“That’s not true.” I didn’t know the particulars, but I knew better than to believe Samantha Rose.
“It is, too.” Her face was flushed with anger. “I had to watch Ronelda flit around here like she was better than me my whole life, and now you think you’re gonna do it? Ha! If it weren’t for me, you’d be with those stuck-up people right now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Who do you think told your daddy’s people Ro was putting you up for adoption? They were none too happy to find out Jud’s baby was going off the mountain. ’Specially since he was dead and buried.”
“You told them?”
“That’s right. Ro was acting like you were gonna be some fairy-tale princess or something. Why should her kid be all that while mine was stuck here? She always was selfish!”
I felt dizzy. I was being hit with so much information. My letter had never been mailed. Samantha Rose was the one who got the adoption stopped.
It was all because of Samantha Rose. Everything suddenly made sense.
“You? You stopped the adoption?”
“Ain’t that what I just said? Of course, Ronelda threw a conniption and got you back. Still, a trailer park in Farley wasn’t exactly a princess fairy tale, now was it?”
I stood up and walked closer to her. She could have reached out and smacked me or grabbed my ear again, but I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t even angry. I was just tired of it all.
I stared her straight in the eye. “Thank you,” I said softly, then again, louder. “Thank you! If it weren’t for you, I’d never have known my mama.” Then I picked up my backpack and shoved my way past.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
If Mr. Vic noticed the bus was quieter than usual the next morning, he didn’t mention it. I stared out the window, silent. Camille and Gilbert stared at me.
“I’m sorry, Wavie,” Gilbert said for the third time. “I didn’t want you to go, but I did, for you. You know what I mean?”
I nodded.
“What time is your hearing tomorrow?” Camille asked.
“One.”
“My mom is bringing me. Gilbert and Gran and Mrs. Barnes are coming, too. If you want to tell Mrs. Chipman you’d rather have a foster home, we’ll back you up.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll just avoid Samantha Rose for the next seven years until I can leave.”
“And her with all your money,” Gilbert said. “It ain’t right.”
I leaned my head on the window and wiped my nose with the bottom of my T-shirt. “Samantha Rose wins.”
“Where’s the Bowmans’ letter?” Gilbert asked. “The last one.”
“In my backpack. At least Samantha Rose didn’t find that when she searched my room.”
“Can I see it?” he asked.
I nodded and passed the letter over. He could keep it, burn it, turn it into an airplane and throw it at Punk for all I cared. The Bowmans were no more family to me than Mr. Vic and they never would be.
• • •
I WAS SUPPOSED to be studying for my upcoming Math test, but in the face of Samantha Rose’s T-R-E-A-C-H-E-R-Y—CHEATER, HATE, TEAR—I gave myself permission to sulk.
Mrs. Crowder got up from her desk to write more practice problems on the board. While her back was turned, I pulled out the list Mama had given me before she died. The first two were done, over, finished, but that left five to do.
The chaplain said since I’m a believer, you and I would meet in heaven if you act right. I told him if it depended on how we acted it’d be a right lonely place. Just ’cause someone’s in charge don’t mean they’re smart. Think for yourself. Also, be good. It doesn’t hurt to cover all your bases.
No dropping out of school! I’m banking on you being the first Conley to ever go to college. U-N-I-V-E-R-S-I-T-Y even has some fine words in it like NURSE and VET!
Cry when you need to but don’t dwell. It won’t bring me back and you’ve got to get on with living.
Be brave, Wavie B.! You got as much right to a good life as anybody, so find it!
Never, ever forget that I loved being your mama more than anything in this big, wide world.
So in a nutshell, be good, stay in school, be happy, think for myself, be brave, remember she loved me. The thing was, right now I didn’t want to be good. I wanted to be mean like Hoyt and Samantha Rose, the people who got to do what they wanted.
