Today's Reading
It had been a splurge, more than they could afford, to buy everyone Richardson boot skates for Christmas. But last year Leroy played the big shot, telling Tuesday to order whatever she wanted from the skate catalog. He brought home a money order from the bank, and she put the whole kit and caboodle in the mail the day after Halloween. The skates arrived a week before Christmas. Lordy, how the boys shouted when they unwrapped their boxes.
While Tuesday loved her skates—which she'd not trade for anything—she remained a bit vexed that she still cooked on a wood-burning stove. Sakes alive, it was 1932, and no matter how many hints she dropped to Leroy, he never clued in. She might just have to take matters into her own hands. Or flat out say, Lee, I need a new stove. But he was stubborn. Sometimes the more a body wanted something from him, the more he resisted.
While the boys thumped around upstairs, Tuesday got to work on tomorrow morning's bread, then hurried to freshen up.
"Can we get some popcorn, Ma?" Dup dropped into his usual seat at the table, clutching his skates.
"Don't see why not." Tuesday set the dough aside, then reached for the cannister on the pantry's top shelf. "Maybe a soda pop too." The can contained the fun money she earned from helping Mr. Hoboth at the rink. "I can hear Dirk firing up the organ as we speak." She took her pocketbook off the hook by the door and stuffed two dollars inside. "LJ, what are you doing?" She called up the stairs. "Get a move on. Don't forget to bring my skates. Dup, go see what your brother is doing."
His skates clattered to the floor, and he started yelling before he left the kitchen, "LJ, Ma says hurry up."
Now where was her lipstick? Caught in the torn lining of her purse, that's where. Tuesday leaned toward the windowpane, using it as a mirror, when she heard, "Am I invited too?"
She whirled around to see Leroy at the door, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He gave her a sheepish grin, hat in his hand. Fifteen years together, and he still made her knees weak.
"Lee, what are you doing here? It's only Wednesday." She capped her lipstick and ran into his arms. "About the other day...I didn't mean what I said."
"Sure you did, and I deserved it." He pressed his lips to hers, drawing all the blood in her veins to her heart. "I'm sorry, Tooz. I didn't mean to pop off and leave without a word."
"I'm sorry too, and I'm so glad you're home." She brushed aside his dark bangs and searched his blue eyes. Too handsome for anyone's good, she'd fallen in love with him the moment he asked her to skate.
He'd just returned from the war, and her friends whispered, "He's trouble." But Tuesday Morrow did not care. If he was trouble, let her sink in deep. Beneath his cotton shirt beat the heart of a warrior.
"The boys and I took a run near here." He released her as he gazed toward the stove and tossed his hat onto the table. "I thought I'd pop in to see my favorite gal. My beautiful wife."
"Well, my boys and I were about to go skating." She took a step back. She hated that he referred to his crew as "the boys." LJ and Dupree were his boys. The others were junior thugs of some sort.
"Don't start, Tooz." He opened the icebox. "Can you heat up some supper?"
"Why don't you come with us and buy a hot dog?"
He frowned. "All I ever eat is diner fare. I'd like some home cooking."
"Home cooking? You think I made pot roast and potatoes, with an apple pie for dessert? We live on beans, corn bread, sourdough bread, eggs, cereal, and milk, Lee. If you want a bowl of beans, stir up the stove and grab a pot. And if you're tired of diner fare, well, that's all on you." Tuesday braced for his reply, but the boys—their boys—clambered down the stairs and into the kitchen.
"Pa!" LJ dropped his skates and fell against him. Dup clung to Lee's arm. "You're home. Golly gumdrops. Can you skate with us?"
LJ poised for a dash upstairs to retrieve Lee's Richardson skates, the ones he'd worn only once in the last six months.
"Um, well, I suppose." He glanced at Tuesday, longing in his eyes for something besides dinner, which made her burn through and through, wanting him more than the Starlight. At least for now. He tipped his head toward the ceiling. Can't we...?
"Get your father's skates, LJ," Tuesday said. Lee would just have to wait. "We'll have a much-needed family outing."
...
