At school, most people my age have mothers who stay at home. Or they work as school teachers or nurses. They certainly don’t work at sawmills or run their own businesses. And they certainly don’t kiss another woman.
“I hate you!” I yell as loud as I can on the way to Pearl’s house.
Spit mixes with my fly-away hair. The road is not muddy like on the way to the Monroe place, but I slow my pace. I feel tired from the day. Tired from running like a colt out of a barn into an unfenced pasture. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. My day was already spoiled with the visit to Melody’s. And now this. I flash on Mama looking into Miss Blackstone’s eyes and touching her face and then shake my head to wipe away the pictures. In the next instant, I decide I hate Miss Blackstone, too. Up until twenty minutes ago, she was probably one of the five people I most admired in the world, along with Mama. But now, I never want to see either of them again.
My lungs burning, I slow to a walk. When I reach Pearl’s house, I knock on the door, winded and close to tears.
June Sector opens the screen door, an old diaper slung over her shoulder like she’s been cleaning.
“Lily, are you okay?” she says when she gets a look at me.
“I’m fine, ma’am,” I say, thinking that I’m getting good at being a liar, which is probably a Monroe family trait.
“You don’t look fine,” she says.
“Is Crow still here?” I ask.
Seeing Crow again may be the only thing that can redeem one of the worst days of my life. The only thing that comes close to competing is when I got my period in eighth grade on a day I wore a white dress to school. Miss Blackstone went with me to the bathroom and helped me wash out my dress, and then loaned me a Kotex pad and a sanitary belt and one of her big sweaters to wear over the dress. Thankfully, Miss Blackstone is tall so the sweater was almost as long as my dress. I tremble with the thought. Then I remember Mama kissing Miss Blackstone and shudder.
“Crow is out hunting with his daddy,” June Sector says. “Does your mama know you’re here?”
I tell her no.
The Sectors are friends of Mama’s. I’ve played with Pearl and her brothers and sisters since I was in diapers. No wonder Mama is friends with every outcast in Katy’s Ridge. She’s one, too. I guess I didn’t want to see it, because that makes me the daughter of an outcast, and one of them. I’m not sure why this never occurred to me. I guess I didn’t want to see it. After all, the reason Mama is an outsider is because she had me.
June Sector hasn’t moved from the door and looks at me like she’s trying to get a reading.
“I’m actually here for Pearl,” I say, standing straighter, doing my level best to act normal.
She calls for Pearl.
Rumors have spread for years that June Sector is a witch. But I’ve known her for as long as I can remember, and I’ve never seen her do anything witch-like. No brooms or caldrons or black clothes are in sight. Although to some people even having the secret sense is suspect, so telling fortunes is even worse. Backward ways, Mama calls them. Everybody has backward ways, she says, even people in big cities. But I don’t trust what Mama says anymore. My list of reasons to leave Katy’s Ridge is growing.
When I look up from my thoughts, June Sector is still at the door. “Are you staying for supper, Lily?”
It’s only then I remember I’m supposed to come to supper tonight. I can’t believe I forgot about this in the midst of all the other trouble. Any other time I would have been dreamy all day with anticipation.
“I haven’t asked permission yet, but I guess so,” I say. At that moment, I don’t care if Mama gets mad at me. I wish I could leave with Crow tomorrow and go to Korea, or anywhere far away.
If Granny finds out Mama has been kissing Miss Blackstone, I doubt Mama will be welcome to live at the house anymore. Will I have to go, too? What will we do then? Mama always tells me there are consequences to our behavior.
Well, Mama, what are the consequences of this? I want to ask her. My confusion deepens.
Even though I’ve seen Mama and Miss Blackstone together hundreds of times, I’ve never seen them smile at each other the way they did at the mill. I’ve never seen them hold hands or even touch. For them to be so different behind closed doors means it’s a secret what they’re doing, and maybe it’s a dangerous secret at that.
