serial

Charley’s Tale

Ellen Pendergrass led a charmed life till the day her daughter, Charlotte, was born in 1938. At Ellen’s birth, her parents celebrated the long hoped-for arrival of a perfect daughter born ten years after the last of their six sons. Ellen was all any parent could have imagined, dainty, feminine, and delightful. She was all the more welcome, since her mother had despaired of ever having a daughter. Both parents doted on her and were well-able to indulge her since her father was from a long line of bankers.
A high-minded young woman, well-aware of her importance, Ellen studied music and art at a notable Southern Women’s College, though she’d never need to earn her own way. No one was surprised when she accepted the proposal of a wealthy plantation owner’s son. It was the wedding of the decade. The father of the bride built the young couple a Victorian mansion in the finest part of town and Ellen’s husband, a doctor, spent his time between his practice and his father’s plantation. His practice grew so quickly, he had to hire a farm manager when he inherited upon his father’s death. Ellen, like her mother before her, gave birth to boys, though she yearned for a daughter to follow her in society.
At thirty-nine, Ellen feared she was entering menopause, when to her great joy, she realized she was pregnant. Surely, she’d have a daughter this time. Her husband attended the home birth, of course. Ellen was relieved to hear a healthy squall at delivery, but Charles didn’t meet her eyes as he handed the swaddled infant to Cora, the maid. “It looks like a healthy girl.” In minutes, Cora diapered and swaddled the babe and passed her to Ellen to nurse.
Ellen counted all the little fingers and toes as she admired her little one. “I do believe this is the prettiest one yet.”
Charles answered, “You always say that,” then whisked the infant away immediately instead of leaving her with her mother, as he had at all the other births. “Get some rest.”
Ellen was glad to rest, but was a little concerned that Charles had taken the baby.
“Cora, was everything alright with the baby?” she quizzed Cora.
“That baby looked plenty healthy to me,” Cora turned her back as she tidied things up. “Shore had a fine set of lungs on her. You ain’t as young as you was. Git you some rest while you can.”
Miffed at the reference to her age, Ellen snapped at Cora. “I am plenty young enough to tend my baby, thank you. I have the finest skin of any of my friends.”
“Yes’m,” Cora answered.

To be continhttps://youtu.be/8h6fFPsFZpI?si=onKJ1qbGqzs2PXgaued.

Our Awful Friends Part 5

The fallout from the birthday party continued when Mr. Awful got home and heard the sad saga of the missing birthday shoe.  Loss of a shoe was a weighty matter in that time.  Many families usually got shoes in the fall and perhaps a pair of sandals or tennis shoes in the summer to get kids through till serious shoe season in the fall.  I suspect this may have been true at the Awful’s as well, since he bellowed at the kids and put them to searching for the lost birthday shoe.

Naturally, they returned to the last place the shoe was seen, the pigpen adjoining our property. They truly searched for a few minutes, this time not harassing the pig family.  Before long, their inherent high spirits overcame them and they began sliding in the black mud and manure mixture created by the pigs.  They were so joyous in their search, we watched enviously, begging Mother to let us join in the fun.  Unreasonably, she refused, though she did join us in watching their fun.  They cavorted in the ever-increasing slime till the entire pig pen became one enormous excremental slide, spread universally over the entire lot, erasing all the hills and valleys the pigs had carefully constructed for their wallows.  From a running start, the kids could skid from one end to the other, spraying slop high on either side as they flew by us.  The squealing pigs fled from one end to the other as the slimy kids approached them.

I have never been more jealous.  Eventually, it occurred to Mr. Awful no one had returned with the missing shoe.  He was reunited with his filth-encrusted children and shrieked his disappointment to High Heaven.  “You kids better find that shoe or I’m gonna tear you up!”  To demonstrate his intent, he picked a wispy weed and smacked his own leg, demonstrating the beating they could expect.  I suspect those poor kids had never heard such a threat, since they set up a wail and started diving into the slop in earnest, eventually uncovering the filthy lost shoe near the feed troughs.  I couldn’t tell a lot of difference in the search and what they’d been doing before, except that they squalled all during the real search, as Mr. Awful periodically shouted threats and swatted his leg with the switch to terrify them back into action.  Altogether, it was a wonderful show.