I had hoped that Mama wouldn’t die, but she had. I’d hoped that the Bowmans would write back, but Samantha Rose had nixed that. I could think for myself, and I could see that life wasn’t like math, where there was only one answer and if you did the right figuring you’d find it. Life was like science where you gave it your best hypothesis and then through trial and error you either cured a disease or blew up in a lab explosion, and so far I hadn’t cured a disease.
The speaker in our classroom squawked. “Mrs. Crowder? Could you send Wavie Conley to the principal’s office?”
Mrs. Crowder motioned for me to stand. “She’s on her way.”
“What’d you do?” Punk Masters whispered.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” Other than skipping school with Gilbert that once, I hadn’t missed a day.
The office was on the same hallway, just a few feet away from our classroom, but it felt like a mile. By the time I walked to the end and opened the door that read P-R-I-N-C-I-P-A-L (PANIC, PAIN, RIP), my heart was pounding.
Mrs. Rivers smiled from behind her desk. “C’mon in and sit down, Wavie.”
I pulled out a chair. “Is something wrong?”
“That was going to be my question to you. How are you settling into life at Farley Middle School?”
“Fine, I guess,” I said. “It’s not real different from where I was before.”
“I see.” She looked at me over the top of her glasses. “I’ve been talking to your teachers.”
“You have?”
“Yes. They say that your grades are fine, but that you’ve become less engaged lately.”
“Oh.” I clasped my hands together. “I guess I’ve been distracted.”
She sighed. “How are things at home? I imagine life with Samantha Rose could be difficult.”
I couldn’t help but snort. “Fractions are difficult. Samantha Rose is a whole level of math that hasn’t been discovered yet.”
Her mouth twitched. “Can the school help? I know you’re signed up for the food program. My church gets donated clothes from time to time. Do you need anything like that?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be all right. Mama said that a hard life makes people hard.” I gave a small smile. “At this rate I’ll be a statue by the time I graduate.”
Mrs. Rivers looked sad. “Hard living makes hard people sometimes, but it can also make them strong, Wavie. And it doesn’t have to make them mean.”
I thought of Mama, and Samantha Rose and Hap Conley. “How do you get one and not the other?” I asked.
She held her hand out over the desk, open, and waited until I placed mine inside hers. “You find a reason to keep hoping, Wavie. And an education is a great way to keep hope alive.”
“I’ll try,” I whispered. It was the best I could do.
• • •
AS I WALKED up the front steps after school, a burst of color caught my eye. My mother’s peony plant had finally started to bloom. I smiled at the tiny pink buds. Mama had said peonies were fickle, so I’d been afraid the plant wouldn’t make it, but here it was, blossoming. I might have more of her talent than I knew. Mrs. Rivers had said that education was the key to keeping hope alive. Maybe I’d get some botany books from the library. U-N-I-V-E-R-S-I-T-Y had IVY, VINE and IRIS in it, too.
I bent down to pick a black-eyed Susan. Samantha Rose might be hard like Hap, but I had my grandmother’s and my mom’s talent for flowers, and no mat
ter what happened, she couldn’t take that away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I’m going to the car!” Samantha Rose yelled from the kitchen. “Don’t make me come get you.”
I walked slowly down the hallway. In a few hours, it would be official and Samantha Rose would be my guardian. I softly tapped the photos of Mama as I walked by. The picture of the two sisters in their Christmas dresses was crooked and I pulled the corner down to straighten it.
“I do look like you,” I whispered. “And I’m glad Samantha Rose doesn’t.” I kissed my fingertip, then placed it on Mama’s face. “She’s right. You got the best of everything.”
The photo of Hap Conley and Marley Savage was crooked but I didn’t bother to straighten it. Let the old, mean cuss hang sideways for all I cared. I’d forgotten to give Gilbert the article about Marley that had been taped to the back. I ignored the Buick’s horn and retrieved it from my bedroom.
