How High the Moon Page 20

“Maybe I should ask you the same,” Brenda said, her voice shaky, but not noodley. “I heard you got pretty cozy with Pattie Melbourne at Thad’s cookout.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? And why are you trying to turn this around? We’re talking about you here, and the way you didn’t have time to talk to me all week.”

  “So you hurried home to check up on me, even though you know how busy I’ve been?”

  “Thad told me you had some trash in your car.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brenda said. She pressed her hands flat against the wall.

  “Of course you do. Trish said she thought it might have been that scum that works here.”

  “Scum?” Brenda said. “I didn’t have any scum in my car. But Johnny Jackson went with me to bring Teaspoon’s little friend to the hospital after he got hit out in our parking lot. I was too shook up to drive.”

  Leonard didn’t look very strong, wax-bean-skinny that he was, but he must have been because Brenda let out a yelp when he grabbed her wrist. “That kid got hit two weeks ago, Brenda. They saw you last night. And Thad said he heard your Thunderbird was up on River Road.”

  “Let me go, Leonard,” Brenda said.

  “Let you go?” Leonard’s voice got higher as he mocked her, then he laughed. “You’re mine, Brenda. And I think you’d be wise to remember that.”

  And then, though I don’t know why, because it certainly wasn’t one of those romantic times that make a lady’s eyes go dreamy, Leonard leaned down and kissed Brenda, movie-star-hard.

  “Hmmmm,” he said. “My little girl smells dirty.”

  “Leonard, please,” Brenda said. “Don’t kiss me when you’re angry.”

  Leonard grabbed Brenda’s other wrist then, and she let out another yelp. He held her arms wide, then kissed her again. And I swear I heard the back of her head hit the wall.

  That’s when my affliction flared up.

  I didn’t bother getting to my feet. I just scampered across the projector room on my hands and knees, crawling fast as a baby with rabies. And before either of them registered that I was in the room, I yanked Leonard’s pant leg up and dug my teeth into his ankle.

  Leonard let out a yelp, then his heel came off the floor—I suppose when he twisted around to see what was suddenly paining him—but still I didn’t let go.

  “Ow, ow,” he shouted. “What in the hell?” Leonard started cussing, but I just bit down all the harder, my head jerking along with his leg when he tried to get me to let go.

  “Leonard!” Brenda shouted, “Careful! You’re going to hurt her!”

  “I’m going to hurt her?” Leonard screamed between curses, swatting at my head until I had to let go.

  I scrambled to my feet, my chest still thumping with mad. Leonard was rubbing his ankle, and I was rubbing off my tongue with the bottom of my shirt cause, respectable or not, Leonard Gaylor was the kind to have cooties.

  Leonard glared down at me for a second, then glared at Brenda. He was shaking mad. He ran his hands through his bristly hair, then pointed a finger at Brenda. “Don’t go making me look like a fool. I staked my claim on you a long time ago. Nobody with any worth wants to buy a used car, Brenda. And I’ve put more than a few miles on you.”

  He took a deep breath. “I’ll be by at eight to pick you up. Have yourself cleaned up by then.”

  As I headed home that day, I wished Charlie was still able to wait for me outside the Starlight, because I wanted somebody to spout my mean thoughts about Leonard to. But a couple days later, when I came home from an early-evening “all Sunshine Sisters” meeting, so the Mill Town Monitor could take our picture and talk to us about being Sisters and the gala, I realized that it was better if Charlie couldn’t tag along to my meetings anymore, because Charlie made a better spy than he did a listener.

  Well, sort of.

  “What do you mean, Teddy and Miss Tuckle kissed like Eskimos?” I asked.

  “You know,” Charlie said, getting up, and leaning his face over to make his nose spar with mine like the Jackson boys did with their cardboard swords, only not as hard. “Like that.”

  “When did they do that?” I asked.

  “When he walked her out to her car because she was gonna leave. They were standing by it, real close, talking. Then they did that.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “He opened the car door and she left.”

  “They’re supposed to be just friends. She swore it,” I said, wondering if an Eskimo kiss meant the same thing as a lip kiss. “Did they talk like just friends while she was here?”

  “I dunno,” Charlie said. “I was playing. And they left.”

  “Where’d they go?”

  “I dunno.”

  I plunked my hand down over Charlie’s, so he had to stop playing. “Charlie, listen up. The next time she shows up here while I’m gone, you keep your eyes sharp and your ears peeled, got it? You’re going to be my spy from now on, and I want you to tell me everything that goes on here when I’m gone.”

  Teddy sure was proud when he got his next Mill Town Monitor. “Look at that. My little Teaspoon, right in the center front,” he said.

  While Teddy was cutting the article out of the paper so he could tape it to the fridge, I told him, “You know that part where the reporter man wrote that I said I liked the Sunshine Sisters program because it teaches me how to behave so I won’t get in so much trouble in school anymore? And where I said that Mrs. Bloom was real nice to let us be in the gala because it makes us feel special? Well, the words he said were supposed to be a quote—that’s what Brenda said it’s called when they print the exact words you said—but that wasn’t exactly what I said. I said that Mrs. Bloom is real nice to let us be stars in the gala, because it will help us not feel so bad about having afflictions. Like Mindy Brewer, who is shy about her big teeth, but is going to smile on stage without holding her hand over her mouth now, because Mimi Hines has big teeth and she doesn’t cover hers.”