 

 

 

Our Awful Friends Part 4

The barnyard turned out to be just a bedraggled fence enclosing a chicken house with a row of nesting boxes.  The chicken house had seen better days and leaned crazily to the left.  Someone had thoughtfully propped it up enough so the eggs didn’t roll out of the boxes.  Jamey picked up a pencil-marked egg and slung it against the barn.  It exploded with a nauseating sulfurous smell and resounding pop, whereupon Jamey explained it had been left for the hen to “set on” and had rotted.  I was familiar with the concept of “setting hens” and knew not to touch precious eggs.  Mother had made it clear eggs were precious, not playthings.  Nonetheless, Jamey took an egg from another nest and hurled it.  It also exploded and turned the air to sulphur to the delight of the party-goers.  Kids started flinging eggs madly.  Knowing they were older and wiser, I joined in.  Before long we’d exhausted the supply and moved across the road to the pig pen.

My parents had frequently complained about the malodorous pig pen, but in a rural community, only consideration governs location of noxious livestock.   Conveniently for the Awfuls, a vacant house with an enclosed back lot stood between our place and theirs.  They had wisely appropriated the back lot for their pig pen.  It was much closer to our house than theirs, a wise decision on their part.  The small pen was home to a couple of sows, their extended families, and millions of flies. Due to their wise location of the pig lot, we undoubtedly got a lot more effect than they did.  My mother, in particular, was offended. Jamey, our fearless leader climbed on the rails.  The smaller of the sows and her babies fled, squealing.  The larger sow the size of a sofa, didn’t seem too disturbed from where she lounged in a muddy wallow across the pen.  The baby pigs were so appealing, we decided to catch one and pet it.  Jamey was a wonderful host.  He dropped into the pen in pursuit of a little pig, followed by me and a couple more kids.  My immediate attention was captured by the ripping of my dress where it caught on a fencepost, hanging me up from the top rail.  Sofa-pig didn’t take all this well.  She lunged at the kids with a guttural growl, running them back over the fence.  Fortunately, I was suspended above the action and climbed to safety, though my fancy dress was done for.  I wasn’t the only one who suffered damage to my wardrobe.  As Jamey sailed over the fence, the mama pig got one of his new birthday tennis shoes.  Mrs. Awful was not happy about that.

When we got back to the house and Mrs. Awful finished cursing about the lost birthday shoe, it was time to open the presents.  As I said, this was my first birthday party.  I was proud of the flashlight Mother had wrapped for me to bring to the party and couldn’t wait to get it back.  Mother showed up for coffee just as I learned I was expected to leave it for Jamey.  I wasn’t falling for that one.  I was wrestling with Jamey for possession of the flashlight just as she walked in the gate.  My behavior, coupled with the destroyed dress, put an end to the coffee-klatch.  Mother dragged me home bawling without the flashlight, my tattered dress tail dragging in the dirt, my first big social fail.

 

 

Our Awful Friends Part 2

I had only been out of the bathtub about 10 minutes when this picture was made.  After that birthday party, this dress was never the same.  I never saw that little purse again.I first became aware of the Awfuls on the occasion of Jamey Awful’s fifth birthday.  I was probably about four and totally ignorant of what birthday parties entailed.  I only knew that Mother ruined a perfectly good day by calling me away from my sand pile to take a bath in the middle of the day, an unheard of event.  I was disturbed especially since she insisted on washing the sand out of my hair.  I’d just spent a good portion of the morning pouring sand on the top of my head, enjoying its powdery coolness showering down on my shoulders and the back of my sundress and saw no reason for her outraged reaction.  “I told you not to get dirty.  We have to go somewhere today.”

As far as I was concerned, sand was clean.  Mud was dirty.  Axle grease was dirty.  Chicken poop was dirty.  Sand was white and dusted right off.  It was not dirty.  At any rate, Mother filled the tub with water and sprinkled in a tub with Tide Powder and plunged me in.  That was what passed for bubble bath at our house.  I would have been content to spend the afternoon there, but she washed my hair and hurried me out, ruining another good time.  Then she brushed my stick straight hair and stuffed me in a fluffy petticoat, a white fluffy dress with red and blue polka-dots, white socks, and sandals.  Worse yet, I had to submit to a photo session.  Mother was a novice with a camera making me pose forever, staring into the sun.  She’d gone to a great deal of fuss making matching dresses for me and Phyllis for Easter and was extremely proud of the effect.  Too bad the confection was wasted on me.  When she’d said Easter outfit, I’d envisioned a cowboy getup.

