Apron Strings Read Online Free

shows.” She stopped folding clothes, shook her head side to side, and smiled like she was remembering something fine.
    “Did you know him? Did he ever come here?” I asked as I plowed through a pile of last summer’s shorts.
    “No, he lived in New York. I ain’t never seen him in person…did see a pitchur of ‘im, though. He died just after yo’ daddy got back from the war, ‘bout a year or so later.”
    “How’d he die?”
    “Was a big fire that killed ‘im. He weren’t no real doctor, I don’t believe; his lab blowed up.”
    I shuddered at such a dramatic demise. “Why wasn’t he a real one? Did he just pretend to be a doctor?”
    “He was one of them PhD doctors, not the kind ya go to when you’s sick—a scientist.”
    “He must have been mad,” I deduced from my Saturday morning television shows.
    “I ‘spect he was. Ya mama tried to git Mista Joe to go to da funeral, but he wouldn’t do it. He never said another word ‘bout his daddy. The two of ‘em had a fallin’ out, and after that, Mista Joe didn’t pay him no mind; even when the man died. Ain’t right if you ask me.”
    I was trying on my Easter bonnet from last year, which was too small. “Whadda they fall out about?” I asked. Then I spied one of Stuart’s bonnets. I took it over to an old mirror leaning up against the wall and placed it on my head. I spun every which way, hoping I looked as beautiful as I remembered Stuart did when she wore it. “Think I can wear this one?”
    “Is too big. I ‘spect Stuart gonna be fighting with ya mama ‘bout wearing it again dis here Easter.”
    “What were you sayin’ about why Daddy fell out with his daddy?”
    “The fallin’ out mighta had somethin’ to do wit’ Mista Joe decidin’ that lawyerin’ wasn’t for him no mo’. I don’ rightly know all of it…I just know he got this big shoppin’ center idea after he come back from the war.” She sighed and heaved open another trunk. “He been working on it for a good while and he asked his daddy for money to help him along with it. I ‘spect the old man said no. Mista Joe came back from that trip fit to be tied.”
    When I asked such questions of my mother, she would snap, “Mind your own business, Sallee!” Often she’d say I was rude or even
impudent
, though she never told me what that meant. Given her tone, I was pretty sure it wasn’t good. With Ethel it was different. She let me push and prod about the past and told me endless stories; which always seemed to leave me with more questions.
    “What exactly is a shopping center, anyway?”
    All I knew about shopping was our twice-yearly drives with my mother to the big Thalhimers and Miller and Rhodes department stores in Richmond. I couldn’t imagine buying anything here in Charlottesville except shoes or groceries.
    “Honey, I wish I knowed, much trouble as it’s caused in dis here family.” She shook her head and bent over to pick up a bundle of clothes. “Pick up that stack an’ let’s get on downstairs. Yo’ mama’ll be back ‘fore long, and I gotta get lunch started.”
    I gathered the stack of clothes and followed her down the steps, “Oh,” I said, “I almost forgot to tell you. There’s broken glass all over the basement floor and a rock, too.”
    “Huh,” Ethel said. When Gordy came into the kitchen for lunch, she put her hands on her hips and asked, “You ain’t been throwin’ rocks at de house, has ya?”
    Gordy looked at her like she’d hit him in the head with one. “I know better than that,” he muttered. He continued to munch on his peanut butter sandwich.
    “Hum, I hope so,” she said.
    One morning shortly after school had let out for the summer, my mother swept into the kitchen. “Ethel!” she called. “Miss Dorothy, Miss Della, and Miss Emily are coming over this afternoon. Make sure the children are presentable. It’s just a small tea. A few sandwiches and some of those marmalade tarts will be all we need.” She checked