Page 5 of Our Own Light

It wasn’t long before Floyd reached his house. It was a near duplicate of the other homes closest to the train tracks—a single-story dwelling with white siding and a front porch. As soon as he stepped inside, Josephine came running toward him, her long blonde hair swishing back and forth with each step. Kneeling, Floyd set his poke by his feet and held out his arms for her to barrel into. It made him so happy that she was still so excited to see her daddy every evening.

“Josephine May,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she said before pulling away. “Want to see a new trick I learned?”

“Sure, pretty lady.”

Josephine planted her palms flat on the floor and proceeded to kick her legs up in the air. For a split second, she balanced perfectly, but then tumbled sideways and crashed into the rocking chair to her right, making it topple. Even though she’d landed with a loud thud, she only cackled. Floyd couldn’t remember the last time she so much as whimpered from falling, let alone cried from it. Stubborn and feisty, Josephine was a force to be reckoned with.

“I had it earlier, I swear.”

Her comment—“I swear”—made Floyd think of Oliver and that big mouth of his.

Floyd wagged his finger in a playful manner. “No swearing in this house.”

He looked up to see his wife, Effie, watching with a hand on her hip, her short honey-brown hair hidden beneath the white silk scarf she had tied around her head. Gosh, she was beautiful. In the eight years they had been married, she had only become prettier. Not only was Effie’s new, shorter haircut flattering for her heart-shaped face, but the crow’s feet that now lingered in the corners of her eyes were nothing if not becoming. In moments like these, Floyd nearly found himself wishing he could feel something more than friendship toward her.

“If she’s swearing, I promise she hasn’t picked it up from me,” Effie teased.

Floyd picked up the poke and pushed himself to stand. “Jo was showing me how she can balance on two hands.”

“Josephine, if you keep this up, you’re fixing to break your neck,” Effie scolded in a light-hearted manner before pointing over to the hallway. “Now that you’re covered in coal dust, you better wash up.”

With a pout, Josephine skulked off to wash her hands in the basin. Effie narrowed her eyes at Floyd in a jokey manner, and Floyd feigned innocence in return, shrugging his shoulders and looking away.

“You and her are so alike,” Effie said. “If Josephine was a boy, she’d be trying to work right alongside you in the mines.”

“She’s only seven.”

“You think that’d stop her? I’m pretty sure she’ll chop off that hair of hers and follow you to work soon enough,” Effie said with a sigh. “She’s a tomboy, alright. Always climbing trees and learning new stunts. I caught her with a slingshot yesterday.”

“What can I say, Effie? Guess she takes after me.”

Effie pursed her lips, an obvious attempt to contain her smile.

“I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty sure that ain’t how it works.”

“Mmm... I disagree.” Floyd lowered his voice to a whisper. “I may not be her father, but I am her daddy. I learned her everything she knows.”

He wrapped his free arm around Effie, who immediately elbowed him in the side.

“Are you trying to ruin my clothes?” she asked.

Before Floyd could answer, Josephine called out as she returned.

“All clean!” she said. “Can we eat now?”

Effie looked up at Floyd. “You better wash up, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once Floyd had finished washing up and had changed out of his work clothes, the three of them sat at the table for supper—cornbread, baked beans, and coleslaw. It was one of their most frequent meals, but Floyd still loved it. He eagerly dipped a hunk of cornbread into the bean sauce. Josephine copied him.

“You were later than usual today,” Effie said, poking at her coleslaw with a fork. “Something happen at the mine?”

“No,” Floyd answered. “I met a strange fella at the store. He’s from the city. Or a city. Dressed all fancy and such. He wants to be a miner. Was trying to convince Charlie that he was owed a single-family home even though he ain’t a family man. I took him over to James Donohue’s place. Maybe the two of ’em will work something out.”

“That was nice of you.”

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