Free Maud's Line by Margaret Verble Page A

the back of the stage, up the side of the dance patch, and into the light again. Billy didn’t ask Maud to dance, but a couple of other boys did. She turned them down, watched Lovely dancing with Gilda through two songs, and then she and Billy walked down Lee Street into the dark. They made a stop at the back end of a car. Then they sat on the front steps of a lawyer’s office, drank choc beer, and smoked cigarettes. Eventually, they fell to necking as, even to Maud, that seemed to be the only thing left to do.
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    She awoke the next morning thinking about Booker in jail. Her father had spent many a night with the sheriff and was, in her estimation, safer behind bars than out. So while still on her cot, she convinced herself that a night on a feather mattress probably hadn’t produced any hardship on Booker beyond humiliation and that the danger to him would pass for lack of evidence. Booker’s being guilty didn’t even cross Maud’s mind.
    When she finally got up and let the chickens out, they scattered like shot from a barrel. She pumped water, went back in, lit the fire, and started making biscuits. Her father was still snoring. Lovely came in the kitchen door from his time outside. He slid between the wall and the table and said, “How’d you get home?”
    â€œWith Aunt Nan and Uncle Ryde.”
    â€œWhere’d you go?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, you disappeared. You were dancing and never came back.”
    Maud turned from the cabinet, flour on her hands. “I did come back. I watched you and Gilda for quite a while. Make any progress?”
    Lovely looked to the other room and then back to Maud. “I think I did.”
    She turned back to the counter and took up her rolling pin, thinking Lovely would keep talking. But he didn’t. So, finally, while cutting biscuits, Maud’s curiosity overtook her, and she said, “What makes you think you made progress?”
    â€œShe danced with me all night. Even when Charles Howell headed to cut in, she waved him off.”
    â€œI thought she dated Charles in school?”
    â€œShe did.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘What else?’”
    Maud was cutting the dough quite deliberately. She twisted with added pressure. “This is like pulling teeth. What else makes you think you made progress?”
    Blood came up into Lovely’s ears. “Not what you think.”
    â€œHow do you know what I think?”
    Lovely looked to the other room again. Then he said, “Are you gonna take forever with the biscuits?”
    â€œYou may not get any biscuits unless I get some details.”
    â€œA decent man doesn’t tell.”
    Maud looked around at Lovely, widening her eyes for effect. She slipped the biscuit pan into the oven and then sat down at the table. She looked to the main room, confirmed that her daddy was still asleep, and said in a whisper, “You didn’t . . . ?”
    â€œI did not.” Lovely acted indignant.
    â€œDon’t pretend.”
    â€œI’m not pretending. We didn’t.”
    â€œI didn’t think you did. But don’t pretend you didn’t want to.”
    â€œI’m not pretending anything.” Lovely spread his hands.
    â€œThen what was ‘A decent man doesn’t tell’ all about?”
    â€œI was just piquing your interest. I know how you like to run your imagination.”
    â€œI do not!”
    â€œThen why are you asking?”
    â€œThat’s half the fun of a dance. Talking about it later.”
    Lovely shook his head and swatted the air like he was going after a fly. He looked once again toward his father’s bed and then leaned into the table. “The thing is, Gilda’s a Christian. She won’t do anything but kiss.”
    Maud straightened her back and looked at Lovely with a wrinkle between her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with not being