Circa Tulsa 1964

Ch. Three

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"Dot!" My father whispered as he pushed the white door open, I had heard him. I had also heard the first round of alarms ring through the house but I was hesitant to leave the warmth of my bed. In between being soaked by the rain more than once yesterday and the temperature of a perfect midmorning comforter, I was more than content where I was. "Dottie June." He pressed, walking into the room farther, grabbing a discarded stuffed dinosaur, and tossing it towards me.

"I'm awake," I promised, sending the green stegosaurus flying right back toward my father.

He caught it with a chuckle, setting the beloved childhood toy on my dresser. "Good, I was about to bring out the full name."

"The full name?" I laughed, sitting upright and pulling the curlers out of my now-dry hair. The dark locks fluff out once released from their hold. Bucky and I alike despised being called by our given names, they just didn't reflect our personalities like the nicknames did.

"Mom said you got yourself a job?" I nodded, glancing from him to the small analog clock on the nightstand.

"Yeah, me and Bucky are meeting the boys across the road for work around seven-thirty."

"You guys need a ride?"

"The station is just down the road, we can walk," I assured him, tossing the comforter to the side.

"If you say so, I better wake up your brother." My father slipped out of my room intending for the room across the way. Once he pushed the wood open he began the ten-minute-long task of waking up James Foster Jr.

I hummed along to some imaginary tune while I began to get ready, ever thanking the Lord that I had not been tasked with the chore of waking up my brother. Bucky was one of the heaviest sleepers known to mankind. The only boy I know that could potentially cause a toss-out would be our next younger brother. I dusted the makeup across my cheeks in the elegant ways my mother taught me before grabbing a pair of pants. Sticking to the base layers due to my added uniform that currently resided at the Curtis' house.

I skinnied quietly out of my bedroom as not to wake my other brothers and stepped down the stairs. Smiling at my father as he poured three bowls of cereal and conversed with his son. My father and Buck were almost spitting images of each other. It was strange to think about because most people thought Bucky and I looked identical to each other although the plausibility of us being anything but fraternal was preposterous. I always thought my brother resembled my father uncannily but I never saw it in myself. Maybe because I was a girl or maybe I just wanted to look like my mother. Her beauty was spoken about constantly in the town where we were from, it was only a dream to gain her features. Oh how I longed to have her hair color.

"You're color is off, nervous?" My father presumed, bringing our bowls to the table. Bucky snuck off to grab our shoes before joining us back at the table.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I never wanted a job at the gas station. This was Bucky's doing." I blamed the boy as he untied my pair of red Converse.

"No, I wanted the job. Mom made me take you with us." Bucky clarified, dropping my shoes on the rug in front of me.

"What's so nerve-racking about a gas station, sweetie?" I glanced over at my dad as I shrugged.

"Gas stations bring men and their muscle cars and I'll just be the dumb girl behind the counter." I huffed, poking at the cereal before inevitably taking a spoonful. I hated eating breakfast despite it being the most important meal of the day, I detested it.

"Dot, you've been around my boys at the firm long enough to know your way around a basic motor." My dad scoffed, cocking his eyebrow before poking around his own bowl of cereal.