Then she walked us over to the Awful’s house.  I doubt Mother knew Mrs. Awful, since we’d never been to her house for coffee, even though they only lived a couple of houses over.  I guess the poor woman was scraping the bottom of the barrel to find enough kids for a party, since I was a year younger and Phyllis was a couple of years older and neither had ever laid eyes on Jamey. 

Mrs. Awful met us at the back gate.  There were a dozen or so kids running round in the yard, so once Mother made Mrs. Awful’s acquaintance, she headed home, promising to be back for us in a couple of hours.  Mrs. Awful ushered us in the back gate and the fun began.  I was in Heaven!

Our Awful Friends

Freedom at the Awful’s  Illustration by Kathleen Holdaway Swain

Mother was a cruel beast of a woman who rarely allowed us out of our own yard.  I felt so deprived when free-range children passed our house in pursuit of adventure.  Sometimes we were able to tempt them in with our tire swing, zip line, or huge barn, but invariably greener pastures called and we were left morosely watching them amble off to Donnie’s or Joey’s house.  Sadly, we’d pine as the motley crew and their retinue of dogs disappeared down the dusty road.  It wasn’t that we didn’t have wondrous opportunities on our own place;t we just hated being left behind.

Once we accepted our sad abandonment, we didn’t waste time whining to Mother that “We don’t have anything to do.”  I only made that mistake once and Mother set me to hanging out diapers, dusting, and washing woodwork.  In fact, she was mean enough to assign jobs to break up fights.  It’s terrible growing up with a mother who turns human nature against innocent children.

At any rate, a family neighboring us raised their fortunate children with a complete lack of supervision.  Those kids roamed long after dark, before daylight, dropped in for meals all over the neighborhood, drank out of from the neighbor’s faucets, rode the neighbor’s cows, and generally led a charmed life.  Though their name was Offut, I misunderstood it as Awful.  In her frequent dealings with these children Mother reached the conclusion Awful was an excellent name.  She was particularly offended when we came home from town and found them in the house making Kool-aid.  The Awful’s had little understanding of private property and had often had Kool-aid with us, so of course they felt free to help themselves, even if Mother had been careless enough not to leave it in the refrigerator.  Her attitude baffled our uninvited guests.  I think the syrupy floor and Jerry’s standing on the counter helping himself to a pack of Daddy’s cigarettes off the top shelf also ruffled her feathers, but she was the crabby type, after all.  The loss of cigarettes were of particular concern.  A carton cost two dollars and eighty cents, a significant portion of her fifteen dollar grocery budget.  At any rate, she took an unreasonable stance and forbade them to enter the house again when we were gone.  I don’t think they found it particularly disturbing since a couple more packs of cigarettes went missing before Daddy found a better hiding place for his stash.  

Just Folks Getting By Finale

 

Ben brought Uncle Amos home to supper that night, just like he always did on Thursdays.  Lucille did herself proud with fried chicken.  Jenny made mashed potatoes, English Pea Salad, and sliced fresh garden tomatoes.

“Ladies, I haven’t had a meal this good since I don’t know when.  Lucille, I been thinking about asking you to marry me, and your fried chicken just made up my mind.”  He said.

“Well, I hope it don’t break yore heart, but I already been married plenty.  I like to do things my way.  I don’t want to have to take care of nobody no more.  I don’t mind cooking you up some fried chicken once in a while, though.”  She laughed. 

“Well, that’s a relief.  I really ain’t partial to gittin’ married again either, but I sure admire your fried chicken.”  Everybody got a laugh out of that.

Jenny brought out coffee and pie, then told Ben.  “Mama and I want to talk to you about something.  Mama wants to buy Miss Dolly’s shop.  Miss Dolly needs three thousand dollars.  Mama has fifteen hundred.  I am thinking I’d like to go in with her.  You know I’ve got a little saved from before we got married.  Lucy could go to work with me.  There’s a little bed/sitting room opening right onto the shop where she could nap and play.  That way, I could work and not have to leave her.  What do you think?”