When Pearl arrives, her hair is wet from a bath. She pulls me to the side porch where we can’t be overheard.
“Lily, what’s wrong? You look horrible. Have you been crying?”
I’m not sure what to say, or where to start.
“Talk to me,” she says in a half-whisper. “Where were you today? You didn’t come to school.”
“Long story,” I say, finding my voice again.
It really is a long story. I haven’t even told her about the stranger who visited yesterday. A stranger named Melody, who could very well be my aunt, the sister of my daddy. My daddy being a stupid snake, as it turns out. It also turns out that Mama may be something even worse.
All of a sudden, I don’t want to call him ‘daddy’ any more. It’s like he hasn’t earned it. A daddy is what Bolt and Nat have in Uncle Daniel. A daddy is what Pearl has with Mr. Sector. It’s someone who has been around and helped you with things.
My thoughts are still running even though I’m standing still. If it’s okay for two women to kiss, then why have I never seen anyone doing it before? And why would Mama hang around with someone snake-like? Questions overwhelm me. Questions I may never find out the answers to since Mama—who I plan to never speak to again—is my main source for answers. I’m not even sure what Great Aunt Sadie would have to say about this.
“Talk to me,” Pearl says. “You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
“Not a ghost,” I say, thinking the apparition that’s shown itself is actually a side of mama I never knew existed.
“Tell me what’s happened.” She grabs both of my shoulders and gives me a shake. I have to resist knocking her to the ground.
“Are you mad at me?” she asks. Her lips form a pout.
“No,” I say. “I’ve just had a really bad day.”
“I wish you’d tell me what happened,” she says. “We’re best friends.”
I pause. I can’t tell Pearl. Pearl’s loose lips could sink a fleet of battleships, and no matter how angry I am at Mama and Miss Blackstone, I don’t want them to get in trouble.
Seconds later, Crow and Mr. Sector come out of the forest each carrying a rifle and two rabbits. Rabbit stew is probably on the menu for supper. Crow smiles when he sees me and it reminds me of how Mama smiled at Miss Blackstone. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get that picture out of my mind.
Crow seems older than when he left to join the Army a year ago. His eyes linger on mine, as though he’s noticing how much I’ve grown up, too. I even have a bit of a figure now. Though, honestly, not that much of one. I couldn’t be Lana Turner if I tried.
Pearl gives me a poke in the ribs that nearly knocks me off the porch, and Crow grins at me again.
“See, I told you he likes you,” she whispers.
I imagine Cupid’s arrow aimed at my heart, but I don’t have time to fall in love right now. My whole life is collapsing in a heap on the floor like a steamer trunk emptying itself of secrets. Not to mention that I’m about to disown Mama.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Wildflower
Running up a hill reminds you real quick how old you are, but I need to find Lily. It will be dark in an hour. When I arrive, instead of Lily, I find Mama sweeping the front porch. A ritual she does every evening for three seasons of the year. Out of breath, I stop at the bottom of the steps and lean over.
“What is it?” she asks. Her frantic voice and the alarm in her eyes give me a snapshot of history—the day they brought Daddy up this hill for the last time. The day that changed all of our lives in an instant. My biggest fear is that this day will change all our lives, too. Especially
mine and Lily’s, and maybe Bee’s.
My breath still labored, Mama snaps her broom to attention. “Louisa May, if you don’t tell me this instant what’s going on I’m going to swat you with this broom.”
“Is Lily here?” I ask.
“No she isn’t,” Mama says. “What’s wrong?”
“I just need to talk to her.” A stitch grabs my side. I lean over again to give myself relief.
“You don’t run all the way up that steep hill just because you need to talk to somebody. What’s happened?” she asks again.
I make sure I’m not within swatting distance. Mama is almost as dangerous with a broom as she is with a shotgun.
“You two have a falling out?” she asks, a hand on one hip.
“Yes, Mama, you could say that we’ve had a falling out.”
I wait for her to look pleased, but she doesn’t.