My jeans were stiff from hanging on the line, but at least the dirt had come out. Samantha Rose probably wasn’t kidding about returning them once this hearing was over. So far she hadn’t noticed my sneakers. I dreaded thinking about what she’d be like once the guardianship was final. G-U-A-R-D-I-A-N-S-H-I-P—GNASH, ANGUISH, PIRANHA.
• • •
THE COUNTY COURTHOUSE was only eight miles away, but it was a long, curvy ride. I didn’t speak to Samantha Rose once. It didn’t matter, because Samantha Rose talked enough for both of us. She talked about how Hoyt wasn’t getting to play enough and that coach was going to hear it from her, and how caring for Uncle Philson was wearing her out, and that she didn’t understand why Camille’s mama was coming to the hearing, like it was any of her business, and why was she bringing the whole Holler with her. But mostly she talked about what I would get if I even thought about causing a problem at the hearing.
The courthouse was busy with folks walking hurriedly across the glossy floor of the lobby. They all spoke in hushed tones, and a few dragged along faded-looking kids wearing serious expressions.
Camille and Gilbert stood across the lobby beside Mrs. Rodriguez, Gran and Mrs. Barnes. They were far enough that Samantha Rose could pretend they weren’t there, but I was glad they’d come. Their necks swiveled back and forth as they watched people arrive. Gilbert looked even more nervous than I was.
Mrs. Chipman appeared and explained what was going to happen. “There are several cases to be heard,” she said. “If y’all want to come in you can, or I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
“Later,” I said. “I don’t want to go in yet.”
She gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered.
“There’s nothing to it,” she said. “The judge will ask a couple of questions and you’ll be back home in time for Wheel of Fortune.” She gave me a cheery wave and disappeared back inside.
I sighed. Grown-ups almost always saw what they wanted to see. My palms were sweating and I wiped them down my jeans. Something was in my front pocket and I pulled out the newspaper article about Marley Savage.
I walked over to Gilbert and my friends. “Here,” I said to Gilbert.
“What’s this?” he asked. He was twitching like he’d drunk some of his gran’s black coffee.
“I found it while I was cleaning. I forgot to give it to you, but I thought you’d want it since you’re looking for Marley’s bones and all.”
Gilbert barely glanced at it. “Cool. Thanks.”
“What is wrong with you?” I whispered. “I’m the one going before the judge.”
“Nothing,” he said. “I just don’t like courtrooms.”
Camille grabbed my arm and pointed down the hallway. “Hey,” she said, “is that who I think it is?”
Sitting on a bench at the other end of the lobby was a very tall, very thin man wearing a suit. His hair was shorter, and he didn’t have a beard, but there was no doubt that it was Angel Davis. An attorney in a business suit and heels sat next to him, talking into her phone.
“What is he doing here?” Samantha Rose hissed.
Mrs. Rodriguez frowned. “He’s here for his competency hearing, yes? Didn’t you call and turn him in?”
Samantha Rose put her hands on her hips. “That’s what concerned neighbors do.”
Gran snorted. “I’ve heard you called a lot of things through the years, Samantha Rose, but concerned ain’t one of them.”
Angel looked like me, like he’d rather be anywhere but here. I headed toward him.
“Where are you going?” Samantha Rose whispered.
I kept walking. Camille and Gilbert fell in step behind me.
The woman moved her briefcase out of our way and gave us a hard stare but we ignored her. “Hi Angel,” I said.
He looked back at us, confused. “What?”
“It’s me, Wavie,” I said. “Spring beauty?”
Angel’s lips curved into a small smile. “That’s right.” He looked past us to Samantha Rose. “She here to say I’m crazy?”
I shook my head. “No, for me. I’m sorry she called and turned you in.”
“I was a lawyer once.”
His eyes were weak and watery, and his face was pink from where the beard had kept the sun off his skin. He looked a lot less scary.
Samantha Rose glared at us from across the lobby and waved us back. I turned my shoulders so I wouldn’t have to see her.
