I moved a few boxes out of the way so I could get to the cabinet. I had to know why it was all covered up. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the blanket to the side.
“That’s it?” I whispered to myself.
The cabinet was like the ones in the living room with the lit-up dolls, but this one had rows of carved wooden animals. There was a whole shelf of animals you’d see on a farm. Another one had animals from the jungle. Cats had their own shelf and dogs filled two. Why was she covering these up?
I didn’t have too much time to be stunned because I heard a car door slam. They hadn’t been gone an hour. More like a few minutes. I turned to leave, but the blanket fell down.
“Shoot!” I said. I wouldn’t be able to get that back on. I locked the door and closed it behind me just as they were walking up the sidewalk.
“I can’t believe I forgot my pocketbook. You girls help me find it, all right?” I heard Grandma say.
I headed for the stairs, but Grandma looked up, and saw me in front of the off-limits room. I felt so guilty I couldn’t help but stare at the shiny wood floor.
Grandma dashed up those stairs. Then Mama followed her, and Charlene and Ruthie tore after them. I thought about running out the front door, but I stood frozen in the same spot. Grandma went right to the door and twisted the knob. It opened.
Rats. I’d forgotten to lock it. Not that it mattered. She knew just from looking at me that I’d gone in. I thought I might throw up.
Grandma stood outside the room, turning red and shaking. She was a firework waiting for the flame to race down the wick so she could explode.
And she did. “Brenda Anderson, I made it clear that you were not to go in this room. But you went in anyway. And now you’ve gone in again! You just don’t listen. I ought to …” But Grandma was so upset she couldn’t even think of what horrible thing she ought to do to me.
“What are all those pictures with the animals?” My brain worked in reverse, opening my mouth by mistake when it should be clamped shut. “I saw one of you with a horse. And one with a goat. I thought you hated animals. You must have a hundred animal statues in that cabinet.”
Mama flashed me a scary look. “Brenda, you keep quiet and tell Grandma you’re sorry.”
But Grandma held out her hand. “No, no, Cecelia. Since Brenda is so interested, Brenda should know. She should know life isn’t always about what you want or what you like.”
Mama closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. Ruthie grabbed on to her leg.
“Grandma, I’m sorry … I—”
She cut me off. “You want to know about that goat in the picture? I’ll tell you about that goat. I grew up during the Great Depression,” Grandma said, walking down the hall with her hands behind her back. “Do they teach you about that at school? Food was scarce. Money too. Sometimes we got only one meal a day.” She turned around to look at me, and held up one finger. “No ice cream sundaes for us.”
We all stood there. I wished she had just sent me to my room.
Grandma started pacing again. Her voice was deep and low. “My father was the vet in town. But no one else had any money either. He got paid with scraps of material or vegetables, sometimes a chicken. Once a baby goat.” Grandma stopped to take a deep breath. Her voice was running out of hate. “I thought Daddy had brought it home for my birthday. I thought that baby goat was going to be my pet. But it wasn’t.” Now she almost sounded like she was a little girl again. “A few months later when that goat got fat, it became dinner.” She stopped to take a shaky breath “And when I had to marry your grandfather, animals didn’t fit in my life anymore.”
I think she forgot we were there, because her eyes were fixed on something in the room. After a few minutes, she walked downstairs. The back door slammed.
We were all quiet.
Finally I looked at Mama and went back into the open room, dark and dusty like a mummy’s tomb that had just been opened. Charlene and Ruthie followed me. We walked around slowly, looking at all the pictures, not even talking.
“That’s me!” Ruthie said, jumping up and pointing to the photo of Grandma on the pony. She stood on her tippy-toes, trying to get a better look.
“That’s Grandma, honey,” Mama said.
I stared at another picture of Grandma; this time she was holding a chicken. “Seems like she liked animals a long time ago,” I said. “So why not now?”
