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Authors: Robert Weverka

The Waltons 1 (8 page)

BOOK: The Waltons 1
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Jenny’s new stepmother was seated on the sofa, a cup and saucer in her hand. She was a pleasant-looking woman, in her early forties, John-Boy guessed. By the standards of Walton’s Mountain she was dressed elegantly—more like women in the city—in a gray suit and white blouse and silk stockings. Her hair was slightly reddish and she smiled warmly at each of the Waltons as they were introduced. At the end her eyes went back to Jenny and the smile softened.

Dave Pendleton stood by the fireplace, also wearing a suit. He was a prosperous-looking man and there seemed to be great love in his eyes as he gazed at his daughter.

“And this young lady,” John finally laughed, referring to Jenny, “I reckon you’re already acquainted with her.”

Jenny had stopped just inside the room, tense, as if ready for the worst. “You pretty mad with me, Dad?”

Dave Pendleton slowly shook his head, his smile leaving no doubt about his feelings. “Jenny, you’re too old to spank and too young to send to jail. What am I going to do with you?”

Jenny looked like she was going to burst into happy tears. “You could give me a kiss,” she said, and hurried across to his suddenly outstretched arms.

John-Boy felt a little relieved as they hugged each other. No matter how bad things might have been for Jenny, it looked like she and her father loved each other very much. Mrs. Pendleton was also smiling happily, and Jenny kissed her cheek with what looked like genuine affection.

“Sorry I worried you, Eula, I really am.”

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart. We’re just happy to see you’re in such good hands.”

“Well,” Dave Pendleton said, “I think it was more our fault than it was yours, Jenny. We just got so busy preparing for the wedding and everything, I guess you got the feeling we didn’t even know you were around. But we’re gonna make up for that.”

Jenny sat down next to Eula. “I really thought your honeymoon would be more fun without me hanging around.”

John laughed out loud and Olivia flushed. “Have you all eaten?” she asked quickly. “We can easily set two more places at the table.”

“No, no, we don’t want to intrude on you, Livvy, thanks. Eula and I ate along the way. We just wanted to pick up this scalawag here.”

Eula Pendleton put her empty cup on the table and picked up her purse. “Yes, but thank you for the offer.” She rose, but Jenny made no move to get up.

“Daddy? The Waltons said I could stay with them for a while.”

The statement caught both the Pendletons by surprise. Dave stared at Jenny, then at John and Olivia.

“That’s right, Dave,” John nodded. “Why don’t you let her stay a few days. We were just gettin’ acquainted.”

“We’d be real glad to have her,” Olivia smiled.

John-Boy’s hopes rose cautiously as Dave seemed to consider the idea.

“What this little girls deserves,” he said, “is a trip across my knee.” He gave Jenny a stern look and then suddenly grinned. “But seein’ she’s mine and spoiled rotten to boot, Eula and I have decided to open up the old place and stay on for a while.”

It was as if a spring had suddenly been released inside everyone in the room. Even Grandma cheered as Jenny leaped to her feet and gave her father another kiss. John-Boy felt like the teetering world had suddenly righted itself again.

“Oh, Dad, thank you,” Jenny was crying. “And you too, Eula. You’re the nicest parents anybody could have.”

“Okay.” Dave laughed. “Enough of this nonsense. Let’s go take a look at that old barn.”

Jenny turned happily to Olivia. “I’ll come over first thing in the morning, Mrs. Walton. You just leave the breakfast dishes. And Grandma, I’ll hold you to your promise to teach me how to crochet. And I want to help with the polliwogs, Mary Ellen. And—”

“And, and, and.” Dave Pendleton laughed. “If you’re gonna be up to so much tomorrow, we’d better get started with all that dust in our own house.” He put an arm around Jenny. “John, Livvy, I sure appreciate your lookin’ after my little girl.”

“We enjoyed havin’ her, Dave.”

“And she did far more than her share of work around here.”

John-Boy opened the door for them. Jenny gave him a happy, triumphant smile, and John-Boy walked out with her after the others said good-bye.

“Don’t forget your promise to take me to the mountain tomorrow, John-Boy.”

“I won’t forget. In fact, if it’s all right, maybe I can come over to your house tonight.”

“Could you? I’m sure Dad and Eula would be delighted.”

Dave Pendleton was holding the car door open. “Come on, Jenny.”

“I have some work to do this afternoon,” John-Boy said quickly. “Maybe I can make it after supper.”

“Please try,” she said and hurried to the car.

“Good-bye, John-Boy,” Mr. Pendleton called. “And thanks again.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Pendleton.”

