He stops on the side of the road, letting the truck idle. Then he turns and looks at me like he’s weighing the checks and balances on one of his ledgers.
“Melody grew up here,” he says. “I knew her family for years.”
“Tell me about them,” I say.
Uncle Daniel taps the steering wheel, like he’s drumming up the past.
“Arthur Monroe, Melody’s father, served in World War I and got gassed and supposedly was never the same,” he begins. “Arthur couldn’t get work, and they were really struggling. I used to take them vegetables from our garden every now and again, and your grandfather used to take them eggs and whatever he thought would help.”
I wonder if this Arthur Monroe is my other grandfather.
“The mother died pretty young, and there were three children,” he continues. “An older boy, Johnny, and then two girls, Ruby and Melody. Melody was the youngest. I hadn’t seen her since she was a little girl. Skinny little thing. Really quiet. The other sister, Ruby, died young, and then Melody was sent off to live with relatives. She’s had a rough life, that’s for sure,” Uncle Daniel concludes.
“What was the brother like?” I ask, not telling him why I want to know.
Uncle Daniel pauses again, and winces as though his leg is bothering him, but he hasn’t even used the clutch. “Johnny was a sad case,” he begins again, “especially since his daddy used to slap him around.”
“How did he die?” I ask. It is a simple question, except I may be talking about my daddy.
“Accident,” Uncle Daniel says. “He fell.”
I wait for more. “If that’s the long answer, I’d hate to hear the short version,” I say. I try to be funny, like Mama is sometimes, but Uncle Daniel isn’t amused. He rubs his other leg like that one is suddenly hurting, too. I wonder how far to go with my questions, but then he starts the truck again like he’s finished. We are quiet for the rest of the ride.
When we turn to go down the road to Great Aunt Sadie’s house, Uncle Daniel tells me he’s not going to lie to Mama about where I am.
“Tell her I’ll talk to her when she gets home after work,” I say.
He says he will.
“Give me a call if you need a ride home,” he says.
I say I will and get out of the truck.
As I approach the house, Great Aunt Sadie comes out of the barn carrying a baby goat. For an old lady, she is still strong. She smiles when she sees me like I am a friend she hasn’t seen for a while. A hawk feather sticks out her brown fedora, her long, white hair captured under the hat.
At the end of the driveway, Uncle Daniel gives the truck horn a quick toot and waves to Great Aunt Sadie. I hadn’t realized he was watching.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she says.
She delivers the baby goat to my arms. “Isn’t she a beauty?” she asks, before I have time to answer. “I’m taking her to the side yard so she can hang out with the other kids for a while and give her mama a rest.”
The faint smell of mama’s milk is on the kid’s breath, and I can feel its beating heart against my chest.
“Baby animals make the world softer somehow,” Great Aunt Sadie says. “Birth of any kind is a miracle when you think about it.”
For the first time that day I think of Crow and wonder if I’ll have a family someday.
When Great Aunt Sadie opens the wooden gate to the side field, I put the goat down and she wobbles off to meet her siblings and cousins. My great aunt hasn’t asked why I’m not in school or why I might want to visit a day after I just saw her.
“You need to talk?” She has a way of knowing things even if you don’t speak them. “Let’s go inside,” she adds, with a nod.
Unlike Uncle Daniel, whose allegiances are clearly drawn, Great Aunt Sadie is as loyal to me as she is to Mama. She brought us both into the world. We make our way into the kitchen and wash the goat smell off our hands.
In contrast to the Monroe cabin, the room is full of light and living things. Different herbs line the window sills and English ivy crawls from pots toward the light. She likes to bring outside things inside, and on warmer days she practically lives outside.
An abandoned wasp’s nest is on the top of the tall kitchen cabinet and a small robin’s nest with two broken blue shells sits at the center of the table. I take note to see if there’s anything new and spy a fragile snakeskin resting on the ledge near the door. Several smooth white stones are stacked nearby.
“Thirsty?” she asks.
I nod.
She gives me a glass of pure well water from a white pitcher. I drink it all at once.
“You had lunch?”
“Not yet,” I say, knowing it won’t be long before I have a feast before me.
As expected, she cuts up potatoes and onions and fries them in butter on the stove and tosses in herbs from the windowsill. Then she takes four eggs sitting in a basket and breaks them in the middle of the potatoes and onions. She slices two big pieces of bread from the loaf sitting on the counter and places them in the oven to brown. Then she sets the strawberry preserves that Granny made on the table. Her food always tastes different than Granny’s, with different flavors that taste like surprises.
Plates in front of us, she tosses her hat on a nearby chair, and her hair falls to her shoulders.
“Bless this food we are about to receive,” she says, with a wink toward the ceiling like she and God share the kitchen.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the food was before me. Somehow finding out secrets steals an appetite away, at least until enticed by a lunch like this one.
“Okay, out with it,” she says, after a few bites. “I know you’ve got questions or you wouldn’t be here.”
I pause long enough to form the words. “Does it count as a lie if someone knows something you should know but they don’t tell you?”
“Is this a riddle?” she asks, dead serious.
