Earthly Possessions - Anne Tyler [48]
“Do?”
“Do for a living, Charlotte. Where’s your mind at?”
“Oh. He’s a … well, he’s a preacher,” I said.
Jake whistled.
“You’re putting me on,” he told me.
“No.”
Mindy wandered back to us, trailing strands of flowers. “They’re gone now,” she said. But Jake only looked at her blankly, as if wondering what it was that was supposed to have gone.
Along about noontime, we passed a billboard showing a clump of plastic oranges, welcoming us to Florida. “Whoopee!” Mindy said. “Now, how much further?”
“Forever,” Jake told her. “Ain’t you ever seen a U.S. map? We are driving down its great old long big toe.”
“But I’m tired of riding. Can’t we stop at a motel or something? Miss Bohannon says long drives aren’t good for us.”
“Who’s Miss Bohannon?”
“She’s a nurse, she teaches Child Care.”
Jake frowned and speeded up. “Well, another thing,” he said. “I don’t understand why they have this Child Care business.”
“To tell how to care for a child, silly.”
“Seems kind of pointless, if you ask me,” Jake said. “You know most of them girls will just put their kids out for adoption.”
“Sure, but they’re not the ones that take the course,” said Mindy. “They take Good Grooming.”
“Ah,” Jake said. He drove along a while. Some thought worked through his forehead. He took his foot off the gas pedal. “Wait,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Are you telling me you’re going to keep this kid?”
“Well, naturally.”
“Now, listen. I don’t think that’s such a very good idea.”
“Why … Jake? You’re not saying we should just …”
“We?”
Mindy turned and looked at me. I stared hard at a passing Shell station.
“What you getting at, Mindy?” Jake asked. “Are you trying to plan on us marrying, or something?”
“Of course I plan on it,” Mindy said. “Otherwise what did you drive all this way for? You must have cared a little bit, to come so far.”
“Well, I’m only human,” said Jake. “I mean, even when they hijack a plane, they let the kids go free. Even when they’re fighting for lifeboats, they put the kids in first.”
“Lifeboats? What? What’re you talking about?”
“I come to get a baby out of prison,” Jake said. “Ha! Some prison. Seems you told me a bald-faced lie.”
“It wasn’t a lie! How can you say that? Now listen here, Jake Simms,” Mindy said. “You’re not backing out of this. You come all this way, take me out of the Home, transport me to another state—and now you’re going to change your mind? No sir. We’re going to get married and have a little baby, and the prettiest home you ever heard of.”
“Not ever in a million, billion years,” said Jake.
“Why, we could stay right here in Florida, if you like. Get a little place near Oliver, wouldn’t that be nice? Really the climate would be better for the children,” she said, turning to me. “I mean, they won’t get so many colds and all, we won’t have to buy all those snowsuits. It’s cheaper. And I’ve always been a warm-weather person. I’ll make the house real summery, lots of bright colors, straw chairs, those ruffly white curtains with the tie-backs, you know the kind, what do you call them?”
“Priscillas,” I said.
“Priscillas. That’s what we’ll have. Priscillas. Everywhere but the living room; I think there we’ll have fiberglass drapes of some type. Gold, you know, or maybe avocado. Which would you rather, Jake. Gold?”
Jake stared straight ahead of him.
“Avocado?”
The scenery slid past us: used boat lots, real estate offices, praline shops. Everything looked untidy. If this was Florida I didn’t like it at all. I didn’t even like the way the sun shone here, so flat and white, burdening the tinny roofs of the roadside stands.
“Jake, I got this cramp again,” Mindy said in a small voice.
Jake didn’t so much as change expression. He just pulled over and stopped the car. From beneath the back seat, the cat gave a yowl. Jake got out and the two of us slid after him. We were on the edge of a shambling little town called Pariesto, according to the signs. Mindy had nowhere to walk but the littered gravel at the side of the road—white-hot, mica-laden, dazzling to the eyes. She stalked off anyway, very fast, with her hands joined