Page 56 of Our Own Light

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Oliver said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Floyd stayed quiet for the rest of the way.

After they went inside, Floyd left to wash up from work. Effie had already prepared a wash basin with water for him. Meanwhile, Oliver stayed out in the living room and played jacks with Josephine. Effie, who was finishing up a bean and vegetable stew over the stove, kept looking back and smiling, which was making Oliver so nervous that he kept messing up his moves. Which was fine. Because playing poorly was proving to be an effective way to further win over Floyd’s adorable little girl.

Sometime later, Floyd came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of tan slacks, a light blue button-down shirt, and brown suspenders. Seeing this picture-perfect outfit, Oliver reached up to shield his mouth with his hand in a pathetic attempt to conceal the size of his embarrassingly large smile.

Floyd smiled shyly in response, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Is supper ready?” he asked.

And this was when Effie saw him.

“Oh my word, you look so handsome!” she said, her eyes sparkling with fondness. “Don’t he look handsome, Oliver?”

Oliver had only just managed to reign in his stupid smile. And now it had come back.

“Exceedingly handsome,” Oliver admitted with a lovesick sigh, one that had seemingly come out against his will.

“You hear that, Floyd? Exceedingly handsome.”

Effie said these last two words like this compliment was the pinnacle of all compliments. Now blushing madly, Oliver looked away. He heard Josephine hop to her feet.

“Daddy, you look like you’re going to church,” she said. “Is it a church night?”

Effie laughed softly. “No, baby. Daddy wanted to look nice for his friend, is all.”

“Oh. Can I wear my Sunday dress, then? I want to look nice for Mister Oliver, too.”

“Sure, why not?”

Josephine shrieked and ran into the bedroom, so excited to change that she slammed the door behind her. Effie and Floyd looked at each other and shrugged.

“She never wants to wear nothing fancy, normally,” Effie said. “I have to beg her to put on her Sunday dress on Sunday. Guess you must be special, Oliver.”

“Oh yes, I’m even more special than Jesus,” Oliver said, realizing his social faux pas the moment the words tumbled out of his mouth.

To Oliver’s relief, Effie laughed. Floyd laughed, too, of course, but that wasn’t nearly as surprising anymore. Floyd had probably become accustomed to Oliver’s proclivity for socially unacceptable humor by now.

“Well, I ain’t sure about that,” Effie said. “But Floyd seems to worship you.”

“Effie!” Floyd scolded. He picked up the nearest piece of paper, rolled it up, and smacked her in the arm with it. “Hush up!”

Effie kept laughing. “Look, if y’all want to be whatever it is that you’re trying to be, you best let me have some fun with it.”

Floyd whacked her again. But Effie was stubborn.

“Floyd is so smitten with you, Oliver. He talks about you like a preacher on a mission.”

Another whack.

“I think you need to surrender,” Oliver said. “I have a feeling Effie is tenacious enough to keep embarrassing you with these clever comments, no matter how many times you pummel her with two ounces of paper.”

With an irritated-sounding grunt, Floyd dropped the roll of paper onto the table, though he was smiling a lot, if not a tad red in the face. Josephine skipped into the kitchen wearing a pink and white dress, the same one Oliver had seen her wear to church.

“Ready!” Josephine squirmed. “It’s still a little wet.”

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