I pause again to figure out how to make it clear.
“Like if someone has a secret that involves you, but they don’t tell you about it, is that still a lie?”
“I guess it’s a lie of omission,” Great Aunt Sadie says. “Why?”
“I went to see Melody Monroe,” I say, my confession unplanned.
Sadie stops mid-chew.
“What did she say?” she asks, her voice veering towards what could be mistaken as a low growl.
“She said that her brother, Johnny, is my father.”
Her fork falls on the plate with a sharp clang, making us both jump. Then her eyes grow serious. “Does your mother know you talked to her?”
“Not yet.”
Great Aunt Sadie wrings her hands long enough for her food to grow cold, and the wrinkles on her forehead have multiplied. I don’t like seeing her worried. It makes me wonder if I am wrong for seeking out the truth.
“Keep in mind, Lily, that nothing is as it seems,” she says, finally. “You may think you know the story and it can turn out to be something else entirely.”
“Did all of you know?” I ask.
“Did all of us know what?” she says.
“Did all of you know who my father was? Did all of you keep it from me?”
She pushes aside her plate, the eggs and potatoes of little interest to her now. “You need to talk to your mother,” she says.
“But she’s the one who lied to me.” I tell myself to stay calm.
Her look has kindness in it. “First of all, you need to hear the whole story before you make up your mind about things,” she says. “You know your mama wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt you. You know that, Lily, don’t you?”
I don’t answer and push my plate away, too. It’s true that Melody may be lying, but that doesn’t change the fact that my entire family has been lying to me by omission for the last fourteen years. Mama being the one who omitted the most.
“Melody said her brother, Johnny, dropped out of sixth grade and was meaner than a snake. Is that
who my father was? A lowlife who didn’t even finish elementary school? Why was Mama with him? Was she that hard up?”
Great Aunt Sadie rises, placing her fists on the wooden table. “Don’t you ever talk about your mama like that.” Her eyes don’t waver from mine.
I swallow. It’s the first time she’s raised her voice to me.
“Your mama is one of the bravest souls I’ve ever met on this earth,” she says. “And she does not deserve one moment of your criticism.”
I lower my head and agree.
“I’ve said too much already,” she continues. “You need to talk to her, and not make harsh conclusions until you hear the whole story.”
Her lips form a stern line and her eyes appear darker than their usual gray.
“I guarantee you that Melody Monroe wants something out of this,” she begins again. “I could see that look in her eyes when she showed up at your house yesterday. That girl has had a hard life. Her daddy wasn’t right in the head, and her sister was one of the saddest souls I’ve ever seen. You be careful, Lily,” she continues. “You be careful who you trust and who you don’t trust. Your mama has stood by you every day of your life. You need to hear her side of the story before you go jumping to conclusions.”
Two robin’s eggs shells sit on the windowsill. More than ever, I want to fly away from Katy’s Ridge and never return. For the first time, I don’t care how much my leaving will hurt Mama. Even after Great Aunt Sadie told me not trust Melody’s words, I somehow know it is true that Johnny Monroe is my daddy. And no matter how much people defend Mama, she should have told me these things a long time ago.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wildflower
After arriving back at the mill, I find Daniel still sitting at Daddy’s desk. “Lily knows about Johnny,” he says.
I close my eyes and shake my head, not knowing whether to cry or cuss. “Where is she?”
“Sadie’s,” he says.
“What should I do, Daniel? Should I go to her?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. “I think she needs time to get used to it. Sadie will help with that.”
It’s hard for me not to rush over to Aunt Sadie’s house, but I need to think about what to do next. I don’t know how much she knows, or what Melody told her. That will have a lot to do with how I respond.
Unable to get anything done at the mill, I drive to June Sector’s house. I need a friend to talk to and Bee is still in school. All morning I’ve been thinking about how to tell Lily the truth, but Melody has beat me to it. I hate to think of Lily in that broken-down cabin, and I am relieved to know she’s now over at Aunt Sadie’s.
I park in the grass near the house, next to the Sector’s old Buick, and walk toward the door. When I reach the porch, Horatio, June’s husband, greets me—his tall, thin frame towering over me. Horatio is full Cherokee and his wife, June, is white. Until I gave birth to Lily, they were the primary outcasts in Katy’s Ridge.
“Still got that good luck charm I gave you?” Horatio asks the same question every time he sees me.
From my pocket, I pull out the small leather pouch with the star ruby inside to show him that I still carry it everywhere I go. The ruby was a gift from Horatio after Daddy died. For years now I’ve felt that Lily was my good luck charm, a gemstone in the midst of a sea of ordinary rocks.
“June around?” I ask.
“Out back,” he says.
A moment later, Crow comes out of the house to greet me.
“I didn’t know you were home,” I say.
“I’m on military leave,” he says.
I remember when Crow was a toddler running around the yard. Now he’s taller than his daddy and handsome—dark hair, blue eyes—blessed by the best parts of his parents.
“Does Lily know you’re home?” I ask. It’s no secret she’s had a crush on him since she was in third grade and he was in seventh.