Mama sank down on a big orange couch. She rested her head in her hands and then looked up. “Grandma did love animals. She went out with her daddy on his vet calls. She wanted to be an animal doctor like him one day.” Mama forced a wobbly smile. “She was such a daddy’s girl, always working out in the barn with him.”
I squeezed my hands around my ribs. “She was kind of like a tomboy? Like me?” My heart kicked up a notch.
Mama nodded. “Yes, she was. She doesn’t talk about it now, but my grandma Davidson would tell me stories. Your grandma was always stubborn. Everyone laughed when she told them her dreams because she was a girl and girls weren’t vets. But she didn’t care—she was going to do it.”
I studied the picture. “Why didn’t she become one?”
Mama pulled a blanket over her lap and rubbed the fringe between her fingers. “It was a different world back then. And times were tough, like Grandma said. Grandma was a beautiful girl. Just like you all.” She blew out a long breath, ruffling her bangs. “Her mama said she should forget about being a vet and find herself a rich husband.”
Charlene took a picture off the wall to look at it closer. “And did she?”
Mama shook her head. “Not right away. When she was seventeen, her mother made her quit showing the farm animals at the fair and join the beauty pageant instead. She won the county fair title and went on to the state competition. She won the state title the next year when she was eighteen. She thought she could use the prize money toward school, toward being a vet.” Mama sighed.
“So what happened?” Charlene asked.
“Her daddy couldn’t keep up with the bills anymore. And the bank was ready to take his house and his business. This happened to a lot of people during the depression. It was a very scary time.” Mama stared off at nothing.
“Did they lose the house and everything?” I asked.
Mama gave me a tight smile and shook her head. “The man who owned the bank said he’d be interested in investing in the business. But only if he was related to the family.”
“Was he?” Charlene cocked her head.
“Once he married Grandma he was.”
The polished tips of Charlene’s fingers flew to her mouth. “Grandma had to marry the banker? You mean Grandpa? Did she love him?” Her lips turned down in a horrified frown.
Mama shrugged. “She didn’t really know him. And as you can see in the pictures, he was much older. But her marriage saved the family.”
“Grandma told you this?” Charlene asked.
Mama laughed. “No, my grandma Davidson did, before she died.” Mama shivered and pulled the blanket around her. “My mother wouldn’t admit her life wasn’t what she wanted. And she didn’t want to upset her father and let him know she wasn’t happy.”
“Why didn’t she just work with her daddy and be a vet after she got married?” I sat down in a chair across from Mama, feeling a little shaky. I actually felt bad for Grandma.
“Your grandpa wouldn’t allow that. He had this big house for her to take care of. And he wanted to start a family.”
I stared at the pictures of little Ruthie-Grandma and all those animals. “Why didn’t she just get a whole bunch of pets? That’s what I would’ve done.”
“Grandpa thought animals were only good for being hunted and for eating.”
“But still, not even a dog or a cat?”
Mama sighed. “Oh, Chip. You ask more questions than a newspaper reporter. Sometimes when you lose something you love, it’s better not to think of it at all.” Her voice got quiet. “It just hurts so darn much, you p
ush it right out of your mind so you don’t think about what’s gone.” She twisted her fingers in her lap and spun her wedding ring around and around on her finger. “That’s what Grandma did with animals and those dreams of hers. Tucked ’em away.”
I swallowed hard and watched to see if Mama was going to cry. But she stood up. “Let’s go, girls.”
I stopped and looked back in the room. “Wait. That explains why she doesn’t like animals, but why didn’t she like Daddy?”
Charlene glared at me. “Hush, Chip!”
“It’s Brenda,” I protested. “I’m Brenda, now.”
Charlene rolled her eyes. “Chip suits you way more than Brenda.”
Mama ran a hand through her hair and looked at the floor, not even paying attention to our squabbling. “Grandma didn’t like Daddy because she had big dreams for me. All the big dreams she had wanted for herself.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, like she was trying to shake an idea away. “And when I got married so young, she blamed your daddy. But we were getting ready for Charlene,” she said slowly, opening her eyes, “and we wanted to get married real fast.” She was looking at Charlene while she said this.
