In the background, she could hear the radio.
“This is WTIX Radio New Orleans,” the announcer said. “Up next, The Moody Blues . . .”
“Turn that up—that was one of Daddy’s favorite new bands,” Ibby said.
Vidrine turned off the radio. “Now go on. She won’t bite.” She poked Ibby in the ribs, causing the brass urn to teeter and fall over on the seat.
Ibby straightened it back up, letting her fingers linger on the cool brass handle. She swallowed hard, wondering why her mother was being so secretive. Now that her father was gone, she got the feeling that what her mother really wanted was to get away from her.
Vidrine leaned over and said in a soft voice, “Now listen, honey, I know it’s hard to understand why God takes some people from this earth before their time. But he took your daddy in a silly bicycle accident. And now . . . well, we just have to move on somehow.”
Ibby gave her mother a sideways glance. God was a word her mother had never uttered until her father died, and being left with someone she’d never met for an indefinite period of time wasn’t exactly Ibby’s idea of moving on. But she was just shy of twelve years old, and no one had bothered to ask her opinion on the matter.
She let her hand fall from the urn. “Aren’t you at least going to come in with me?” Ibby asked.
Vidrine crossed her arms. “Liberty Alice Bell, quit your whining and get on out of this car right now. I’ve got to go.”
“But Mom—”
“Now remember what I told you. Be a good girl. Don’t give your grandmother any trouble. And one more thing.” Her mother leaned in closer and wagged a finger. “Try not to pick up any of those awful expressions like y’all or ain’t. It’s just not ladylike. Understand me?”
Before Ibby could answer, Vidrine reached over, opened the door, and pushed her out of the car.
Chapter Two
Lawd,” Doll declared as she scratched the top of her head with a long red fingernail and held back the lace curtains in the front window with the other hand.
She’d expected to see the milkman, or the egg man, or maybe even the fish man, but the sight of a young girl standing on the sidewalk in front of the house took her by surprise. She let the curtains fall back into place, wondering what she should do.
“Girl, what you going on about?” came her mother’s voice behind her.
Doll turned to find Queenie standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, holding the swinging door open with her foot as she heaved her huge bosom up with her forearms.
“She here, Mama,” Doll said as she brushed off her uniform with a nervous sweep of her hand.
“Who’s here?” Queenie asked.
“Miss Fannie’s grandbaby,” Doll replied in a way that sounded as if she didn’t believe it herself.
Queenie stormed headfirst through the dining room to where Doll was standing. “What day is it?”
“Ironing day, Mama.”
Queenie shook her head. “No—the date, baby. What’s today’s date?”
“July fourth is this Saturday, so it must be coming up on the first of July. Why you want to know?”
Queenie huffed, “She can’t be here. Weren’t expecting her until tomorrow.”
“Well, she’s here, bright as day,” Doll said as a white Ford Galaxie sped off down the street.
“Miss Fannie—she gone have a fit!” Queenie stomped her foot.
Doll and Queenie stared out the window in a moment of silent bewilderment as they examined the young girl standing just outside the gate dressed in shorts, a striped T-shirt, and red sneakers, gazing at the house with a pained expression on her face.
Queenie mashed up her mouth. “Her mama don’t even know how to dress her proper for a plane ride.”
“How you know, Mama? You ain’t never been on a plane.”
Queenie put her hands on her hips. “On account I read Miss Fannie’s LIFE magazines. I know how them other folks live.” Then she turned and peered out the window again. “What’s she got in her hand?”
Doll leaned in to get a better look. “Looks like some kind of trophy. But bless her heart, she holding on to it for dear life.”
“Strange looking,” Queenie said.
“The girl?” Doll asked.
“No, baby.” Queenie slapped Doll’s arm. “That thing in her hand.”
“She got the same haircut as Miss Fannie,” Doll added.
“Sure enough.” Queenie gazed out the window. “Like Captain Kangaroo.”
Doll shook her head. “If everything else be like Miss Fannie, we gone have ourselves a heap of trouble.”
Queenie wagged a finger. “Now, don’t you go judging that poor child just yet.” Then she mumbled under her breath, “God Almighty, pray for a miracle.”
“I believe that little girl gone stand there all day, lessen we go out and fetch her,” Doll went on.