School of Charm Read Free Page A

a license plate with my name, Chip. Daddy had that plate made special for me.
    â€œWe can’t keep all this stuff,” Mama had told me. “We’ll get you new things for our new home. We’re going to have a fresh start down there. You’re going to love it. You’ll see.”
    But Mama was wrong. Bringing me here was like setting a fish loose in the sky. As I stood in my room with the pink ruffled curtains and the shiny wood floor and all the glassy-eyed birds, my heart slipped out of place. It wasn’t home—not even if my books were lined up on the shelf and my clothes were hanging in the closet.
    Laughter rang out across the hall as Charlene chased Ruthie around her room. “Say ding-dong if you’re a southern belle, too, Ruthie-Roo.”
    â€œDing-dong!” Ruthie cried. “Ding-dong!” The two of them were settling in already.
    I sank onto the bed, pulled down by a hurt as heavy as a big rock.
    I took a deep breath to keep the tears back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll like it here, right, Daddy?” I twisted my fingers in front of me. But Daddy wasn’t there to say, “Sure, kiddo. You’ll be fine.”
    My throat felt tight and my face was hot. How could I survive here without him? It was bad enough to move somewhere totally new, but without my daddy too? A few tears slipped out onto my cheek. I wiped them off and decided to do a test. I’d make a wish and see if Daddy was watching over me. I closed my eyes tight. “Daddy, I wish that you’d show me a sign that you’re listening. That I’m going to fit in down here somehow. ’Cause right now, my heart feels like a leftover puzzle piece with nowhere to go.”
    Now I just had to wait for my sign. But I wasn’t so good at waiting—not like I was at nagging.
    A timer went off downstairs, and Grandma and Mama bustled to the kitchen. “Charlene, Ruthie, Chip—time for dinner!” Mama called.
    I hopped down the stairs, and ran through the living room, stopping in front of two lit-up cabinets filled with fancy dolls. I couldn’t believe how many dolls Grandma had. I stopped counting after twenty and just studied them. Their bodies were made out of china, but they wore real clothes and had real-looking hair.
    Some were dressed in outfits from around the world, like the Dutch girl with wooden shoes and a Japanese girl with a kimono. They were lined up on glass shelves in two cabinets pushed up against the back wall. Lights shone down on them like they were beauty queens from different countries waiting to be called for their turns. I pressed my nose against the glass for a closer look and saw little eyelashes that had been painted on each doll. The dolls were all set in special poses or standing near an interesting prop, like the artist doll who stood next to an easel. What was a grown-up doing with so many dolls?
    â€œGirls, you’d better be dressed properly for dinner!” Grandma hollered.
    Rats. I dashed back to my room and put on fresh shorts and a shirt. What did she think? We were one of her dolls? She better not plan on putting me in a dress.
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    G RANDMA’S TABLE WAS SET WITH FANCY PLATES AND glasses. We used plastic Tupperware cups back home, but Grandma’s looked like crystal. All her serving bowls matched the dishes too. And the napkins were cloth, not paper. I sat perched on the edge of the chair, afraid to touch anything, while I waited for the serving bowls to come my way.
    â€œGrandma Cooper, where did you get all those dolls out in the living room?” Charlene asked, taking the smallest piece of meat from the platter. “I’ve never seen such pretty dolls. And there’s so many of them.”
    â€œThose came directly from England,” Grandma said. “They’re hand-painted porcelain with real human hair and handmade dresses. No two are alike.”
    â€œWow. They must be expensive,”