Free Miss Julia Hits the Road by Ann B. Ross Page A

one way,” Little Lloyd said. “The young people’s group at church can have a car wash. We raised fifty dollars the last time we had one.”
    “Oh, honey,” Hazel Marie said, “that’s a wonderful idea. Everybody needs to pitch in, and a car wash would be just the thing to get a fund started.”
    I smiled at Little Lloyd, gratified that he wanted to help, but I knew fifty dollars wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket.
    “Lillian,” I said. “We ought to call your daughters and let them know what’s going on. They’ll be worried if they can’t get you on the phone.” I stopped and thought for a minute. “They may well want you to come live with them.” Although that was the last thing I wanted her to do, and I don’t think it was for purely selfish reasons. I’d miss her something awful if she went to live up North.
    “Yessum, I call ’em tomorrow an’ tell ’em. But I can’t live up in that cold country, an’ anyway they got all they can do to take care of they chil’ren an’ they ownselves.”
    Then she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She pulled the blanket back up around her shoulders, and I got worried about her all over again.
    “Are you cold?” I asked.
    “Yessum, I guess I am,” she said without opening her eyes. “This whole thing jus’ fly all over me again. It make me glad to move, but scared ’bout where I move to.”
    Turning to Hazel Marie, I said, “We need to get her to bed. I wish I had something to help her sleep because this is going to be running through her head all night long.”
    “I wish . . . ,” Hazel Marie started, but stopped as we heard footsteps on the front porch. “Oh, maybe that’s J. D.” She hurried to the door, her face lit with expectancy.
    Well, yes, it was, and he came in, windblown and frowning with concern. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said to Hazel Marie, with what I thought was a little hesitancy, as if he weren’t sure if she was still his sweetheart or not. He reached out a hand to her, but she stepped back from him.
    “J. D.,” Hazel Marie said—in a somewhat stand-offish tone, I thought, in spite of her earlier eagerness to welcome him in. “We’re so glad you’re here. Lillian needs your help.”
    “Miss Julia,” he said, casting a worried glance at me with those black eyes of his and nodding as he walked over to Lillian. Lord, I couldn’t help but look at him with narrowed eyes. All those women, I thought to myself, and he doesn’t look a bit different.
    Mr. Pickens brushed Little Lloyd’s shoulder with his hand as he went past him. “Miss Lillian,” he said, kneeling by her chair and taking her hand in his. “I’m so sorry to hear about your trouble, but you know what they say.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Everybody ought to move about every five years, just to clear out the junk.”
    I frowned and opened my mouth to rebuke him, since she didn’t need to hear such nonsense at a time like this. But I restrained myself as Lillian smiled at him and patted his hand.
    Then, just as unexpectedly, she covered her eyes with her hand and moaned, “Oh, Jesus, what I done to deserve this?”
    “Not one thing, Lillian,” I said. “It’s all Clarence Gibbs’s fault, which he is certainly going to hear about from me and everybody else in town. Now, Mr. Pickens, we think she needs to be in bed, if you’ll excuse us.”
    “Sure thing,” he said, getting to his feet, “but she needs a little something else first. Don’t want her lying awake all night worrying herself to death.”
    “That’s what we were just saying,” Hazel Marie said. “Did you . . . ?”
    “I did,” Mr. Pickens said, and drew a small flat bottle of brownish liquid from the pocket of his coat. “Now, Miss Julia, before you get on your high horse, this is for medicinal purposes only, and I happen to know that the Bible recommends it.”
    I opened my mouth again to refute him but, on second thought, decided against it since I was well