Page 30 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

I smile, “Then a quarter past seven.”

With our group splitting up, we say our farewells.

Just me and Hank now. As we hop in the car I ask, “What’s with the smile?”

“And you didn’t wanna come to my dumb dance!”

16

MAY

Father pushes the tin closer to my empty plate. “Go on and fix yourself a slice before these kids rob you of the chance.”

Margaret and Matthew are already diving into their second slices. I stare at what’s left in the tin, concentrating a little too hard on it.

“What’s the matter, May?” Mother asks. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

All through dinner I’ve hardly said a word. I tried to join in with their lively conversation, everyone in a good mood after enjoying a nice Saturday in their varying ways, but all I can think about is that Jerald will be calling on me soon, and I don’t know how to face it.

“I’m sorry, Mother, I was just thinking it might be nice to go to the malt shop tonight. And I might ruin my appetite.” I hurriedly add, “Your pie is always so delicious, it’s awful tempting.”

Distracted by my compliment, it takes her a moment. “Thank you, May, I know apple crumb is your favorite. That’s why I made it…after the fight we had last night.”

Father reaches over to help himself to another. “Why don’t you stay home tonight? I’m sure those friends of yours won’t mind. You can see them any day, and your Mother made this special for you.”

My stomach turns over, and I swallow hard.

“There now, don’t look so glum,” Mother sighs, resting her wrist by her plate with fingers tense. “Nobody is forcing you to eat the pie.”

“It isn’t that, really it isn’t!”

“Then what is it?”

Even the children are staring now.

I swallow again. “A boy is picking me up at a quarter past seven.”

Father pushes his plate away. “What boy is this?”

Mother asks, “Do we know him?”

With four sets of eyes waiting for my answer, I struggle, “You might.”

But I’m hoping they don’t. If I’ve ever been lucky, this one time had better be it.

Father hits the table. “Well?”

“His name is Jerald, and he’s a very nice boy. A Congressman’s son.”My folks glance to each other and from the looks of it they might be impressed. They have found consolation in the fact that he’s not from the wrong side of the tracks. Given courage by this, I press on, “I was worried about telling you because he is…” Twenty-two in two months. “Nineteen.”

“Out of high school?!”

“Yes.”

“In College?!!”

“He um…enlisted in the Navy, and is leaving Monday.”

It’s true! He did enlist, three years ago. And he is leaving Monday. Keep your face innocent and stop feeling so darn bad!

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