Lucille spoke before Ben had time to respond.  “Now before you worry over this too much, Ben, I want you to know.  I ain’t expecting to live with you.  I can move into the back of the shop. I want my own place.  I don’t want to be dependin’ on nobody for a place to live.  It was good of Shirley and Martin to let me fix up their garage apartment, but I don’t want to feel like I am in their way.  I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Martin’s mama didn’t want to move in there.  The house was hers to start with.  I sure don’t want to cause no family trouble.  I don’t mean for Jenny to go in with me if you’d rather not. Dolly has already suggested I could pay it out by the month if I haf’ to.  She ain’t had no other offers.”

“Let’s just do the figures and see how it works out.  Jenny has her own money to use as she pleases. You know I’m not the kind of fellow to take from my wife. I like the idea of her having Lucy with her.  Jerry wants more hours, anyway.  Uncle Amos is there in the mornings.  All that kind of fits in with something I was thinking about, anyway.  Jenny’s idea of coffee and treats has really caught on.  You know the hardware store and Dolly’s Shop have an adjoining wall.  How would you feel about opening up between and I could give my customers a coupon and they could come over there for a free coffee?  They could buy their own snack.  That would help us both.”  Ben looked thoughtful.  “It might just work.  What do you think, Uncle Amos?  You are a good businessman.  Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It sure sounds good to me.  I believe folks would always go for free coffee.  I expect they’d turn a good profit.  I believe me and you could open up the space between the two stores and not have to hire nobody to do that work.  I did all the work around my store.  I never wanted to pay for no work I could do myself.”  Amos looked enthusiastic at the thought of getting his hands dirty.

“I can’t see any reason not to do this.  I believe we’d all come out well.”  Ben admitted. “Let’s get cracking.”

“If you don’t mind me makin’ a long distance call, I guess I’d better call Shirley an’ let her know she’s gonna need a baby sitter.  I have an idea it will be a relief to her,” Lucille said.  “I’ll get the operator to call back and let me know what the charge is so I can pay you back.  I don’t usually call long distance, but I want to talk to Dolly before somebody else gits the place.”

“You go right ahead, but you are not paying us back for that call.” Ben told her.

Lucille was gone about ten minutes.  “Well, Shirley took it real good.  She told me she’s about four months along and she ain’t goin’ back to teachin’ this fall.  She’s really looking forward to finally gittin’ to stay home with a baby.  She had to go back when school started in the fall with the other three.  She did ask if I could come stay a couple of weeks when the baby comes, though.  I told her I figured you could handle things.  Turns out, it’s good I come up with somethin’ else anyway.  Old Lady Benson has been houndin’ Marty about wantin’ my apartment.  She thinks she’s still got a claim to it since they bought the house from her.  He told her I’d done put three thousand dollars in it an’ it wasn’t up to him.  She told him she’d give me four thousand if I’d give it up.  I told Marty to tell her, it’d sure hurt me but I guess I’d do it.  If she wants to keep that new stove, icebox, and curtains I put in I told him she could have them for two hundred fifty dollars more.  Sounds like a pretty good deal to git them out of a hard spot.  I don’t envy Shirley none, havin’ that old lady in her back yard, but she says she can handle it.

Six months later:

Lucille walked in Jenny’s Sweet Shop and surprised Jenny at the register.  “Mama, why in the world didn’t you tell us you were coming on the bus today?  Seems like you were gone a year instead of just three weeks.  Uncle Amos was planning to drive over and pick you Sunday!  I can’t fuss, though.  I am so glad to see you. I’d dance a jig if I could, but Lucy and this big old baby under my apron are ‘bout to wear me out. I can’t believe I’ve still got five months to go! Uncle Amos has been having to help me half a day every day.  Come on in and I’ll get us a cup of coffee.  Lucy, come see!  Grandma’s back.  Tell me all about that new baby.”

