Fire Girl Part 1 Page 9

  Grace cleared her throat. “Tommy, I don’t think your teacher would have minded if you would have told her she had something in her teeth. She might have appreciated you telling her. It’s good to be honest, most people aren’t.”

  I moved the pan I had filled onto the counter and started to fill another one.

  A knock sounded at the door and Tommy ran for it.

  The door flew open.

  A small girl in a pink dress and piggy tales ran through the door and straight to Grace.

  Grace cuddled her up and let out a light laugh. She put her hand to the little girl’s head. “Hey Lisa, how are you tonight? I’ve missed you.”

  Lisa kept her head against Grace’s hand. “Are your fingers working better today?”

  My heart fluttered.

  Grace lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Right as rain.”

  Lisa beamed at Grace. “Mommy and I said a prayer for you last night that your fingers would work today, and they do.” Her voice held an awed tone.

  Grace squeezed Lisa into her. “Prayers always work.”

  Lisa hugged Grace back and closed her eyes. “I love you, Grace.”

  Grace blinked. “I love you, too.”

  Lisa turned to Tommy. “Can you swing?”

  Tommy shook his head. “I have to help clean the kitchen.”

  I cleared my throat. “No, go ahead, Tommy. I got this covered.”

  Tommy turned to Grace in question.

  She waved him out. “I’ll help her.”

  Lisa laughed and her piggy tales bounced as she ran with Tommy out the door.

  I took a wash rag and started to wipe around stacks of mail on the counter. “You think it’s smart to give her false hopes that God is real and that He answers prayers?”

  Grace cocked an eyebrow. “I heard about your little incident with my brother in the hallway.”

  I flinched.

  “And don’t look surprised. Don’t think that everyone in this town doesn’t know everything about everyone else. If you spit, ten people will talk about it by the next day. I don’t know why you accosted him, but let’s be clear, I’m fine. You need to stay out of things that don’t concern you.”

  All of a sudden it dawned on me. “It’s not them ignoring you—it’s you ignoring them.”

  Grace’s penetrating glare deepened.

  “You think by shutting people out you’re protecting them.”

  Grace pressed her control and reared backward. She crashed into the table.

  I moved around the counter. “You said you didn’t need a friend, you didn’t need pity. So you shut people out of your life.”

  Grace’s brown eyes went back to the slits from the first day. She held her hand poised over the controls, ready to blast me over with the slightest touch. “You would never understand.”

  I wouldn’t understand? I wouldn’t understand? Had she MISSED the whole parents died, girl went crazy motif? The engagement picture on my grandparents’ wall cut into my brain like a fireman’s ax—severe and painful. “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.”

  Grace let out a laugh. “Listen, Fire Girl, my life is done. Done. But Zac—” She let out a soft word. It sounded like a curse. “All I can tell you is that you better help Zac with the music project and then stay out of our business.”

  I watched her face.

  Her features had contorted into something scary. "I'm serious." Her volume increased. "You better help him," she yelled.

  I paused into the kind of frozen statue I'd practiced when the therapist asked a question I didn't want to answer.

  Tears bubbled into her eyes. "Get out!"

  A sound came from the top of the stairs.

  Grace gripped the metal bars of the chair. “Get out.”

  A woman wearing a fuzzy pony tail at the nape of her neck stumbled down the stairs. “What’s the matter, Grace?” Her voice was frantic, worried, like she thought Grace ran into the street and she couldn’t find her.

  Grandma followed.

  “Nothing.” Grace’s voice went to a steel calm. “Nothing, Mama.”

  Grace’s mother turned fierce eyes to me. “What did you say to her?”

  I couldn’t speak.

  Grandma moved forward and placed a soft hand onto Grace’s forearm. “I’m sorry, Grace.” She grimaced at me. “Let’s go, Maddie.”

  Grace’s mom followed us. “Don’t bring that girl back. We don’t need help anymore, you got that?”

  I rushed backward out of the door and things got even worse.

