Apron Strings Read Online Free Page B

being covered up. She is very sensitive about it. Apparently nothing can be done, and it is only going to get worse, poor dear.”
    “A pig?” I said. “Miz Mason?”
    “What? Sallee, hush! I can’t even think.” Gravel crunched under the tires as we pulled up by the tennis courts. “Stuart,” she said, “You’re coming home with Kathy.” Stuart leaped from the car. “If my guests are still there when you get home I would appreciate it if you would come in and speak to them,” my mother called as Stuart’s back disappeared behind the fence. “Good luck, make me proud and don’t forget your manners!”
    Ethel had laid out my pink and white party dress on my bed. It had a stiff crinoline that made it stick out. After she buttoned me up, she started pulling my hair back into a ponytail. “Chile, wouldcha hol’ still?” She squeezed my head in both her hands like she was testing a melon, then gave it a yank to make me face straight forward.
    “Owww, don’t pull so hard. It hurts.”
    “Stop jumpin’ round.”
    “I can’t help it. This dress itches, right here.” I pointed to my waist. She pulled the skirt up to inspect the waistband.
    “Ain’t nothin’ but yo’ petticoat and I ain’t got time to fix it now. The way you dancin’ and wigglin’, you ain’t gonna be in it that long, no way.” Ethel knew as well as I did that my squirming would be a sure invitation for dismissal from the party.
    After she was finished with my hair, she sent me into the parlor. I flopped on the sofa with Gordy while my mother greeted her guests in the front hall. Gordy had already stuffed two of Ethel’s famous marmalade tarts in his mouth.
    “You better not eat all those,” I warned as I rubbed my back against the sofa cushions.
    “Why don’t you save your scratching ‘til the party starts?” he asked while spitting crumbs from his mouth. “Then we can get out quick and take a look at Mr. Dabney’s slingshot. I don’t think he’s home.”
    “What’s he doing with a slingshot?”
    Gordy screwed up his face and shrugged. “That’s what I’d like to know,” he said. “I saw it on his porch the other day. It’s a really neat one, fits over your wrist to hold…”
    My mother thought her children talking with each other when she entertained was impolite and strictly forbidden. Miss James’s entrance into the room ended our conversation. Gordy sprang from his seat. “Why hello, Miz James,” he said. “It’s so nice to see you again.” He extended his hand taking the lady’s and shaking it like a pro. “How have you been?”
    Tall and wiry for his age, Gordy sounded like a fifty-year-old man who’d been entertaining ladies all his life, though he was barely two years older than me. I envied him his ability to do so easily just what he was told. Unlike me, he almost never argued with anything my mothertold him to do. At just one of these afternoon parties, Gordy would garner more approving smiles from our mother than I would in a whole month.
    Even little Helen, expertly guided from one old lady to another older one by my mother, was more successful than me. She smiled just so while delicately holding on to her carrot stick. She had just the right amount of shyness. “Darling,” tripped off every set of crimson lips in the room.
    “She is
precious
, Ginny. You must be so proud,” Miss James gushed in her raspy cigarette voice. She patted Helen’s head with a gnarled, ring-decked hand, her cigarette ash poised overtop my sister’s curls while she balanced her sherry, napkin, and tart in the other. When she smiled, the skin on her cheeks stretched and the skin around her mouth dissolved into a series of cracks and lines. Her perfume crawled into the back of my throat so I could almost taste it, thick and sweet—and I was clear across the room. Her blue hair was just visible under a little black hat shaped like a mushroom with netting sticking up all around. Small diamond shapes festooned the