Daisy Lane (29 page)

“Well, we’ll let you get back to your day,” Ava said. “Charlotte?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“If you want to ride to school with us tomorrow, you can.”

“No thanks,” Grace said. “I promised Tommy I’d help him with his homework on the bus.”

“Of course,” Ava said. “Well, you keep in touch and let us know when you and Charlotte can get together.”

“Thanks,” Grace said.

Grace was sure that if Charlotte could have stuck her tongue out at Grace without her mother seeing it she would have. Instead she smirked.

Grace went back inside and shut the door.

What just happened? And why?

Maggie looked up from her invoices to find Scott standing in the doorway to her office.

“You scared me,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Send any flowers lately?” he asked.

Maggie could feel her face flush with shame.

“I’d like to have my attorney present during questioning,” she said.

“Was that Hannah’s idea?” he asked. “Cause that had the Masked Muttcatcher written all over it.”

“At least no one was tased in the commission of the crime,” Maggie said.

“There is that,” Scott said. “What’s your dinner plan?”

“If you’ll recite your poem, I’ll cook,” she said.

“That would be a first,” he said.

“I’ll have you know that no one has ever perished from eating my cooking, including you.”

“What will you cook?”

“Poem first or it doesn’t matter.”

“Right here?”

“No, actually,” Maggie said. “You have to recite this poem from the top of a chair in my café, while it is open for business.”

“No way.”

“Then no supper.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll throw in a back rub,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“Supper, back rub, and a shared shower,” Maggie said. “And you know what that means.”

“‘Fireflies in the Garden,’” Scott said, “by Robert Frost.”

“In the café,” she said.

She stood and pushed him out of the doorway, through the bookstore, to the café side of the store.

There she pulled out a chair and said, “Attention, everyone. Today we have a special guest, Police Chief Scott Gordon. He’s going to recite a poem that he learned in, which grade?”

“Fifth grade,” he said.

“A poem he learned in the fifth grade,” Maggie said. “Please give him your undivided attention.”

Scott stepped up onto the chair and recited:

“Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,

And here on earth come emulating flies,

That though they never equal stars in size,

(And they were never really stars at heart)

Achieve at times a very star-like start.

Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.”

Maggie applauded and whistled, and the staff applauded politely, but the students and customers mostly looked at them both as if they were crazy. Maggie offered him her hand to help him down and he took it, but when he stepped down to the floor he went further, down on one knee. Maggie inhaled audibly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Mary Margaret Fitzpatrick,” he said.

“Please don’t,” Maggie said. “Not in here.”

“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wedded wife?”

“You’re going to get such a pinch,” she said.

“It’s worth it,” he said. “What’s it gonna be?”

“Oh, alright,” she said. “Though you’ll probably live to regret it.”

Scott stood up as the staff and customers applauded. He held out his arms and she walked into his embrace.

“You are the real star,” he whispered in her ear. “Everyone else is just a firefly.”

“I like it,” Grace said.

On the way to school she had read the short story Tommy had written for his creative writing class. Now they were walking to their lockers.

“Really?” he said.

“Yes, really,” Grace said. “It’s very good.”

“I was thinking about time travel, you know, like if we ever could do it, would it be controlled by scientists or would it become a business? Like only really rich people could afford to go as tourists to different periods in time.”

“I like your idea of having outposts for time travelers to go to,” Grace said. “To get oriented and get the right clothes and money before they go out and explore.”

“Yeah, and if you worked at one of the outposts it might be really dangerous, or just really boring most of the time, depending on what era you were in.”

“I liked the guy who asked every traveler if they had modern cigarettes,” Grace said.

“Yeah, but not carbonated drinks because they would explode in the time machine,” Tommy said. “You couldn’t bring anything volatile like that.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into it,” Grace said. “I think you’ll get an A.”

“I really like creative writing,” Tommy said. “I’m wondering if I really want to be a journalist. Ed says newspapers are disappearing, anyway.”

“Maybe you could do both,” Grace said.

Tommy and Grace parted at their lockers; Tommy off to the computer lab and Grace to the gym. The gym was not somewhere anyone could be invisible, but it was where the food was located this early in the day. Even though she had been fed well recently, old habits were hard to break. As she entered the gym, Grace took the orange offered to her by a girl named Tory from the Christians in Action Club, and to her, “God Bless you, Grace,” Grace replied, as she always did, “Thanks for the orange.”

In the gym a group of kids were playing basketball while others were listening to their music through ear buds attached to various tiny devices. Others were doing homework, gossiping, or sleeping. Grace wove in and out of the crowd, searching for the huge lime green handbag belonging to Stacey Rodefeffer.

Stacey was texting. Her long blonde hair was ironed straight. Her pink sweat pants hung from her pelvic bones and every rib was clearly outlined under her tiny pink zip-front hoodie. Around her neck were strung several delicate gold necklaces with flashing pendants: her initials, her zodiac sign, and a unicorn. Her shoes were four-inch platform sandals. Her toenails were painted pink to match her fingernails, which also sported tiny rainbows. She flicked her big blue eyes at Grace, nodded, and then moved her purse so Grace could sit down.

“‘Sup,” she said, but Grace knew she didn’t expect an answer.

While Stacey texted, she emitted a series of huffs, “as ifs,” and “yeah, rights.” Meanwhile Grace scanned the bleachers until she found Charlotte, sitting with the Beal twins, Sabine and Bianca.

From neighboring Pendleton, where their mother was an attorney and their father a property developer, the Beal twins were the most popular girls in Pine County Consolidated. Smart, cute and athletic, these two perky girls were widely admired and emulated, to the point that local vendors gave them free products in order to promote them to their fellow student body. They shared a white Range Rover, a bright yellow VW Beetle convertible, and their own Pilates studio. Their parents had recently purchased them a trip to London and tickets to the Olympics for their forthcoming summer birthday.

