A Smidgen of Sky

by Dianna Dorisi Winget

  Ginger snickered.

  My eyes were scratchy from grit, and all I wanted to do was wash my face. “I don’t know.” I bent down and brushed some of the dirt from my bare legs.

  Ben chuckled. “Guys throw punches and girls throw nuts, is that it? You two work out whatever you were fussin’ about?”

  Ginger and I looked at each other. “Yes, sir,” we answered together.

  “Good,” he said. “Now maybe you can get some work done.”

  8

  GINGER AND I finished our Popsicles and then filled the wheelbarrow twice before an old farm truck pulled up with a load of black, crumbly cow poop.

  “That’s gross,” Ginger said. “I’m not touching it.”

  The sun grew hot as blue blazes, but Ben kept on working, heaving railroad ties into place, his T-shirt sticking to him like syrup to a flapjack.

  About the time the farm truck left, Ginger whined about having a rock in her shoe and limped off toward the giant oak. She leaned up against the tree, barefoot, picking at one of her toenails. “What did you do?” I asked. “Chip some polish?”

  She wrinkled up her nose at me.

  Ben smiled.

  I guess it was that smile that made me ask, “You want me to spread some of this manure around?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Sure. Rake’s over there.”

  Ginger lazed around in the shade and watched us till Ben sent her inside to make a pitcher of sweet tea. I kept raking, smoothing the dirt, still thinking about the pecan fight with Ginger. Something was different between us, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  By the time Ol’ Faithful roared up that evening, Ben had all the railroad ties in place and I had the soil raked smooth. Ginger and I used the garden hose to rinse off the worst of our dirt while Ben went around front to get Mama.

  I heard the car door slam and Mama giggle.

  “Here she comes,” Ginger whispered.

  Mama shuffled into view, one of Ben’s big hands clamped over her eyes as he guided her toward us. “What in the world’s goin’ on, Ben Hutchings? And what’d you do with the girls?”

  “Sold ’em to a slave trader passing on through. Got a hundred bucks a head.” He brought her to a stop right in front of the garden and lowered his hand, nodding to Ginger and me.

  “Surprise!” we shouted.

  For a split second, confusion flickered across Mama’s face, but then she saw what she was supposed to be looking at, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Get out of town. It’s a raised bed.”

  “For your garden,” Ben said.

  Mama turned and threw her arms around him as though she didn’t even notice how dirty and sweaty he was. “Have I ever told you what a great guy you are?”

  He hugged her back and winked at me over her shoulder. “I can’t take all the credit. The girls helped, too.”

  Mama gave Ginger and me each a hug, then started gushing about black-eyed peas and beans and collard greens, telling us what-all she was going to plant where.

  Right about then is when my stomach started rumbling. “All this talk about food is sure making me hungry.”

  “Me too,” Ginger said.

  Mama dug out a pizza from Ben’s freezer and put it in to bake while the three of us got a more thorough washup. Ginger loaned me a clean shirt. Then, not long after we’d eaten, Mama pushed her chair back with an unhappy look and said that we’d better get going.

  Ben scowled. “Do what? All my hard work today, and all I get is a lousy hour of your time?”

  Mama edged over and sat on his knee. “I know. I’m sorry. But I have to get to the bank before it closes, and I told Piper Lee I’d take her to the library for a bit, too. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

  I tried hard not to act surprised when she mentioned the library; I’d forgotten all about it. Now that Ginger had found the letter, there didn’t seem much point in going, but I waited to tell Mama until we were on our way home.

  “How come?” she asked. “You seemed so sure about it this morning.”

  “I just don’t feel like going now. Too tired, I guess.”

  “That garden was sure a surprise. Thank you for helping.” She sighed. “Ben’s so good about doing nice things for me. He spoils me rotten.”

  “I bet Daddy did plenty of nice things for you, too.”

  “Hmm? Oh, well, sure, honey. Course he did.”

  “Like what?”

  She hesitated, as if she might answer wrong and upset me. “Well, he took me out to supper a lot. And he used to buy me flowers—carnations. Those were his favorite. And we’d go dancing sometimes.”

  “I didn’t think you liked to dance.”

  “I don’t, actually. I’m lousy at it. But your daddy loved it. He just loved going out and doing something, anything—the wild and crazier the better. He was always dragging me here and there.” Her voice softened. “I have no idea what drew us together; we were so different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mmm. Your daddy was such a free spirit. He liked to make his own rules, and he loved taking risks.” She paused. “He was still in the Air Force at the time, the most exciting man I’d ever met in my life. Plus, the fact that I was only eighteen and he was thirty made him pretty impressive, too.”

  “Sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “Oh, you bet. We had tons of fun. But then you came along and the risk-taking didn’t seem so fun anymore. It scared me then. Funny how having a baby changes your whole outlook on things.”

  I studied my hands. Even though I’d scrubbed them hard, black streaks still outlined my fingernails. “You were nineteen when I was born?”

  “Almost twenty.”

  “Were you ready for me?”

  “You mean, was I ready to be a mother?”

  I nodded.

