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the way she loved them, her special way.
    Mama said something to Magdalena. Magdalena looked straight at James. Whatever Mama said made Magdalena draw on her cigarette until the end flared bright orange.
    James picked up his glove and slid its strap over the bat’s end and rested the bat on his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I need to go. Magdalena’s here to walk home with us. We gotta get there before Pop does so Magdalena can wash that stuff off her face.”
    Mr. Morgan glanced at James’ glove, touched it, and looked it over. “That yours?” he asked.
    “My brothers, Harold and Alex, used it before me. It’s mine now.”
    Mr. Morgan nodded, let go of the glove, and looked James in the eye. “Your pop was a good ballplayer, so when he gives you advice how to play better, take it. And you can tell your sister that what your pop really means about her is that beautiful women don’t need makeup. Hags have nothing to do with her.”
    “You think Magdalena’s beautiful?” James frowned at Mr. Morgan.
    Mr. Morgan placed a hand on James’ shoulder. “She’s your sister, so you probably don’t think so. But I can tell you one thing, she’s your mama’s daughter, and your mama sure doesn’t need any makeup. I know.”
    James looked for his mama again in Mr. Morgan’s dark eyes. Did Mr. Morgan see her the same way Pop did, and that’s why makeup was forbidden? Mama would probably laugh at all this talk about beauty, she with her faded dresses and unpinned hair. James wanted to laugh like she would, but something in Mr. Morgan’s eyes stopped him.
    “Your mama’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” Mr. Morgan said. That was different from saying she wasn’t an old hag. Just like saying choke up on the bat was different from saying James was small and sissy.
    Cigarette smoke broke into their conversation. James turned and saw Magdalena near his side. He hadn’t heard her approach, hadn’t even noticed she’d moved. When he looked toward the bleachers, Mama was gone. Probably out near the road, waiting.
    “Time to go, James.” Magdalena seemed a little less brazen as she blew smoke into the air. She dropped the cigarette and rubbed it out in the dirt.
    “Goodbye, Mr. Morgan,” James said. “And thanks.” There were chores waiting for him at home, and if they weren’t done, he’d get a thrashing. Magdalena had to scrub her face, and Mama had to get a meal on the table. They’d all be hurrying, getting everything in place before Pop got there.
    “Goodbye, Glen.” Magdalena’s familiarity shocked James. He looked up at Mr. Morgan, wondering if the man was as surprised as he was. Mr. Morgan nodded. There was a question in his eyes, something he chose not to ask. Mr. Morgan turned and walked away.
    “Let’s go,” Magdalena said, and James ran ahead of her to the road, where Mama was waiting. Beautiful Mama. He glanced back over his shoulder. Mr. Morgan was far away, but he was watching them. There was something in his stance like there had been in his eyes. James waved, then turned and walked with his sister and mother. They had to hurry. They had to get home.

Chapter 2
    Lana 1929
    “Lana, get back over here!” The way Grandma chopped her words, the way she barked rather than spoke, finally drew Lana away from the window. She left a smudge where she’d rubbed it all morning, watching, waiting for her parents to come. The window was clean enough, but she wanted to see her father when she looked out, see him coming up to the door and smiling, waving the way she’d imagined he would. He’d written…well, her mother had…promising they’d come…he’d come. Lana’d rubbed the window, over and over, trying to make him appear. “Get over here and stay put. We have to hurry,” Grandma called again. She was impatient, her bark getting worse.
    Lana moved near the cots she and Grandma slept on. Grandma lowered herself to the floor beside her, one bony knee at a time, grimacing as