolene’s brows knit. “I don’t understand.”

“What is this world coming to, Jolene? Married men, with children, dressing like women and running around with other men! Seems like every Sunday we’re adding another brother or sister addicted to crack cocaine to the prayer list. Or someone’s daughter or niece who is pregnant and don’t know who the daddy is.”

Jolene’s mouth was dry and her head spun. It was her turn to rub her sternum with her fist.

“So, I guess,” Rachel continued, “I just want to make sure the people that you’re spending time with are quality, God-fearing people. Especially any young men. Your mother always had a lot of men in her life. Course, I don’t need to tell you that. Her greatest weakness, I think, was her taste in men, and her insatiable need for them. Even when we were girls much younger than you, we weren’t even wearing brassieres yet, and there were boys on our porch every night at sundown. Drove our Daddy crazy, but he kept it under control. When he died there was nothing Mama could do. Leah was just wild; it was in her blood.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

“No? But is there someone you’ve got your eye on?”

Issue 14 | Blue Mountain Review | 89