He drove a pick-up across the potholes and gravels of our driveway for over 30 years. And ever since I have been able to walk through the yard barefoot and say “yes!” when he says “no!” I have went outside to meet him when he pulls up. Thursday was no exception. This time I just had on shoes.
“How’d your day go?”
“Aw, it’s purdy decent. How was your day?” he asked.
“It was good. I took the little girls to their knitting class. It was good to see Myra Frances.”
He propped up against the truck. “Well, good.”
The fuel tank buzzed while the pink fluid filled the 100 gallon tank in the bed of Daddy’s Chevy. He put the nozzle away and tucked his greasy gloves back in their spot. “Let’s go check on the corn. Hang on, lemme get my lunchbox.”
I caught dry dirt between my toes and flip-flops standing between the rows. Two days before, we all came outside and the grass crunched under our feet. We circled up and prayed for rain. We got a little bit. It settled the dust.
“It could use one more good shower. But it’ll be alright, just a little small,” Daddy said as he handed me three sticky, hairy ears of Silver Queen corn.
“We’re gonna have this for supper.” Daddy had ten ears in his hands and we crossed the driveway to our porch swings in the yard.
“Hang on a second, Leah-Joy. I’m gonna do this,” he said with the grin he gets when he knows he’s got a good idea. Brian and Tim’s pick-ups were parked in our yard. They work for Daddy and his brother. They hadn’t gotten back from the woods yet. He opened the doors of the pick-ups and tossed fresh corn onto the driver seats.
The corn wasn’t as big as he wanted, but he sent it home with them anyway. He shared what he had with them even though the corn wouldn’t have made it on the cover of Southern Living. He gave them what he had, and for them, that was more than enough.
“Now, I’ll go get ours, “he said walking back across the driveway to go pull ten more ears of corn to put in his kiddos bellies.
We sat on the swing and swatted mosquitoes. He cut the husks and bad spots off. “Look, here’s some meat,” he said with a laugh.
“Ewww, Daddy! That’s a worm.”
“You just watch. Whenever Brian gets here, he’s gonna say, ‘well, where mines?’”
We kept cleaning and getting sticky. A few mosquito bites and sips of water later, another diesel service truck made dust boil. Tim and Brian moved slowly from a hot days work. Daddy waved his summer-browned hand and help up a shiny ear.
“Hey now, when you get through with that, just send it to my house, alright?” hollered the jokester of the crew.
Daddy looked under his dirty ball cap at me. “See Leah-Joy, I told ya.” He smiled.
“Just look in ya seat right there, Brian!”
Brian opened his door. “Oh, thank ya, sir!”
“Is that Silver Queen?” Tim asked
“Yeah,” came the answer from Daddy.
“Mmm, thank ya, Travis.”
Daddy just waved. “Alright. See y’all in the morning.”
We went back to pulling off silks and swatting and sipping.