“Oh, she’s a pretty little red-headed blue-eyed thing with the curliest eyelashes you ever saw, just like you and Jimmy!  I got some real cute pictures of all the kids.  Old Lady Benson was claiming credit for them eyelashes the whole time.  You know, I always talked about the eyelashes on my babies.  Whooee!  I’m glad I don’t have to put up with that woman no more!  She tried to talk me down to a hundred and fifty dollars for that new stove and icebox I put in.  I held out for two-hundred fifty and she gave up and paid it, once she found out I had another seller lined up.  Lord, that woman is hard to please.

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2017/02/12/just-folks-getting-by-part-1/

Link to first post in this serial

Just Folks Getting By part 19

img_2023Jenny got a letter from Shirley.

Dear Jenny,

Please don’t tell Mama I wrote you first.  Things are so stirred up here I need to think things out.  First off, I knew I was pregnant before Mama left, but didn’t want to worry her.  Having five babies in eight years is hard.  I won’t be teaching this fall.  I am going to stay home with the kids like I should have last time. I can’t ask Mama to keep three kids while I work.  They just about run me ragged and I’m a lot younger than she is.  Now that I have made up my mind to quit teaching, I look forward to this baby.  I never have gotten to stay home long.  My babies were all were born in summer and I had to go right back to teaching in the fall.  I always felt cheated about that.

This is what’s really worrying me.  You know Martin’s brother Perry is  getting married.  They were going to wait till Christmas, but Judy’s daddy died and left them a really nice house.  It’s two stories with five bedrooms, much nicer than Perry’s house. Judy’s mother still liv s there and doesn’t want to live alone, so they are going to move the wedding up to August 1 and move in with her.  They’ve asked mother Benson to go, but she wants no part of it.  She’s always been real snide Judy’s mother, anyway.  She approached us about moving back in with us.  We only have three bedrooms.  If she moves in the house, we’ll have to pack all four of the kids in one room.  That’s not right!  With me quitting my job, we can’t afford to add on. She wanted the apartment back, but Martin told her Mama had spent three-thousand dollars to fix it up.  Mama Benson said she’d give Mama four thousand if she’d let her have it.  I don’t have the heart to say anything to Mama, but I’m just worried sick.  Do you think you and Ben could ask her to move in with you? She never caused us any problems or butted into our business.  Can you talk to Ben and call me in a few days? I am sorry  to burden you with all this worry.  I’ve cried about this till I just can’t cry any more.  I never thought I’d be in this position.  I don’t know why Mama Benson can’t just get an apartment.  Please don’t  say anything to Mama till we talk.  Marty says we will figure something out.

Love,

Shirley

“Why that old bat!  What does Mrs. Benson think Mama ought to do, just live in the street?”  Jenny got on the phone to Ben.  “Ben, I need to talk to you about something real mportant..  Do you have time now?”

“Is something wrong?  Do I need to come home?” Asked Ben.

“No, I’ll come down there if you have time.  I have to pick Mama up anyway.”

In a few minutes, Ben was reading Shirley’s letter.  “That’s cold-hearted of Mrs. Benson.  I’m surprised she offered Miss Lucille her money back.  We have plenty of room.  If you want, we can close in half the back porch for a bedroom and bathroom. I’ve been thinking about closing it in for a sunroom, anyway.  She can have a door opening out of her room onto the porch.  We’ll talk to her tonight.  Go ahead and tell Shirley it won’t be a problem.  She doesn’t need to be worrying.  By the way, that was a great idea about the brownies and coffee.  They didn’t last twenty minutes.  Bert Masters came in again this morning and wanted to know if I had more.  I made a pot and hurried over and bought a piece of your Mama’s pie and some muffins.  He ate every crumb of the pie and said he was going next door to see if there was any left.  She’s pretty good with a pie.”

“I think I’ll call Shirley from your office, if it’s okay.  I don’t want Mama to overhear.  Don’t let her slip up on me.”  She ducked in his office for about ten minutes.  “Thanks, Ben, I’d better check on Mama.  She may have been trying to call me.  See you tonight.”  With that, she hurried next door.

The little shop bell dinged as she entered and Dolly hurried out from the kitchen.  “Good morning, Jenny.  I hope you didn’t come to haul my help off.  I just convinced Miis Lucy to work till noon.  She’s putting a batch of of cookies in now.  Come on back to the kitchen.”

