Page 58 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

“No, we’ll have two.”

I show Gertie the quarter and her ears perk up. “Where’d you get that?”

“Mother gave it to me.”

“We could have five soda pops with a whole quarter!”

I lean closer. “How about we get two malts and leave sourpuss a huge tip just for fun?” Ethel scowls at me, and walks off. I shrug to Gertie, “What’s she upset for? Doesn’t she like tips?”

“May, you are bad!”

“Got your smile back, didn’t I? That’s worth every nickel in the whole world put together.”

Peter, Lily, Sable, and Marvin run in, one after the other to pile into the booth with us. Peter makes like Hank did, sitting on the back as he asks, “Hey, did you hear? Hank joined the Navy!”

Gertie and I look at each other, and she asks, “How did you find that out?”

“So you knew? Why, he just phoned. Say ten minutes ago. I drove right over to Sable’s and got the girls.”

Marvin explains, “I was already there.”

My eyebrows rise. “Oh, you were, were you?”

Sable sticks her tongue out at me as Peter asks Gertie, “How did you find out?”

Her shoulders proudly square as she answers, “He called me first, of course. How do you think I know?”

They dive into our friend’s bold decision, dissecting how he could have accomplished such a feat — did he thumb for rides?! — and while they do, I’m smiling at Gertie, pleased that she’s confident of her place in Hank’s brave heart.

33

MAY

Mother and I drive to the Cocker residence in our best dresses.“What if she isn’t home?” I nervously ask.

“I don’t know if she’s home this very minute, but they are back from Washington, that I’m sure of.”

She turns the wheel.

“How do you know that?”

“I happened to drive by on my way home from the store last night.”

Mother admires Frances Cocker very much. I saw it in her manner on the warm autumn day they met at church, and how she told the story of riding next to Mrs. Cocker in our pickup truck more than once when her friends stopped by. Frances is a charming woman with an impressive sense of style, who makes everyone around her feel comfortable.

Mother expected the status of the Cocker family to show in their attitudes, and was delighted she was wrong.

For today’s visit, much care was put into selecting the correct handbag and matching hat. Those pearls are purely for special occasions.

I am also guilty of looking my absolute best in the hopes that Jerald’s mother finds me appealing. I care so very much for her son, and it would mean the world to me if she thought us a good match.

Mother parks the pickup behind the car he and I soaked at our picnic, her hand fluttering to the ignition as I stare at the memory.

An embarrassed smile tugs up her cheeks. “Don’t know why I’m so nervous!” She takes a deep breath, and we open our doors at the same time, hopping onto solid ground.

Mother slides her fresh rhubarb pie from where it rested on a towel to prevent slippage. Looking in the mirror, she touches her curls, and gives the door a swing of her hip.

Side-by-side we walk up the beautifully landscaped path, in awe of their home. I lift an iron knocker of a lion’s face to give three gentle raps, alerting our arrival.

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