Chapter 21 #2
When Lucille comes back out of the kitchen, her face says it all: Glory hallelujah, it is fried chicken night at the Heidelberg home.
I am setting the table when Lucille opens the china cabinet.
I see her push a wood panel aside in the back and reach behind it and pull a bottle out of what looks like a secret compartment.
I think what in the world and then I put two and two together.
I bet that is illegal liquor in there. And that is where they hide it from the police.
Who would guess I am living with a couple criminals?
Well I can’t stand it and ask, Aren’t you afraid the sheriff will arrest you for that?
Lucille says HA loud enough for Tom to hear and, At least then I’d get my name in the paper. My name hasn’t been in print since Edith’s coming-out party.
She goes back in the kitchen and hacks ice off a block and throws it in a clear pitcher, then pours stuff from the bottle on top.
Care to imbibe tonight, Tom? she asks.
He says, No. And that is all he has to say about that.
Tonight, Tom sets the bowls of food directly on the table.
A basket of dee-licious-looking fried chicken in a red-checked napkin, mashed potatoes, gravy, some green peas I will not be touching, and a bowl of fruit mix with something suspicious sprinkled on top.
And like a grand-prize finale, a plate of fluffy buttery biscuits.
When we sit down, Lucille waves the chicken basket away from her, saying all she’s having tonight is ambrosia salad. Good. More. For. Me. When Tom holds the basket my way, I take a leg. Around here you can go back for seconds so you do not appear greedy the first time.
According to manners, there are only two things in the world a person is allowed to eat with fingers: a vegetable I do not recall and fried chicken.
Which works out good since that’s the way fried chicken tastes best. This chicken is crispy and brown on the outside, but when I take a bite, oh it is too hot!
I cover my mouth with my hand so not to chew with it open.
Breathe and chew and keep a eye on my plate.
Lord, I will be a hundred and still making sure nobody steals my damn food.
I am just about to take a second bite when all of a sudden my happiness is interrupted by a very loud brRRIIING in the next room. I near jump clean out of my skin.
It’s just the telephone, Meg, Tom says gently. You’ve never heard a telephone before?
No sir. I feel like a fool. Sounded like the house was on damn fire to me.
Lucille gets up to stop the racket, and I work on my mashed potato walls.
I push them high like a fortress to keep the pool of gravy from spilling over.
I do not like my food touching. These are some very tasty potatoes and gravy.
Tom has got his ear up, like he is listening to the next room.
After a minute, Lucille sits back down. She takes a long sip of her drink and says, Well.
That was Willy May at the big house. They’ll be home in a few days.
But I thought they’d be gone until at least next week, Tom says.
Telegram said seas favorable. Home sooner than expected. She grips the pitcher and refills her glass, splashing some on the table.
If they mean the Heidelbergs, I personally am looking forward to meeting these cousins.
Tom sets his napkin on the table and says he’s calling to find out more.
I go back to my chicken leg. Wonder should I help myself to that good-looking thigh before I finish this leg?
Just to see how nice it’ll look on my plate …
Meg. Meg, I need you to look at me.
I look at her. The chicken leg still stuffed in my mouth.
Did you hear? Tom’s family’s coming home soon, so you’ll be meeting everybody.
Yes ma’am.
Set the chicken leg down and listen to me. I set the chicken leg down. Now, I need to tell you exactly what to say when you meet the Heidelbergs.
Do you know how old they are and if there are any girls my age—
LISTEN to me, Meg. She sets both her elbows on the table. Which is rude. I have not met a woman yet could stand a elbow on a table.
When you meet Mr. and Mrs. Heidelberg, I want you to tell them exactly this: You tell them that we adopted you from a Mrs. Georgia Tann at the Tennessee Children’s Home Society in Memphis, Tennessee. You understand that? Mrs. Georgia Tann, Tennessee Children’s Home Society, Memphis, Tennessee.
Yes ma’am, but—
No buts, I want you to say it back to me.
So I say it back. Mrs. Georgia Tann, Tennessee Children’s Home Society, Memphis, Tennessee. But I got to ask, I don’t understand why I—
Because I said so, alright? she snaps. And like she doesn’t like it a bit herself, she says, And because if you don’t say it, we’ll have to take you back to that shithole you came from.
That is all she has to say. I tell her, I will say I’m from Memphis. You can count on me.
Good. Thank you, and she takes a long drink, sets it down. And whatever you do, don’t tell anybody we’ve got liquor in this house. Even if they ask.
Tom walks back in, nodding his head. He sits in his chair. They should be home any day now. They’re saying the reception will be a couple of days after that, so they can rest. Tom looks at me like he is sorry. Meg, there’s something we need to talk to you about.
It’s already been taken care of, Lucille says. We girls understand each other well. Isn’t that right, Meg?
Yes, ma’am. We sure do.