Free The Waltons 1 by Robert Weverka Page A

pointed out.
    “That’s right, and generally I’m the first one to oblige ’em. But John-Boy and me, we got work to do this afternoon. Ain’t that right, John-Boy?”
    “That’s right, Grandpa.” John-Boy glanced at his mother and held his breath.
    “What do you mean, you’re goin’ to work?”
    John-Boy started to speak, not certain what was going to come out of his mouth. But his father quickly winked and came to the rescue. “John-Boy’s got a job, Livvy. He’s gotta pick up some things at Ike Godsey’s and make a delivery. I told John-Boy he could use the truck so long as Grandpa went with him.”
    The statements were true, but they didn’t exactly give an accurate picture of the situation. Grandpa glanced slyly at John-Boy and took a huge bite of sandwich. Olivia looked at both of them, and over at her husband, then turned back to the sink. She appeared a little suspicious, but she didn’t pursue the matter.

V
    C ousin Homer Lee was seated in a rocking chair with a tall glass in his hand when John-Boy and Grandpa pulled up to the Baldwin house. John-Boy waved to him and carefully backed the truck up to the garage.
    “Who’s that?” Grandpa asked suspiciously.
    “Cousin Homer Lee Baldwin from Buckin’ham County.”
    “Hmmph! Looks like one o’ them tent-show actors.”
    Cousin Homer Lee had removed his coat, revealing white suspenders with gold clasps, but he still wore his string tie. “Ahhh.” He smiled as he brought his drink over to the truck. “Good mornin’, John-Boy. The good Lord has blessed us with a fine day, hasn’t he.”
    “Good afternoon,” Grandpa said pointedly.
    “And to you, sir. And whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of addressin’?”
    “Zebulon Walton of Walton’s Mountain, Virginia, sir.”
    It was clear that Grandpa intended to take no guff from Cousin Homer Lee. The two men regarded each other with smiling hostility for a minute and then turned their attention to the Baldwin sisters. The two ladies came smiling out of the Recipe room, wiping their hands on aprons.
    “Why now, isn’t this a treat!” Miss Emily bubbled. “How nice of you, John-Boy, to bring your grandpa!”
    “I declare, nobody ever appreciated the Recipe more than Mr. Walton. How nice to see you!”
    Grandpa removed a nonexistent hat and bowed. “The pleasure, ladies, is all mine.”
    “Do come in out of the hot sun, won’t you all? We’ve just been mixin’ up some more of Papa’s Recipe. Perhaps you’d join us in a sip, Mr. Walton?”
    “Indeed, yes, ladies.”
    “And Cousin Homer Lee, I’m sure you’ll be sociable with us and have a drop more?”
    “A small drop, perhaps, yes.”
    Miss Emily rested a hand on Grandpa’s arm and they all moved toward the Recipe room. “Cousin Homer Lee’s been restin’ on the porch this mornin’. You see, he’s been just exhausted by his travels.”
    “Miss Mamie?” John-Boy asked. “Where do you want me to put this sugar?”
    “Just bring it into the supply room, John-Boy.”
    The others disappeared inside and John-Boy moved the fifty-pound sacks to the rear of the truck, then carried each of them to the supply room and stacked them in a corner. When the task was completed he went to the Recipe room and waited unobtrusively by the door.
    John-Boy had never before been in the room while the ladies were brewing Recipe. The heat and the strong odors surprised him. The big cauldron now gurgled and bubbled over an intensely hot charcoal fire. Next to it, endless coils of copper tubing were thick with condensation, and a clear liquid dripped slowly into shallow pans. The sweet-sour aroma made breathing difficult.
    “You’ve done it again,” Cousin Homer Lee was saying. He held his glass high, turning it in the light. “An ambrosial nectar of extraordinary quality, ladies.”
    Grandpa smacked his lips. “Very good, ladies. I’d say the finest you’ve ever made.”
    “Oh, it’s such a joy to hear menfolks’ voices around the place