Just Claire (4 page)

S
tretching her arms
, ClaireLee yawned in bed. A moist tongue slurped her wrist. Laddie dog sat at attention, boring his hazel eyes right through her. She whispered, “What?” He took to whining and danced in place.
Time to let out the dog.

The sun's rays streaked through the kitchen curtains. Her job of stripping her parents' bed caught her attention from where she lay. Dark sheets of sorrow made ClaireLee sulk, despite the cheery light.
Mama's gone, and I don't know how she's doing.
Above the tiny kitchen table, the clock showed school was in one hour.

ClaireLee covered her head with her pillow. “I. Don't. Care.”

However, she had to take care of Laddie. She forced her legs over the side of the bed, opened the door for her dog, and then crawled under the covers.

After dozing, someone shook her. “ClaireLee, we'll be late for school.” Grayson. He stared at her with wrinkled brows, traces of sleep in the corners of his lids.

Today, ClaireLee no longer felt like a thirteen-year-old. She was a little girl who'd flunked way back in third grade. Unfortunately for ClaireLee, the truth came out on her first day at the new school.

Everyone in class knows.

I can't face them.

Stomach empty, ClaireLee planted bare feet on an icy floor. “I don't want to go today. I still need to wash and dry Mama's sheets.”
A good enough reason, in case anyone asks.

“But.” Grayson cupped his hands together.

After banking the few glowing coals in the stove, she added wood. “This will warm the place.” Shivering, she reached into her clothes box marked “Girls.” ClaireLee fished around for socks, pulled out a pair, and shoved them on her feet.

“Please, ClaireLee, I want to go to school and play with my new friend.” Grayson's face sagged.

“No.” Retrieving her radio from under her pillow, she dropped it into her bathrobe pocket. She yawned extra long, while she puttered around the kitchen. “I'm too tired, and I have a lot of work.”

Sighing, Grayson was laying his chin on his crossed arms at the table. She patted his shoulder. “Sorry, buddy.” Careful not to make noise, she began the job of cooking everyone's favorite breakfast: biscuits and syrup.

Humming softly to the music, she searched for Mama's cookbook to make biscuits. But in their hurry to leave the Oregon house, they must have left it on the pantry counter. “Fiddlesticks. How am I supposed to make the biscuits?”

How long will you be gone, Mama?
Remembering her morning prayers, ClaireLee folded her hands.
Please, God, bring Mama back to us today. We need her. In Jesus's name, I ask. Amen.

Tugging on ClaireLee's robe, Grayson said, “I pray for Mama, too.” She bent on one knee and hugged him real tight. Her ribs heaved with a sob, but she grew tired of crying.

Standing, ClaireLee stared at the mixing bowl and bag of flour she had set on the counter moments ago. “I know what I'll do.” She motioned to Grayson. “Get me the pencil and piece of paper.”

Finally, he came back with a puckered brow and gave them to her. “Shouldn't I get the kids up for school?”

“We'll go tomorrow.” She wrote out the ingredients—this was the easy part.
Now how much salt and lard?
After giving it her best guess, she got to work. In no time at all, she finished the biscuits, still humming along with the songs floating from her pocket.

Grayson helped ClaireLee place the doughy lumps into the cast-iron pan, and with a thump, she shoved the whole thing into the hot oven.
How will the biscuits taste?

About making the syrup, she remembered it easily enough, so she added sugar to the boiling water. Before she knew it, a wheat aroma filled the air to add to the sweet steam rising in a syrupy pan. Her mouth watered in anticipation of the meal. Lolly and then Liam staggered to the table with bed heads, yawns, and a scratch here and there to their skin.

At first slumped at the table, Liam now watched the clock. He shot her a fierce scowl. “Why didn't you get us up for school?”

“ClaireLee doesn't want to go,” Grayson said. “Can't we boys still go?”

Lolly repeated the same words for the second morning, “When's Mama comin' back?”

Struggling with the heavy skillet, ClaireLee set the crusty-topped biscuits on the table with a thud. A plume of steam caused her mouth to water, again, and she stared at her siblings. “I slept in. No, you can't go late, and I sure don't know when we'll see Mama.”
Besides, I'll be laughingstock of the school—ClaireLee, the grade flunker.

Making a move to the table, Lolly said, “I'm hungry.”

