Handing the mirror back, Billie rolled down her own ankle socks. Dessie had blonde hair, blonde arm and leg hairs. Billie thought Dessie didn’t even need to shave her legs. Her own legs had black hairs, each one thicker, more obvious. No matter what Rose said, these legs of hers would have to get shaved. That way Lux and Alan Ray would have one less thing to tease her about.
“OK, I’ll tell you what made me say it. Lux is always picking on me,” Billie said.
“Are you ticked about last night on the porch?” Dessie was smiling like she thought it was funny. Dessie’s bottom teeth were crooked, actually the two center ones overlapped. Experts from Seventeen would agree that Dessie’s best smile would be with her lips closed. But Dessie’s lips kept on moving. “Oh, he’s just ornery. If he devils you, it means he likes you,” Dessie’s lips were saying. Her head tilted as if it might be a concept a younger sister could not fathom. “Guys want to get close to girls, but they don’t know what to do when they get around them.”
Lux? Not know what to do? How could Dessie say that about the best pitcher, maybe in the history of Fairchance High, or Alan Ray, who had traveled all over the country in the national guard? “Oh, sure,” Billie said. She stood up, held out her sewing project, imagined a finished apron tied around her mother’s waist. She checked the hem to see if it was even.
“I really mean it.” Dessie said. “You need to act different. Show you don’t care about them, and they’ll come over and sweet-talk you,” she said. Then Dessie lowered her voice. “If you promise not to tell Mama, I’ll show you what he does to me.” Billie nodded.
Dessie got up out of the bed, and her fingers opened the top buttons on her nightgown. Billie leaned in, stood on tiptoes to see what Dessie was talking about. A few inches below the neckline was a circular pinkish-red blotchy bruise the size of a small peach. Billie gasped. “Did he punch you or pinch you? Did it hurt?”
“No, stupid, it was fun. He did it with his mouth.” Dessie’s eyes darted back and forth, checking to see if anyone else was listening. “Don’t you dare breathe a word.” Dessie turned back, her eyes piercing into Billie’s. “Promise me. Swear you won’t.”
Billie knew about kissing, she had heard jokes about sex, but she was not sure how this fit in. This was different than other types of secrets, like faking a headache to skip school. She began thinking about how it felt kind of grown up to share a part of Dessie’s new life, like she just peeked through a doorway to a place that she would soon be able to enter.
Billie looked up at Dessie’s eyes and made her most solemn promise. “I won’t. I swear to God as He is my witness, so help me,” she answered, wondering if God heard her say this, if keeping this secret was another of God’s tests she had just failed. But Dessie did not seem to be the least bit concerned about God. She seemed more worried about Rose, and for that reason, this felt like useful information, though Billie didn’t even know why she thought that.
“Hey, Billie,” Dessie called out from the walk-in closet. “Will you look outside and tell me if you see Lux?”
Before she knew what she was doing, Billie lifted the sash of Dessie’s window and stuck out her head. Past the walk, past the dog box, midway up the grass of the yard, sat Lux’s jeep, the top down and fresh mud splattered halfway up the sides. Billie could see Alan Ray’s red hair and long white arms. He was in the driver’s seat, shirtless, wearing his army vest with a red, white, and blue bandana around his neck. The Jeep’s hood was up. Lux wore his A-1 cap and a black T-shirt. He and Bertram were standing over the engine with tools in their hands while Alan Ray was giving it more gas.
“Yeah, they’re here,” Billie said. She could hear them calling back and forth to each other over the rush and snort of the engine and the sound of Lux’s old-timey country music.
Dessie called out from the closet, “Oh, shoot, I better find something to wear. Can you be an angel and tell ’em I’ll be right down?”
DOWNSTAIRS, BESIDE the porch door, Billie halted. She had things to consider before walking over there. Was she just the messenger, the angel? without any other part in this play? What would she do when she got there, say hi? Maybe not to Lux, but to Alan Ray, who usually seemed happy to see her? She wanted to deliver the message, but something made her hang back, to stop and weigh things before she opened the screen door. Angel, devil, devil, angel. She wasn’t even sure whether to head down to the Jeep or yell out from the porch to tell them Dessie was coming.
But then it didn’t matter. Like a barefooted green flash, Dessie shot downstairs, past the kitchen, straight through the living room. Billie reached to open the door for her sister.
“One moment, Dorothy,” Rose called out, walking in from the kitchen, the smell of cornbread trailing after her. Dessie stopped and turned back. She wore a green pleated skirt, hiked up inches higher than Rose would allow, and a green-and-white print blouse with a high ruffled neck. She was carrying her shoes in her left hand, and her wet hair was gathered up with a wide stylish leather clip. Dessie looked at Billie, as if Billie should have known this would happen, as if she should have done something to distract their mother.
“Sit with me a moment, Dorothy, over here,” Rose said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and settling onto the piano bench in the living room. Billie could see Dessie’s right hand quickly unravel the waistband of her skirt so the hem hung down to the bottom of her knees; then, she sat down beside Rose and pulled her skirt down even lower over her knees, crossing her ankles below the bench. Her eyes were fixed on the outside door.
Rose smoothed her apron and sat up straight, facing her elder daughter who was already taller than she was. She took each of Dessie’s hands in each of her hands, bowed her head, closed her eyes, and said, “Dorothy, dear, let us pray. Heavenly Father, please protect my daughter this evening and bring her safely home to her family.” Rose blinked her eyes, but kept her head bowed.
“Amen,” said Dessie, her eyes cast down at the floor, and Billie said, “Amen,” out of habit more than out of conviction. From where she stood beside the doorway to the porch, Billie could hear both the gospel radio in the kitchen and the voices of the guys outside. Billie knew Dessie was ready to bolt. Rose seemed to know this too. Rose continued to clutch each of Dessie’s hands in her own trembling hands. On the wall above Rose’s silver, braided hair hung a framed print of a painting of Christ kneeling in prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. Rose said, “Father, you have blessed this home with two daughters, and I pray with all my heart that you do not see fit to take them before they can do Your work.” Rose’s eyes seemed to be about to well up with tears, and the trembling of her hands seemed to increase with each tick of the clock on the mantel. Billie wondered how long Rose would clutch at Dessie’s hands. It seemed like she was about to start crying.
“Mother,” Dessie said after she could no longer keep silent. “We’re going into town. We are going to have something to eat. Then we are going to come right back home.”
Rose sighed, her voice hushed. “May it be Your Will,” she said, and reluctantly released her hold. She peered above her glasses into her Dessie’s eyes. “Stand up now. Let’s see that skirt. You know that the Lord has given mothers eyes to follow their daughters wherever they choose to go.”
Dessie stood, swirled around, and Billie could see her tummy suck in, letting the skirt’s hem fall as low as possible. “That’s a pretty blouse,” Rose said. “Right proper.”
When she had her back to her mother and only Billie could see, Dessie rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Billie tried not to laugh. “May the heavenly Father protect us all,” Rose said. She walked Dessie onto the porch, offering her cheek for a good-bye kiss. Then, she added, “Be home before 11.”
“We will,” Dessie called, dashing down the porch stairs, not turning around.
FOR ONE last brief second, Billie wondered what would happen if she just skipped on down there, following her sister to the Jeep, and in a friendly way flat out asked them all if she could come along. But it was clear as day that she should