  I think Mrs. Bloom was happy about what I said, too, because she wasn’t crabby with me when she came in while me and Brenda were having our next meeting. She was crabby at Brenda, though.

  “Mrs. Gaylor said that Leonard seemed very upset last Saturday afternoon when he came in and saw you working like a common laborer—as he should have been. I delegated that work to Uriah, not you.

  “She also said that you were cool to Leonard on the phone last week… when he finally managed to reach you.”

  “I’ve been very busy, Mother.”

  Mrs. Bloom sighed. “Of course you’ve been busy, dear. But men don’t understand when a woman gets busy. You’ll need to learn how to juggle your social obligations and your duties to your husband, if you want to keep him happy.”

  “Leonard should marry a clown then,” I said.

  Mrs. Bloom’s head snapped around. “What did you say?”

  “I said that Leonard should marry a clown. If he wants to be made happy and see somebody juggle, then he should just marry a clown.”

  “Isabella!” Mrs. Bloom said, and Brenda turned away, her hand going over her mouth like she had bucked teeth and didn’t want us seeing them when she smiled.

  Mrs. Bloom looked at Brenda. “I can see you’ve been neglecting your Sunshine Sister mentoring duties as well,” she said.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  If there was one thing I could count on (besides the Jackson kids being annoying), it was that if I was at the Starlight, Charlie was at my house playing Ma’s piano. And yep, that’s where he was when I got home from having a meeting with Brenda and the guy who was going to be our music director and our chorusographer, Jay.

  “Where’s Teddy?” I asked when I got inside. “I want to tell him about our routine. Jay showed me all the steps, Charlie. And I did real good. So I might want to be a dancer and a singer. Anyway, I want to tell Teddy that.” I glanced out the screen door while I asked, so I could wave at Johnny, who was walking over to our side of the
street to talk to Brenda.

  “He’s over at my place,” Charlie said. “With Grandma G and Miss Tuckle. They been over there a long time. Ever since Teddy got home.”

  I glanced up at the clock. “He’s been home for, what now, almost two hours?”

  “I guess so,” Charlie said. “I think something’s going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Charlie stopped plucking at the piano keys and looked up.

  “Well,” he said. “I was home having supper when Teddy came over. He had something in his hand, and…”

  “What?”

  “Mail.”

  “Oh, doesn’t that figure, Charlie. Teddy never did take that loan from Miss Tuckle, the best I can tell, because the porch is still leaning. Probably because he got his head on straight and remembered that he doesn’t like loans. Or else he figured out that walking on a rotting porch wasn’t going to kill me. He slapped some more tar on the leaky roof and said it would have to do, and relaxed a bit after he gave up on getting that loan from Miller. But now, shucks, another bad bill and he’ll be worrying all over again.”

  “Anyway,” Charlie said. “He came over and he looked like he needed to burp. So Grandma G made him sit down and she got him coffee. She asked him what was wrong, and he looked at me. Then Grandma G looked at me. And then she told me to hurry and finish my supper.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Then Miss Tuckle came, and she saw that Teddy was upset, too.”

  Boy, getting anything out of Charlie was like pulling teeth. “And?” I said.

  “Well, then Grandma G told me to hurry up and finish my supper all over again. And when I got done, she told me to come here and play piano and be a good boy. So that’s what I did.”

  I peeked out the screen, and sure enough, Miss Tuckle’s car was parked up the street, three cars in front of the now empty spot where Brenda’s car had been. “Come on, Charlie,” I said. “Let’s go over to your place and find out what’s going on.”

  I don’t think Charlie wanted to go. I think he wanted to play Live at the Starlight instead, but he followed anyway.

  The three of them were still at the kitchen table when we got there. Teddy had his head down, his hands spinning his coffee cup. Mrs. Fry looked like her dog just died—well, if she had a nice dog.

  A small groan came out of Teddy when he saw me, and Miss Tuckle swiveled in her chair. She gave me her best Sunday school smile. “Teaspoon, Charlie… how would you two like to go with me to…”

  Teddy stopped her. “It’s okay, April,” he said. He got up slow, like he was full of bruises from getting smacked.

  “What’s going on, Teddy?”

  His hand fluttered like a leaf against my back as he led me out of the kitchen. Charlie started following and Miss Tuckle said, “You stay here Charlie.” Me and Teddy reached the front door and I turned around. Miss Tuckle and Mrs. Fry and Charlie were watching from the middle of the living room. Charlie looked as scared as I felt, but Miss Tuckle and Mrs. Fry just looked sad.

  Teddy didn’t say a word as we crossed our yard. He just climbed the steps, then stood holding the door for me. “Come on inside and sit down, Teaspoon,” Teddy said.

