Free Clay's Quilt by Silas House

sister—”
    â€œI know that. Do you know her?”
    â€œMet her tonight, before we opened. Real sweet, from what I seen of her. Why, you wanting to meet her?” She laughed before he could answer. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    Clay was unaware of anyone else at his table as he watched Roe deliver the beer and then go over to where Alma sat. He couldn’t see her table from where he was, but he knew she was over there.
    Geneva dipped a napkin into a glass of water and squeezed it so that streams ran down into her blouse, then wiped the sweat off her brow. “Anybody bout to pee?” she asked, looking around at the girls crowding the table. “I danced so hard it’s a thousand wonders it didn’t run right down my leg.”
    All the women left the table, and Goody and Cake scooted across the chairs until they sat next to Clay.
    â€œWhat’d you all think about that fiddler?” Clay asked. “She was a doll, I thought.”
    â€œShe could play that fiddle, but she wasn’t all that to look at,” Cake said.
    â€œShe looked good to me,” Goody said in his slow, careful drawl. “Had a nice little ass on her.”
    Cake cackled loudly and swatted Goody on the back. His heavy hand cracked against Goody’s leather jacket like a man’s face being slapped.
    Roe appeared at Clay’s shoulder, breathing as if she had just climbed the mountain up to the Hilltop. “She won’t come over to your table. Said if you want to talk to her, you’d have to come over there.”
    Clay nodded and took the shot of bourbon that Cake had offered him ten minutes before.
    Roe grabbed his arm roughly and set her face close to his. “Now go over there, Clay Sizemore. Talk to her. No use in being lonesome.”
    â€œI will, soon’s I get me a sup of beer.” He grabbed Goody’s ice-cold Miller and drank half of it straight down.
    Alma was sitting at a small, round table pushed up against the stage. Evangeline sat with her, smoking a long cigarette and waving it around in the air as she talked. Alma listened intently without an expression on her face. Before he could reach the table, Evangeline threw her head back in wild laughter.
    â€œHey, Evangeline,” Clay said, and both women looked up as if startled by his sudden presence. Evangeline studied Clay for a long second. She was half-drunk and had snorted so much coke that she might as well have worn the powder on her nose.
    â€œWell, hidy, Clay. I bout didn’t know you. What’re you up to?”
    â€œI come over to talk to your little sister, here.”
    â€œWell, hell, there she sets, son,” Evangeline said, and roared with laughter again. “Talk away. You don’t need my permission.”
    â€œHidy,” Alma said, and nodded.
    â€œThis here is Clay Sizemore,” Evangeline said dramatically.
    Evangeline gathered up her cup and cigarettes and pushed her chair back so hard that it fell backward. She laughed loudly,looking at the chair as if it had fallen from the sky. “Hey, you all want to hear anything special?” she asked.
    â€œI’d like to hear a good two-step,” Clay answered.
    â€œYou got it, then,” Evangeline said, winking, and walked away.
    Clay looked at Alma. “You know we met before, don’t you? At Dreama Sizemore’s wedding? Well, she’s a Spurlock now. Dreama that married Darry Spurlock.”
    Alma squinted her eyes at him, as if she could not see him clearly. “That is right. You tried to pay me.”
    The band began playing the first strains of “Heart Full of Love.” A huge speaker hung over their table, so Clay had to lean forward and yell out, “Well, you want to dance this one with me?”
    â€œI ain’t much of a dancer,” she screamed.
    â€œI don’t care. Come on. I love this song.”
    He put his hand out, and she hesitated before giving hers to him. He