I turn back to the blanket and raise my eyebrows over the top of the book. “Shall I compare thee, to a Summer’s day?” I ask.
Leighlah chuckles and rolls over to face me. “I’d rather not thanks.”
“Though art more lovely and more temperate.”
“Rough winds do not shake the darling buds of May.”
“You should see my hair in the morning.”
“And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”
“This is true, but, my god, woman, give that book to me.”
“Sometime too hot...Hey, that’s not nice!”
Leighlah grabs the book out of my hands and flips through with far more direction than I'd like. My world freezes--stomach tumbling over and over--as her agile fingers find the right page.
“If there’s one thing Momma told me, it’s never to settle for none a that convoluted bull crap,” she strongly advises.
“What are you talking about? It’s Shakespeare.”
“And William Shakespeare, at least when it comes to his little sonnets, was a big ol’ marshmallow, awright?”
“I take offense to that.”
“Why? Haven’t none a yer little high schoolers figured it out by now. I mean, really now. Us southern gals need some heat in our lives. Here--" she makes a show of adjusting the appropriate pages for her viewing--"try this"
My oh my, whatever will happen next. ;-)
<3 Gina Blechman