In the late afternoon Cornelia came in from the commissary and found her in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist over the nightgown, cooking supper. Cornelia always came home a bit early to cook while Otis stayed at the commissary finishing up. She stood in the doorway, arms filled with a sack of flour, sugar, and beans for the pantry.
Surprised, she said, “My, oh my. Look at this. You ain’t supposed to be doing such, you ain’t well enough!”
Rae Lynn carried a platter full of fried cured ham over to the table and set it down. She wiped off her forehead and stood by the set table with her hands on her hips.
She said, “I’m feeling fine.”
Cornelia said, “I declare. You done fried ham, made rice and red-eye gravy, and field peas. Look at them biscuits, high and fluffy as a cloud. This sure looks mighty fine.”
Rae Lynn said, “I was about to go stir-crazy laying around. It feels good to cook again. I used to . . .”
She stopped and put a hand to her mouth. All of a sudden she felt the heavy sadness come over her again as she remembered her and Warren’s suppers together. She’d not allowed herself the luxury of those memories. Cornelia watched Rae Lynn, a question on her face.
She said, “Used to . . . what?”
Rae Lynn swallowed hard. “Cook.”
Cornelia’s focus on her sharpened. “You all right? You look upset. Maybe you done too much.”
“It’s . . . I was just thinking about how much I liked to cook for someone other than myself.”
“Well, I can see you’re a mighty fine one too.”
“Cornelia?”
Cornelia had gone over to the table with the food, looking as pleased as could be. “Um-hmm?”
“Where’s my clothes? I’d feel so much better if I could get dressed.”
Cornelia said, “I’d have got you something if I’d known you was going to be getting around so soon. I had to burn them things a yours. I couldn’t get the, you know, your monthly had come on. I couldn’t get the stain out. It got on the backside of the shirt too. I’m real sorry.”
“Do y’all have anything over to the commissary that might fit?”
Without a word Cornelia went to the back of the house, and out to the line, and right to the dress she’d sewn herself. She took it down. It was like she’d read Rae Lynn’s earlier thoughts.
“You can have it. You paid for it anyway.”
Rae Lynn held both hands up. “No! I can’t take this.”
Cornelia was busy holding it against Rae Lynn’s shoulders and talking to herself. “It might need a bit of a tuck here and there. You’re a mite smaller’n me.”
“Cornelia, did you happen to check the pockets of my overalls before you burned them?”
Cornelia was still busy checking on the fit and stopped at how strained Rae Lynn’s voice sounded.
“I didn’t. Why?”
Rae Lynn’s head dropped. There went the last of her paper money.
She said, “It’s nothing. I thought I might have left something in them, but I remember now, it’s probably back over to number forty-four. I reckon I got to figure out what I’m doing, go and see Peewee. I can’t be staying in the single men’s quarters, not now.”
Cornelia said, “Shoot, you can’t leave! I been thinking. You can help here, like you done today. I’d be awfully grateful for it. Least until you know what you might want to do.”
Had it only been Cornelia, she wouldn’t think twice, but what about Otis, and how he treated Cornelia. Could she ignore him, how he was? It would certainly solve her immediate problem. Cornelia looked disappointed at her lack of reaction, and Rae Lynn quickly explained her hesitancy.
“I ain’t so sure everyone would agree it’s such a good idea.”
“Oh. Otis.”
Rae Lynn gave her an apologetic look.
Cornelia said, “Let’s see what he says after he eats what you fixed here. One of the best ways to a man’s heart is good cooking. My own mama said so.”
Well, that right there was a problem. You had to have a heart to begin with, but Rae Lynn kept that thought to herself.
Chapter 23
Del
It had been ten days since he’d lifted her out of that hell, doubting she’d see another sunrise. After the first few days, she’d come around quick, and once he knew she’d be all right, his focus turned back to the work in the woods. Day by day he was getting used to the ways of his men, and they were becoming more used to him. After a while, they set about doing their jobs with more energy. He’d learned their given names, their wives’ names and wrote them in his tally book. Preacher: Beaufort Pindell; wife, Howardena. Big’Un: Harold Fuller; wife, Minnie. Sweet Thang: Horace Parks; wife, Lorna. Juke-n-Juice: Roger Robison; wife, Faith. They eyed him curiously when he asked. He liked knowing their Christian name, felt it was only proper, and right. When they weren’t working, that’s how he addressed them.