Charlene’s eyes got real wide. “What? You never told me.”
Mama reached her hand out toward her. “Charlene—”
“I’ll be in my room.” She pushed her way out the door to leave.
Mama stood, frozen, and bit her knuckle.
I tugged on Mama’s shirt. “Why is she so upset? Grandma likes her. If you got married getting ready for Charlene, shouldn’t she be mad at Charlene instead of me?” I asked.
Mama rubbed her eyes. “She’s not mad at you, Brenda. She’s hard on you because you are just like your father. And it was easier to be angry with him than it was with me. And maybe she sees some of herself in you. The way she used to be when she was little. Maybe it reminds her of everything she gave up.”
I stomped my foot. “It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything. I finally have a grandma and she is nothing at all like a grandma should be.”
Mama rubbed my back. “You’ve gotta love people for who they are, even if they aren’t what you were hoping for.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Doesn’t seem like Grandma knows that.”
She looked at me like she was going to say something. Then she sighed. “I have to go check on Charlene.”
Ruthie chased after Mama, and I sank down onto the stair, wishing I’d just gone out for ice cream instead of unlocking all this trouble.
HALF AN HOUR LATER, GRANDMA CAME BACK INSIDE and went into her bedroom.
She didn’t come out of her room for the rest of the night. Mama went out to buy us ice cream from the grocery store, and we ate it in front of the TV in the family room. No one said much, and it was all my fault.
I stirred the ice cream in my bowl until it turned into soup. I wished I hadn’t snooped and learned the truth about all those pictures. Because now I felt mad at her and sorry for her. And those two feelings were hard to feel at the same time.
I headed for bed early, and Charlene caught up to me. She grabbed my arm. “You are ruining everything. Stop butting heads with Grandma. Are you trying to make things worse? It’s only upsetting Mama,” she hissed.
“I’m trying to fit in, Charlene.”
“Try harder.” She let go of me and marched back downstairs.
And how was I supposed to do that? I crawled into bed and kept thinking about the pictures and those carved animals. I set Deady Freddy next to me in bed and stared at the ceiling. “Grandma doesn’t like me because I remind her of the way she used to be,” I whispered to Freddy. “Learning more about Grandma hadn’t helped at all.” I stroked his feathers as I lay there, running things through my head. My only chance to get along with Grandma was to show her that I was like her now. I had to do whatever it took to be a good beauty queen. I imagined eating cheesecake off fancy plates and all of us girls hanging our dresses with Mama’s old gowns in Grandma’s closet. This had to work.
chapter sixteen
THE NEXT MORNING, I FOUND MISS VERNIE INSIDE AT her dining room table with Dana and Karen.
“Miss Vernie, you need to put a whole bunch of makeup on me and make me look totally different. Like a beauty queen.”
“Looking totally different isn’t the key, Brenda. You want to be yourself onstage.” Miss Vernie pinched together a pair of tweezers as she and Karen sat at her dining room table sorting through her makeup supplies.
No, I don’t, I thought. I needed a whole new look. I needed to be Brand-New Brenda.
“You don’t seem like the makeup type,” Dana said.
“Well, I’m going to be.”
“Me too. I love makeup,” Karen said, inspecting the different colors of eye shadow laid out in front of her.
Miss Vernie patted the chair next to her. “Sit down, Brenda. Just a few touches here and there will do the trick.” A feathery brush tickled my eyelids. Then she coated my eyelashes with mascara.
“Part your lips,” Miss Vernie said.
I did, and she slicked on a coat of lipstick. I smacked my lips together. “Yuck, it tastes waxy. And my eyes feel itchy.”
“You’re just not used to it.” Miss Vernie handed me a mirror. “What do you think?”
I looked at myself. “I don’t look that different.”
“Like I said, it’s just a touch of makeup to bring out the beauty that’s already there.”
