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hot sauce onto his field peas before he stirred them into the mound of rice covering his plate.
    Hazel swallowed. “Thank you, Daddy.” She reached for Baby George’s hand under the table and squeezed it; her sister squeezed back.

    â€œGirl, I’m the luckiest man on God’s green Earth!” JC grabbed both of Hazel’s hands and swung her around as if they were already on the dance floor. Hazel felt warm inside and flushed outside. She didn’t resist when JC looped one of his long arms inside hers.
    â€œI gotta get to the grocery and back before Miss Clotille comes home!” she protested feebly.
    â€œLet me walk you piece of the way,” he crooned into her ear.
    Hazel slowed down enough to let him fall in step with her. On Tuesdays Miss Clotille had her teacher’s meeting and some committee meetings, so Hazel had plenty of time to pick up the few items for her refrigerator.
    For now, she could pay attention to how solid JC’s shoulder was against hers, and how pleasantly manly he smelled, even though he’d been clipping hedges when he saw her. They strolled. Hazel wished she could be seen, but this was a working neighborhood and it was only threeo’clock. Even the old people were still inside listening to their radio programs or dozing at this time of day.
    â€œHazel, I gotta tell you something.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Hazel didn’t know him as well as she planned to, but she heard the romance creep out of his voice. She looked up sharply.
    There wasn’t a trace of dishonesty in his face. He stopped and swallowed. Hazel watched his Adam’s apple slide up and down. He tightened his grip on her hand the same way she’d done to Baby George, and that was comforting.
    â€œI took on another job.”
    â€œThat’s all? I have to tell you, JC, that I do like a hardworking man.” She squinted up at him. His chiseled cheekbones glistened in the afternoon sun. “I’m glad. But what I mean to tell you is that—well, I know you’re a real upright kinda girl—and—”
    â€œYou haven’t broken the law, have you?”
    â€œNo! No! I joined a band, Hazel. A jazz band.”
    Hazel sighed and smiled. “Well, honey, I know you’re a musician! That seems natural to me.”
    He grinned. His teeth were the straightest, whitest teeth Hazel had ever seen on a man. She figured they had never seen tobacco, those pretty teeth. But it was clear that JC wasn’t through talking. Hazel waited patiently, and she could tell that he appreciated her calmness.
    â€œI’m glad. The thing is, I worked last weekend. We did this gig, you know—that’s what we call a performance—and it was at a private club.”
    Hazel knew what that meant. It meant a restricted club. A White club. Why would she take exception to that? The money was still green, wasn’t it? She kept listening. JC cocked his head to one side, almost like he wanted to see her better.
    â€œThis was last Saturday night,” he said carefully. Hazel nodded.
    â€œThese White men were having a party. They had some gambling and they were all liquored up and we played till two in the morning. The thing is, we weren’t the only … uh … entertainment. Hazel, there was women there, women they hired to come. Jurdine was one of the women.” He took a breath. “I saw her leave with one of ’em.”
    Hazel’s knees went numb, and she felt herself drifting from the great height of truth down to the hard reality of lies. Last Saturday night. When Jurdine had worn perfume to the night shift.
    â€œHey, baby! Are you okay? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything … Hazel, I’m sorry!” She was in his arms, but it wasn’t the way she’d dreamed it would be. Her heart was racing, and she could barely speak.
    â€œHazel! Doggone it, I shoulda kept my big mouth—”
    â€œIt’s all