“Here, Cuz,” Stacey said to Grace as she handed her the pink plastic Barbie lunch box from within the vast confines of her lime green bag. “You can have my lunch.”

“Thanks,” said Grace.

She opened the box and slipped out the note Stacey’s mother had left for her daughter. It read, “Love you sweetie, Mommy.” Grace handed it to Stacey, who glanced at it, rolled her eyes, and dropped it down between the bleachers. As Grace transferred the turkey sandwich, chips and cupcake to her own backpack, she sensed someone approaching with the intent to loiter. A quick glance confirmed it was only Stacey’s best friend, Aleesha.

You could tell Aleesha wanted so badly to be the redheaded, baby blue track-suited version of Stacey, but she was pear-shaped, couldn’t bear to starve herself, and her single mother couldn’t afford the accessories. She and Stacey had been best friends since kindergarten, and Grace admired their continued loyalty.

“Hey, Grace,” she said. “I heard you’re Stacey’s cousin now. Who’s she texting?”

Grace shrugged as she closed her backpack.

“There’s the new kid,” Aleesha said. “Have you seen him?”

Grace watched as Rowan Gallaher climbed the bleachers to sit next to Charlotte, who beamed under his attention.

Grace just nodded while she peeled her Christian orange.

“His father is the new president at Eldridge. If we can pry Harlot’s hands off of him, he’d be a good replacement for Steve.”

Steve had been Stacey’s boyfriend before his parents had moved him away. His departure had been the catalyst for the eating disorder that fueled Stacey’s war against the unfairness of the world in its continued attempts to ruin her life. Grace reflected that it never occurred to Aleesha to want someone new for herself; she was more concerned that Stacey date someone highly desirable.

Aleesha took out her cosmetic bag and applied another layer to her already heavily painted face.

“I don’t know why they bothered to start him this week when there are only three more weeks of school,” Aleesha said. “Their house is on Lilac, on the park end, and they’re planning an addition. His mother doesn’t work, but she’s all in his father’s business all the time. My mom says everyone at Eldridge is excited to get someone who isn’t two hundred years old. She said he looks like a hot politician who cheats on his wife, which is probably why the wife keeps a close eye on him.”

Grace listened intently while Stacey’s wrung her cell phone back and forth in a flurry of texting.

“Charlotte and Jumbo are on the outs,” Aleesha said as she used a mirror and the pointy end of a safety pin to separate her black, gummy looking lashes.

“Why’s that?” Grace asked.

“He said something gross to Sabine and Bianca’s little sister that freaked her out and now he’s banned from the Beallery.”

Grace figured Charlotte wouldn’t hesitate to drop Jumbo for the Beals, especially now that Rowan was available to replace him.

“Do you think they did it?” Aleesha asked.

“Jumbo and Charlotte?” Grace asked.

“Uh huh,” Aleesha said. “She acts like Miss Perfect but my mom says her mom is an alley cat.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Grace said.

The Charlotte Grace used to know was saving herself for the love of her life. Grace could hardly picture Jumbo fulfilling that role. As far as Charlotte’s mother Ava was concerned, Grace had more than once witnessed a pretty passionate embrace between her and the bartender from the Rose and Thorn, who also just happened to be Ava’s brother-in-law Patrick. Scott had hung around the bed and breakfast for awhile, but Ava was never into him except to use him for favors. Those were the only men Grace had ever seen with Ava.

“I can’t imagine that oaf on top of me,” Aleesha said. “He’s so disgusting.”

The bell rang for home room. Stacey sighed and put her phone in her handbag.

“Who were you texting with?” Aleesha asked her.

“My mom,” Stacey said. “She wants me to go to this eating disorder camp. I told her I’d probably just learn all new bad habits and get hooked on hard drugs while I’m at it.”

“Your dad will never make you go.”

“I know that,” Stacey said. “The problem is I weigh 87 right now and our deal is 90. If I end this month below 90 the doctor might make me go.”

“Fishing weights,” Aleesha said. “Hide them in your hair.”

“They’re on to me,” Stacey said. “It’s a naked weigh-in at the doctor’s office and they pat me down.”

“Why don’t you just eat more?” Grace asked her.

Stacey and Aleesha rolled their eyes at each other.

“I heard Aunt Mamie smacked you,” Stacey said. “They’re all freaking out about it.”

“I don’t want to live with her,” Grace said.

“My dad’s trying to get them to put you in our house,” Stacey said. “My mom doesn’t want you but I said I didn’t mind. I’ll make you over and then you can hang out with us.”

“When’s that supposed to happen?” Grace asked.

“Tomorrow night,” Stacey said. “My mom’s going to have a pizza party to welcome you.”

“How lame,” Aleesha said.

“I know, right?” Stacey said.

“I don’t want to live with you,” Grace said. “I want to stay where I am.”

“I don’t think you get to decide,” Stacey said.

“You’d be lucky to live there,” Aleesha said. “I’d do it in a minute. Their house is awesome.”

“See you tomorrow night,” Stacey said.

Grace went to home room, feeling hostile toward Stacey even though she was grateful for her lunch. Stacey was probably eight inches taller yet they weighed approximately the same. She couldn’t figure out why starvation was the flag that Stacey had chosen to fly over her war with the world. Rationally, she had to know that ultimately she could only win if she died. And what would she have won, really? Control over life and death? We all had that, every moment of every day. Stacey was mad because her boyfriend moved away. So now she was getting back at the world by slowly killing herself? Grace didn’t understand it.