  Mama considered it. “I’ve never regretted having you, Piper Lee. But if I could do it over, I think I might have waited a couple years longer. Having babies is a huge responsibility. You really need to wait until you’re grown up and ready.”

  “Ginger’s mama wasn’t ready,” I said.

  Mama’s shoulders jumped back. “No. No, she wasn’t. Some women never are.”

  “Never?”

  “Not everybody wants children, Piper Lee. And that’s perfectly okay. Course, the time to decide that is before you have one, not after. But Ben’s done a terrific job with Ginger all on his own. That’s one of the things that makes me respect him so much.”

  “But he’s not like Daddy, is he? He’s not a risk taker.”

  “Lordy no, thank goodness. I need some stability in my life. But he . . . he’s the kind of person who I know will always be there for me. For us. I feel real safe when he’s around.” She cracked a silly grin. “That and the fact that he’s as cute as a speckled pup.”

  I groaned.

  Mama laughed. “And speaking of the raised bed and nice surprises, did Ben happen to mention the surprise he has for you?”

  All my muscles tightened. “What surprise?”

  “He’s scheduled to work the Saturday of the air show, but he signed up to take the afternoon off so the four of us can go together.”

  It felt as if the car seat dropped away from underneath me.

  “That’s right,” she said. “He’s taking four hours of his vacation time to do something you want to do.”

  “But I never asked him about it.”

  “I know. I decided to. He already knew about it—said you’d mentioned it the other day at the beach. But I didn’t ask him to take time off from work. He came up with that all by his lonesome.”

  “Wow,” I whispered. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Yeah,” Mama said. “Pretty nice guy, huh? And what’s he gonna get in return?”

  It took a while before it dawned on me that she expected an answer. “Oh, um—a thank-you?”

  “That’d be a good start, along with a good attitude, maybe. Think you can manage?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” />
  Mama reached over and patted my knee. “I’m bushed, too. Let’s run by the bank quick and then just go home and watch a movie and kick back. How’s that sound?”

  “Sure,” I said. But I didn’t know what I’d just agreed to. My head buzzed like a honeybee in a whole field of blooms.

  That night I snuggled in bed with Mowgli and tried to sort stuff out. I’d been stupid as a loony bird to help Ben with the garden the way I had. I’d been too nice and spent too much time with him. He probably thought I was starting to like him, starting to be okay with him and Mama getting married. Maybe he was trying to make me like him by doing nice things.

  That’s why he hadn’t tattled on me for swimming out to the island. And why he’d offered me money for ice cream. Now he was fixing to take me to the air show. He probably had a plan of his own. A plan called Operation Winning Over Piper Lee.

  Maybe going to the air show would be a mistake. But I wanted to go real bad. I already had three dollars saved toward a ride on the sonic boom flight simulator. And I wanted to see the Blue Angels perform their famous Diamond Formation. See the rolls and dives and hear the booms of thunder, maybe even get an autograph from one of the pilots. Just thinking about it made my heart beat faster.

  I had to go—but I didn’t have to be nice to Ben. I’d say thank you if Mama remembered to make me, but other than that, I’d pretend he wasn’t there at all.

  In the meantime, I had to find a way to convince Ginger to give Operation Finding Tina another try. Surely Tina was ready to be a mama by now.

  At least I hoped so. I was almost outta time.

  9

  “MISS CLAUDIA?” I asked as soon as Mama left for work the next afternoon. “I watered all those flowers out back. Need anything else?”

  “You ’member those magnolia shrubs as well?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She glanced up from her sewing machine. “Well, then, no, child, I can’t think of nothing else right now.”

  “Okay, then I think I’ll ride my bike to the library for a bit. That all right?”

  “I s’pose it is. You asked your mama first?”

  “Oh, she won’t mind. It’s not very far. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  She held up two squares of fabric with red roosters on them. “What do you think of these potholders I’m making for your mama? You think these colors are okay?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. They look just right to me.”

  “Well, bless your heart. You be careful crossing those streets, now, you hear?”

  “I will,” I said. “Don’t fret about me.” Then I scooted out of there real quick, before she had time to realize that I’d never admitted to asking Mama about the library. But once I pedaled out of sight of the apartment, I slowed to give myself time to think.

  I didn’t like sneaking around behind Mama’s back like this. It made my belly feel all antsy. But the wedding raced toward me, and I owed it to Daddy to at least try to do right by him.

  I waved to Reverend Thomas as I passed the old Baptist church on the corner of Third and then waited for a delivery truck to pull out of the parking lot of the Taco Cabana on Fifth. By the time I reached the library, I’d talked myself out of feeling quite so nervous. After all, I was trying to bring Ginger and her mama back together. That wasn’t anything to feel bad about—it was downright admirable.

  I leaned my bike against one of the pillars by the front door and headed inside. I fished my library card out of my pocket as I neared the front desk. “Could I use the Internet, please?”

  The library lady didn’t look very old, but her glasses dangled from a gold chain around her neck. I thought only old people wore their glasses like a necklace.

