Witcha'be (23 page)

I frowned. “Lenni, I thought you couldn’t dream.”

“Oh, geez. I forgot to tell you.” She thumped her forehead with her palm. “One of Mom’s customers is a pharmacist. Mom told him about my dreaming problem when he came into the shop to get his wife an anniversary gift. He got her one of those stuffed kittens with rhinestone collars that can double as a bracelet. The ones I told you she picked up at auction.”

I gave Lenni a look, prompting her to get on with her story.

“Oh, right, dreams. Anyway, the pharmacist said for Mom to buy me a bottle of Vitamin B-complex, because sometimes dreamlessness is a sign of a deficiency.”

“It worked?” I asked, astonished.

“Can you believe it? Two years without one single dream then I pop a few over-the-counter vitamins and
poof
! I’m dreaming again. Bianca was happy about it, too.” Lenni drew her slender legs under her and blew a pink bubble.

“That’s amazing,” Mom said. “I knew vitamins were important, but, holy cow, dreamlessness? Who’d have thought?”

“I know, right?” Lenni shrugged.

“Here we are.” Mom rolled the van to a stop in front of the school. “See you after school.”

“Bye, Mom. Glad you’re feeling well this morning.”

“You and me both.”

“Bye, Madeline,” Lenni said as she hopped from the van.

Bianca’s hair, filled with morning sunshine, beckoned from the center of the schoolyard. “Bianca!” Lenni bellowed—her voice amplified through cupped hands.

Bianca whipped her head toward us. I waved as Lenni ran, helter-skelter, to meet her.

“So, Bianca, did you have a good time at church? Did your dad play the piano? Oh, Bianca, do you think he could teach me to play? You know how I’ve always wanted to play the piano. How much do you think he’d charge for lessons? And where would we practice? Do you think the church would let us use theirs? Maybe I could ask for a piano for my birthday—”

“Whoa!” Bianca grabbed handfuls of hair from her own temples, shaking it by the roots. “You’re making my head spin.”

Lenni looked at her, wide-eyed. “Oops, sorry. One question at a time?”

Bianca squinted. “That would help. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Lenni put her hands up and exhaled. “Did. You. Have. A. Good. Time. At. Church?” She bobbed her head with each syllable.

“Yeah, it was alright,” Bianca said. “And I know you’ve always wanted to learn to play piano. I think Dad’ll give you lessons. Probably for free.”

“Yay!” Lenni hugged Bianca and hopped up and down. Bianca turned her head toward me, hair bouncing, eyes bugged. I giggled and snapped a picture with my phone.

“Is that the bell?” Bianca craned her neck toward the school.

Lenni jerked her arms from around her shoulders. “I don’t hear anything,” she

said.

“That’s weird.” Bianca smoothed her hair and tightened the laces on her red velvet corset.

The bell rang, echoing loudly through the schoolyard.

“There it is,” Bianca said. “I must’ve had a premonition.”

“Don’t you need a job to get a
premonition
?” Lenni asked as we joined the swell of people entering the school.

Bianca shot me a glance.

“
Promotion
.” I mouthed the word Lenni had misunderstood.

Bianca cut her gaze to the ceiling and shook her head.

* * *

“Ugh, are you kidding?” Lenni muttered, standing on tiptoe. “It’s Friday. You’d think they’d have the decency to give us something edible.” She snarled her nose at the heap of mush in front of her.

“Why should Friday be any different?” I asked.

“I want you guys to stay over tonight,” Bianca said as the lunch lady deposited a jiggling mound of macaroni-and-something onto her tray.

Lenni looked at Bianca, dumbfounded. I was sure her expression mirrored mine.

“What’s the big deal? You’re both looking at me like I’ve asked you to drink blood, or eat this food, or something.” We walked to an empty table by the window and sat. “Well, are you going to stay the night with me or not?” she asked, her gaze flicking between us.

“Sure, I’d love to, I’m just surprised,” Lenni said.

“Molly?” She looked at me.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Count me in.” I nodded, stomach fluttering a little. A reaction to Bianca’s invitation, or the bite of mystery casserole. I wasn’t sure which.

“Both of you come around six, and don’t expect to make it home until tomorrow afternoon. I have something special planned tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds mysterious.” Lenni widened her eyes.

