Gone South (22 page)

Tish sighed. She wasn’t sure she could round up even a dozen friends in Noble.

She placed the percolator on the sideboard she’d bought at a yard sale years ago. Then she stashed the scarf and gloves in her rattan étagère before reaching for the manila envelope. She held it flat in her palms like a little boy carrying a ring-bearer’s pillow and made her way up the stairs to her office, where her scanner waited. She would stay up for hours if she had to, scanning the letters and searching them for clues to the past.

It had been at least half an hour since Mel had heard water running in the upstairs bathroom, and she hadn’t heard the computer chair rolling around after that. Tish was probably in bed by now, so it was safe to come out. About time too. Mel was so hungry she hardly cared if Tish popped out of hiding and wanted to know what was going on.

Not that Mel had done anything wrong. She hadn’t. But if she had to explain, she would cry.

She tiptoed to the door and turned the knob slowly, slowly, trying to take the noise out of the clicking of the latch. Not too bad. But then the hinges creaked like crazy.

She held her breath for a long time and then started breathing again. She
opened the door the rest of the way and tiptoed into the hall. All the lights were out so she walked into the living room.

Out of nowhere, it hit her again. Darren had looked at her like she was a criminal, not a woman to fall in love with. He’d called her “kid” like he was the grown-up and she wasn’t. He thought she was too young and stupid and criminal for him.

She had to stop thinking about it. Maybe after she’d had something to eat.

She walked quietly into the kitchen. The fridge was a paradise of food, but she had to find something she didn’t have to nuke. The
ding-ding-ding
of the microwave might wake Tish.

Settling on yogurt, a banana, an orange, a PBJ sandwich, chocolate milk, and cookies, Mel carried everything back to the bedroom. It took two trips, scurrying around in the night like a sneaky little mouse. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she ate every bite.

“Thanks, Tish,” Mel whispered, raising the last of the milk in a toast. “You’re awesome. And I’m really sorry about smoking in my room. And screaming at you and everything.”

Someday, she would get better about apologizing out loud.

She stuffed the fruit peelings into the yogurt cup, tiptoed back to the kitchen, and put everything in the trash. After rinsing her glass and leaving it in the sink, she walked into the bathroom.

It was the coolest bathroom ever, with a claw-foot tub and a medicine cabinet that looked about a hundred years old. It was also cool because all the toiletries from Target reminded her again how awesome Tish was. She’d bought them without squawking about the cost.

Mel pressed her lips together, hard, so she wouldn’t cry. Nobody had ever been that sweet to her before. Nobody but Grandpa John.

He might not approve of her crazy plan.

He would like Darren, though. Darren was what Grandpa John would call a stand-up guy. But a stand-up guy wouldn’t fall in love with the girl who’d been walking down the sidewalk in thrift-store clothes, who’d been camping out at the park. He’d been sweet to her, but his eyes had been missing the spark that said he was interested even if she wasn’t exactly a model citizen.

Next time she ran into him, she had to look good. She’d been working on her plan to get some of her own clothes back. Except for some details, she nearly had it worked out.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” she whispered, “help me do this.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to get into her mom’s skin. Into her mom’s head. Her way of thinking, her way of moving. Even her way of breathing fast and shallow because she was on edge, all the time.

Mel opened her eyes and threw herself into the role. The way Mom always tilted her head when she wanted to ask a favor. The way she smiled, her eyes so big and innocent that you could almost forget the way she treated you sometimes.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” she said softly. “Be a sweetheart and do me a favor.”

Mel shook her head. That was all wrong. It was too whispery.

She cleared her throat and tried again, putting some volume into it. “Hey, baby.”

Now she was too loud. She couldn’t risk waking Tish.

But she’d never get it right if she couldn’t say it out loud. She’d have to wait until she was home alone, or she’d have to go somewhere private to practice, but then she’d need an excuse for being gone.

She wished Tish would find a job in a hurry so she wouldn’t always be hanging around the house.

No, that was wrong. Mel made a face at her reflection in the wavy old mirror. She was the one who needed a job, ASAP. She couldn’t keep mooching.

But she didn’t even have transportation. She’d be limited to jobs within walking distance—in Noble, where everybody knew her and nobody trusted her.

“Help me figure it out, Grandpa John,” she whispered.

This time, she couldn’t imagine his answer floating down from heaven. He was too far away. She was on her own.

Seated cross-legged on the garage floor and petting Daisy, Mel looked up at Calv, who was leaning over the Chevelle’s engine. “Where’s George?”

“At church.”

“Why aren’t you at church?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Why aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not a churchy kind of person.”

She’d started the morning with a fierce headache from her crying jag, but it might turn out to be a pretty good day if she could find a private place to nail down the details of her plan. The house was no good because Tish was there, doing something on her computer upstairs, and the garage was no good because Calv was there. He was fun to hang out with, though. Mel wasn’t exactly trying to avoid Tish, but things had been a little weird ever since that screaming match.

