“That was kind of him.”
Jud Hoboth, along with Burt, had managed the rink ever since Prince Blue left to command a Lauchtenland regiment during the Great War. Hoboth was a nice man, if not temperamental, with one foot out the door, always talking about adventures out west or down Mexico way. But what would happen to the Starlight if he just took off?
“Go on inside, wash your hands. Dinner’s on.”
“Can we go, huh? All the kids are going tonight.”
“When have I ever said no to the Starlight? I might go too.”
The house rattled as the boys ran up the stairs and fought to be first at minuscule bathroom sink. When they came down, their faces were washed, their hair combed and slicked back, and their shirts soaking wet.
Tuesday loved her boys.
She served them bowls of pork and beans, corn bread slathered in butter, and cold milk. “What’d y’all do today?”
In the summer, she let them tear all over God’s green earth after morning chores. Growing boys needed to use up their energy. They came home to dinner stained, filthy, and full of stories, then scampered back outside until dark. Then it was bath time, followed by popcorn and their radio program, Jack Benny or Eddie Cantor, ever since baseball banned broadcast of their games.
“We went fishing on the beach,” LJ said, dipping his corn bread in his bowl.
“We helped Cap’n Tatum unload a fresh haul.” Dup gulped down his milk. “He gave us fifty cents, so we went to Biggs for candy. Got a milkshake at Alderman’s too.” He handed Tuesday his bowl for seconds.
“Then we got up a game of kickball with the fellas,” LJ said. “We lost, thanks to Dup.”
“Did not.”
“Did so.”
Tuesday returned Dup’s bowl, steamy and full. “I thought two young men in this house wanted to go to the Starlight tonight.”
That shut them up. Worked every time. The forty-five-year-old rink was loved by the entire Knight family. Even Leroy.
“I’m going to skate on a racing team when I get bigger,” Dup said.
“Ah, you’re not fast enough.” LJ reached around and yanked Dup’s hat from his head. “You’re at the table.”
“I am too fast enough. Take it back. Ma—”
“You’ll be fast when you need to be.” Tuesday gave LJ a side glance.Be nice.
When they finished eating and the boys had washed the dishes—which always included flinging Super Suds at each other—Tuesday said, “Get your skates. Bring mine as well.”
It had been a splurge, more than they could afford, to buy everyone Richardson boot skates for Christmas. But last year Leroy played the big shot, telling Tuesday to order whatever she wanted from the skate catalog. He brought home a money order from the bank, and she put the whole kit and caboodle in the mail the day after Halloween. The skates arrived a week before Christmas. Lordy, how the boys shouted when they unwrapped their boxes.
While Tuesday loved her skates—which she’d not trade for anything—she remained a bit vexed that she still cooked on a wood-burning stove. Sakes alive, it was 1932, and no matter how many hints she dropped to Leroy, he never clued in. She might just have to take matters into her own hands. Or flat out say,Lee,I need a new stove.But he was stubborn. Sometimes the more a body wanted something from him, the more he resisted.
While the boys thumped around upstairs, Tuesday got to work on tomorrow morning’s bread, then hurried to freshen up.
“Can we get some popcorn, Ma?” Dup dropped into his usual seat at the table, clutching his skates.
“Don’t see why not.” Tuesday set the dough aside, then reachedfor the cannister on the pantry’s top shelf. “Maybe a soda pop too.” The can contained the fun money she earned from helping Mr. Hoboth at the rink. “I can hear Dirk firing up the organ as we speak.” She took her pocketbook off the hook by the door and stuffed two dollars inside. “LJ, what are you doing?” She called up the stairs. “Get a move on. Don’t forget to bring my skates. Dup, go see what your brother is doing.”
His skates clattered to the floor, and he started yelling before he left the kitchen, “LJ, Ma says hurry up.”
Now where was her lipstick? Caught in the torn lining of her purse, that’s where. Tuesday leaned toward the windowpane, using it as a mirror, when she heard, “Am I invited too?”
She whirled around to see Leroy at the door, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He gave her a sheepish grin, hat in his hand. Fifteen years together, and he still made her knees weak.
“Lee, what are you doing here? It’s only Wednesday.” She capped her lipstick and ran into his arms. “About the other day ... I didn’t mean what I said.”
