I hand it to her and she finds the word, pretendin' that the red on her face is only from the heat. That smirk on Mary ain't there no longer, instead she just sits quietly, gaze on the floor, hands rolled together in her lap. The corner of my lips inch up in triumph.
Miss. Lizabeth studies the word for a minute, her lips still pressed in a line. It takes everything I have not to point out that she ain't any smarter than me.
"This word here, Corinne?" She points to it, and much to her dismay, I nod. She instantly frowns, her brows furrowed together. It feels real good to win again.
She don't say anything for a while, letting the room lay in a thick silence. She keeps squintin' and leanin' closer to the page like it'd help. She ain't foolin' no one, even Mary knows she don't know that word.
"Well, I think we're done with readin' today. Why don't we work on some arithmetic?"
She places the Holy Book on the table next to her, not even markin' the page we were on. She ignores my eyes, turnin' to Mary who instantly agrees with Miss. Lizabeth's idea. Mary ain't as bad at arithmetic as she is at readin'. But she ain't good neither.
And as much as I love the bubbly feelin' in my stomach that came from winnin', I wish she could've told me what it meant.
"Corinne, will you grab the books from the parlor?"
I don't respond, knowin' I really have no real choice. I grumble a little under my breath, though mostly for my sake, and stalk outta the room. The parlor ain't real close to the study, so I rush as I walk, knowin' if I ain't back fast than Miss. Lizabeth will be real mad.
I stop when I hear daddy's voice, whisperin' something to a man I ain't ever seen before. He has a real thick mustache and hair so dark, it's nearly black. He ain't big or nothin', but with just one glace, I know somethin' is off. I ain't usually scared for no reason.
"You know how long it's been?"
My daddy nods, lookin' as pale as a ghost. He fidgets with his thumb, waitin' for the stranger to go on.
I look down the hall, unsure what to do. Should I continue? I ignore the weird feelin' in my gut and find a hidin' spot behind the wall. Whatever daddy is confessin', I bet is more important than addin' some numbers together.
I feel guilty for about a minute, but then I hear the words leavin' the strangers lips, and I know I made the right choice.
Miss. Lizabeth studies the word for a minute, her lips still pressed in a line. It takes everything I have not to point out that she ain't any smarter than me.
"This word here, Corinne?" She points to it, and much to her dismay, I nod. She instantly frowns, her brows furrowed together. It feels real good to win again.
She don't say anything for a while, letting the room lay in a thick silence. She keeps squintin' and leanin' closer to the page like it'd help. She ain't foolin' no one, even Mary knows she don't know that word.
"Well, I think we're done with readin' today. Why don't we work on some arithmetic?"
She places the Holy Book on the table next to her, not even markin' the page we were on. She ignores my eyes, turnin' to Mary who instantly agrees with Miss. Lizabeth's idea. Mary ain't as bad at arithmetic as she is at readin'. But she ain't good neither.
And as much as I love the bubbly feelin' in my stomach that came from winnin', I wish she could've told me what it meant.
"Corinne, will you grab the books from the parlor?"
I don't respond, knowin' I really have no real choice. I grumble a little under my breath, though mostly for my sake, and stalk outta the room. The parlor ain't real close to the study, so I rush as I walk, knowin' if I ain't back fast than Miss. Lizabeth will be real mad.
I stop when I hear daddy's voice, whisperin' something to a man I ain't ever seen before. He has a real thick mustache and hair so dark, it's nearly black. He ain't big or nothin', but with just one glace, I know somethin' is off. I ain't usually scared for no reason.
"You know how long it's been?"
My daddy nods, lookin' as pale as a ghost. He fidgets with his thumb, waitin' for the stranger to go on.
I look down the hall, unsure what to do. Should I continue? I ignore the weird feelin' in my gut and find a hidin' spot behind the wall. Whatever daddy is confessin', I bet is more important than addin' some numbers together.
I feel guilty for about a minute, but then I hear the words leavin' the strangers lips, and I know I made the right choice.