“Now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” Calv muttered at something under the hood.

“Why did George buy this car? It’s an old-person kind of vehicle.”

Calv let out a hoot that made Daisy twitch her ears. “Don’t tell him that. He’s already mighty sensitive about his greatly advanced age.”

“Yeah, I know he’s really old, but why does he like this kind of car?”

“It’s probably about the money. He buys things he knows he can sell at a good profit.”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I know that’s what he usually does, but I think he’s like in love with this car even if it’s all out of date and stupid looking.”

“Out of date? Stupid looking?” Calv faked a stern look, but she could tell he was about to bust out laughing. “This car’s a classic, and it ain’t stupid.”

Yes it was, compared to the Corvette’s pale blue paint and shiny chrome, not to mention the way it could move. She shut her eyes and tried to bring back one of those Sunday drives. Her hands on the wheel, her foot on the gas. Her grandpa in the passenger seat, laughing his head off and calling her Melanie Andretti. Once he’d explained who the Andrettis were, she’d thought it was a pretty cool compliment.

“Remember,” Calv said, “don’t say nothin’ bad about the car when ol’ George is around. You don’t like it, you don’t have to talk about it.”

She nodded. She didn’t want to hurt George’s feelings. “The car’s okay, really. I bet it’s fast.”

“You have no idea, young lady.” Calv frowned at her. “But you’d better not get any notions about taking an unauthorized test drive.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t have any designs on it.” Somebody might, though, and it would be safer in a garage with no windows, like her dad’s. “Matter of fact, I have an idea for keeping it safe.”

“What’s that?”

“Cover the windows,” she said. “The garage windows, I mean. Tape newspaper over them or something.”

Calv looked back and forth from the windows on one wall to the windows on the other. “Why? I like the light.”

“But car thieves could look in and see the car and want it. That’s what I think.”

“You think funny, sometimes. Nobody’s gonna poke around back here. It’s too far from the street, and there are all those trees and bushes between. I bet half the folks in town don’t know this garage is even here.”

“That’s good.” Daisy was tangled up in her leash, so Mel untangled her and gave her a hug. “It’s awful to lose something that means a lot to you.”

“Careful with Houdini there,” Calv said. “She’ll run off if you give her half a chance.”

“No, she only runs away from other places. Once she’s here, at this house, it’s where she wants to stay.” Mel pulled Daisy into her lap. “Do you think it’s because she lived here when she was a puppy?”

“Maybe, but I’m no expert on dogs. I don’t even like dogs, especially when they have issues.”

Mel leaned over Daisy, cuddling her. “I know,” she whispered in the dog’s ear. “Nobody likes me either. Because I have issues.”

Daisy let out a happy whimper and relaxed, like she’d decided to stay in Mel’s lap forever. Ruffling the curly white fur with her fingers, Mel looked around the garage. It was way bigger than most garages, but really old. More like a barn than a garage, it didn’t have a security system.

A barn! Mel held her breath, happy with her new idea. The barn she and Hayley had explored years ago when they were looking for a new hangout. It was out past the old vacant bank, on the outskirts of town.

She stood up, holding Daisy. “Can I take her for a walk? If she runs away, she’ll head straight back here, so I can’t lose her.”

Calv laughed. “Sure, take her for a walk. I don’t think George would mind. Keep a good grip on the leash, though.”

“Okay. I’ll take her down Main Street a ways. See you in a while.”

Mel carried the dog all the way to the sidewalk and set her down. “Heel,” she said, moving forward, but the leash went tight because Daisy wasn’t moving.

“Come on, Daisy, let’s go.” She tugged at the leash. “Heel.”

Daisy turned toward the house and gave a sad little moan, but she started walking in the right direction, her head low.

“Good dog! Good girl, Daisy. I’ll carry you if you get tired.”

Walking down the sidewalk, smelling spring in the air, Mel could almost pretend everything was going to be fine. She’d find a job somewhere, and she’d find a permanent place to live. Someday, she would have her own dog. It wasn’t the kind of goal the school counselors had always harped on, but it seemed reasonable.

Reaching Main, Mel turned to the right. Away from downtown and toward that old barn. If it was still abandoned and if it wasn’t falling down, it would be perfect.

Having showered and dressed, Tish checked the time and let out a sigh of relief. Too late to go to church. It was one thing to get the cold shoulder at the bank or the store, but she couldn’t handle the idea of being excluded at church too, especially now that she’d seen some of Nathan and Letitia’s good qualities revealed in the letters.

She sat at her computer desk to return the letters to the safety of their acid-free paper wrap. She was still groggy from her late night. It wasn’t just physical tiredness; it was emotional exhaustion too. She’d scanned every letter into her computer and enlarged each one for easier reading, but there was something endearingly human about the originals, passed down to a generation that rarely corresponded with pen and ink. Tish couldn’t recall the last time she’d written an actual letter, by hand. It was becoming a lost art.