John-Boy shoved his hands into his pockets and watched as the car made a U-turn and started down the road. In a way he was glad Jenny wasn’t going to live with them. Now he wouldn’t have to share her with the rest of the family. He quickly pulled out a hand and waved as Jenny smiled at him through the back window.

In the kitchen Olivia and Grandma were putting out bread and pickles and milk. Grandpa was already slicing into a ham, making a sandwich.

“Seems like a real nice girl,” he remarked. “A good-looker, too. That Dave Pendleton always did know how to pick ’em.” He glanced at Grandma’s scowl and quickly added, “Yes sir, that Dave Pendleton’s almost as good as I am at pickin’ pretty girls.”

“Hmmph,” Grandma responded and headed for the cupboard to get plates. “I surely do wish I had as good a taste as you did, old man.”

It took a minute for the remark to sink in, then everyone laughed and looked at Grandpa. He shook his head.

“I’m not goin’ to answer that, old lady, you’re too quick-tongued for me. Here, John-Boy, have yourself a sandwich.”

“Ladies are generally served first,” Erin pointed out.

“That’s right, and generally I’m the first one to oblige ’em. But John-Boy and me, we got work to do this afternoon. Ain’t that right, John-Boy?”

“That’s right, Grandpa.” John-Boy glanced at his mother and held his breath.

“What do you mean, you’re goin’ to work?”

John-Boy started to speak, not certain what was going to come out of his mouth. But his father quickly winked and came to the rescue. “John-Boy’s got a job, Livvy. He’s gotta pick up some things at Ike Godsey’s and make a delivery. I told John-Boy he could use the truck so long as Grandpa went with him.”

The statements were true, but they didn’t exactly give an accurate picture of the situation. Grandpa glanced slyly at John-Boy and took a huge bite of sandwich. Olivia looked at both of them, and over at her husband, then turned back to the sink. She appeared a little suspicious, but she didn’t pursue the matter.

V

C
ousin Homer Lee was seated in a rocking chair with a tall glass in his hand when John-Boy and Grandpa pulled up to the Baldwin house. John-Boy waved to him and carefully backed the truck up to the garage.

“Who’s that?” Grandpa asked suspiciously.

“Cousin Homer Lee Baldwin from Buckin’ham County.”

“Hmmph! Looks like one o’ them tent-show actors.”

Cousin Homer Lee had removed his coat, revealing white suspenders with gold clasps, but he still wore his string tie. “Ahhh.” He smiled as he brought his drink over to the truck. “Good mornin’, John-Boy. The good Lord has blessed us with a fine day, hasn’t he.”

“Good
afternoon,”
Grandpa said pointedly.

“And to you, sir. And whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of addressin’?”

“Zebulon Walton of Walton’s Mountain, Virginia, sir.”

It was clear that Grandpa intended to take no guff from Cousin Homer Lee. The two men regarded each other with smiling hostility for a minute and then turned their attention to the Baldwin sisters. The two ladies came smiling out of the Recipe room, wiping their hands on aprons.

“Why now, isn’t this a treat!” Miss Emily bubbled. “How nice of you, John-Boy, to bring your grandpa!”

“I declare, nobody ever appreciated the Recipe more than Mr. Walton. How nice to see you!”

Grandpa removed a nonexistent hat and bowed. “The pleasure, ladies, is all mine.”

“Do come in out of the hot sun, won’t you all? We’ve just been mixin’ up some more of Papa’s Recipe. Perhaps you’d join us in a sip, Mr. Walton?”

“Indeed, yes, ladies.”

“And Cousin Homer Lee, I’m sure you’ll be sociable with us and have a drop more?”

“A small drop, perhaps, yes.”

Miss Emily rested a hand on Grandpa’s arm and they all moved toward the Recipe room. “Cousin Homer Lee’s been restin’ on the porch this mornin’. You see, he’s been just exhausted by his travels.”

“Miss Mamie?” John-Boy asked. “Where do you want me to put this sugar?”

“Just bring it into the supply room, John-Boy.”

The others disappeared inside and John-Boy moved the fifty-pound sacks to the rear of the truck, then carried each of them to the supply room and stacked them in a corner. When the task was completed he went to the Recipe room and waited unobtrusively by the door.

John-Boy had never before been in the room while the ladies were brewing Recipe. The heat and the strong odors surprised him. The big cauldron now gurgled and bubbled over an intensely hot charcoal fire. Next to it, endless coils of copper tubing were thick with condensation, and a clear liquid dripped slowly into shallow pans. The sweet-sour aroma made breathing difficult.

“You’ve done it again,” Cousin Homer Lee was saying. He held his glass high, turning it in the light. “An ambrosial nectar of extraordinary quality, ladies.”

