A Sliver of Sun Read online

  Miss Claudia dozed in Ben’s recliner, her legs propped up on the foot rest and her mouth open. We tiptoed past her, into the kitchen, and quietly rummaged through drawers until we found a tape measure and a stub of chalk.

  “Okay,” I said, once we were back in Ginger’s room. “Hold the tape right here on the floor by the bed.” I stretched the other end to the opposite wall, keeping it as straight as I could. “Twenty feet wide,” I said. “Now the other way.” Ginger moved over to the window, and I went toward the door. “Sixteen feet long.” I paused to make a quick calculation. Math was the only subject I got good grades in, and the only one Ginger didn’t get good grades in. “So that means we both get a ten by eight foot bedroom.” We measured the width again, and I carefully drew a chalk mark across the faded wood floor.

  “Okay,” I said. “Once we get stuff set up, we gotta ask permission to come over to each other’s side.”

  “Your dresser’s on my side,” Ginger noted.

  “So help me move it.”

  She did, and then went back to cutting out pictures. I dragged over one of my cardboard boxes. Right on top was my aviation scrapbook and my Waldo Pepper movie poster. They both made me think of Daddy.

  Even though he’d crashed his Piper Cub plane six years ago—and I’d finally accepted that he was gone for good—there’d always be a part of him alive in my heart. I loved to think about him, it made me feel calm and good when nothing else could. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, hoping it would take my mind off Ben and his Mustang. But for once, thinking about Daddy didn’t work.

  I closed the box and slipped outside for another look at the scratches on the hood. Tears clogged my throat. Ben would be plenty mad for sure, but he’d be disappointed too—and somehow that was worse.

  I couldn’t put my finger on exactly when I’d started caring what Ben thought. After all, I’d spent a whole year pushing him away, doing my best to keep Mama from marrying him. I’d even gone so far as trying to get Ginger’s mama back in the picture in an effort to stop the wedding. But nothing had worked, Mama had married him anyway. And sometime in the past month or so, my own heart had turned traitor on me.

  Maybe it was finally realizing that my own daddy was really, truly gone for good. Or maybe it was seeing how happy Ben made Mama. Or maybe it was that we all lived under the same roof now, and I had more chance to watch him with Ginger. For whatever crazy reason, I’d started secretly liking some things about Ben.

  I liked his deep, rolling chuckle, and the way he stepped up and made decisions when Mama dilly-dallied around too long. I thought it was funny how he scratched his back against the door frame even though Mama told him he looked like a pony scratching his rump. I liked how he tweaked Ginger’s ribs when he wanted her to move out of his way. And I ‘specially liked it when he scooped her right off the ground for no other reason than to make her laugh.

  I wanted him to do that sort of thing to me. But he didn’t like me enough. I wasn’t too sure he liked me at all. And why would he, when I had such a knack for doing things to upset him? Things like letting a ladder fall across the hood of his Mustang. I sighed. Maybe I’d call Mama and confess, let her break the news to Ben. Maybe by the time they got home, I wouldn’t be in quite so much trouble.

  I ran my finger down one of the scratches. It was long, but not near so deep as I’d expected. I touched it again, and it brought to mind the time I’d seen Ben polish a pair of newly stained barstools. Ginger asked what he was doing, and he said buffing covered scratches and brought out the shine. And I wondered, if you could buff out wood, how about metal?

  I felt a little lighter as I trotted over to the garage. Amidst all the tools and greasy rags and car parts, I found Ben’s paint gun sticking out of a five gallon bucket. On the shelf above, was a soft woolen mitt, big as a polar bear’s paw. I slipped my hand inside and turned it over. It was stained rust-colored, the same color Ben had used on the bar stools.

  I went back out to the car hood and started rubbing in big, firm circles. I rubbed and rubbed until my already sore arm felt like it had a nail sticking in it. The hood shined like crazy, and the scratches seemed a little less noticeable. I brought Miss Claudia out for a second opinion.

  She squinted and wrinkled up her face and bent real close. Then she straightened up and said, “I believe you’re right, Piper Lee. Those scratches are lookin’ better.”