“It’s something I should’ve done a long time ago. Something important,” Bianca said, unfolding her napkin. “And I’ve decided I want us to do it together.” She placed the napkin over her peanut butter cookie and pushed the tray away.

“Let’s go outside,” Lenni said. We dumped our trays and walked through the doors to the schoolyard. Lenni ran from group to group, squealing pleasantries, getting her social fix.

“How does your dad like his job?” I asked Bianca as we walked toward an empty picnic table.

“He likes it. He told this crazy story about some guy getting his tie caught in the ball return. Who bowls in a necktie, anyway?”

My face grew warm, remembering Dad had worn his tie to the alley again the night before. “I’m glad he’s enjoying it.”

“Me too. I haven’t seen him like this since Mom—since I was a little girl.”

“Okay, I’m back,” Lenni said brightly, as if Bianca and I had gone into suspended animation during her absence. “I just had to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Lenni, you see them every single day.” Bianca rolled her eyes as the bell rang.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lenni climbed down from the van.

“Hold on a sec,” I said through the passenger window, and then turned to Mom. “Mom, can you take Lenni and me over to Bianca’s around six? She’s having a sleepover.”

“Sure, that’ll be fine. I need to go to the store this evening. I’ll drop you girls off beforehand.”

“See you in a couple of hours, Len.”

“Thanks. I’ll be ready.” She skipped up the walk.

Mom backed out of the driveway. “Bianca’s tonight? That’s a switch.”

“I know. I’m not really sure what to expect.”

“Well, I think it’s great. Maybe this means she’s comfortable with the way things are at home.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“Not to sound judgmental, but, please be careful in that neighborhood. Stay indoors. Old Town has a reputation for being…what do the kids around here call it…”

“Rugged?”

“Yes, rugged, that’s it.” The slang term sounded funny coming from my mother.

“I’ll be careful. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

We pulled into our driveway.

“The wind blew hard last night, but her hat is still in place.” Mom straightened porch witch’s dress before we entered the house.

Excited to see us, Boo squirmed so much I had a hard time picking him up. “Mom, I’m going upstairs to pack.” I kissed the little dog’s head, set him back down, and jogged upstairs to my room.

I had no clue what to bring with me to Bianca’s. I wondered what kind of
something special
she had planned. I ran my fingers through the closet, parting hangers and frowning. I shrugged and pulled down my softest pair of jeans and a navy-blue sweater. The radio forecast said tomorrow would be chilly.

* * *

Mom drove cautiously into Old Town. The shadowy trees looked even more ominous in the waning light.

I turned toward the backseat, facing Lenni. “I wonder what she wants with them?” I glanced between her knees at the green bottle that held three bloodberry blossoms.

“She didn’t say. Maybe ambiance?”

I smiled, proud of Lenni for using such a big word.

Mom brought the van to a gentle stop in front of Bianca’s weathered house. “Is she home?” She sounded concerned as she scanned the damaged windows. The front door swung open and Bianca breezed down the porch steps.

“My dad’s working until seven.” She offered Mom a smile, revealing rarely seen, straight, white teeth.

“Thank you, dear. I’m sure you girls will be fine,” Mom said, not sounding completely convinced.

“See you tomorrow afternoon, Mom.” I hugged her.

“Thanks, Madeline,” Lenni said as she gingerly stepped on the running board. Bianca took the bottle from her before Lenni lowered her foot to the pavement. We trekked up the crumbling walkway. Mom waited until we stood on the splintered porch before leaving.

Bianca set the bottle on the scratched coffee table. “Make yourselves at home.” She took our bags, dropped them to the floor, and then flopped on the orange sofa. She crossed her tall boots on the table, next to the flowers. Lenni sat beside her. I sank into a scuffed leather recliner.

“This chair is comfortable,” I said, pulling the lever on the side, lying back.

“Yeah, that’s Dad’s. Thankfully, he doesn’t spend as much time in it as he used to.”

I glanced around. Scrapes marred the wood floors. Overhead, an amber globe hung from a tarnished gold chain, giving the room a topaz glow. Lenni stared at the bloodberry flowers with question marks in her eyes.

“We need something to drink,” Bianca decided as we sat silently.

I pushed the lever on the side of the recliner. It recoiled sharply, catapulting me into the coffee table. Lenni lunged for the teetering flower vase, steadying it. I caught my balance and slapped a hand over my thumping heart.

“Guess I should’ve warned you about that,” Bianca said.

