But I got my answer to the second question a few days before Christmas.
It was winter break, and Gracie had gotten a ride home with some boys from UK. Even though she’d been home almost a week, I’d barely seen her. At night, she went out with some of her friends from high school. During the day, she slept. But that Friday, Mama sent us shopping, giving us a long list of the things she’d need for Christmas dinner.
We made an extra stop at the Goodwill, though. Gracie said she wanted to look at the homecoming dresses people had donated because there was a spring dance coming up and she needed something to wear. While she dug through the layers of tulle and taffeta, I stayed near the front of the store, listening to the chime of the bells as people walked in and out in a hurry. A lot of people in Mursey did their Christmas shopping at the Goodwill, so this was a real busy time of year.
The donated books were up front, and I started going through a stack of them. I couldn’t read the pages in most books, but if the letters were big and bright enough on the covers, I could at least make out their titles. And since about half the stack seemed to be made up of romance novels, some of those titles were pretty funny.
But one book, a heavy, leather-bound thing, got my attention. It was beat-up real bad. I could feel the scratches and creases of the cover. But the words in thick gold cursive still seemed to shine.
Our Poems: A Collection
“All right, let’s go,” Gracie said, suddenly at my shoulder. “The only dresses in my size are maroon and yellow. So there’s no chance in hell that’s happening … What’re you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just a gift for somebody.”
I bought the book for a couple dollars, then we got back into Gracie’s car and started for home.
When I knew we were getting close to home, I said, “Hey, Gracie, can you … can you drop me off at the church?”
“What for?”
“My friend lives in the trailer down the street. I wanna give her this.” I tapped the book in my lap.
The car slowed to a stop, and I heard the ticking of the turn signal. “That’s a Dickinson trailer, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Some of my friends told me they’d heard you two were friends now,” Gracie said. “I didn’t believe them, though. Not until Mama said she’d been hanging out at the house.”
“Uh … well, yeah. It’s true. So will you drop me off?”
Gracie sighed as the car turned right. “Fine. But if Mama gets pissed—”
“She won’t be mad.”
It was only half a lie. I hadn’t asked permission to do this. Not from my parents. Not from Bo. I hadn’t even known I was gonna have Gracie drop me off until five minutes ago. It was impulsive and spontaneous. And those were things I definitely wasn’t allowed to be.
But Daddy was at work, and Mama was visiting my grandmother. As long as I was home before either of them, it’d be all right. And as much as my sister might have disapproved of me hanging out with Dickinsons, I knew she’d never get me in trouble with our parents.
That’s how it had always been. Gracie and me might be different in every way—from how we looked to how we acted—but we were always a united front when it came to our parents. She’d definitely opposed them more than I had growing up, but now it was my turn to break the rules, and I knew she’d cover for me if it came down to that.
Gracie let me out in front of the church. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you sure you can walk to her house on your own?”
I pretended I hadn’t heard her and just started walking, my cane tapping its way down the sidewalk ahead of me.
Despite that, I did have a little trouble. I’d never actually stepped into Bo’s yard before, just stood on the sidewalk in front of her trailer. So when I got there, it took a second for me and my cane to find our way across the frozen yard and up the cement steps to her door. When I knocked, I heard Utah start barking inside.
“Hush!” I heard Bo yell. “Ain’t nobody trying to kill us, Utah. Jesus Christ.”
Then she opened the door. And froze.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked after a second.
It wasn’t the warm welcome I’d expected, and for a second, I was stunned. And scared. Like maybe she’d decided she didn’t like me now. Maybe she realized what everyone else already knew—that I wasn’t nearly the badass she thought I was.
“Um … I brought you something,” I said. “Can I come in?”
“Well … Mama’s not here, so yeah. Sure.”
I noticed the way she said it. Like, if her mother had been there, I wouldn’t be welcomed in.
Bo stepped aside, and I walked into the trailer. First thing I noticed was how cold it was. Barely warmer than the December air outside. When I looked back at Bo, I noticed she looked wider than normal. Layers, I realized. No telling how many she had on.
The second thing that caught my attention was the soft sound of talking mixed with static coming from down the hall.