Jennie Sue glanced over at Rick. She’d loved going with him the week before and had looked forward to Saturday all week, but Cricket could take money and make change while sitting. It had helped her to go to the bookstore, but not nearly as many people came in after that first day, and it would give her an outing.
“I think that would be a great idea,” Jennie Sue agreed. “I’ve been procrastinating about going to see Mama, and it will be a good day to do that.”
“Rick?” Cricket looked past Jennie Sue at her brother.
“Don’t see why not, if you keep your foot iced and propped up,” he answered. “Right now I’m going out to the melon field and get what we need to take to the market. Be back by the time supper is ready.”
He’d barely cleared the door when Cricket blurted out, “Everyone thinks you are some kind of angel with a halo and wings, but I know better, Jennie Sue Baker. You’ve got to have an angle in all this.”
“All what? And why would I have an angle in anything at all? I’m not that kind of person.”
“Bein’ nice to Lettie and Nadine when they’re your mama’s enemies. Bein’ nice to me and Rick when we aren’t anywhere near your league. People are talkin’ even worse than when you came home and word got out that Percy left you. They’ve got bets goin’.”
“Bets on what? That I’m stayin’ or goin’? And what are you betting, Cricket?”
“That you’re using the whole bunch of us to make your daddy give you a job in his oil company. Charlotte is mortified, and she’ll do anything to get things right in her fancy world again. So when she comes home, she’ll fall all over herself to let you have your way about a job, and you’ll never speak to any of us again,” Cricket answered. “As for me, I don’t care, because I’m not believin’ one bit of this, but I hate to see Rick hurt. Not to mention Lettie and Nadine.”
“You really think I’m that kind of person?” Jennie Sue set a skillet on the stove and added oil to fry okra. “And why would Rick be hurt? Even if I did go to work, it wouldn’t mean that I wouldn’t remain friends with him or with Lettie and Nadine. And maybe barely friends with you.”
“I thought we were civil friends,” Cricket argued.
Jennie Sue came back with, “You’re the one who just used the term barely friends, not me.”
“Well, it just slipped out. ‘Civil friends’ sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it? But you were one person in high school, and now you are pretending to be another altogether.”
“Maybe I was pretending in high school, trying to fit into the mold that I’d been given from birth. Maybe I didn’t like that world or the one I got when I got married. And maybe I like this world a lot better,” she said as she kept working. “How are Lettie and Nadine betting?”
“They both think you have glitter on your wings, but they’re old,” Cricket said.
“You better not let either of them hear that.” At least her two sweet friends didn’t think she was using them.
“And before you ask,” Cricket went on, “Rick won’t listen to rumors. I don’t know where he stands.”
Jennie Sue sautéed bell peppers and onions in a second skillet to make meatballs for supper. Served over rice and with okra, sliced tomatoes, and cucumbers, it was one of Percy’s favorite meals. The idea of him coming home to their fancy apartment, expecting the table to be set perfectly and his food ready to serve, made her think again of the friends they’d had in New York. Ladies she’d served on fund-raising committees with, those she’d gone shopping with or out to lunch with. They’d all forsaken her when he got into trouble and fled with his new girlfriend. So three friends who believed in her in spite of her past seemed like a pretty big blessing to her that evening.
“You don’t have anything to say?” Cricket asked.
Jennie Sue shook her head. “All the talk in the world won’t change your mind or the minds of people in town, so no, I don’t have anything to say. What would you say if our roles were reversed and you were in my shoes?”
“I’d damn sure say something. What people think of you can have a big bearing on the way your life turns out.”
“Oh, really? People thought I was a privileged person, and look what I’m doin’ for a livin’,” Jennie Sue said. “I’m cleanin’ houses, reorganizing a used-book store, pickin’ vegetables in the evening, and puttin’ up with a barely friend. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m doin’ my own hair and fingernails, and I only have one color of polish.”
Cricket glanced down at her bare feet, and Jennie Sue followed her gaze.
“Your toenails look like crap, but Mama would stroke out if she could see mine. Want me to do them for you after we get done with the harvest tonight?”
Cricket fiddled with her bandage and bit at her lower lip. “Are you crazy? Why would you do that after what I just told you?”
“What you said has nothing to do with your nails, does it?” Jennie Sue asked.
She looked down at her feet. “They are in a mess.”
“Then let’s take care of them. Do you have a file and polish and maybe some decent lotion?”
Cricket pointed toward a closed door. “In a shoe box on the shelf in my closet.”
“Good. Then we’ll make them pretty after I get done with the crops.” She handed Cricket a knife and a small bowl of washed vegetables. “Make yourself useful instead of bitchin’ about everything. You can slice tomatoes and cucumbers while you are sitting there.”
Cricket raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to trust me with a knife?”
“I can run faster than you can,” Jennie Sue said.
If someone had told her ten years ago that Jennie Sue Baker would ever be sitting in her house doing her toenails, Cricket would have asked them what they’d been drinking. But there she was on the floor with a pan of warm water, towels, and a shoe box full of Cricket’s nail supplies.
Jennie Sue handed her the small box. “Pick your color while I get them trimmed and the cuticles in shape. I can also do french nails if you want those.”
“Do I get to pick a color for my toenails when you get hers done?” Rick asked.
Jennie Sue nodded seriously. “Red would be real nice on you.”
Good Lord, were they flirting? Cricket rolled her eyes.
“No, thank you,” Rick said.
“Ah, come on. Be adventurous.” Jennie Sue wrapped Cricket’s bum foot in a hot, wet towel.
“No, thank you. All the other guys in town would be jealous. You’d have a line from one end of Main Street to the other of men wanting their nails done,” Rick told her.
“I’ve still got Sunday afternoons fairly free. I could do nails then.” Jennie Sue grinned.
Yes, they were definitely flirting. Cricket sighed. But she wouldn’t think about that now, not when Jennie Sue was giving her an amazing mani-pedi. This might raise her status to a barely friend for sure.
After a couple of minutes, Jennie Sue removed the towel and dropped it into the hot water, then she started to work on Cricket’s toenails. “Do you like them square or rounded?”
“Round,” Cricket answered.
“Me, too. Never could get used to those square things,” Jennie Sue said.
A memory of Percy telling her that her nails looked like an old lady’s flashed through her mind. She’d come home from the salon, where she’d had them painted a pale pink to go with a dress she planned to wear to a party that evening.
“Modern women wear bright colors and square nails. And good God, Jennifer”—he’d never called her Jennie Sue because that sounded too redneck for him—“whoever did that horrible job left a dab of polish on your big toe. That’s unacceptable.”
She’d learned to do her own nails from then on. Unacceptable in his world was the worst thing in the whole universe.
When she finished with that foot, she stood up. “Now scoot forward while I go get more warm water. The polish should be dry enough so that it won’t smear.”
“Looks like you’ve done this before,” Rick said.
“Lots of times,” she said.
“Why didn’t you have yours done professionally?” Cricket asked.
“I did for a while,” Jennie Sue said. “By doing them myself I didn’t have to smell all those awful chemicals.”
“Amen to that,” Cricket said. “So you definitely aren’t leaving Bloom to go into the nail business.”