Angel’s shoulders slumped. “I tried to help people, I did.” He looked toward Samantha Rose. “I helped her sister but not her.”
“That’s right. You helped my mama.”
“I promised her daddy the girls would stay together.” He looked at me. “I did try! But your daddy wanted to keep her.”
I patted his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” he said, his voice rising.
The sharp-eyed attorney glared at us. “Shhhh.”
Angel shook his head. “I should have told Hap that he couldn’t have her. But he was so mean.” He looked at me and whispered, “Your daddy was a bad man.”
“I’ve heard that.” I glared at Samantha Rose. “She’s just like him.”
“Well, her daddy was a nice one—poor old Marley. I wish I hadn’t let him down.”
I frowned at Gilbert. This was another conversation that was going in circles.
Angel focused on Samantha Rose again. “You don’t have to always be so mean!” he yelled at her. His voiced echoed off the marble floors.
The attorney put her phone in her purse and looked at him. “That’s enough. When we go inside, you have to stay calm.”
“If they let him go home, we can help him,” Gilbert said. “In Convict Holler, that is.”
Camille nodded and the attorney smiled like we were toddlers being cute. “I’m sure you will.”
Mrs. Chipman opened the door and waved to us. “We’ll be going in front of the judge soon. Come on in.”
Camille and Gilbert exchanged looks.
“What?” I whispered.
“We’ll see you inside in a second,” Camille said.
Samantha Rose and the rest of the ladies had already moved to follow Mrs. Chipman inside. I looked at Camille and Gilbert, confused. “You’re not coming?” I asked, but they were already closing the door. I didn’t think I could feel any worse or be any more scared, but apparently I could.
Mrs. Chipman led the way down the aisle and we squeezed together on a wooden bench.
The minutes ticked by and with every one of them, my heart sank a little lower. Finally, the judge rapped his gavel on the podium. “Next!”
Mrs. Chipman stood and walked to the front.
“Your Honor, we’re here today to establish guardianship for a minor child, Wavie Boncil Conley,” Mrs. Chipman said.
I heard the doors a
t the back of the courtroom open and a low murmuring.
A voice yelled from the back, “Stop!”
The judge scowled and leaned in his chair to look past Mrs. Chipman.
Turning to look back across the rows, I craned my neck to get a better view. I thought I caught the top of Camille’s head. Everyone near us swung around and stared at the back of the room.
“Sit down,” Samantha Rose whispered. She pulled the back of my T-shirt, but I jerked away from her.
Camille and Gilbert were standing in the back of the room. Next to them, wearing nervous smiles, were two people I’d only seen in worn photographs but had thought about every day for months. They were a little older, but I’d have recognized them anywhere—Anita and John Bowman.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I’d never been inside a judge’s chambers. In fact, until the moment I’d been asked to join Judge Harders in his, I didn’t even know there was such a thing. I sat on his black leather couch between Camille and Gilbert and tried very hard not to stare at the Bowmans. It was hard to do because they were seriously shiny.
After Gilbert’s outburst, everyone had tried to get the story at once. These people were who? They adopted who and when? Gilbert had done what?
I still couldn’t believe it. I leaned into him with my shoulder. “You really called them?” I whispered.
Gilbert nodded. “Yep! Turns out they figured it was you who was writing all along. They were trying to take it slow, to give you space. I told them they were about to be a day late and a dollar short.”
“These people can’t barge in here expecting to get my niece!” Samantha Rose yelled. “It’s outrageous!”
Judge Harders banged his desk with his hand. “I need everyone to be quiet!” He pointed to Samantha Rose. “Ma’am, in five words or less, please tell me who you are.”
Samantha Rose held up a finger with each word that she spat. “I’m. The. Aunt. Wants. Guardianship.” She glared at the Bowmans.
The judge pointed to John Bowman. “And who are you?”
John Bowman smiled at me. “My wife and I attempted to adopt Wavie as an infant.”
Hope in the Holler Page 14