  Chapter 10 Unwanted

  Okay, I wasn't as bad as Bella in Twilight. But, being completely in control of my coordination at all times, I'll admit, had never been one of my strong points. I tripped over my feet down the stairs.

  And then…he was there. And there was no resisting it—the strength of his arms, the warmth of his breath, the vulnerability in his eyes. For a brief moment, our eyes locked, and the walls weren't there. Stunned happiness and surprising laughter played through his gray. But, so quickly that later I would question if I'd even really seen it, his face registered that he’d met an enemy on the battlefield. “You.”

  I started to feel light-headed. “Let go!”

  Zac released me in one motion.

  I tumbled in a heap onto the hard gravel. Pain jarred into my back. “Ouch.”

  His hair fell into his eyes and the tooth around his neck looked like a fang reaching out to strike.

  “Come along, Maddie.” Grandma had slowed at the end of their driveway.

  Any pain in my body instantly gave way to anger. I jumped to my feet. "Thanks for breaking my fall."

  Zac’s mother emerged in the doorway, her pink robe tied around her and a few wiry curlers stuck up around her head. “Don’t come back here!”

  Zac narrowed his eyes at me and pasted on a counterfeit smile. "No problem."

  I whipped away from him, them, her--I rushed to Grandma's side.

  Grandma walked fast. “Do you even think about what your behavior does to other people?” She rounded the driveway and started toward home.

  Did I realize how my behavior affects others? I trotted to stay with her.

  The sound of yippy barking, the kind that only came from small dogs and always annoyed everyone, flew next to the row of bushes at my feet.

  “You don’t even see it.”

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I reached for it. “Are you really blaming me for what just happened?” I opened the text from Carrie.

  911!

  The barking got loud and tiny knives sunk into my flesh. I stumbled and fell forward. “Get off!”

  My phone went flying.

  “Rosie!” A gruff, scratchy voice called out. An older, grizzly-looking man emerged.

  I caught my balance, but the tiny dog teeth tore into bone. I shook my leg. “Get off!”

  “Maddie!” Grandma rushed back to me.

  The older man grabbed the dog by its middle. “Let go, Rosie!”

  The dog released my flesh.

  “Mr. Harris.” Grandma put her hand on her hip.

  The man clutched the dog to his chest. “You.” He wore overalls and had the longest, mangiest beard I had ever seen. An assortment of necklace looking things clanged around his neck, reminding me of some ancient medicine man.

  “Let me guess, you were up on that watch tower of yours while you let your mangy dog attack law abiding citizens.” Her tone was like a sharpened spear, one she wanted to plunge into his chest.

  I dabbed at the bite, surprised Grandma spoke so harshly to him.

  The dog kicked and squirmed.

  He racked out a cough. “Well, Star Haven.” The bearded man widened his overly tanned face. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see the true perpetrator on my property?”

  “Don’t you start in on me, Miles.” Her eyes moistened.

  I looked between them, even more confused.

  The man glanced back to me. “So, this is Frank’s da
ughter?” The way he said it, made it sound like he knew something he shouldn’t.

  Grandma stopped. “Best stay out of it.”

  He scowled at me. “She don’t look nothing like him.”

  Grandma took a step closer to Mr. Harris and her whole, petite body looked poised for a brawl. “How dare you!”

  Mr. Harris let out a low gurgle of a laugh.

  Grandma pulled back, and the sound of her slap echoed.

  ***

  I listened to the dry shuffle of our feet against the dusty road and tried to think about something else, besides the sound of the smack, and besides the accusing way Mr. Harris had looked at me like it had somehow been my fault.

  I stared at the broken cell phone. Crap. Carrie would not do well if she couldn’t get a hold of me.

  We rounded the corner of the house.

  “Mr. Harris has always been—hard to manage. If you wouldn’t mention that little interlude to your Grandpa, please.” Grandma’s voice came out extremely tired.

