Mercurial

Chapter Three

Once the breakfast dishes are washed and dried, I pull on my bonnet, grab the egg basket, and slip out the front door. I make my way down the long drive with fast, determined steps. Turning right on the main dirt road, I hear the front door of the house slam, "Wait!"

I slow down a little until Lizzie catches up. "Why didn't you wait to leave until I was ready?" She pants. "That wasn't very considerate of you."

"If I had waited until you decided you were ready, the eggs would have been rotten." I clench my skirt.

Lizzie crosses her arms, "That's not fair. I was almost ready, but because of you, I had to leave my bonnet behind. I'm blaming you for every last freckle I get."

There are so many words just begging to roll right off my tongue, so I bite it instead and walk a little bit faster. I hear Lizzie sigh behind me, and then trot to catch up, stirring up a thick cloud of dust under her feet.

Before Momma started the laundry business, I was able to take the eggs into town by myself. It wasn't much, but when you live in a small house with five other people, you take any time alone you can get. Now Lizzie has to come with me to help carry the laundry sacks back. Just one more reason Momma's business has changed my life for the worse.

We walk the rest of the two miles to town in silence. Once we get to the mercantile, Lizzie wanders off to look at all the expensive frivolities our family will never be able to afford while I conduct the business.

Mrs. Collier sets down her fancy feather duster and strides over to inspect the eggs. "Good morning, girls. I surely hope your family is doing well."

"Morning," I rest my elbows on the counter and cup my head in my hands. Mrs. Collier bends down and gets a small dish tucked behind the counter and sets it in front of me. Broken peppermint sticks, deformed gumdrops, and melted hard candy overflows from a ceramic bowl with a tiny, detailed flower pattern dancing around the rim. Two years ago, I learned that Mrs. Collier saves all the unsellable candy to offer here and there to customers on too tight a budget to purchase the treats on any kind of regular basis. The first time she put the bowl in front of me, I was awestruck by the flowers. The many shades of yellow used in each one look so exact and lifelike. Mrs. Collier almost started tearing up on seeing my amazement with the bowl, it caught her by complete surprise to find that my fascination was not with the candy, but the bowl itself. It was disappointing to learn that she didn't have any knowledge of what paint was used, but I don't suppose I know what kind of sheep was used to create my socks either.

I pop a bite-sized peppermint in my mouth, "Thank you, yes ma'am, they are."

"Good, good. I haven't seen Maggie in so long, with you girls around to run all the errands," she smiles wistfully. "She really is doing well?"

"I suppose so. The same as usual, anyway."

Mrs. Collier nods, a knowing look in her eyes. Turning to dust the row of goods behind her, she says over her shoulder, "You know, I always expected your ma to do something with her life. Something crazy that no one else would understand. In the end, I guess she did when she married your pa so young, but not in the way I expected. I miss her."

"We don't live so far away. It's a pretty short walk and an even shorter ride." That's not what she meant though, and I know it.

Mrs. Collier pauses, duster midair, for a moment. "Yes, of course. Tell her to come over some time for iced tea."

"I'll do that. Thanks again for the candy, I should probably get going."

"That's right, you're collecting laundry today, aren't you? Here I am, rambling on and keeping you from your duties. It's just so quiet in here some mornings; I enjoy the company." She counts and presses a few coins in my hand. "Any time you have a sweet tooth for some candy and time to spare, come on over and stay awhile."