  I clutched at my belly. “Good. I was afraid it was just my imagination.”

  Miss Claudia put an arm around me. “Come on inside now. We need to find somethin’ for supper. Your sister’s asking for chocolate chip pancakes.”

  Your sister. Those words gave me pause. I didn’t think they’d ever sound natural. But chocolate chip pancakes—now those sounded near perfect.

  When I woke up the next morning, my whole body ached from falling off the ladder, and my shoulder ached even worse from buffing. But after breakfast I went out and buffed some more. I started out under the shade of the pecan tree. But little by little the sun scooted across the sky and bathed me in smothering heat. Droplets of sweat dripped from my forehead and stung my eyes as Ginger lay in the shade beneath the trampoline and read her cheerleading book.

  I took an hour break for supper, then buffed until I couldn’t take it for one more second. Then I stumbled back and studied the hood. The scratches had turned into fine lines that you had to look real close to see, and I knew all my effort had been worth it.

  I put the mitt back in the garage and went inside the house, feeling a little bigger. That’s when I overheard Miss Claudia on the phone.

  “Why, yes, sir,” she was saying, “could’ve been so much worse. Piper Lee could’ve broken her arm … oh, yes, I’m real sorry ’bout your Mustang, Ben … I know you’ve worked real hard. Yes, sir, I’m afraid it’s lookin’ pretty beat up.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I waved my hands in a frantic effort to get her to shut up. But she chattered on for another thirty seconds, spilling every detail of what had happened, while Ginger listened from the corner with an amused look on her face.

  Finally, Miss Claudia wished Mama and Ben well and said we’d all look forward to seeing them the next evening, then she snapped the phone closed.

  “Are they having fun?” Ginger asked.

  “Oh, surely,” Miss Claudia said. “They been having a grand time swimming, and walkin’ on the beach and lazin’ around. But I think they’re missing you girls plenty.”

  I started to shake with the injustice of it all. How could she sound so happy and cheerful when she’d just about guaranteed Ben was gonna kill me when he got home? I started to cry. “W—-why’d you do that?” I sputtered. “Why’d you make it sound so bad about the hood, Miss Claudia? You pretty much told him I ruined it.”

  Her face scrunched up, and she hurried over to put an arm around me. “Now don’t you worry about a thing, child. I’ve seen how good you got his hood lookin. You’ve done a real fine job. But now he’ll be expecting the worst. So when he gets home and sees, he’ll think it’s nothin’ at all. He’ll feel relieved instead of put out.”

  I tried real hard to follow her logic, and once I did, I started to relax a bit. “You sure, Miss Claudia?”

  “Positive,” she said. “Trust me, Piper Lee, it’s how a man’s noggin works. You’ll see.”

  I started to breath again. “Well … okay, then. I sure hope you’re right.”

  The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. But just to be double sure, I went out and buffed for a bit more the next afternoon. By the time I heard our car chugging up Hillman Drive, I knew I’d done as much as I could.

  I waited by Mama’s side of the car. She climbed out lookin’ all pretty and happy, with her hair loose and flowing around her shoulders. She grimaced when she examined the scratches on my arm, then gave me a tight squeeze and a kiss on top the head.

  I breathed in the surprise of a perfume I didn’t recognize. “Hey, Mama, have a good time?”

>   “A wonderful time,” she said. “Didn’t we, guy?”

  “Surely did,” Ben said, stepping around the car. “Hey, y’all.” He wore blue jean cutoffs and a new T-shirt that said, Beachside Bed and Breakfast in wavy blue letters.

  Ginger launched herself at him, and he scooped her up in a bear hug. “I see poor Miss Claudia survived you two.”

  “We did jus’ fine, the three of us,” Miss Claudia said. “Although I expect to sleep real good in my own bed tonight.”

  Mama hugged her. “You’ve no idea how much Piper Lee and I miss living across the hall from you.”

  “Now don’t you fret about that, Heather. I’m sure we’ll be seein’ each other right often.”

  Ben dropped Ginger back on her feet, but she kept hold of his hand. “Come and see your car hood,” she said. “Piper Lee tried to shine it up.”

