4
The pumpkins were ready to harvest, so Gigget worked with the kids to collect them. Maybe a few pumpkin pies at the next Farmer’s Market would sell? She had planted only a few of the sweet gourds and wasn’t even a fan of pumpkin pie, but so many others loved it.
“Can we carve a pumpkin?” Djoni asked.
“Yes, can we?” his sister chimed in, hopping with excitement.
So much for making pumpkin pies right now. Sharp knives and little ones didn’t mix well.
“What if instead of carving a pumpkin, you painted them?” she suggested. Still a messy job, but at least she could use her limited knife skills on the ones that would make her pie.
“That would be fun.” Djoni’s face scrunched with concentration. “I already know how I’ll paint mine.”
“I’ll make a horsey on mine. Much better than a smiley face,” Amoretta said.
“Great, I’ll grab the paints if you kids can get that one vinyl tablecloth to put on the table on the porch. It’s not too cold out. Oh, and grab your painting shirts.”
Once things were set up, the kids started working on their creations.
Gigget prepped the remaining pumpkins for pie making. Maybe she’d roast pumpkin seeds tomorrow.
Gigget paused to watch as her kids focused on their creations. Djoni’s tongue stuck out a tiny bit at the corner of his mouth and Amoretta was biting her bottom lip. Paint had already left marks on their faces and hands. Pulling out her phone, Gigget sought to capture the moment. How often did she get too busy trying to survive and miss sweet moments like this where the kids were happy and not fighting?
“Mommy, come see!” Djoni set his brushes in the cup of water.
Gigget moved around the table to inspect his pumpkin. “Wow, you did an abstract painting?” she asked.
“Yeah, remember that church where we go to get food? The windows were pretty. I wanted to do something like that.” His grin indicated how proud he was.
“I am impressed. We will let these dry out here, and tomorrow we will put them on the front porch.”
“Mommy, do you like mine?” Amoretta’s lower lip was trembling.
Gigget inspected the pumpkin. “Hmmm. The use of light and shade and the dynamic color choices definitely make your pretty pony one-of-a-kind.”
The little girl beamed but then frowned. “What is dynamic?”
“Oh, well, it can be used in a variety of ways, but how about these words: energetic, compelling, and vibrant.”
“What is vibrant?” Amoretta asked.
Gigget encouraged the kids to expand their vocabulary, but sometimes explaining things took a bit longer than she’d planned.
“See these bright, bold, colors you used? Especially that pink and the yellow. They stand out. Vibrant.”
The little girl beamed with pleasure. “I want to be vibrant too!”
Gigget laughed. “Both of you are vibrant. Before baths, take a look at your faces in the mirror.”
The children glanced at each other and started giggling.
“OK, time to clean up. It’s getting chilly out here and you’re probably frozen.”
Amoretta put the lids on the paint containers and began to gather them in her arms.
“Come on, Djoni. It’s only fair that you help, too.”
Djoni began to clean up.
After baths, bedtime prayers, and tucking the kids in, Gigget went to sit for a moment in her recliner. The chair leaned to the right, but it was probably the best piece of furniture she owned. She wondered if Bing would want a pumpkin pie. She’d set one aside for him. She sighed, rose from her chair, and began to roll out crusts. The pies wouldn’t bake themselves, and she had work in the morning.
~*~
Bing was taking his lunch break the next day when Fez found him. Great. Would they be doing this dance again? He’d been trying to avoid the man and even arranged a different break time in an effort to keep the peace. His friend, Puck Bellpepper, was sitting across from him, and his eyes widened as the taller man approached.
“Bing, you and I have something to finish,” Fez said.
“What, shall it be pistols or swords at dawn?” Bing looked at Puck. “You will be my second, won’t you?”
“Sure. Fez, who is your second? He’s the one I’ll need to talk to.” Puck took a bite of his apple with a loud crunch as if the entire thing was an inconvenience.
Bing fought a grin. “I get to choose, right? Since you’re the one challenging me.”
Wrinkled brows and a scowl indicated that Fez was not amused. Either that or they’d talked over his head.
“I want to fight you. Gigget is mine,” Mr. Ponderosa boasted loudly.
Bing set down his sandwich, took a drink of water, and then stood. Not that it made a ton of difference compared to the much taller man. What was the saying? The taller they are the harder they fall? Or was it the bigger? Either way, this man qualified. Lord, I don’t want a fight, but I want to protect Gigget from this loon. Please help a guy out here .
“Well?” Fez tapped his foot, eyes narrowed. His arms were crossed, which indicated a punch wasn’t imminent.
Bing was about to open his mouth, but others in the lunch room started to take notice of what was happening. He wanted to be a good witness to his Christian faith.
“I don’t want to fight you, Fez. We tried that twice before and it was obviously not a good match for you. And you’ve already lost in a battle of wits.”
Fez shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“My point exactly. I won’t bother explaining. Fighting is not allowed on company property.”
The men nearby stopped eating. A few stood and moved closer. But they sat back down as the shift supervisor approached.
“What seems to be all the commotion?”
“I apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Millybonk. Mr. Ponderosa has come to issue a challenge to a duel over a fair maiden,” Bing explained.
“I didn’t issue no duel!” Fez protested.
“You said you wanted to fight me over Ms. Wicket.” Bing stood his ground.
“That would be a duel, and they are outlawed here and definitely in this factory,” the supervisor said. “Fez Ponderosa, you have crossed too many lines lately. Go to human resources right now and wait for me there. And I don’t ever want to see you bugging Mr. Twinkle again.”
Fez’s arms had fallen to his sides, and his hands were clenched. His face grew red. He growled but turned and pushed his way through the crowd.
The supervisor turned to Bing. “Did you really need to talk like that? The guy has the intelligence of a gnat. He didn’t understand what you were talking about.”
“True, Herb, but the talking bought time for you to get here and kept me from needing to defend myself.”
“So, you did fight him after all, Bing,” Puck said. “You won in the battle of wits!”
The crowd around them, including the supervisor, chuckled.
Herb cleared his throat. “You all have five minutes to finish up and get back on the line. That includes you Bing.” The supervisor strode away as the other men headed back to their own work.
Bing finished the day satisfied with how he had handled Fez. He only prayed that Fez wouldn’t turn his aggressions to Gigget. He wished he had her phone number he could tell her what happened. If he knew where she lived, he’d be tempted to sit in his car tonight to keep watch against any untoward activity. He’d probably be arrested for stalking. Lord, protect Gigget and her children. Impede any desires on Fez’s part to do them mischief.