“Pearl asked her over for supper.” He smiles, like it’s something he’s looking forward to.
Since Daniel said Lily wants to talk tonight, I’m wondering how she plans to do both.
“I’m here to see your mom,” I say to Crow.
“She’s out back,” he says, sounding like his daddy.
When I walk around the side of the house, I find June hanging laundry on the line. A breeze blows the clothes like sails on giant sailboats I’ve seen pictures of in Daddy’s books.
“You got time to talk?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says, as if she’s been expecting me.
June continues hanging the line, and I grab a wet blouse from the top of the clothes basket. I shake the water and wrinkles out and hang the blouse on the line.
“What’s up?” she says.
“All hell is breaking loose,” I say.
She glances over at me. “What do you mean?”
June has always been easy to talk to, easier than anyone in my family, and maybe even easier than Bee.
“Melody Monroe came back to Katy’s Ridge yesterday,” I say.
June’s eyes widen, confirmation that I’m not imagining how bad this is.
“Why in the world would she come back?” June asks.
“Doc Lester wrote a letter telling her she had a niece.”
“He sticks his nose into everything,” June says, hanging several pairs of white socks on the clothesline.
I agree.
Doc Lester has called June a witch on more than one occasion because she reads palms and tea leaves. He’s said similar things about Aunt Sadie.
“How do you know she’s back?”
“She showed up at the house yesterday.”
“On the anniversary?” June’s eyes widen again.
I nod. “There’s more,” I say. “I went to see her this morning and told her that if she cared about Lily she wouldn’t tell her anything about Johnny. But I just heard from Daniel that she already did.”
June snaps the wrinkles out of one of Crow’s uniform shirts and finishes the last of the laundry. She offers me one of the chairs Horatio made for the backyard. Then she joins me. The spot overlooks a valley with the soft mountains circling like ancestors. I take a deep breath.
“I’ve always loved it here.” I tell her.
June looks out over the mountains, as if she hasn’t seen them thousands of times before. “Does Melody know what happened?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “She knows Johnny is Lily’s father because she asked me what it was like that Lily looked so much like him.”
“She said that? Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She pats my hand. “Should have known Doc Lester would be at the center of this mess.”
“To be honest, I’m surprised it has stayed a secret for as long as it did,” I say.
“Mountain people can be loyal even when they shun you.” June grins, but then gets serious again.
“Isn’t it strange that Lily hasn’t found out before now?” I say. “Looks like somebody would have told her.”
“That child’s been protected her whole life,” June begins, “and not just by you. Sometimes I think your daddy is watching out for her, too.”
Tears threaten to come and June takes my hand.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get through this,” she says. “You’ve been through much harder things.”
“But, June, what if this leads to that other secret coming out?”
She looks at me. She knows exactly what secret I’m referring to. “Then we’ll deal with that, too,” she says, her tone resolute.
“Have you thought about confronting Doc Lester?” she asks.
“And say what?” I ask. “He’s basically told a secret that everybody in Katy’s Ridge already knows.”
“Except Lily,” June reminds me.
“Except Lily,” I repeat. “I’m beginning to see the unfairness in not telling her.” I can tell June things I’ve never told anyone. Not even Bee. For some reason, I feel totally safe with her.
“What else did Melody tell you?”
June asks.
“She wants to take Lily to Kentucky to visit an old dying aunt who wants to meet her. But something doesn’t feel right.”
“Then don’t let her go,” June says.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I have no intention of letting her go.”
“Does Nell know Melody is back?
“Mama pulled a shotgun on her yesterday and had it cocked before Melody finally got the message to leave.”
June laughs. “She protects her own, your mother.”
I nod. “I wonder what Daddy would do about Melody,” I say to June.
“He’d probably try to reason with her,” she says.
I pause. “Actually, I think Daddy probably would have told Lily the truth a long time ago, when she first asked,” I say. “But I didn’t have the courage for that, evidently.”
We look at the mountains, as if they might hold answers to my current situation.
“By the way, Lily didn’t go to school today,” I begin again. “She went over to the Monroe cabin and now she’s at Aunt Sadie’s.”
“Well, if anybody can talk sense into her, it will be Sadie,” June says.
I agree.
“You need to talk to Lily, too,” June says. “It’s time.”
“I know,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean I want to do it.”
“I know,” she echoes.
“Why did I think I could keep this secret indefinitely?” I ask her.
She glances back at the house. “A time comes when we can’t protect our children from the world anymore.”
“That’s exactly what Daniel said,” I say.
“Well, Daniel’s right,” she begins again. “We can’t prevent them being hurt. The best we can do is be around to help pick up the pieces if they fall.”
I thank June for being here for me.
“When does Crow leave?” I ask.
“Tomorrow, late,” she says, with a quick inhale. “Pearl invited Lily over for supper. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” I say. “Though she hasn’t said a word to me about it yet, and she told Daniel she wanted to talk to me tonight.”
“She’s got other things on her mind, I guess,” she says. “We’ll have plenty, regardless. You’re welcome to come, too,” she adds.
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