A FAVOR FOR JANE LOUISE
Jane Louise traipsed up the trail the next morning, calling my name.
I hurried onto the porch to hush her, lest she wake Daddy, who had plenty to sleep off.
“I got a favor to ask of you, Adabel.”
“A favor?”
She nodded. “Mr. Putney’s nephew come in with the empty coal cars this morning. His name is Chester, and he’s handsome as a tree of ripe apples.”
“What about Corky Danfield?”
“What about him?”
“I thought you was sweet on Corky is what.”
“Corky’s good enough as boys go, his daddy being a mine boss and all. But Chester’s uncle owns the mine. And Chester’s not bad to look at neither. A girl could do worse.”
My mouth couldn’t find words. I cocked my head and give Jane Louise a look that told her jist what I thunk.
She shot me a squinty-eyed stare. “Don’t you judge me, Adabel Cutler. You know your own sister snuggles up to Lud Webster for free groceries.”
I thunk about last week’s white bread and yesterday’s dented can of peaches, and shook my head. I plumb didn’t understand how either Raynelle or Jane Louise could pretend to like a boy if they really didn’t. I know I couldn’t.
“Will you come with me to Mr. Putney’s office?” Jane Louise asked. “I jist got to meet up with Chester face-to-face afore some other girl catches his eye.”
“Why in tarnation would we go to Mr. Putney’s office? You goin’ sashay in there and say, ‘Hey, Mr. Putney, sir, we’d like to meet up with your nephew if’n ya don’t mind’? He’ll think we’re crazy. Jist like I think you are.”
“He’ll think we got good manners. Mama got holt of some early apples and baked a brown Betty to fetch over as a welcome-to-Smoke-Ridge gift.”
“Where’d your mama git apples? And why’s she letting ya give food away to a stranger? A stranger whose uncle’s got more money than all the rest of Smoke Ridge put together?”
“She knows them are the kind of folks we need to be nicest to. Them’re the ones worth having as friends.”
I blew out my breath. “Why ya need me to go?”
“It’ll look more natural-like if there’s two of us. Like we’s an official committee or such.”
“A committee of two?”
“Please, Adabel. Ya’s my best friend, ain’t ya?”
Us Cutlers didn’t have many friends. Most folks tried to keep their young’uns clear of us. I couldn’t afford to rile the only girl in Smoke Ridge who didn’t mind being seen with me.
“Wait till I finish my chores,” I told her. “I’ll meet ya in a’ hour.”
I scrubbed the floor, thankful for once the house was small. I swept the porches, front and back, thinking how Jane Louise wanted friends who had money. I didn’t have enough pennies to count to one. Why was she friends with me?