CHAPTER 18
Mr. Wilson stopped by the house after church the next day. We sat on the porch, discussing the farm. He wanted to make sure I knew what to do and when. “You want to ride to Pittsboro tomorrow and get yourself a couple of pigs?”
At the auction, I bid on two Berkshires Mr. Wilson recommended, and got them for twelve dollars each. He bought four for himself, and we loaded the baby sows into the pen on the back of his truck. When we got home, I opened the gate to the wire box, grabbed one by the hind legs, and pulled her out. She hollered like I was killing her until she dropped over the fence. I hefted the other one, and they got busy investigating their new home.
Mr. Wilson and me leaned on the gate. “You patch the hog lot so they won’t get out?”
“Took care of it a month ago.” His bossing tone didn’t set well with me. “Hope I’ll be able to drive myself places one of these days soon.”
“I’ll take you to get a license in June.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
* * *
A little after dark, Fancy stepped inside the porch, wearing a brown homemade dress and a man’s hat curled up in the front.
“What ’cha doing?” She poked her head around mine, nudging her chin up and down on my collarbone.
“Figured I’d eat what’s left of this chicken and such. Don’t suppose you could make some biscuits.”
Fancy turned her back and sashayed around the kitchen. “Could if I wanted to.”
I pleaded a little. “Help me out here.”
She put one hand on her hip. “What are you going to do for me?”
I grabbed her waist, picking her up off the floor. “I’m going to beat your butt if you don’t.”
She squealed and pulled at my arms. I let her down and slapped her on the backside. She punched me on the arm. I went for her again. She tripped into the cupboard, and we ended up nose to nose. She quit laughing. Her arms went around my neck; mine went around her back, and our mouths slammed together, tongues searching and bodies pressing. I knew she could feel me against her.
We broke and backed away. “What was that, Junebug?”
“I don’t know.”
Her black eyes rolled up and down. “I reckon it was your jisim talking. I told you it was going to back up. Does your balls hurt?” She looked down at the front of my overalls.
My face turned red. “No, and I’d appreciate it if you quit worrying about them.”
We went at it again. Sweat popped out on my forehead. I pulled my head away. “What do we do now?”
She moved me backward with one finger, grinning. “Don’t know about you, but I’m fixing to make some biscuits.”
After cleaning up the dishes, we went to sit on the living room couch. I didn’t know what to say, so I lay my head back and silently counted pine knots in the wood ceiling. Fancy picked at a loose string on one of the sofa cushions. We sat and listened to the clock tick.
She broke the silence. “Okay, Junebug, what about these feelings we’re having for each other?” Her face was natural except for a bit of faint red lipstick.
It was embarrassing to look her in the eye. “I know it ain’t right, but I can’t seem to help myself around you.”
She pulled my chin up. “We’re both getting old enough to have urges, Junebug. I ain’t against them. I’ve started to develop feelings for you that are more than just friends, like I can’t wait to see you from one time to the next. Do you think the same way about me?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes. So what do we do?”
She sat back against the couch cushion. “We can consider it some more. One of these days, when we’re ready, the Lord will send us the answer.”
I laid my head against the top. “Hope He don’t wait long.”
We kissed some more. “Mrs. Wilson said you were going to show me how to churn butter.”
Fancy pushed the tip of her nose against mine, our eyelashes almost touching. “Bet she didn’t have in mind churning like this.”
I let my hands drift lower on her back. She talked softly into my mouth. “Soon as you’ve saved up enough cream, it won’t take long to make.” Her teeth bit down on my lip. “I’ll come over Monday after school if you want me to teach you.”
“You could stay for supper.”
She whispered in my ear. “What are we having?”
My insides were about to bust. “What you best be doing is getting home, wouldn’t want any bogeymen chasing you.”
“How about you drive me?” Fancy folded her arms around my neck.
“You know I ain’t got a license.”
“Then you need the practice.” We rode, Fancy snuggled against me, my arm around her.
I shut off the lights before reaching the Wilsons’ driveway and stopped. The kissing and moving against each other got intense again. Finally, she pushed open the door. “You think about me tonight, Junebug.” Fancy slammed the truck door and took off running.