Free The Sittin' Up by Shelia P. Moses

baking cakes for the store, she up half the night making flowers for weddings, funerals, and birthday parties for white folk. We best not tell her that Miss Lottie Pearl fed her cake to the chickens even if Miss Remie did pay for it.
    When Cousin Ada Bea heard that Mr. Bro. Wiley was gone, she sent word to Ma to pick a mess of flowers and she would make the prettiest arrangements folk in Rich Square had ever seen. She said when she was done, her husband, Cousin Floyd, would take the arrangement over to Mr. Gordon.
    No sooner than I’d eaten breakfast, Pole was standing at the back door waiting for me. She had her face mashed against the screen door.
    â€œGood morning.” She was the happiest I’d seen her since Papa told them that Mr. Bro. Wiley was gone. Happier than when she learned she was gonna be a flower girl. I could see her deep dimples clear through the screen.
    â€œGood morning, Pole,” we all said.
    â€œI came to get an early start with the flowers.”
    â€œWell, we appreciate it, Pole. Would you like some breakfast?” Ma asked.
    â€œOh no, ma’am. I ate already.”
    â€œCan I be excused?” I said.
    â€œYes, go-go on, Bean.”
    â€œWhat we gonna put the flowers in to keep them fresh?” Pole asked as soon as my feet hit the steps.
    â€œWe can use the old washtub,” I said. We walked over to the barn to get a better look at the tub. It was just as old as we were.
    â€œThis will do just fine,” Pole said as I pulled the tub under the pecan tree.
    â€œLet’s leave it here under the shade until it’s full,” my sassy friend instructed me.
    At the edge of Ma’s garden, we looked at all the flowers. All morning long, we picked roses and all the sneezeweeds we could find around the yard.
    â€œWhat about the lilies?” Pole said.
    â€œThat’s a good idea.”
    â€œMr. Bro. Wiley deserves pretty flowers,” Pole said.
    We walked in the fields. We went up and down Low Meadows Lane. Then we ran up to Stony Hill and picked grady sages and a few of Miss Lottie Pearl’s roses.
    â€œGet as many as you want,” Pole’s mama yelled from the kitchen window. She had stayed home too so she could finish her cooking.
    â€œBean, I think we should go down to the riverbank to pick some flowers.”
    Together we walked down to the place that Mr. Bro. Wiley loved the most.
    â€œGive me my roses while I can still smell them,” Pole said.
    â€œThat is sho’ what Mr. Bro. Wiley told us.”
    Pole’s eyes were not smiling as she picked a few roses that were growing at the steps of Mr. Bro. Wiley’s house. “I’m gonna miss coming down here.”
    â€œWe can still come, Pole. Mr. Bro. Wiley would want us to look out for his home place.”
    â€œIt won’t be the same without him with us,” Pole said. I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and wiped tears off her face. Then I picked a big red rose and gave it to her.
    â€œFor you.”
    Pole’s big brown eyes that seemed to come straight from her daddy’s head were bright again. Right then I had a soft spot for Pole that I’d never felt before. I placed roses behind her ear. She was doing some giggling. With our arms filled with flowers, we went home feeling a little better.
    â€œGood job, children,” Ma said, watching Pole fill the tub with flowers from every end of the Low Meadows. I was busy bringing water to keep the flowers fresh.
    â€œThe menfolk in the field. How we gonna get the flowers to Miss Ada Bea?” Pole asked Ma.
    No sooner had the words left Pole’s mouth; TJ drove up in one of Mr. Gordon’s three trucks.
    â€œMornin’ to y’all,” he said, taking off his hat like Mr. Gordon taught him to do in front of womenfolk.
    â€œMornin’, TJ, what can I do for you?”
    â€œMr. Gordon sent me. He thought he would save Stanbury a trip to town by having me pick up the