  “I’ll need to see your card, please.” She ran it through a scanner and peered at the computer screen. I fidgeted. Maybe the card would somehow tell her what I was up to, that she shouldn’t let me use the Internet. But after a minute she smiled and said, “All right, we’ll put you on number nine. You can have thirty minutes, and more if you need it as long as no one else is waiting.” She scribbled the time on a sheet of paper and slid it across to me. “Need help with anything?”

  “No, ma’am. We use the Internet at school all the time.” But then I hesitated. “Do you know how to go about finding people?”

  “Finding people? You mean like a person’s address?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  “Well, the easiest way would probably be with the online phone book.”

  I guess she could tell by the look on my face that I didn’t have much idea what she meant. She wiggled a finger at me. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  She led me over to a computer and rolled out the chair. Her long fingers tapped in some letters on the keyboard. She wore pearly pink fingernail polish that made me think of Ginger. The screen flashed to Yahoo and then to the phone book. “Okay. Here you go,” she said, pointing. “Type the person’s name in this box right here, and any other information you might know in these boxes over here, and then click Enter. That’ll get you started.”

  “Okay. Thanks a lot.” I smiled and waited till she walked away, and then I took a quick peek over each shoulder. A couple of little kids sprawled on beanbags in the story-time corner, and a handful of people milled around the magazine racks, but Tuesday afternoon was a quiet time to come to the library. I took a deep breath and searched the keyboard for the letters in Tina’s name.

  The screen went white for a minute, and then six Tina Lymans flashed up. I couldn’t believe it. Two from California, one from Texas, two from Kansas. But one entry made my heart do a somersault. Littleton, Colorado. I took another peek over each shoulder. A fat lady in a flowered tent dress stepped around the end of a row and started toward me, but then she turned down another row and disappeared.

  I stared at Tina’s name for a long time. Now what? I hadn’t expected it to be so easy. I jotted down the Colorado phone number and started to close the page. That’s when I noticed the pop-up ad. “Need to find someone? We can help—Real Investigations for Real Answers.”

  Maybe it would be another way to find out more about Tina.

  “Are you searching for a lost loved one? Let us help. There’s a good chance some of our forum members may be able to answer your questions or provide valuable information. Share your thoughts and stories here, and get the help and support you need. Registration is free.”

  A tingle started at my neck and zipped clear down to my toes. It seemed as if those words were just for me. How come I’d never thought about doing any kind of search like this for Daddy? I read over some of the subject topics posted. There was a daddy looking for his two daughters. A college student trying to find her missing roommate. A mama looking for her eight-year-old son.

  There were twelve topics to a page and at least ten pages. “Boy, howdy,” I whispered. I’d never guessed how many lost persons there might really be. And how many people might be looking for them. Could someone out there know about Daddy? Maybe somebody knew if he was still alive or even where he might be.

  I glanced at the little slip of paper from the library lady. Fifteen minutes left. It didn’t take long to register and pick a username, but then I had to figure out how to tell Daddy’s story. It was a mighty big story to fit into a small square box.

  I’m looking for my daddy. His name is Christopher David DeLuna. He crashed his plane off the Georgia coast four years ago and was never found. I think he’s still alive someplace. Maybe he got hurt real bad and has been in a hospital. Or maybe he just can’t remember anything. But I would do just about anything to find out. If you think you might know about my daddy or the accident, please let me know.

  I thought about adding more, but my time was up. I scribbled the website information on a scrap of paper and clicked back to the library’s homepage. Then I darted over to the kids’ area and snatched a couple of books so I’d have something to show if Miss Claudia asked what I’d done at the library.

 
; I raced home as fast as I could pedal, feeling so full of myself that I could’ve lifted right off the seat and flown. Not only did I find Tina, I might’ve found out something about Daddy, too.

  I checked in with Miss Claudia and took a minute to ooh and aah over her progress on the potholders before slipping back across the hall. I hovered at the kitchen table, studying Tina’s phone number for a good ten minutes. Finally I found the courage to pick up the phone.

  I punched in a 1 and then the ten-digit number, clutching the phone real tight.

  One ring.

  Two rings.

  Maybe nobody was home.

  Three rings.

  Four rings.

  What if an answering machine came on?

  “Hello?” The lady’s voice paralyzed me.

  “Hello?” she repeated.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am, hello,” I got breath enough to say. “I—I’m looking for Tina. Tina Lyman.”

  “This is Tina.”

  “Are you the Tina that used to live in Georgia?”

  “At one time I did. Who is this?”

  “My name’s Piper Lee. I think you and my mama went to school together.” The lie slid off my tongue as slick as melted butter off a cob of sweet corn.

  “Oh, really? Who’s your mom?”

  “Her name’s Heather. Heather DeLuna.”

  “I don’t recognize the name. Are you sure you have the right Tina?”

  My mouth turned as dry as sunbaked clay. “This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?” she asked. “Because I was just on my way out and I don’t have time to fool around.”

  “Are you Ginger’s mama?” I blurted.

  Silence.

  It went on so long, I feared maybe she had hung up on me. But then she said, “How do you know Ginger?”

  I almost hung up myself. If I answered that question, there was no turning back. “Her daddy’s gonna marry my mama.”

  The lady made a strange little whistling noise under her breath. “Ben’s getting remarried?”