Free Miss Julia Meets Her Match by Ann B. Ross Page A

me.
    “Who’s that big ole boy over there, Great-Granny?” Latisha asked, surprising me again with the strength of that voice coming out of such a thin little body.
    “That there’s Little Lloyd, an’ you better not be botherin’ him,” Lillian said, looking about at the end of her tether.
    “Lloyd? I never heard of such a name before in my life,” Latisha said. “Lloydy Lloyd, he look pretty good to me.”
    Lillian frowned down at her and said, “Behave yo’self, Latisha. You know better’n that.”
    “Well, I don’t think I do, but I’ll try,” Latisha said. “I don’t think he likes me, ’cause he ain’t said a word since I been here.”
    Little Lloyd stepped forward and rectified that right away. “I do like you, Latisha, and I hope you’ll be happy here with us.”
    “Look like I’m gonna be,” she said, as somber as a judge rendering an opinion. “These folks look pretty nice to me, Great-Granny, an’ I specially like that big, ole boy name of Lloyd.”
    “Latisha,” Lillian cried. “You got to be nicer’n that. Now, come on upstairs with me. You goin’ to bed, an’ maybe you be calmed down in the mornin’.”
    “Well, I don’t think I will be, Great-Granny. This pretty much my nat’ral self right here and now.”
    Lillian grasped her arm and practically lifted the child off the floor, as she headed for the back stairs. “Girl, you got to behave yo’self better’n this. These folks won’t know what to think of you. Now, say good night.”
    “Lillian,” I said, seeing how embarrassed she was over the child’s talkativeness. “Lillian, don’t worry about Latisha. She is charming.”
    Lillian grunted and, walking the child up the stairs, said, “She a little too charmin’ to my way of thinkin’.”
    Latisha was not at all deterred. We could hear her voice chattering on and gradually fading out as they gained the top of the stairs. “I think that Miss Julia pretty charmin’, herself. An’that Miss Hazel Marie, she awful nice, bringin’ in my suitcase and drivin’ us an’ all. But I still like that big, ole boy the best. I ’spect I’m gonna be followin’ him around every where he go. He gonna think I’m his shadow, only colored in.”
    As silence descended in the kitchen, the three of us looked at each other and began to laugh.
    “That child is wide open, isn’t she?” Hazel Marie said, wiping her eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”
    “She is certainly a precocious little thing,” I said. “I think we’ve got our own built-in entertainment, but I’m not sure Lillian thinks so.”
    “She feels responsible for her,” Hazel Marie said, still smiling. “And concerned about bringing her into your house. She told me so while we were waiting for the bus.”
    “I know,” I said. “We’ll just have to assure her that we don’t mind. And I think Latisha will calm down when she gets used to us. In the meantime, I’m not at all averse to having a little comic relief around here.” Turning to Little Lloyd, I went on. “What did you think of her, Little Lloyd?”
    “She’s pretty cute,” he said. “For a girl. But I hope she won’t be following me all the time. That could get old in a hurry.”
    “Just give her time, honey,” Hazel Marie said. “I expect Lillian’ll put her in kindergarten, and that’ll take her mind off of you. I think I’m going to enjoy having her around. We need somebody to liven up the place a little.”
    And with that, my mind veered onto the Mooney woman and her claim of being one of Wesley Lloyd’s women, of which there seemed to be a growing number if the two I knew about was any indication. So, if Hazel Marie thought we needed livening up, I feared we were in for more than any of us wanted.

= Chapter 8’
    When they were all in bed and silence filled the house, I sat in the living room alone, burdened with thoughts of my blindness to Wesley Lloyd’s amorous activities. Lord, it was as if I’d never known