Daisy Lane (21 page)

“I’ve had lovely experiences fostering children and I’ve also had my heart broken,” Kay said. “In fact, I recently fostered a young lady with marvelous potential, but fulfilling potential depends upon hard work and self-discipline, and she just couldn’t resist temptation. That experience was so traumatic I’ve decided not to do another long term placement.”

“What did she do?” Grace asked.

“Drugs, alcohol, sneaking out, sneaking boys in; you name it and she did it.”

“I won’t do any of that,” Grace said.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kay said. “You seem like a nice girl and I hear you have excellent grades, but I also understand from your guidance counselor that there was some sort of outburst earlier this week, and that you were verbally abusive to staff members. Was this about Mrs. Lawson taking the books out of the library?”

Grace explained to Kay what had happened, about the book and Jumbo’s mother.

“That woman is a menace,” Kay said, “but I shouldn’t have been so rude to her this afternoon; I didn’t set a very good example. The world is full of those people, Grace. You and I have to rise above their behavior and not jeopardize what we want in the long term for what satisfies a fit of pique in the short term. We’ve got to pick our battles, and frankly, avoid as many as possible.”

“I’m a good kid,” Grace said. “I promise. I won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Here’s the thing, Grace. I’m running for mayor this year. It’s been a dream of mine for many years and this is my chance. I can’t afford any scandal, and more than that, I can’t afford to have any distractions. This is going to take every ounce of my energy, all of my time, and it’s the worst possible moment for me to take you on in addition to everything else. It’s not fair to you, either. You need someone’s full attention and support, and I wouldn’t be able to give you that.”

“I’ve never had anyone’s full attention or support,” Grace said. “I’m not sure I would like it. I can take care of myself. All I need is a safe place to live until I can graduate. I won’t be any trouble, and I might even be able to help.”

“I couldn’t ask you to work on the campaign,” Kay said. “I wouldn’t.”

“It would look good to foster an orphan, though, wouldn’t it?” Grace said. “Think about it. The newspaper could say you took in a homeless child or something like that.”

Kay looked taken aback and then laughed long and hard.

“Oh, Grace, you are precious,” she finally said. “And worse, it’s true. That would make me look good.”

“Don’t decide right now,” Grace said. “Please. Give it a few days. It may work out fine.”

“I don’t know,” Kay said. “You’re certainly not like any other fifteen-year-old girl I’ve ever met. The timing just could not be worse.”

“Life’s like that,” Grace said. “We’ve all got to look out for each other.”

“Very good,” Kay said. “Using my own words against me. Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get through this week. They may find your aunt, after all.”

“If she’s not in jail, she’ll be dead,” Grace said.

“Oh, honey,” Kay said, and scooted over to give Grace a quick, warm hug. “I’m sorry. I just can’t make you any promises.”

“At least you’re honest,” Grace said.

Grace lay in bed that night, enjoying the feeling of the crisp cotton sheets against her skin and the soft bed beneath her tired bones. She was warm, her belly was full and she knew it was a safe place to sleep.

‘Don’t get used to it,’ the voice in her head said.

It was the same voice from the cupboard the day she considered ending it all.

‘I’m going to save myself,’ she told it.

Maggie woke up as she felt Scott get up. She lay still and quiet until she heard the bathroom door shut, and then she crept out of bed. She walked along the side of the hall so the old floorboards would not creak; she stopped outside the bathroom door and listened. Inside she could hear the unmistakable sound of a man weeping. Her heart hurt inside her chest. She raised her hand to knock, as she had every night since he came home with her on the night his mother died, and just as she had on all of those nights, she let her hand drop without knocking.

What more could she say or do to ease his pain? She argued with herself every night and always came to the same decision: if he needed privacy to grieve she would give it to him. Back in her bedroom, she turned away so that he would not know she was awake when he came back to bed.

Grace woke up to hear Claire and Kay talking in the front room.

“That was so kind of you,” Kay said.

“Well, I knew she probably didn’t have anything to wear and I was shopping anyway,” Claire said. “I hope they fit.”

Grace walked into the kitchen to find Claire holding open a shopping bag for Kay to look into.

“Good morning, Grace,” Kay said. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Grace said.

“I brought you some clothes for the funeral,” Claire said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Grace said, accepting the shopping bag Claire offered. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you get showered, and then try on your new clothes,” Kay said. “That way if they don’t fit we have time to find something else.”

Back in her bedroom after her shower, Grace put on the new clothes. She had read about people being transformed by clothing but this was a new sensation for her. She looked in the mirror and saw a new person. It may only have been a dark navy blue sweater set and slim skirt with matching low heels, but suddenly she felt like someone who didn’t need to hide or feel ashamed. At the same time she felt like an imposter, pretending to be someone she wasn’t, someone who mattered. It was a mixture of feeling reckless and exhilarated, but also a little scared.

When she went to the front room, Claire clapped her hands together.

“Oh, honey,” Kay said. “You look so much older in those clothes; like a proper young lady.”

