you’ve earned it
It’s the only bag in Mother’s house I could find large enough to carry the Miss Myrna letters. The leather is cracked and flaking, the thick shoulder strap leaves a brown mark on my blouse where the leather stain is rubbing off. It was my Grandmother Claire’s gardening bag. She used to carry her garden tools around the yard in it and the bottom is still lined with sunflower seeds tourism industry news. It matches absolutely nothing I own and I don’t care.
“Two weeks,” Hilly says to me, holding up two fingers. “He’s coming.” She smiles and I smile back. “I’ll be right back,” I say and I slip into the kitchen, carrying my satchel with me.
Aibileen is standing at the sink. “Afternoon,” she says quietly. It was a week ago that I visited her at her house.
I stand there a minute, watching her stir the iced tea, feeling the discomfort in her posture, her dread that I might be about to ask for her help on the book again. I pull a few housekeeping letters out and, seeing this, Aibileen’s shoulders relax a little. As I read her a question about mold stains, she pours a little tea in a glass, tastes it. She spoons more sugar in the pitcher.
“Oh, fore I forget, I got the answer on that water ring question. Minny say just rub you a little mayonnaise on it.” Aibileen squeezes half a lemon in the tea. “Then go on and throw that no-good husband out the door.” She stirs, tastes marketing course. “Minny don’t take too well to husbands.”
“Thanks, I’ll put that down,” I say. As casually as I can, I pull an envelope from my bag. “And here. I’ve been meaning to give you this.”
Aibileen stiffens back into her cautious pose, the one she had when I walked in. “What you got there?” she says without reaching for it.
“For your help,” I say quietly. “I’ve put away five dollars for every article. It’s up to thirty-five dollars now.”
Aibileen’s eyes move quickly back to her tea. “No thank you, ma’am.”
I hear chairs scraping on wood in the dining room, Elizabeth’s voice uk data sim.
“Please, Miss Skeeter. Miss Leefolt have a fit if she find you giving me cash,” Aibileen whispers.
“Two weeks,” Hilly says to me, holding up two fingers. “He’s coming.” She smiles and I smile back. “I’ll be right back,” I say and I slip into the kitchen, carrying my satchel with me.
Aibileen is standing at the sink. “Afternoon,” she says quietly. It was a week ago that I visited her at her house.
I stand there a minute, watching her stir the iced tea, feeling the discomfort in her posture, her dread that I might be about to ask for her help on the book again. I pull a few housekeeping letters out and, seeing this, Aibileen’s shoulders relax a little. As I read her a question about mold stains, she pours a little tea in a glass, tastes it. She spoons more sugar in the pitcher.
“Oh, fore I forget, I got the answer on that water ring question. Minny say just rub you a little mayonnaise on it.” Aibileen squeezes half a lemon in the tea. “Then go on and throw that no-good husband out the door.” She stirs, tastes marketing course. “Minny don’t take too well to husbands.”
“Thanks, I’ll put that down,” I say. As casually as I can, I pull an envelope from my bag. “And here. I’ve been meaning to give you this.”
Aibileen stiffens back into her cautious pose, the one she had when I walked in. “What you got there?” she says without reaching for it.
“For your help,” I say quietly. “I’ve put away five dollars for every article. It’s up to thirty-five dollars now.”
Aibileen’s eyes move quickly back to her tea. “No thank you, ma’am.”
I hear chairs scraping on wood in the dining room, Elizabeth’s voice uk data sim.
“Please, Miss Skeeter. Miss Leefolt have a fit if she find you giving me cash,” Aibileen whispers.
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