“Sometimes I think you spoil that girl,” she says instead.
Now that my breath has returned, I feel riled. “The only thing I’ve spoiled Lily with is love,” I say.
We exchange a stare like old times.
Mama begins to sweep again, with a fierceness that was absent before. But then she stops, like she’s thought better of it. After Daddy died, she gritted her teeth and kept going, determined to plow through to the end of the row. Yet, as she ages, I’ve noticed her jaw loosen, as if she’s given up some of her fight.
“She’ll be home directly. It’s almost supper time,” Mama says. “That girl doesn’t miss a meal.”
My shoulders relax. I’m glad we’re not going to fight. I don’t think I could take two members of my immediate family angry at me. Not today, anyway.
I remember what June said earlier about inviting Lily over to supper. “She may be eating at Pearl’s tonight,” I say, to the sound of the broom hitting the wooden floor.
The swish stops. “Well, I wish somebody had told me that,” Mama says. “I’ve cooked enough for three people.”
Truth is, Mama always cooks for six, as if Daddy and all my sisters still lived at home.
“Of course, you two never think of me,” she adds.
“You know that’s not true,” I say to her.
My anger kicks up dust again that no broom can touch. But it’s not Mama that I’m angry with. It’s the world. A world that says Bee and me loving each other is wrong and needs hiding. A world where women aren’t always given a choice. A world where mothers and daughters don’t talk about things and misunderstand each other.
“I don’t want to fight, Mama, I’m just worried about Lily.”
“What did you two get in a tiff about?” Mama leans her broom against the house and sits in her porch rocker like she’s all of a sudden tired. I forget sometimes that she’ll soon be fifty years old.
Before answering her question, I play with the idea of being honest. What would life be like if every single one of us just told the truth? My bravery rises and falls with the swiftness of a chimney sweep.
“It’s nothing really,” I say. “Just a misunderstanding. If she shows up here at the house, just tell her I’m looking for her.”
Mama rocks, and I catch a glimpse of her in her old age. Frail. Tired. Ready to meet up with Daddy again. Sometimes it feels like I will always be the girl I was at thirteen, and Mama will always be the same age she was back then. But time keeps rocking on. All of us in the rhythm of growing older.
My thoughts swing from Mama to Lily. For the first time I realize that—unlike me—Lily probably won’t stay in Katy’s Ridge her whole life. She doesn’t talk about it, but I know from the books she reads that she wants to travel. She can name every state capital in the U.S., learned from a map tacked inside the bedroom closet we share. The same closet I shared with my sisters when I was growing up. Pretty soon it will be me sitting on this porch, rocking into my old age, finally getting a bedroom to myself and waiting for Lily to find time in her busy life to visit me. I don’t want anything to push her away before she’s ready, and this thing with Bee might give her a reason to leave too soon.
Meanwhile, Mama looks at me like I’m a place she’ll never get to visit, the distance between us too great. I wish I could send her an imaginary postcard that says I love you and wish you were here.
“Don’t wait supper on me, Mama. I need to find Lily, and then she and I need to talk.”
“Well, don’t talk her ear off,” Mama says. “Not everybody thinks that talking is the cure for whatever ails a person.”
“Yes, Mama,” I say. I walk up on the porch and give her a kiss on the cheek.
She shoos me away like I’m a gnat circling her head, but then her mood changes, as if I’m not the only one thinking of a time when she won’t be here anymore. She takes my hand and looks at me. I can’t remember the last time she did such a tender, simple thing. Her touch is cool, her skin rough. She has the hands of someone who has scrubbed floors her entire life, as well as labored at a thousand other things.
“I know you haven’t spoiled that child,” she says.
Her words are soft, forgiving and unexpected.
“Lily is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her mother,” she begins again. She strokes my hand like she’s rubbing a cool lotion into all the dry, cracked places of my soul.
My eyes water. “Thank you, Mama. That means a lot to me. It truly does.”