“You look really nice,” Claire said. “I thought you might let me do your hair.”

Grace sat obediently on a kitchen stool while Claire dried, braided, and wound her hair into an intricately woven knot at the base of her neck. She seemed anxious as Grace looked at the back of her head by using two hand mirrors.

“I hope you like it,” Claire said. “Maggie let me practice it on her last night but it’s much more suited to your hair texture.”

“I like it,” Grace said. “I feel like Cinderella but for a funeral, not a ball.”

“We’ll all be there,” Claire said. “You won’t be alone.”

Kay brought in a short strand of pearls and draped them around Grace’s neck.

“These were my mother’s,” she said. “I was never dainty enough to wear them.”

Grace felt the smooth, cool weight of the pearls and said, “I’ll be really careful with them.”

“I know you will,” Kay said.

“We better get going,” Claire said.

Kay led them into the funeral home by the side entrance.

“The better to avoid Peg and her crew,” she said.

Grace had only been to a funeral twice before, for her mother and then her grandmother, and the room hadn’t changed much. Folding chairs faced a closed coffin on a stand at the front. There were large vases of flowers, mostly white lilies, none of which were from her grandfather’s greenhouse because he refused to do trade with Peg Machalvie, whom he had called, “a whore of Babylon.” Grace thought Peg seemed more like an actress in a play, made up to look better from far away than up close.

Kay directed Grace and Claire to sit on the chairs directly in front of the casket, and then she went to, as she put it, “Attend to business.”

“I hate funerals,” Claire said.

“This is only my third,” Grace said. “My grandmother went to lots of funerals. She said it was out of respect for the dead person and the family. I don’t think anyone will come out of respect for my grandfather.”

“You’ll be surprised then,” Claire said. “Most of the folks in this town come to funerals because they’re curious and some just because they want to eat for free at the reception afterward.”

“There’s supposed to be a reception after this?” Grace asked. “I didn’t do anything about that.”

“My mom took care of it,” Claire said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But how will I pay for that?” Grace asked.

“The IWS takes care of it,” Claire said.

“What’s the IWS?”

“It’s the Interdenominational Women’s Society,” she said. “They’re ladies from all the different places of worship in and around Rose Hill. They get together every Tuesday night out at the Owl Branch Baptist Church and make crafts. Then twice a year they sell their crafts in a big bazaar at the Community Center and all the proceeds go to their favorite charities. One of those is a fund for funeral receptions.”

“Grandpa would hate that,” Grace said. “We weren’t allowed to accept charity.”

“Look at it this way: accepting their help is actually a gift you’re giving them,” Claire said. “It allows the IWS ladies to feel good about helping people.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Grace said.

“They get a big kick out of organizing and putting on these receptions,” Claire said. “They’re very competitive about their cooking. The food is delicious.”

Grace heard the low murmur of conversation in the outer room and tensed up, but Claire squeezed her hand.

“Just smile sadly, shake hands, and say, ‘thank you for coming.’” Claire whispered. “After anything they say about your grandfather, no matter how rude, just say, ‘Thank you, he will be missed.’”

Grace was surprised at how many people showed up. She estimated she knew fifty percent of them by name, another forty percent by sight, and then there was a mysterious ten percent she didn’t think she’d ever seen before.

They all said the same things with very little variation: “I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He’s in a better place,” and “Your grandmother would be so proud of you.”

She was taken aback by the number of people who cried when they talked to her. She figured it was because funerals made them feel sad about their own losses, or they pitied her, left all alone in the big bad world. It would surprise them to know, Grace thought, that this was the first time she didn’t feel so all alone, what with the Fitzpatricks, Doc, Deloris, Kay, and Scott all looking out for her.

Maggie came with her mother and sat right behind Grace. She looked like she wanted to say something but she didn’t, just gave Grace a very concerned look and sighed deeply instead. They were joined by Hannah and Sam, Ed and Tommy, and Hannah’s father.

“Where’s your mom?” Claire asked Hannah.

“Headache,” Hannah said and rolled her eyes.

Hannah put a hand on Grace’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Hang in there, kiddo,” she whispered in her ear. “This part won’t last long, and lucky for you it won’t be pouring rain at the cemetery. The best part is there’s some really good food at the shindig they hold after that. You’re the bereaved, so people will bring you anything you want. Make sure you get some of Erma Bertowski’s pierogies but stay away from Ida Langenfelter’s cabbage rolls. They give me killer indigestion and I can eat anything. If you see any coconut cupcakes, grab one; those are my favorite and they go fast.”

“Who’s keeping Sammy?” Grace asked her.

“He’s in a secure location,” Hannah said.

“He’s with my mom,” Claire said.

Scott came in and sat down next to Grace.

“How are you holding up?” he said.

His face was so kind Grace thought she might cry.

“I’m okay,” she said, and pressed her eyelids together a few times until the tears receded.

He squeezed her hands, which lay clenched in her lap, said, “I’ll be right behind you,” and then went back to sit next to Maggie.