I shook my head and grinned. Not so long ago, Bianca would’ve enjoyed watching me fall on my face.

We stepped into the small kitchen and Bianca took three tumblers from the cupboard. I mused over the collection of oversized wooden spoons and forks hanging on the walls. Some resembled totems with harsh little faces carved into them.

“My mother’s collection,” Bianca said, following my gaze. “She used to pick them up at flea markets and garage sales. A few were gifts. This set belonged to my great grandmother.” She pointed to a gigantic spoon and fork hung horizontally above the gold-toned refrigerator.

“Cool,” I said. “I really like your kitchen. It’s very eclectic.”

“Molly, people in Old Town have electricity, same as everybody else,” Lenni said, rolling her eyes.

“I said
eclectic
, Lenni.”

She stared blankly.

Bianca poured ice tea and we drank at the kitchen counter. “Let’s go to my room,” she said, placing our empty glasses in the sink.

She picked up the bottle of flowers on the way through. We entered a small, dark hallway lined with pictures. Several school photos of Bianca stared at us from the wall, her hair gathered in pigtails, body posed stiffly in front of various backdrops.

I stopped in front of the largest picture frame. Smiling behind the glass was a beautiful woman with charcoal eyes. Her black hair, brushed behind one creamy-white shoulder, glistened.

“She’s stunning,” I whispered.

“My mother,” Bianca said.

My gaze wandered over Jocelyn’s face—so similar to her daughter’s—then stopped at the locket around her neck.

“It’s the same one.” Bianca reached into her neckline and pulled out the locket. Guilt knotted my stomach as I recalled her opening it to show me Sam’s picture after she’d eaten Mom’s cookie.

“When this photograph of my mother was taken, I was a baby. The locket held my picture then.” She tapped the glass with a crimson fingernail.

I swept my gaze to the frame beside Jocelyn’s portrait—a little boy playing in the lawn sprinkler, his strawberry-blonde hair lit by the sun. “Sam,” I said, unable to look at the little boy without smiling. He seemed to be having the time of his life.

“Yep, that’s Sam.” She traced her little brother’s face with her finger. “We’re going to visit him tomorrow.”

I snapped my eyes from Sam’s photograph to her face. Our gazes locked.

“Bianca, can I go on in?” Lenni asked.

She looked down the hall to where Lenni stood peeking into a doorway. “Of course. What’s stopping you?” she said, walking toward her.

“I dunno, just trying to be polite.” Lenni parted long strands of red and purple glass beads and stepped in. Bianca and I followed. “I just love your room!” Lenni squealed, touching a little dragon with sapphire eyes then picking up a jar that looked like an antique urn.

Bianca rolled her eyes, “Lenni, you’ve been here a hundred times.”

“I know, but it’s just so cool. I love the spider-webby things and the crystals.” Lenni fingered a wispy tendril flowing from the ceiling.

“Actually, I’m thinking of redecorating,” Bianca said. “I don’t really use this stuff anymore.” She picked up a small crystal ball. “Here, need a paperweight?”

“You’re giving it to me?” Lenni asked, her eyes large.

“On one condition. You use it as a paperweight. Only.”

Lenni nodded.

“I don’t want you goofing around with it. I know what can happen when imaginations run wild.”

“Does it see the future?” She took the sphere from Bianca’s hand and held it up to a lampshade covered in silk scarves.

“There’s only one person who knows the future, and He doesn’t need a crystal ball.” She set the flowers on her nightstand, next to her crimson Bible.

* * *

Bianca’s father carried in delicious-smelling paper bags covered with greasy stains. “Bowling alley burgers and fries for everyone,” he said, setting the sacks on Bianca’s dresser. “Be right back.” He hustled out, returning with a roll of paper towels and three cola cans. My mouth watered as the aroma of fried onions and grilled meat filled the room.

“Dad, you’re the coolest,” Bianca said, kissing his cheek before she grabbed the bags and dropped cross-legged to the floor. “Want to eat with us?” she asked, divvying up the food.

“No way. This is a girl-thing, and I don’t do girl-things. If you need me, holler, giggle, or scream. Although, I’m sure I’ll be hearing a lot of that anyway.” He backed out of the room.

“So, want to play truth or dare while we eat?” Bianca asked, her eyes teasing.

“No, thanks,” I said, enjoying my burger entirely too much, mopping grease from my chin with a paper towel.