The look she gives me is full of tenderness. I soak it in, remembering the night in the barn so many years ago, the first time I saw the love at the center of her fierceness.
“Now, go find your daughter and bring her home,” she says. She pats my hand and the door to her softness closes. Yet, in a day that has shown no mercy, her tenderness feels like a moment of grace.
As the sun drops behind the mountain, I say goodbye to Mama and head back down the hill. Sometimes, we feel about as different as two people can be. Yet, over the years, we’ve worked at finding a path to each other, if only for moments at a time. Sometimes you don’t even have to leave home to travel great distances.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lily
Mama’s truck travels up the dirt road to the Sector’s house and pulls up into the worn spot in the yard where people park. The driver’s side door opens with a loud squeak. Worry dances across Mama’s face. As only Mama can do, she strides up the walk. Proud and determined.
In the late afternoon sun, I stand on the porch and fortify myself for what’s to come, making an effort to not look scared.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she says to me.
Compared to Crow and Mister Sector who have just returned from hunting, Mama is tiny, though she comes across as someone who is six feet tall. She greets all the Sectors and then shoots her worried look toward June before it settles on me again. I shoot her back a look that bypasses worry and goes straight to sheer meanness.
I am not speaking to you, my look says. I may never speak to you again.
My expression stops her at the steps.
“We need to talk,” she says to me.
“No we don’t,” I say, realizing I just broke my vow to never speak to her again.
Looking at her now, I see more than my mama, I see a stranger. Someone who hides things from people like the names of fathers and the people she’s in love with.
“What’s going on?” June asks her.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Mama says.
However, the look they exchange tells me that maybe June knows. If that’s true, she doesn’t seem the least bit shocked or surprised.
I have never been so confused in my life, and if I weren’t so worn out from running here I’d take off again.
“We need to talk, Lily,” Mama says again. “Get in the truck. I’ll take you home.”
“I’m having supper here,” I say.
“You are?” Pearl says, like it’s news to her.
Meanwhile, it bothers me that Crow is a witness to all this. For someone who doesn’t know what
happened, I could come across as hateful. Then it dawns on me that given who my daddy is, hatefulness may be another family trait, just like lying. I ball up a fist ready to scream, or better yet, punch someone. Preferably Mama.
“We can do supper another time,” June Sector says to me.
“We can’t do it another time. Crow will be leaving tomorrow,” Pearl says, her tone approaching a whine.
My face turns hot all over again, as though my private undergarments are hanging on the Sector’s clothesline for Crow to see. Mama tells me with a look that this isn’t the time or place to air our laundry, dirty or clean, and that I’d best be getting in the truck.
I cross my arms, refusing to go anywhere, and increasing the amount of trouble I’m in.
Pearl is wide-eyed, like she’s wondering what’s got into me. Meanwhile, Crow and Mr. Sector stand holding the dead rabbits, and Crow is staring down at his Army boots like they could use a polish.
“Lily McAllister, I want you in that truck this instant.” Mama’s finger points like an arrow toward the beat up Ford she bought third-hand. Her eyes tell me that I don’t want to know what will happen if I defy her. As much as I am ready to leave Katy’s Ridge forever, I’d like to leave with Mama’s blessing, not a curse.
Silent, heart racing, I saunter over and get in Mama’s truck. I slam the door, putting so much anger into the slam that the truck rocks, the shock absorbers singing in the choir with the squeaking door.
Mama and I have never had a fight this big, much less in front of people. She gets in the driver’s side of the truck and starts it. The truck sputters and clunks to life like it always does. Uncle Cecil is the only mechanic this old truck has ever seen, and he isn’t even a real mechanic.
As she puts the gears in reverse and backs out, I wish I could put the day in reverse and start it all over again. This time I’d go to school like I’m supposed to, and not go anywhere near Melody Monroe. If I’d done that to begin with, I’d be about to spend the entire evening with Crow.
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