  “Oh.” Something about the whole thing struck me as hilarious. A small laugh escaped my lips. The irony that I would be keeping a secret for Grandma.

  Grandma stopped next to the pink lawn ornament perched in the middle of the yard. “I know that living with your Aunt Sylvie wasn’t easy on you.”

  My laughter instantly dried up.

  “Your grandfather and I thought it would be best for you to be part of her life.”

  I stepped back from her, my thoughts an array of sticky spaghetti inside my head. “What was best for me?”

  Grandma let out an exaggerated breath. “Maddie, what you don’t understand at this point in your life, is that choices are never as clear as they seem. We thought we were doing the right thing for you.”

  I shook my head. “The right thing?” They didn’t want me. It was that simple.

  Grandma pinched the arch of her nose. “And you couldn’t even be kind to poor Grace—”

  “What?” My emotions whiplashed.

  Grandma shook her head. “Poor, sweet Grace.”

  I ran for the stairs to the house. She could believe whatever she wanted. I didn’t need this. I had to get out of here. “Sweet is not what I would call her.”

  “Stop, Maddie. Just stop.”

  I stopped.

  “Maddie, do you want to be here?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “What does Grace mean?”

  Grandma didn’t answer.

  “Just tell me what it means.”

  Grandma sighed. “Well, I think, I mean, yes, that's it, it means God’s unmerited favor.”

  I thought about that, and I still didn’t get it.

  “It’s—it’s the difference between all we can do to go back to live with our Father in Heaven and what Christ’s atonement makes up for.”

  I didn’t get it even more.

  Grandma searched my face. “Maddie, do you remember when you were little and you’d follow me around like a little possum with its mother. You were so happy and cute and I’d call you my little partner in crime. You’d help me go all over and visit people and check in on them. Do you remember that?”

  Of course I remembered.

  “And we’d do laundry and take it out to the line and we’d crochet and we’d sweep and clean and cook and take the guys lunch. You helped me gather up all the utensils and napkins and took special care to pack olives. You loved olives.” Her voice had taken on a thoughtful tone. “Things were so different back then. You liked it. You did.”

  “I guess people disappoint you.”

  Grandma let out her breath. “I guess they do.” Her voice was quiet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that we disappointed you.”

  I couldn’t give into this. She had no idea what I’d done. She had no idea that I could never fit in here—ever. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “She has Huntington’s Chorea.”

  I paused. “I know.”

  “HD is another name for it.”

  I didn’t know why that particular documentary had stuck in my brain, but I remembered it. “I’ve heard of it.”

  Grandma touched at the sides of her hair and pushed back the bandana. “It’s usually something that is passed down through families, but they didn’t know about it. There’s no cure. There’s just experimental treatments. They don’t like to talk about it, so please don’t say anything. Beth told me tonight that Grace has her last appointment up north next week. If there’s been no change, there’s nothing else they can do.”

  “What do you mean, nothing they can do?”

  Grandma pinched the center of her nose. “It’s just a matter of when.”

  A heavy and hard and horrible dread flared inside of me. Everything was horrible. I threw my hands up. “I can’t.” I finished up the stairs.

  “Sweetie?”

  I pushed the door open. “I can't keep any more secrets.”

  ***

  I jumped into Chance’s truck with a vengeance. “It’s no secret I’m ticked at you.”

  Chance turned down his music. “What’s your problem?”

  I pushed his shoulder. “You’re my problem. You act like I assaulted him. Like I was the one who might have started the fight. Like I am at fault.” I pushed him. “And, then, when I expect you to step up and defend my honor you—”

  “Let me guess—it hurts. Kinda like getting a letter that said I would never see you again?” Chance threw the truck into reverse. “Man, yeah, I can see how you’d be upset.”

  All my rage evaporated. “You would bring that up.”

  Chance let out a hard laugh. “Yeah, you still haven’t explained that little episode of yours. And,” he said, pumping his eyebrows, “you are explosive. You can’t deny that.”

