Gilda Joyce: The Bones of the Holy Read Free Page B

balls. Wendy had a similar ring, and they used to hide secret notes passed to one another during the school day inside the rings. Gilda had assumed the ring had been lost or tossed out years ago and, now, here it was. She felt as if she had just received a letter sent from a simpler time when she and Wendy had filled their days with silly games—a time when her dad was still alive.
    Gilda put on the ring and felt slightly ridiculous as tears of nostalgia filled her eyes.
    A moment later, she stood up very suddenly.
    Stay focused, Gilda, she reminded herself. You have to figure out what actually happened to Mom in Florida.

5
    Spy Report #2
    ATTENTION: SPY MISSION
    SUCCESSFULLY ACCOMPLISHED!!
    Â 
    Dear Dad:
    As we both know, there are times when spying is necessary for expanding knowledge and protecting national security. True--there are also times when snooping is simply an invasion of privacy.
    WHAT I JUST DISCOVERED IN MOM’S ROOM JUSTIFIES THE NEED FOR INVASIVE TACTICS.
    Here’s what happened: When Mom went to work, I tiptoed into her bedroom. I normally have little incentive to snoop in Mom’s room because her only interesting secret is some occasional backsliding into her old cigarette-smoking habit. (She doesn’t buy cigarettes for herself anymore, but I happen to know that she sometimes bums them off the other nurses after work. Nurses are supposed to know better, but they sure don’t always practice what they preach.)
    I wasn’t sure exactly what I was searching for, but I knew I had to find whatever Mom has been hiding about her trip to Florida. So I put on my spy gloves (to avoid leaving fingerprints) and I started looking for clues.
    Â 
    INTELLIGENCE-GATHERING NOTES:
    General observations: a) Mom’s bedroom was messier than usual, and b) she hadn’t unpacked her luggage. (By the way, I’ve noticed that Mom is very critical of my bedroom--and Stephen’s, too--but if you ever go take a look at HER bedroom, you realize that she’s no Mary Poppins, as you probably remember.)
    I unzipped Mom’s carry-on bag and found something VERY INTERESTING--a blue velvet jewelry box that looked elegant, but also old and worn. Brace yourself, Dad (and I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you):
    THERE WAS A DIAMOND RING INSIDE THE BOX.
    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    Well, I knew right away that this wasn’t just a cocktail ring that Mom bought for herself on a whim, or a little romantic trinket to send a friendly message: “Hey, let’s have coffee sometime!” Or, “Hey, can I sit on your couch all day while you make my car payments?” in the tradition of Mom’s previous boyfriend. Clearly, this ring was a marriage proposal in a box.
    I was so surprised, I sat down on the bed and just stared at that ring. No wonder Mom has been acting so weird, I thought. Some guy proposed to her out of the blue, and she’s probably trying to decide whether to say yes or no!
    On impulse, I decided to try on the ring. That’s when something strange happened: Immediately, I got a very strong psychic signal--that tickle in my ear I get when I’m about to discover a clue to some deeper mystery. And get this, Dad: In my mind, I saw that same old, yellow house again--the spooky one with the big porch. It was very clear to me, almost like looking at a photograph.
    I flipped over the box and found a label for a place called Charlotte’s Attic in St. Augustine, Florida.
    There was also a phone number, so I decided to go ahead and dial it. I figured that I could ask one of the employees at Charlotte’s Attic if they remembered this ring, and anything about the guy who must have purchased it for Mom.
    I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR WHAT HAPPENED AFTER I DIALED THE NUMBER.
    The phone rang once, and a man’s voice answered in the following manner: “WELL, HELL-O THERE, PATTY-CAKES! IS EVERYONE EXCITED ABOUT THE BIG NEWS??”
    Uh-oh, I thought. He must have seen