Signed, Skye Harper (18 page)

And him: “I don’t give a damn, Jimmie.”

The restaurant grew busy, and waiters and waitresses ran around, taking orders and filling water glasses.

“You could help,” Doris said to me, but I pretended like I didn’t hear her.

“What does he want with her?” I squeezed Steve’s hand till he kissed my knuckles, each one, and said, “Relax,” but I could see he was just as nervous.

I kept thinking how in all my life I had never really even met Leon Simmons. I had only seen him as I came in for a shift and he left. I had watered the plants at his house. Kissed his son. Gone swimming in his pool (
almost
nekkid). Driven around in his motor home. But had never even said more than a hello to him.

And now Leon Simmons had locked himself in the freezer with my grandmother.
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175

?!

“He asked me to marry him,” Nanny said when she walked out of the freezer.

The kitchen went dead quiet.

Leon grinned.

“Dad?” Steve said.

“What are you looking at?” Nanny said. I closed my mouth.

Doris, who’d come in to see where the front-end manager was, let out a whoop. “What did you say? What did you say?” She was screaming.

“Perhaps,” Nanny said, and then she clapped for the workers’ attention. “Let’s get going! We have people to feed.”
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176

Here’s the Thing

Some stories have horrifying ends, even when there are seven gold medals.

Some end well. Like this one.

So I wasn’t about to ruin Nanny’s happiness by pulling out that letter from Momma.
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177

Hope

“He said”—Nanny drove one-handed toward home—“he had missed me all these years. That we were meant to be together. That some people are.”

Steve’s words. To me. “He did not.”

“He did.”

My face warmed up.

“You think it’s true?” I whispered the question. Hoping for both of us.

Nanny nodded. “I do.”

“And?”

“And he said he forgave me years ago, but that I had never forgiven myself.”

Warm night air blew into the car windows. The storm had passed us by, dropping only a smattering of rain.

The letter was still hidden away in my pocket.

We’d open it tomorrow.
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178

Truths

“Dear Winston,” Thelma read. “You will be dating your brother if Nanny marries Leon. And, as you know, that is against the law.”

“Don’t say that,” I said.

“Plus you may have to serve Denny up in a stew at the restaurant.”

“Stop it.” My voice came out slow and thick as Karo syrup. “That’s not true.”

Thelma thumped around my room on her back legs, even though the one was still in the cast. She waved the letter around with her front paws. “It’s my job to keep you honest.”

“May I take your order?” Mark Spitz said. He wore my apron, and the medals hanging from his neck blinded me.
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179

The Last Letter

I sat right up.

Thelma looked at me from the floor. Her cast kind of glowed in the moonlight.

I grabbed the letter from under my pillow and ran to Nanny’s room.

“Hey,” I said, poking her in the shoulder.

“Lions and tigers,” Nanny said opening her eyes. She cleared her throat. “What do you need, Winston girl?”

“There’s a letter here from Momma. It came today.”

Nanny sat up like she was a part of the Siegfried and Roy magic show. “What did it say?”

I sat on the side of her bed. “I haven’t read it.”
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180

But Not the End

Dear Mommy and Winston,

I just wanted to say thank you. And tell you I love you. And ask you to come out to California at Christmas time. My treat. I will buy the plane tickets, no motor home trips. Steve can come, too.

Mommy, you were there for me all my life.

And Winston, I realized I want to get to know you. Even if I am living my dream. Because guess what? A dream isn’t complete if a little girl isn’t there to share it with her mom.

Love,

Skye Harper
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It’s Never What You Think

Nanny held my hand.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said. “No, I wasn’t expecting that.”
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Well, Almost Never

Neither was I. Not in a million years.
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183

Promises

I was almost asleep when there came a tap at my window. “Winston,” Steve said.

I got up and tiptoed over. I parted the curtains, smiling.

“Hope it’s okay. I had to see you.”

I pressed my hand to the screen. “Hey.”

“Come outside. I have to show you something.”

Quiet as a girl and a dog with a cast on can be, me and Thelma hurried outside.

Steve sat on the front porch. He grabbed my hand, pulled me in the yard. “Look,” he said, and pointed at the full moon. An arch of white painted at the sky.

“A moonbow,” he said. “I’ve never seen one before, and I thought I should share it with you. You know, before our lives change. It means promises. Just like a rainbow.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. I breathed the words out.

Steve bent to kiss me.

“Y’all!” Nanny said. “Stop that!”

But this time, we didn’t.