“But I thought I’d look totally different.” I tracked my fingers over the pink mark on my cheek. “And shouldn’t we cover this up? It’s embarrassing.”
Miss Vernie set down a tube of lipstick. “We can if that makes you feel more comfortable, Brenda.”
“It will.”
“Then I’ll bring foundation for you on the day of the pageant.” Miss Vernie smoothed the back of my head.
“What do you think we should do with our hair?” Karen asked, flipping through a magazine.
“Most girls wear it down. But you wear it however you like. I’ve said it before: the key is being yourself.”
Silently I disagreed.
“This is my only look.” Dana patted her hair in the mirror.
“And it’s beautiful on you,” Miss Vernie told her.
“I guess I’ll wear my hair down,” Karen said. “And I’m going to use some lemon juice so it’ll be nice and bright. Mom’s going to take me to the salon for a new cut. What about you, Brenda?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll put it in a braid.”
Karen grabbed my shoulders. “No way. You need a style—not just straight—if you want to win.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I don’t have enough money left.”
“I’ll cut it for you. One of my Teen Beat magazines had exact instructions on how to cut your hair just like Farrah Fawcett from Charlie’s Angels does, with the big feather flips. I’ve practiced on my dolls. I’ll bring the magazine and some scissors tomorrow. Please?” She folded her hands like she was begging.
“Okay.” Charlene had her hair cut with big feather flips. Maybe having the same haircut as a TV star could help Brand-New Brenda be a beauty queen.
THE NEXT MORNING, I MET KAREN AND DANA EARLY on Miss Vernie’s back porch. Karen draped a towel around my shoulders, then flipped open her magazine. “Okay, first I’m supposed to pull it up and run my fingers through it.” She fluffed my hair and pulled it in all sorts of directions. Dana was snickering at the table, reading her magazine.
Karen held the scissors in the air and finally made her first snip at the back of my head. A thick clump of my honey-colored hair fluttered to the floor.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” I asked. I looked for Miss Vernie to speak up, but she was outside in her garden. So I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. The metal blades sliced against each other as Karen cut another section. Karen’s breath caught.
Dana coughed and her chair scraped along the floor, and I opened my eyes and saw her han
d fly to her mouth. “It’ll grow back,” Dana whispered.
I reached up to touch my hair. I grabbed a mirror.
“It looks good,” Karen said, trying to convince us both.
“This does not look like the magazine.” My voice was shaky. The sides were uneven and did not fold back into feathery wings. It just looked chopped up.
Karen put her hand on her hip. “Well, of course not. Not yet. We need to use a curling iron. I brought one. Let’s go to the bathroom and plug it in.”
We went inside. We usually used Miss Vernie’s little bathroom off her kitchen, but that one didn’t have an outlet. This time, we walked past her bedroom to the big bathroom with a counter and giant mirror. “Should we ask first?” I said, not daring to look in the mirror.
“Nah, she knows we’re working on your hair. She won’t mind if we’re in here.” Karen tapped her fingers against the metal barrel of the curling iron, waiting for it to heat up. “There. Now let’s see what we can do.”
She closed the pink toilet lid and pushed me down on it. Then she started sliding sections of hair under the clamp of the barrel, leaving big sausage curls behind.
Dana’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know much about white girls’ hair, but that don’t look right.” She left the bathroom.
Karen chewed on her lip. She did that a lot now that she wasn’t eating as much. She put in a few more curls while I gripped the cold toilet seat, pressing my knees together.
Dana came back holding a crown.
“What is that?” Karen asked, setting down the curling iron.
“It’s a beauty pageant crown,” I whispered. I stood up and took it from Dana. I set it on my head. Even with the horrible haircut I could imagine myself walking and waving with a sparkly crown on my head. Junior Miss Dogwood, 1977. I closed my eyes and smiled.
“Miss Vernie was Miss North Carolina 1939!” Dana said.
School of Charm Page 12
