“Working, Mother. Elder Theodonna and I?—”
“We’re going to be late. Get in here and get changed.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Oh, my poor heart. If we’re late, who knows what the others will think? Linden? Linden! Now, where has your father gone? Have you seen him, Primrose?”
“No, Mother. I’ve just come from?—”
“Go get ready! Oh, I have to check on my pie. What if it doesn’t set in time? Where was I? No one listens to me, Bilbi,” my mother wailed to the poor dog. “And now, we will all be late! What will Cousin Annie Beth think?”
“We have time, Mother,” I called. “The sun doesn’t even set for two hours.”
My mother merely wailed in reply.
Shaking my head, I passed through the house to the stairs. Everything was in upheaval, a reflection of my mother’s mood. The pans in the sink were washing themselves but clanging in protest. The brooms were sweeping dust toward one another. My mother’s outfit for the evening sat on the sewing table, still unfinished. Beside it, my mother’s sewing basket was tossing out ribbons in frustration.
“Not that color,” my mother told the basket. “No. No. I said pink. Not that pink! No. No. That’s mauve. No. Lighter!”
I could have sworn the basket heaved a sigh.
Throwing her hands in the air, my mother turned and looked at me. “Primrose, what are you waiting for? Get upstairs and change,” she said, then eyed me over. “Oh, I hope those overalls still fit. Linden, where are you?”
“Here, Popkin,” my father called, entering through the back door, the screen door behind him closing with a clap.
“What… What have you been doing?”
“Reading.”
“Reading? Reading! But you’ll never be dressed in?—”
“I’m already dressed, Popkin.”
My mother paused and assessed my father, who stood in the entryway of the kitchen eating an apple.
I grinned at him.
Catching sight of me, he winked at me in reply.
Tonight was the fancy overalls party at Cousin Annie Beth’s farm, an event that always had my mother in a tizzy. My father, predicting chaos, was already suited for the battle. Dressed in his elaborate auburn-colored corduroy overalls, the cuffs embroidered with vines, an orange tunic underneath, he played the part of a pumpkin.
“Where is your hat?” my mother asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Here,” my father replied cheerfully, pulling the orange beret from his pocket and tossing it onto his head, his pointed ears poking up from either side. At the top of the beret was a green pumpkin stem with enchanted leaves that seemed to wag in the breeze.
My mother heaved an exasperated sigh. “Look at you, already ready but not helping me one bit! Oh, the pie will still be warm! Primrose, why are you lingering? Upstairs and dressed! And be sure to do your hair the way Rosalyn showed you. Oh, that Rosalyn is such an elegant one. That girl could wear a grain sack and still look beautiful. Fix your hair just like she said. Kevin will be there tonight,” she added in a knowing tone.
I didn’t answer. My mother was absolutely committed to the idea that I would marry Kevin, a very polite young man who worked for Cousin Annie Beth’s husband and had a personality as engaging as a wall.
Frowning, I turned and escaped from any further discussion of Kevin.
Having forgotten me, my mother turned on my father once more. “Well, are you going to help me or not?”
“And how, exactly, can I help you, Popkin?”
“Oh! No one ever listens to me!”
I slipped into my room and closed the door behind me. I leaned back against it for a moment, closing my eyes and attempting to drown out my mother’s caterwauling. When that didn’t work, I opened my eyes once more and snapped my fingers, causing the lute in the corner to come to life and play an enchanting tune that was loud enough to drown her complaining.
