Mary Jo frowned. "Who?" She knew who Ma was talking about, but she wasn't about to encourage her match making.
Ma chuckled. "Who? I saw the way you looked at him - and he looked at you."
"You're imagining things again. He ain't got no use for me and I ain't got no use for a timber man."
Ma looked up as Billy Ray wandered into the kitchen. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with a fist. His rust colored hair stood on end and his plaid flannel shirt was buttoned crooked. His zipper was open and his boots were on the wrong feet.
He knew how to dress himself. He simply didn't care how he looked. She glanced down at her own clothes. She wasn't a very good example.
Ma looked him up and down. "Zip your pants and worsh your hands. Breakfast is almost ready."
Billy Ray casually zipped his pants and walked over to the basin. He dipped his hands in the water and swirled it around, unconcerned when the water sloshed on his shirt sleeves.
"Use soap," Ma said as she removed the pan from the stove.
Mary Jo got bowls from the cabinet and Ma scraped oatmeal into them. When Mary Jo returned to the cabinet for spoons, Billy Ray was still playing in the water. She grabbed the towel and tapped his shoulder. When he looked up, she handed him the towel. "Breakfast is on the table."
He gave her a big grin and took the towel from her hands.
At seventeen, he had never progressed beyond what could be expected from an 8-year-old, but he was the sweetest person she knew. He was no trouble to watch. He stayed in his room most of the time either playing with his wooden car collection or carving more. She doubted he even knew they had a visitor. No doubt Monroe was unaware of his presence. Ma probably made sure of that. Sometimes she wondered if it was best for Billy Ray.
After their moment of silence at the table, Ma looked at Billy Ray. "You need a haircut." Her attention switched to Mary Jo. Maybe I should work on both of you."
There were many things Ma did well. Cutting hair wasn't one of them. She always managed to get a gap somewhere and she had no sense of style. Billy Ray didn't care. If only they had enough money to get their hair professionally cut for once. Of course, that was a luxury, not a necessity. If only she had some way of earning money.