“Mama, now I see why you didn’t call.  You are elbow deep in flour.  What’s going on?”

Lucille slid four pans of cookies in the oven.  “We’ve got twelve minutes till these have to come out.  Come on Dolly, let’s all take time for a cup of coffee and talk.”  With that, she sat.  “Jenny, I told Dolly I’d help her every morning while I’m here.  Dolly needs to sell this shop.  We went over her books.  She runs it from seven till one and turns a real good profit.  I want to buy it. Do you think you’d want to partner with me?  There’s a cute little bed/sitting room in back I could move into.  You could bring the baby to work with you.  I think I could raise fifteen hundred dollars, but Dolly has to have three thousand.  What do you think? ”

“I think it sounds like a real good idea.  I know you could make a go of it.  I have a little nest egg of my own.  I think I’d like to be in business with you.  Let’s talk to Ben tonight.”  Jenny felt a load lift from her shoulders.

 

 

 

Just Folks Getting By Part 18

cook-bookJenny walked in the kitchen to find biscuits in the oven and two pies cooling on the counter. “My goodness, Mama.  Didn’t you go to bed last night?  How did you get this all done so early?

“My eyelids flew up like window shades about four o’clock and I was wide-awake.  I knowed there was no use just a’layin’ there, so I got up an’ started bakin’.  I hope I didn’t bother you none.  I kind’a got me an idear.  I’m a’gonna take one of these pies down to Dolly at the bake shop.  It might be she’d want to sell my pies if you could spare me a couple of hours of the mornin’.  Would you mind runnin’ me down there?”  Lucille asked. “I wouldn’t mind makin’ a couple of dollars long as I’m a’gonna be here awhile.”

“I’d be glad to, but you better not let Ben know what you’re up to.  He might not want you cookin’ around on him.”  Jenny laughed. 

“Who’s cooking around on me?” Ben demanded as he walked in.  “Are those biscuits I smell?  Can you wrap me up a couple to take with me?”

“Why sure.” Lucille replied.  I’ll have bacon in just a minute if you’ll wait.” 

“I guess it won’t hurt to be a minute late.  Uncle Amos is always way early.  He can handle anything that rolls in early.  There’s usually a couple of folks waiting at seven-thirty, but after that it’s usually quiet till about nine.  Could you wrap up a couple for Uncle Amos, too.  I know he’d like ‘em.”

“Mama, why don’t you catch a ride with Ben?  You can call when you are ready and I’ll pick you up.  That will give me time to dress and bathe the baby.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get my stuff together while you finish that bacon.” Said Ben.  “Jenny doesn’t need to keep you all to herself. You are leaving one of those pies here, aren’t you?”

“They are chocolate peanut butter.  I guess I could do that.  Jenny, could you wrap these bacon biscuits and put this pie in that carrier while I get my purse and put on a clean apron.”  Lucille washed her hands and hurried out.

Jenny looked at Ben.  “I think Mama’s up to something, don’t you?”

“Kind of looks like it, but it can’t be too bad if it includes pie.” He mused.

milk-add

 

 

 

John’s Favorite Chocolate Pie with Optional Peanut Butter

1 cup white sugar

6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

3 tablespoons cornstarch

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 cups milk (I used canned evaporated milk for all my cooking)

4 egg yolks, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 (9 inch) pie crust, baked

4 egg whites

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

8 tablespoons white sugar

½ cup peanut butter (optional)

Directions

Mix together sugar, cocoa, corn starch and salt in a medium saucepan. Gradually mix in milk. Cook and stir over medium high heat until thickened and bubbly. Blend in peanut butter if desired.  Reduce heat to medium low; cook and stir 2 minutes more. Remove pan from heat. Slowly stir about one cup of the hot filling into the egg yolks, stirring constantly; mix back into the custard. Return saucepan to heat, and bring to a gentle boil. Cook and stir for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat, and stir in vanilla. Pour hot filling into crust.

In a clean bowl, beat egg whites with cream of tartar until soft peaks form. (If yellow gets into whites they won’t whip) Gradually beat in sugar, and continue to beat until stiff and glossy. Spread evenly over hot filling, sealing meringue to crust.

Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 12 to 15 minutes, or until golden.

Just Folks Getting By Part 17

“Mama, I know you are making  a peanut butter pie for the American Legion Auction, but Ben’s Uncle Amos, just called and wanted to know if I could bring two pies!  I’ve  never baked a pie in my life!  You’ve got to help me!  Do you have a really easy, really good pie you can help me with?”  Jenny looked panicked.  “Do you still remember how to make that caramel pie you used to make?  That was my favorite.  Was it real hard?”

“Sure, I must’a made a thousand of those.  It’s real easy, just takes a while.  Do you have any Eagle Brand milk?”  Asked Lucille.  “Do you want it with pastry crust or graham crackers?”

“Graham cracker is best, but we have to go to the grocery store anyway.  What do I need for the pies?”  Jenny took out her pencil and pad.

“Let me think,” said Lucille. “You’re gonna four cans of Eagle Brand milk and a quart of whipping cream.  For the crust, you need graham crackers, butter, and sugar.”

“That’s all? Jenny was shocked.

“Oh yeah.  It’s a real simple pie.  All you do is boil the Eagle Brand Milk in the can for three hours and pour it in the crust, chill till it’s set, then top with whipped cream.

“Okay.  Do you want to ride down to the A & P with me?  We can stop by on the way and have lunch with Ben and let you see the what he’s done at hardware store.  You haven’t been down there since he did all that work down there, have you?”

“No, but are you sure you don’t want me to stay here and keep the baby?

“No, we could be a while and Lucy will need to nurse.  Besides, Ben wants you to see the store.

“Well, all right.  Let me change my dress and put on a good apron.”  When Lucille got back, she smelled of Cashmere Bouquet Dusting Powder in her crisp floral print dress with an immaculate lace-edged white apron.  Her white hair was freshly combed and held back on either side by tortoise shell combs.  The seams of her stockings were straight.  She also changed into her perfectly shined lace up black oxfords with the two-inch heels.  She held her enormous black purse on her arm.

“Mama, you look so pretty.  I always loved seeing your in your Sunday apron.”

“I just don’t feel right without my apron.  I know not too many women wear them all the time any more, but I take such comfort in my apron.  The pockets are so handy, you never get caught without a hanky.  I guess I’m ready if you are.  Do you want me to carry the baby?

“Oh no.  You don’t have to wag her around.  She’s getting so heavy.  Besides, you look so pretty I want to show you off.”

“Land’s sakes, Jenny.  Ain’t nobody said I was purty in years.”

“Well, you are, Mama.  I’ve always thought you are beautiful.  Let’s go.”

Lucille admired the neat buildings as Jenny circled the  courthouse square.  “This is such a purty town.  Oh my!  I didn’t recognize y’all’s hardware right off.  This is so nice!  Y’all must really be doin’ good.  I am so proud.”

Ben was waiting to show them around.  “Jerry, can you take care of things?  I want to show Miss Lucille what we’ve done down here.”  Ben proudly took the baby from Jenny.”

“Come here pretty girl.  We need to show Grandma what we’ve been up to.”  With that, Ben launched into a guided tour of the remodeled store.  His pride was obvious as he showed her around.  Near the back, he approached an older gentleman.  “Uncle Amos, I want you to meet Miss Lucille, Jenny’s mother.”

Lucille found herself face to face with Amos Jones, Russell’s old friend who’d given her a dollar and a ride to the bus station so many years ago.  He recognized her as well.  “Lucille, I have wondered about you so many times.  It looks like you are doing fine.”

 

Caramel Pie Recipe

Remove the label from two Cans of Eagle Brand Milk

Put in large pot, cover with water and keep at low boil for 3 hours.  May have to add water.  I always set timer for 1 hour so I remember to check.  After 3 hours, remove from water and allow to cool 10 minutes before opening.  If you wait longer, caramel will cool and be difficult to pour.  Use caution when you open.  Can will ooze and spill over as you open.  Pour into 10 inch Graham Cracker Crust.  Allow to set 2-3 hours and top with whipped cream.

Caution:  This recipe is neither non-fat nor low calorie.  Best to make when you have company.  You don’t want this sitting around to tempt you.