Violet Raines Almost Got Struck by Lightning Read Free Page A

girls!” Mrs. Gold says. She looks at me, then turns to Mrs. Townsend. “Another one of yours?”
    Lottie and her sisters are all dishwater blondes, but I like it that Mrs. Gold thinks we might be family.
    Mrs. Townsend laughs. “Four’s not enough? This is Violet, Lottie’s best friend.”
    Hearing that, my heart bulges with gladness and it’s all I can do not to look straight at Melissa. Instead, I step forward and shake Mrs. Gold’s hand. “Momma and I live next door. If you’re not late for church next week, you’ll hear my momma sing.”
    Mrs. Gold chuckles. “Well, you’re certainly not a shrinking violet, are you?” Mrs. Townsend laughs.
    I don’t know what she means, so I just say, “No, ma’am.”
    â€œLet’s go see how Mark is coming along.” Mrs. Townsend ducks out the back door with Mrs. Gold.
    Hannah and Ashley start arguing about who has to set the table, and Tootsie marches around them with her hands on her hips and my flip-flops on her feet. I look at Melissa and Lottie sitting on the bench. Suddenly, I realize Melissa is staying for the fish fry.
    â€œViolet, what’s wrong?” Lottie asks.
    I quickly rearrange my face into a friendly face. “Nothing,” I say, even though my heart feels like it just got slammed. “Nothing at all.”

4
    Melissa’s nose wrinkles as she looks at the tray of fish fillets Mr. Townsend has just cut and rinsed. She sits down on the bench while Lottie and I begin to press the fish into the cornmeal. I pick up a lemon wedge and drizzle the coating with juice.
    â€œLottie! You still got your watch on!” I point with the lemon toward Lottie’s wrist. Lottie’s watch has a diamond chip in it. You have to tilt the watch and catch the light just right so’s you can see the diamond, but it’s there. Her parents gave it to her for her twelfth birthday, on account of it being her last year before becoming a teenager. She always takes the watch off when we cook ’cause she don’t want anything to tarnish it.
    She washes her hands, unclasps the watch, and puts it aside. We drop the coated fish pieces into the kettle, careful not to plop them in because you’re talking about a kettle full of boiling oil.
    â€œCome on, Melissa, you want to help?” Lottie says. “It’ll be fun.”
    Melissa shakes her head. Her mouth is turned down. “I can set the table—would that be okay?”
    â€œThe forks and knives are in that drawer,” Hannah says, pointing. She grabs Ashley’s hand and they run out of the kitchen.
    I know why Melissa offers to set the table. What she really means is I’m not touching that fish! She’s using manners to disguise it, but I’m on to her. I figure if she’s going to eat it later, she can help cook it now. I pull her away from the silverware drawer.
    â€œCome on, Melissa,” I say encouragingly. “It’ll be more fun if you do it too.” I really do mean it—it would be fun to see her squirm. Lottie gives me an appreciative glance. She doesn’t know what I’m up to, but we’ll laugh about it later.
    I take off my apron and hand it to Melissa. “So’s you don’t ruin your fancy clothes.”
    She has no choice. She takes my apron, stands, and puts it on. “Thank you,” she says to me. Well, I’ve got to hand it to her, keeping her cool and her manners when I can clearly see how grossed out she is.
    Lottie explains how to roll the fish and drop them in. Melissa picks up the first piece and her lips pull back as soon as she touches it. I laugh inside. By the look on her face, you’d think she was handling fresh roadkill. She holds the fish between her thumb and finger and lightly touches it to the cornmeal before slipping it into the kettle.
    â€œGood!” Lottie says.
    Melissa turns from the stove and says, “I