School of Charm Read Free Page B

Charlene said.
    Grandma nodded. “Very.”
    â€œDid you get those when you were little?” Ruthie asked. “I sure would love pretty dolls like them.” She stared into the living room like a dog pouting over a bone just out of reach.
    Grandma smiled. “No. Your grandfather bought one for me every year on my birthday and then each Christmas after we were married.”
    â€œThey’re real nice,” I offered.
    Charlene took a sip of water and almost choked. “Chip, you don’t like dolls. Mama got you a doll when you were a baby and you chewed all the fingers off it.”
    Mama shook her head, smiling. “You never asked for another one.”
    I tucked my bottom lip under my front teeth. “That doesn’t mean anything. Those dolls, they’re nice, Grandma. Real nice.”
    Mama, Charlene, and Ruthie all looked at me.
    â€œWhat? They are,” I said, suddenly real keen to study the pattern of roses and vines on Grandma’s plates.
    â€œThank you, Brenda,” Grandma said. “I like them too.”
    Everyone started chattering more about dolls and dresses, but I had nothing else to say, so I shoveled down the horrible okra Grandma had made for dinner as fast as I could and asked to be excused. I ran back to my room and stayed up there until the house was quiet and I got bored staring at the owl, waiting to see if I could catch it moving. I wrote Billy a letter telling him about the car ride down and the hawk I’d seen in West Virginia flying with a snake dangling from its talons. Billy would’ve loved that. I didn’t get any kind of sign from Daddy, so I went down to the patio. Maybe there’d be a sign out there.
    Mama and Charlene and Grandma were sitting in chairs, all huddled up together.
    â€œYou’ve only had Charlene in six pageants?” Grandma asked. “We’ll have to get Ruthie started soon.”
    Worse than dolls. They were talking about pageants. I sat down in a chair and tried not to groan.
    Mama picked up Ruthie and she looped her arms around Mama’s neck and snuggled into her chest.
    â€œDon’t worry about Chip,” Charlene said, crossing her long, thin legs. “I’ve already told her she’s not pageant material. She needs to know so she won’t be embarrassed. I look out for her like that, Grandma.” She shrugged like she couldn’t help being the best big sister in the world, which was not true no matter how big she smiled when she said it.
    Grandma looked at me. I knew she was staring at the pale red birthmark splashed on my cheek. My angel’s kiss. That’s what Daddy always called it.
    I ignored Charlene and watched a toad hop across the bricks in the patio. I would’ve caught him if we weren’t at Grandma’s and on our best behavior. I sat on my twitching fingers to be sure. He was a nice big toad.
    â€œMiss Dogwood is five weeks away? Oh my, so much to do,” Mama said, fanning herself. But her cheeks glowed that pretty pink color like they used to before Daddy died.
    â€œWe can do it,” Grandma said. “It’s just what we need. A pageant to keep us busy.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right.” Mama sighed and dropped her head back. “It’s good to be back south. I just never felt right up north. It’s so darn cold, and everything’s so fast.”
    â€œOf course you didn’t like it. I told you to stay away from that Yankee .” Grandma spit the word out.
    â€œMother . . .”
    â€œWhat did I expect, though? You never did listen to me,” Grandma said in a low voice.
    Mama’s mouth tightened. “Yes, well, you didn’t . . .” She glanced over at us.
    I looked back and forth from Mama to Grandma. There were more secret looks and words bouncing between them than a handful of Super Balls.
    Grandma patted the arms on her lawn chair. “This is where you belong, Cecelia.