"It's just not like a lady to smoke!" Mother called as I lit up. I wasn't about to argue with her, she had her fight on. I just sat on the porch and waited for the shipment to arrive.
I shifted my thin skirt, knocking the ash off my rolled cigarette. Mother was busy at the hearth, cooking up what measly stew she could. The Depression had hit Virginia hard, but it hadn't changed our lives terribly.
We were poor to begin with, my father (God rest his soul) had raised this hovel back during the turn of the century, when people still had alcohol and money. He had died shortly after, or so mother said. If you asked my older brother, Jerry, he would have said that Father was still out there, somewhere. He had served in the Great War, but never returned. Jerry insists he was shanghaied into the French Foreign Legion. I told him dead was dead, French Foreign Legion or not.
Jerry wouldn't be home for another half an hour, which wasn't bad. He had managed to get a job working for some man in the town. He made some money, and always gave Mother and I a little bit to live on. The man had come by a couple times, on Jerry's insistence. He was a handsome man, with a nice tailcoat and expensive shoes. I don't think he was all that impressed with our living arrangements. I mean, coming from the big city and all.
I stubbed my cigarette out and reclined in the rocking chair, slowly swaying back and forth. The Bondurant brothers were running late today. Of course, the moonshine business wasn't exactly lucrative; I had to give them that. All the alcohol had dried up when Congress passed that act back in 1920, and now 12 years later it seemed like they'd never repeal it. Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad, the Bondurant boys had to be making a killing off it.
Mother had developed a taste for the Bondurant's brand right after the law passed. I suspected she drank too much, as did Jerry. Of course, though, Jerry drank like a sailor. I was probably the only one that managed to resist the bottle for the week, and on the weekends in moderation.
"Blanche Josephine Dixon. You put on a heavier shirt or you're like to catch a cold. I ain't payin' for no cold." Mother fussed from the big pot inside. I stood up and walked inside, the floor creaking with each step. My small room was above the rest, split in half with Jerry. Apparently Father thought it was completely fine for two grown adults to live in the same space. I, on the other hand, did not. But the measly sheet I had separating our sides was good enough. I climbed the ladder and ducked over to Jerry's side, and grabbed one of his flannels. Jerry had about fifty pounds of muscle on me, and it showed when I put the shirt on.
I scuttled back down and resumed my post on the front porch. These boys were as late as could be. Mother brought me out a little tin bowl of stew and looked apologetic.
"We have to give Jerry the meat. He makes the money." She said, letting go of the bowl and backing away.
"I know." I looked at the five vegetables dotting my shallow broth. "Mother, I've told you. I could hunt. You know I've got a good eye." I sloshed the stew around, "I can't live off of vegetables alone, mother."
She shrugged again, and I lifted the stew to my mouth. I sipped on it, and pinched the vegetables one by one, hoping that they'd somehow last longer than I knew they were going to. When that was gone, I pulled my papers and tobacco out, rolled myself a new cigarette, and lit. Mother coughed from inside, but I didn't listen before, and I wasn't about to listen now.
The rattling of a motor made it's way up our driveway, and I saw, distinctly, Howard Bondurant waving his ugly hat from on top of the car. Jack was behind the wheel, as usual, and Forrest was riding in the other seat.
I waved back at Howard, and stood. I stretched out, and then walked to the car.
"Boys." I nodded, handing Howard some money.
"As usual Blanche, such a talker." Howard chuckled, and handed me a crate of his finest apple moonshine.
"Smart man knows when to keep his mouth shut, smart woman knows when to open hers." I huffed. The alcohol was heavier than I thought it would be, and I kind of stumbled away from the car, almost falling.
Forrest jumped out and grabbed the crate, giving Howard a look that could kill. He grunted and walked with me to the door. I pointed him to the corner, and when he turned to put the crate down, I poured him and his brothers some stew. Jerry didn't need meat, just like I didn't. The Bondurant boys would appreciate it more.
The mugs I used were hot, so I handed Forrest his and then walked the other two back outside.
"Man, oh man, thank you much, Miss Dixon. It's starting to get a little chilly." Jack started, smiling at me. Howard smacked him on the back of the head to make him drive, and then they left.
I watched their car disappear into the distance, watched the dust swirl out behind it. The Bondurant Brothers were a nice enough family; it was just them three, living at their bar. I was getting to be an old maid, and mother nagged at me constantly about marriage or boys. As I watched their dust settle, I thought about a life in the moonshining business.
Chuckling, I turned on my heel and walked inside. Whatever puts food on the table is fine. Whatever puts food on the table is fine.