  I swallowed and stepped closer to Mama. Ginger had totally ignored my efforts over the past couple days. I didn’t expect she’d paid much attention at all. And I definitely didn’t expect her to put a positive spin on the whole situation now.

  Ben glanced my way. “Just hold on now,” he said. “Let me get our stuff out of the trunk.”

  Ginger clapped her hands as if she suddenly remembered something. “What stuff? What’d you bring us?”

  “Who says we brought you anything?” Ben asked. “Y’all ready got more stuff in your bedroom than you know what to do with.”

  Ginger rolled her eyes. “Daddy!”

  I waited, trying not to act too eager, but real glad I had Ginger to do my begging for me.

  Ben opened the trunk and set out his and Mama’s suitcases. Then he reached into a brown paper sack and pulled out two brightly wrapped packages. They were both long and skinny, like giant Tootsie Rolls. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “guess we did get ya’ somethin’ after all.” He handed one to each of us.

  Ginger ripped the paper off hers and squealed with delight. It was a water cannon, made of see-through pink plastic with a big water reservoir. Mine was light green. I ran a hand over the smooth barrel and grinned. I’d had water pistols before, but never a big cannon. “Wow, Ginger,” I said, “I can ’bout drown you with this thing.”

  “Like ’em?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Better thank your mama,” he said, “she’s the one who picked ’em out.”

  Ginger jumped over and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mama.”

  Mama. I marveled at how easy that word came from her lips, like she’d been saying it all along instead of only a short time. I wondered what it might feel like to call Ben Daddy? Or to jump into his arms? I couldn’t imagine working up the courage for either.

  Ginger darted toward the garden hose. “Come on, Piper Lee. Let’s go fill our cannons.”

  “Told you they’d like ’em,” Ben said, as I turned to follow Ginger.

  “Mmm,” Mama muttered, in a soft voice I don’t think I was meant to hear. “But I’m not so sure what they’ll think of the other surprise.”

  Chapter Three

  Mama’s comment about the other surprise sent a little zing of alarm through me. At first I thought maybe they’d brought us something else, but instinct told me it wasn’t that kind of surprise. I forgot about it a few minutes later as my focus turned to drenching Ginger. The plunger on the water cannon had enough power to shoot a stream of water a good thirty feet, and I nearly soaked poor Miss Claudia before I figured out how to aim.

  The grown-ups settled on the front porch, sipping sweet tea and watching Ginger and I battle it out. Then after a bit, Miss Claudia went inside and reappeared with her suitcase in hand. Mama waved us over to say our goodbyes before Ben drove her home.

  Miss Claudia gave us a half-way hug without getting too close. “Now don’t y’all take it personal,” she said, “but one shower a day is plenty.”

  My soaking bangs dripped water into my eyes as I watched the car disappear back down the driveway. It gave me a little pang in my heart to realize Miss Claudia wasn’t my across-the-hall friend, or neighbor, or babysitter anymore. And even though we’d only moved a few miles away, it wasn’t the same … nothing was the same.

  “Wanna play any more?” I asked Ginger.

  She shook her head, and water droplets sprayed onto my shoulder. “Naw,” she said, “think I’ll go dry off.”

  “Me too,” I said. But what I really wanted to do was talk to Mama. She still sat on the porch, sipping her tea. I ambled toward the house real slow so Ginger had plenty of time to get ahead. Then after she’d gone through the screen door I kneeled down beside Mama’s chair.

  She jerked her leg away with a laugh. “Goodness, Piper Lee, you’re freezing.”

  “Is everything okay, Mama?”

  “Everything’s just peachy, honey. Why?”

  “I heard what you said to Ben, about us maybe not liking something.”

  Her face flushed a shade rosier. “Oh … did you now?”

  “What do you think we won’t like?”

  She pushed a wet chunk of hair from my face. “We’ll talk about it later. Maybe tonight after supper.”

  “But nothing’s wrong is it, Mama?”