Grandpa smacked his lips. “Very good, ladies. I’d say the finest you’ve ever made.”

“Oh, it’s such a joy to hear menfolks’ voices around the place again, isn’t it, Mamie. Mr. Walton, you haven’t paid us a visit in just ages.”

“And isn’t it nice that Mr. Walton could meet Cousin Homer Lee,” Miss Mamie chimed.

The ladies sipped their Recipe from teacups, their little fingers delicately extended. Grandpa took another drink and eyed Homer Lee.

“I take it you are a businessman, sir?”

“Oh, Cousin Homer Lee is a self-made man,” Miss Emily answered. “Left Buckin’ham County with nothin’ but the clothes on his back, and look at him now!”

“Yes, yes,” Cousin Homer Lee added. “Among other things I have dabbled in the field of commerce. Buy low, sell high, that’s the secret.”

“What is it you buy and sell?” Grandpa asked.

“Goods, commodities, items of commercial value. And what, if I may ask, is your line of endeavor, Mr. Walton?”

Grandpa looked puzzled for a minute, but quickly recovered. “Timber,” he said, and seemed pleased with the answer.

“Isn’t that wonderful,” Miss Emily sighed. “To have two important men of commerce and business in our home at the same time. I declare, Mamie, it’s just like when Papa was alive, isn’t it!”

Miss Mamie picked up a jar of the Recipe. “Shall we retire to the parlor where we can all be more comfortable?”

John-Boy spent the rest of the afternoon dusting off old pictures and bringing them down from the attic. When all the relatives came for the reunion, Miss Mamie wanted pictures of every family member hanging from the walls. In the parlor voices grew louder and the bursts of laughter more frequent. Cousin Homer Lee, it seemed, was telling about his travels to exotic places like San Francisco and Hollywood and Boston, Massachusetts. Then everybody was clapping hands and singing “Blow the Man Down” while Grandpa did an Irish jig.

It was almost dark when John-Boy got all the pictures down and ready for hanging. The mason jar, he noticed, was now empty and another had been brought in from the Recipe room.

“Grandpa, I think we should be headin’ on home.”

“Home? Why it’s only the shank of the evenin’, John-Boy.”

Cousin Homer pulled a railroad watch from his pocket. “Good Lord, ladies, look at the hour. How time flies in agreeable company. But we’d better hurry along ourselves.”

“Oh, dear,” Miss Emily gasped, “I plumb forgot all about Cousin Homer takin’ us to the movies tonight.”

Miss Mamie was smiling giddily, pouring more Recipe into her teacup. “Another time, Homer Lee. We can go another time. We’re havin’ such joy here.”

“Now, now, you’re not goin’ to back out this time, Cousin Mamie.” Cousin Homer tapped Grandpa on the knee. “Zeb, do you know the last time these ladies saw a picture show?”

“Don’t think I do.”

Miss Mamie gazed dreamily at the ceiling. “It was when Papa took us to see Mr. Chaplin in
The Gold Rush.
I can remember it like it was just yesterday.”

“Grandpa?” John-Boy said, but no one heard him.

“Papa just loved the part where Charlie ate the shoe!” Miss Emily exclaimed.

“There you are,” Cousin Homer said. “Why, that was from the silent days. I’ll wager you’ve never seen one of the new talkin’ pictures.”

“We thought the silents were just fine, Cousin Homer.”

“But you mustn’t judge until you’ve heard the talkies. And we’d better get started so we don’t come in at the middle.”

Grandpa struggled to his feet. “John-Boy, we’d better be gettin’ along too. Ladies, it’s been a grand evenin’.”

The sisters went for their coats. “Do come again, Mr. Walton. Some time when Cousin Homer isn’t rushin’ us off somewhere.”

“Thank you, I will do that.”

“John-Boy,” Miss Emily smiled, “would you be so kind as to offer me your arm?”

Cousin Homer led the way to the garage while Grandpa and John-Boy escorted the ladies on their arms.

“I do wish you and John-Boy were comin’ along,” Miss Mamie said. “Wouldn’t that be jolly, sister?”

“Yes. And we must all remember to keep an eye open for Ashley Longworth.” Miss Emily squeezed John-Boy’s arm and smiled. “Ashley was the young gentleman who came courtin’ some years ago.”

“I’m sure he was a real nice man, Miss Emily.”

“Just as handsome as you can imagine, John-Boy.”

“Well, toodle-oo, you-all,” Miss Mamie waved, and settled herself in the car.

Miss Emily slipped two dollars into John-Boy’s hand and took her place in the back seat beside her sister. They both waved, and Grandpa and John-Boy backed away to watch the departure.

BOOK: The Waltons 1
2.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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