Soon, the kitchen fell silent except for clanking utensils on dishes until the boys licked their sugar-sweet plates. ClaireLee pointed a finger. “Stop. You're not dogs.”

“
Woof.
” Grayson pawed at the table.

ClaireLee couldn't help but chuckle. “I'll make you sleep under the cabin porch with Laddie.”

“Yeah,” Liam said, “except you've been letting Laddie inside at night.” He sang over and over, “ClaireLee's a scaredy cat.”

Clutching her hands to keep from slugging him a good one, ClaireLee stood, ready to fight. “Don't call people names, Liam.”

“I can if I want.” He elbowed Grayson. “Let's hurry and clean off the table, so we can play cards.”

As Liam rose, he shifted his shoulders and pulled a face. ClaireLee swiped her hand toward his head, and he lurched from her reach.

Glaring, she said, “You brat.”

He giggled like a girl on the way to the bathroom and shut the door and the lock clacked. “You can't get me. You can't get me.”

Fingers to both temples, ClaireLee whispered, “You better pray Mama comes back soon. Or, I'll find a switch and whip your attitude right out of you.” Done with Liam acting like a bothersome fly, ClaireLee surveyed the messy kitchen. “Let's clean this up, guys. Did you hear, Liam? We need your help.”

Behind the bathroom door, he said, “Don't hit me.”

At the sink, she added soap to the running water. “Don't be a smart aleck, and I won't.”

Someone tugged on ClaireLee's shirt. Lolly. “Are you gonna spank Liam?”

ClaireLee tapped a finger to her lips. “No, I'm just threatening.” Although, it would be satisfying.

The bathroom door opened.
Aha. Here he comes.
The front door shut.

Everyone exchanged glances, and Lolly and Grayson's eyes grew as round as marble shooters. Grayson said, “We'll be good for you, ClaireLee—huh, Lolly?” Lolly sucked on her two plump fingers.

“I can't believe what he just did.” ClaireLee raised her hands in frustration. The littler kids bobbed their heads. She ran to the door, opened it, and stepped onto the porch. “Liam James, you better get your sorry self over here.” Getting angrier by the second, she funneled her hand around her mouth. “Do you hear me, mister?”

In response, Liam whistled two short tweets. It came from the direction of the last few crumbled cabins and beyond, into the woods. ClaireLee stomped her foot. “I'd like to kick him clear into Oregon.” She entered the cabin and slammed the door, making the windows rattle.

“Don't be mad.” Grayson leaned close to ClaireLee. “Mama needs to come home, huh, ClaireLee?” He fumbled with his pajama shirt button. “Do you think she's okay?”

What can I say to make him feel better?
“I think,” she said, releasing her lower lip from a hard bite, “Mama's going to be just fine. But the waiting until she comes is long.”

Surprising ClaireLee by steering her emotions in a different direction, Grayson threw his arms around her and squeezed. She gave Grayson her own hug and said, “We have to pray, and God will do the rest. Remember? This is what Mama always says.”

W
ith ClaireLee
almost done tidying the kitchen after breakfast, Lolly was drying the last drinking glass. Shattering, it had slipped from her fingers and fell. ClaireLee moved toward the mess, but a noise on the porch stopped her. Convinced Liam waited there, she tiptoed around the shards and flung open the door—
oh no, Belinda Cruz.

The big girl cocked her one good brow, leaning against the slats of the rail. “What're y'all doin'?”

In a slump of the shoulders, ClaireLee grew overwhelmed.
I can't do this. Not right now.
“You're supposed to be in school.”

Flashing her row of teeth, Belinda said, “You're supposed to be at school too.”

Still cranky from yesterday and the locker room disaster, ClaireLee lifted her eyes to the soot-stained ceiling. She meant it about taming Belinda, but she hadn't planned to begin this soon, or at the cabin.

It came to mind to be a nice hostess, just like Mama would, and ClaireLee stepped aside to let her in. “I needed to wash my mother's sheets and hang them out to dry today.”
And I can't face the kids in class, especially the Lavenders.

Moving toward the stove, Belinda warmed her hands. “Mrs. Reed said I could check on ya.”

ClaireLee's jaw tensed at the intrusion. “Because you're assigned to me?”

“Mrs. Reed might think so, but I like you, ClaireLee.” Now, she appeared to study the floor.