  She clamped her lips into a smile and shook her head, and I knew she wouldn’t let me finagle any more information, at least not right then. “Okay, fine,” I said. “Then can you at least tell me if I’m in trouble with Ben for what happened to his Mustang? ’cause I swear, Mama, the whole thing was Mowgli’s fault. I was up on the ladder, and I was being real careful and everything.”

  Mama shook her head. “It’s okay, honey. At first he was a little put out, but he can always paint again if he needs to. Let’s go take a look.”

  I led her over to the hood and watched her expression. Her eyebrows knit together. “My goodness! All that worry for this? I was expecting something much worse.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at how perfectly Miss Claudia’s plan had worked. I only hoped it worked as good on Ben. “Should’ve seen it at first,” I said.

  “Well, I don’t think you have much to fret about now,” Mama said. “Get dried off, and then let’s see what we can find for supper.” She made a half-turn and stopped, a funny look on her face. She rested her fingertips on my arm.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She shook her shoulders. “Just a pinch dizzy all of a sudden. I’m fine now. Come on.”

  Ginger and I were on the porch steps, shelling a big bowl of peas when Ben came back from dropping off Miss Claudia. My insides wobbled like a fried egg as he walked over to look at the Mustang’s hood. He stood for a minute, his back to us with feet planted wide. Then he turned and headed toward the porch.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, as he walked past.

  “I’ll declaw that dang cat,” he said. And my mouth went dry as I stared up at him. But then he winked, and I started to breath again.

  Ginger grinned and stuck a pea in her mouth. “Guess what, Daddy? Me and Piper Lee divided up my bedroom.”

  “Divided it up?”

  “Yep. Cut it right in half with a chalk line. Wanna see?”

  “I reckon I better,” he said.

  I stayed put, shelling peas, and trying to calm my nerves.

  Mowgli strolled over a minute later. He sat himself on the top step and started to lick his behind. Ever since the incident with the car hood, I’d tossed his leash and left him to his own devices. I flicked a pea at him. “That’s disgusting, Mowgli, knock it off.” He watched the pea roll off the edge of the porch, and then went right back to grooming.

  Ginger came back out the door and plunked herself beside me.

  “What’d your daddy say about the room?” I asked.

  “Said we’ll have to see.”

  “See what? We measured real careful.”

  She stuck a peapod in her mouth. “I know. That’s what I told him.”

  “What’d he say then?”

  “Nothing.”

  I figured
she’d told him dividing the room had been my idea. That’s probably why he didn’t like it. I sighed. “Speaking of things that don’t make sense, I know somethin’ you don’t.”

  She stopped in mid-crunch. “What?”

  “Mama and Ben have another surprise for us.”

  “What are you yapping about, Piper Lee?”

  “I heard Mama say. But she’s not sure we’ll like it.”

  Ginger’s eyes widened. “Well, what is it?”

  “Don’t know. Mama said we’d talk about it later.”

  “Got any guesses?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe dresses or something boring like that.”

  “Dresses? We just got dresses for the wedding.” She furrowed her brow, then her eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s a dog. A cat-eating dog.”

  I scowled at her. “It’s not a dog. Besides, Mowgli could handle a dog just fine. Scratch its eyes right out.”

  “That’s nasty, Piper Lee.” She shelled another pea. “Did Mama say when we’d talk about it?”

  “Why don’t you go ask her?”

  She hesitated a minute, then set her handful of peas aside and charged back through the screen door. I smiled. Ginger could stand not knowing a secret about as long as she could stand a June bug landing on her.

  Ginger was gone a long time, a lot longer than I expected. Just about the time I figured I might have to send out a search party, she came back outside. Before I could scold her for taking so long, Mama and Ben pushed through the screen door behind her.

  Ginger shot me a sly little glance of triumph and plopped down on the step beside me. Mama and Ben settled themselves on the porch swing. For several heartbeats the four of us just took turns staring around at each other with nobody saying a word. Mama had a smile on her face, but it looked kinda fake, and her hands were clasped together. Ben looked more relaxed. He draped his arm around Mama’s shoulders and gave the swing a lazy push with his bare feet.

  I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Somethin’ going on?”

  It was quiet enough to hear a dandelion grow.