Doc and Deloris came in, and both hugged her. They sat further down the front row. Kay came back and sat on the other side of Grace. Peg Machalvie came in and stood front and center, decked out in one of her tight, black outfits and stiletto high heels. Her overpowering perfume wafted out over the crowd like tear gas, and Grace heard Scott cough.

Peg supervised her two sons, Hugh and Lucas, as they opened the top section of the coffin. She then gestured to Grace to come forward, and Grace froze.

“I’ll go with you,” Kay said, and took her arm.

They rose from their seats, took a few steps forward, and then climbed two more steps to the platform on which a long pedestal held her grandfather’s coffin. The coffin was made of oak, and the lining was dark gold silk. Her grandfather’s face looked unnaturally pink, and when Grace looked up she could see a pink-colored light shining down on his face, while all the other lights were regular white. His neatly trimmed beard was no longer stained yellow, but had been bleached white. She could see they had put makeup on him, and she thought how much he would hate that. He had on a grey suit she had never seen before, along with a bright white shirt and blue tie that looked new, that still had the folding creases in them. His face was relaxed and peaceful looking, so he didn’t look at all like himself. Her grandfather’s face had been deeply lined, and he always, always had a scowl on his face. This man looked like Santa Claus.

Grace thought to herself that maybe this version of her grandfather had been inside him all along. Maybe if he had had nicer parents or an easier life, it would have been this man who raised her. He looked like someone you could hug.

A tug from Kay indicated they could return to their seats. Grace looked out over the crowd assembled and was taken aback at how many people were there. She felt instantly self-conscious that they were all looking at her. She realized with a feeling of dismay that she would never again be invisible in this town. A few rows back, Tommy sat next to Ed, looking uncomfortable in a suit jacket that was too big for him and a tie that was on crooked. He smiled at her and waved. She smiled back before she sat down.

Just then there was a ruckus in the outer vestibule and Mamie Rodefeffer came in. Dressed in her dead foxes and a black woolen dress coat, she was scowling and swinging her cane as if to ward off anyone who might try to stop her, although no one did. She went straight up to the casket, put her hand on Grace’s grandpa’s chest, and said something so quietly that Grace could not hear. When she turned around, it surprised Grace to see tears in the old woman’s eyes. She came forward off the platform, missed a step, almost fell, but was saved when Claire leaped forward and grabbed her arm, steadying her.

In return Mamie gave Claire a contemptuous look and said, “Let go of me, young woman. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

Mamie came forward and stood in front of Grace, looked down at her through her thick glasses and said, “You’re better off, you know. He was just as mean as his mother, maybe worse.”

Grace was speechless.

Kay said, “Mamie, really, this is not the time or the place for one of your tactless remarks.”

“You hush up,” Mamie said to Kay. “This is between me and this young lady here.”

To Grace she then said, “Remember what I told you; you come up and see me.”

With a contemptuous look that took in the whole room, she turned on her heel and, waving her cane, lurched out of the room.

“Don’t mind her,” Kay said. “She’s very eccentric.”

The service was a blur to her. A young minister from the United Methodist Church said nice things about a man he had never met, and certainly not someone familiar to Grace. He quoted the Bible, said there was a lesson in this for all of us, and then told a bible story about the death of Moses.

During all of it, Grace kept thinking about what Elvis had said about attachment. He had mentioned an attachment you could form with your kidnapper as an emotional defense mechanism, and Grace guessed that was the closest thing she felt to love for her grandfather. She was glad he was gone in the sense that he would no longer be in charge of her, and she wouldn’t have to endure any further abuse, but now that she was free of her sad situation she kind of missed it. It hadn’t been good, but it had been familiar, it had been hers. Now everything seemed out of her control, and she didn’t know what would happen next.

Recorded organ music played from speakers in the ceiling as they closed the lid of her grandfather’s coffin. Scott, Ed, Patrick, Sam, and some other men she did not know surrounded the casket, and at Peg’s direction, picked it up. They carried it through the side door where Hugh and Lucas were holding the doors open. Kay directed Grace to stand and go back out the side door she had come in. As she approached, Hugh and Lucas looked Grace up and down in a way that made her feel uneasy. She didn’t like it.

Claire said, “I’ll see you up there.”

Kay and Grace got into a long black car with leather upholstery, quite the nicest car Grace had ever been in. The minister got in with them and during the ride asked Grace where she went to school, what grade she was in, and what subjects did she like. She couldn’t concentrate on answering for thinking about the next part, the burying part. It was the worst part, to her mind, and something she thought no one should have to see. After a few short answers, the minister eventually quit asking her questions and they rode out Possum Holler in silence.

As they turned right, through the entrance to Rose Hill Cemetery, Grace thought about all the people buried there, and imagined their ghosts gossiping about the new ghost about to join them. She wondered if Edgar would be lonely in the big house without them, or if he hung out here with friends when he wasn’t at home. Where would he go if the house was torn down? Grace was not afraid of Edgar but she hoped he wouldn’t follow her to Kay’s.