(a/n. I just realized that I've been using the term, the mistress, for "daddy's" wife, when I've been meaning to call her the misses. That's how I read it in my head. Starting now, that's how she'll be refereed to)
"You kno' what'd real help me, Mary?" I say, stoppin' 'er an' makin' 'er look to me.
"Tellin' yous all you doin' wron'?" She guesses, even though it ain't an actual, true guess. She jus' tryin' to rub in 'er victory even mo'- make it last, so years from now we can look back an' remember. Hopefully though, years from now- I'll get better memories to knock this one down. Maybe I even be married, to a man that ain't like Lloyd or Mista Smith. Or maybe I'll jus' be with James, up in Hill Country, readin' book I wanna read an' never talkin' to daddy 'gain.
"No. Why don' talk to 'em fo' me, make me sound like I a real great lady?"
I don' actually care if she do it or no, but it'd get rid of 'er an' maybe Lloyd would actually start bein' nice to me 'gain. Me an' Mary are jus' so different- we like the different types a people. There are those who like me- the blonde, cute girl- who may seem spolied an' ain't as, well trained as a southern belle should be. (In a way- I better, less mean version of the Misses). An' then there are those who like Mary. The not amazing pretty gurl, but the one who follows each an' every rule an' will basically be anotha slave fo' 'er husban'. Maybe Lloyd jus' like the latter.
"Now- why in the world would I wanna do that?"
"'Cause yous my sister."
"There ain't even nothin' good to say 'bout you."
"That ain't true!" I say, truest offended. I actually have tried lately ta be a better sister, an' I've tried to understand mo' of why Mary says all she do. I kno' we ain't never gonna be super close, but I can say good things 'bout 'er if I wanted.
She smiles, laughin' a bit an' turnin' to me. "I kno' it ain't. I jus' messin' with yous."
"Well it ain't funny." But I sorta laughin' too. Mary don' joke too much- she all straight an' serious. But when she do- that when I like 'er most.
"I'll go talk to 'em- if you like."
"Yes- please. Go do it now 'fore he leaves an' tells daddy he don' want nothin' to do with me."
She smirks a bit, still feelin' better than me- then skips off to go an' do the impossible.
"You kno' what'd real help me, Mary?" I say, stoppin' 'er an' makin' 'er look to me.
"Tellin' yous all you doin' wron'?" She guesses, even though it ain't an actual, true guess. She jus' tryin' to rub in 'er victory even mo'- make it last, so years from now we can look back an' remember. Hopefully though, years from now- I'll get better memories to knock this one down. Maybe I even be married, to a man that ain't like Lloyd or Mista Smith. Or maybe I'll jus' be with James, up in Hill Country, readin' book I wanna read an' never talkin' to daddy 'gain.
"No. Why don' talk to 'em fo' me, make me sound like I a real great lady?"
I don' actually care if she do it or no, but it'd get rid of 'er an' maybe Lloyd would actually start bein' nice to me 'gain. Me an' Mary are jus' so different- we like the different types a people. There are those who like me- the blonde, cute girl- who may seem spolied an' ain't as, well trained as a southern belle should be. (In a way- I better, less mean version of the Misses). An' then there are those who like Mary. The not amazing pretty gurl, but the one who follows each an' every rule an' will basically be anotha slave fo' 'er husban'. Maybe Lloyd jus' like the latter.
"Now- why in the world would I wanna do that?"
"'Cause yous my sister."
"There ain't even nothin' good to say 'bout you."
"That ain't true!" I say, truest offended. I actually have tried lately ta be a better sister, an' I've tried to understand mo' of why Mary says all she do. I kno' we ain't never gonna be super close, but I can say good things 'bout 'er if I wanted.
She smiles, laughin' a bit an' turnin' to me. "I kno' it ain't. I jus' messin' with yous."
"Well it ain't funny." But I sorta laughin' too. Mary don' joke too much- she all straight an' serious. But when she do- that when I like 'er most.
"I'll go talk to 'em- if you like."
"Yes- please. Go do it now 'fore he leaves an' tells daddy he don' want nothin' to do with me."
She smirks a bit, still feelin' better than me- then skips off to go an' do the impossible.