At the very thought, a snort gushed out of ClaireLee. “You have an odd way of showing it.”

“Let's you and me start over.” Belinda waved an arm. “To when I thought you were in fourth grade.”

“Nope. You figured since I'm short and all, I must be younger.”

“I'm sorry.” Belinda's forehead creased.

ClaireLee studied her not at all certain she could trust the girl.

Whimpering, Lolly pressed against ClaireLee and she said, “What's the matter, Lolly?” She reached behind her and pulled Lolly by the hand. “Belinda, are you even sorry you embarrassed me in the locker room?” A rush of tears stung. “Now everyone knows I was put back a grade, and Wendy thinks I'm stupid.”

“She
said
this?” Belinda's eyes grew round and then rounder. “I'll put Miss Curly Mop in her place, I do swear.”

Waving a hand, ClaireLee said, “Don't change the subject.”

From where he sat on the bed, Grayson spoke, his face pinched like a prune. “With all this glass on the floor, I don't think it's good for us to have company.”

“Right, Grayson,” ClaireLee said, “we're in a mess here.”

Belinda craned her neck, glancing around the cabin. “Where's the broom?”

Even though ClaireLee couldn't have been angrier at Belinda, she remembered her manners. “Behind you, in the corner. Hand me the dustpan.”

Wasting no time, Belinda gave her the pan and grabbed the broom and began sweeping. She hummed while she worked. ClaireLee followed her, ready to scoop the chunks and slivers.

With glass off the floor, ClaireLee asked Belinda, “How did you find us, anyway?”

“It's no secret your folks rented one of Big Red's cabins.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Piece a cake.” Now her eyes wandered over the kitchen and settled on two biscuits left in the skillet. “Got anything good to eat? I worked up a hunger coming over here.”

“Help yourself.” ClaireLee nodded. “Butter's on the counter.”
Maybe she'll leave after this.

Rubbing her eye, Lolly was sniveling. “I want Mama.”

Not willing to go through the conversation again, ClaireLee got an idea. “How about I get us a treat?”

Like a jumping jack toy, Lolly bobbed. “Yes.”

Kneeling, ClaireLee reached under the bed, tugged on the box labeled “girls,”
and dug beneath the clothes for— “Tada.” She waved a huge butterscotch candy on a stick.

“Where'd you get it?” Liam asked, standing in the open doorway.

ClaireLee pushed herself off her knee. “Decided to come back, I see.”

His mouth clamped shut.

“I forgive you, Liam, but don't do it again.” ClaireLee pointed at the door. “Let's go on the porch. The sun's shining, and we're having a picnic snack in the fresh air.”

Grayson clapped. “Goodie.”

Quick as a frog diving into a pond, Belinda shoved the last of the first biscuit into her mouth and licked each finger. For a moment, ClaireLee suppressed a giggle, but her lips stretched like they would split. She laughed out loud.
Belinda has her ways.

The kids wrestled on coats over pajamas. Stuffed bare-skin toes into various colored galoshes. Lolly's boots ended up on the wrong feet, and ClaireLee pulled them off and made the switch. She nabbed the ice pick from the drawer and gave it to Belinda. “For chopping.”

“Let me hold the goody.” Lolly hopped on her toes, fingers fidgeting. “Let me, let me.”

After ClaireLee handed over the sucker to Lolly, Liam shouted from the cabin next door, “Hurry, c'mon.”

“What are you guys doing over there?” ClaireLee heaved Lolly onto her hip. “This is not our porch.”

“Nobody lives here,” Liam said, “and this porch is humongous.”

ClaireLee filled her lungs with the scent of pine and fir. Her galoshes sloshed and slurped in the melting snow.
Why does Liam always try to take control?

Everybody settled on the wooden planks, with ClaireLee across from Liam. He folded his arms. “How come I didn't know you had this?”

“Let me see the sucker, Lolly.” She handed it back, and ClaireLee peeled off the paper.
This is a perfect time to bug Liam.
“I like having secrets.”
Now who's in charge?
Her lips tipped upward ever so slightly.

“Don't act like you're better than us just because you're the oldest.” Liam's jaw snapped like a turtle's.

“You're such a bossy brat, and don't forget I'm older than you.” She gave her head a faint shake, clicking her tongue.