  “Am not.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  I tried not to pout. “You don’t understand.”

  Chance flew down the road.

  I saw Officer Justice in the side mirror.

  “Ya know what they say?”

  “Oh brother.”

  “Your attitude determines how far you get to the top.”

  “The saying is that your attitude determines your altitude.”

  “And you’re snooty!” Chance poked me in the shoulder. “If you want my opinion, part of your problem is you walk around like you’re superior to everyone else.”

  “I don’t want your opinion.” I grabbed his finger and squeezed. “Don’t poke me!”

  Chance yanked his hand away. “You should see the way you walk around, your chin up, all stuck-up like. Bonnie pointed it out to me the other day in the cafeteria.”

  Bonnie.

  “And I’ll poke you if I want to, especially if I want to make fun of you.” He obnoxiously poked my shoulder again. “Maddie and Zac, sittin’ in a tree . . .”

  I smacked at him. “Shut up!”

  He trigger laughed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought the two of you together, but he called for your number last night.”

  I tried to contain my embarrassment, an embarrassment I resented. I knew I blushed.

  “He told me how you ticked off his mom, left everyone all upset. Aww.” Chance let out a breath. “I’ll just wait for the cliff notes from this doomed romance.”

  The light changed and he gunned it forward, taking the turn with extra speed. “He wanted your number so he could talk to you about some project or something?” He wagged his eyebrows. “Sounds like a date.”

  I whacked him hard in the shoulder.

  He roared.

  “You’re the delusional one!”

  His truck lurched into the parking lot and he pounded into his brake. “K-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

  I threw open my door. “Shut up!”

  He busted around the truck. “So you’ll be there this afternoon, right?”

  I started for the school and, purposefully, ignored Officer Justice, who had slammed his cop door and jogged toward me. “I can’t.”

  Chance clamped a hand down onto my bicep
. “What part about the favorite cousin thing makes you think missing any of my games is ever allowed?”

  I evaluated his blue eyes. The familiarity of them had always betrayed his every emotion like one of those magic eight balls. A bubble of warmth filled me. He wanted me. He really did. I tugged my arm away. “I told Grandma I would hang with Gramps while she and Uncle Bill came.”

  Chance grinned. “You did?”

  The bell rang.

  “Good morning, Ms. Haven.” Officer Justice walked next to me.

  I ignored him.

  Chance laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Chance gave me a wink. “I knew ya still cared, Fire Girl.”

  That name. Vexed annoyance surged through me. I cocked my head to the side. "Really, you have to call me that?"

  Chance gave me a small nudge with his elbow. "I like it."

  “Whatever?”

  “Fire—what?” Officer Justice kept pace with us.

  Chance trigger laughed again. “It’s like you’re an anti-superhero.”

  We pushed into the front door. I rolled my eyes.

  “An anti-what?” Officer Justice asked.

  Chance poked me in the shoulder. “Yeah, and you’re in training for something big like Luke Skywalker.” He poked me, again. “Now you just need an Obiwan Kanobi.”

  ***

  I nipped at the cheese pizza Grandma left for us on TV trays and looked down at the recently activated phone.

  Grandpa sat heavily into his recliner. “Good heavens, you don’t need to babysit me, I feel the best I’ve felt in my entire life.”

  I continued to look at my phone. “That’s not up for debate.” I listened to the black and white western on TV. The sound blared out at a level that would frighten a small child.

  “Hmph. What are we watching, anyway?”

  I glanced up. “Some cowboy show, Grandma turned it on.”

  Grandpa leaned over. “Is that the phone Bill got ya?”

  “Yeah.”

  He picked up his milk. “I’m glad to see it’s getting some use, finally.” He took a sip. “Good movies, these ones. You see, Madds, the man always protects the women folk. Ya see that.” John Wayne stepped in front of a woman in a white dress. “Watch and learn.”

  I watched the villain go down with a couple of cap gun sounding shots.