  But I didn’t budge. I’d seen enough movies to know what it meant when everybody gawks at one person with a sad, worried look, then takes them aside and tells them to sit down.

  My legs went stiff and icicle-cold. “Teddy? Did my ma die?”

  Teddy hurried to me and put his arm around me. “No. No, Teaspoon. Your ma’s fine. Come inside. Come on.”

  Once inside, Teddy tried to get me to sit on the couch, but I wanted to sit on the Starlight seats instead.

  Teddy turned to me, his knees butted against my leg. He took my hand and set it on the red armrest, putting his hand over mine. It felt cold, even though the day was oven-baking warm.

  “I don’t know how to say this so it won’t be quite such a shock to you, so I guess I’m just going to have to say it.

  “Teaspoon, I heard from your ma. She’s coming here at the end of next month.”

  Funny how it went. I’d been waiting to hear those words for half of my life, yet when Teddy said them, they were like raindrops that had fallen on dust. And all those words did was sit there, beaded on my skin.

  I don’t know long it took before they soaked in, but suddenly they did. And tingles started rushing up my legs, filling my whole self with happy. I leapt out of the Starlight chair and tossed my arms above my head, yelling and hopping in circles. “My ma’s coming home! My ma’s coming home!

  “Wow, Teddy. Can you believe it? She’s coming home! Next month? That’s August then, right?”

  “Yes, August… but late in the month. She didn’t give an exact date.”

  “Wow Teddy, I can’t believe it.” I looked up. “Thank you, God and Good Jesus!”

  Teddy had his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped, his thumbs pushed together. He glanced up at me and smiled without unbunching his lips.

  I carried on until I got winded, then I gave Teddy a big squish. I’d planned to make it a quick one because I had more cheering to do, but Teddy wrapped his arms around me and didn’t let go until I told him to. He had tears in his eyes when he finally did. And not happy ones, either.

  “What’s the matter, Teddy? This is what you and me been waiting for since she left. Ma’s coming home! We’re going to be a family again. Not just Teaspoon and Teddy, but Teaspoon and Teddy and Catty.”

  “Honey,” he said. “Your ma didn’t say why she was coming back. I think you need to remember that.”

  “Why would she have to say it, Teddy? We know why she’s coming back. Because she found her dream. And because she misses us like we miss her.”

  I clamped my hands to the sides of my head. “Boy, Teddy. Doesn’t it figure? I’ve been checking the movie posters outside the Starlight practically since she left, but… oh, wait… the Starlight’s been closed for a while now, so who knows how many movie posters I’ve missed. Doesn’t matter, though. What matters is that Ma’s coming back to us!”

  Teddy blew out again and looked at me. “Teaspoon, I don’t want you getting your hopes up too high. Maybe she’s just stopping in to say a quick hello, or—”

  “Teddy!” I said. “Have you gone crackers? Course she’s not stopping in just to say hi. She’s never stopped by to say hi once in all this time.”

  Teddy tried to say something else, but I didn’t have time to sit and listen to that naysayer. I had to tell everyone my belly-busting good news!

  “Did you hear the good news?” I asked Charlie as I pumped my foot against the sidewalk. “My ma’s coming home. We’re going to be a family again.”

  Charlie was jogging alongside me, his breath thumping with every step he ran. He looked over at me, his eyes getting wide. “So your ma’s not taking you away then?” Charlie asked.

  I put the skids on my scooter. “Where’d you get a crazy notion like that from?”

  “Well, after you and Teddy left, Grandma G said to Miss Tuckle, ‘He’s scared to death of what that woman might have up her sleeve. It would kill Teddy if she took that little girl away.’ Then Miss Tuckle asked Grandma G if your ma would really do something like that… take you away after all this time, even if she didn’t have a home to bring you to. And Grandma G said, ‘There’s no telling what that woman will do.’”

  “Mrs. Fry said that? What’s the matter with her anyway? First she forgets my ma even exists and tries to find Teddy a new girlfriend, then when she’s reminded of her, she forgets she even liked her.”

  “Well, Teddy did look worried. Even before Grandma G said those things.”

  “Yeah, I know. But he was afraid of giving me a shock. I think he thought I might faint or something. Somebody should tell Teddy that that’s just in the movies, like foggy in-love eyes.”

  “I don’t want you to go away,” Charlie said, in a voice that sounded like he was crying, even if he wasn’t.

&n
bsp; “My ma’s not taking me anywhere, Charlie. Now come on, let’s pick up the pace. I want to tell the Taxi Stand Ladies and Brenda she’s coming home.”

  It just figured that when we got to the corner, the only person standing there was Mrs. Jackson, mailing a letter. She was no Taxi Stand Lady, but I told her my good news anyway. “That’s wonderful, Teaspoon,” she said. And she smiled when she said it, like she was happy for me. Like I wasn’t the same kid who beat her daughters to a pulp every so often.

  I was happy when I saw Brenda’s car back in the Starlight parking lot. I dropped my scooter and ran to the door, but when I yanked on it, it wouldn’t open. Charlie even helped me tug in case it was just jammed. Still it didn’t budge. “Maybe it’s locked,” Charlie said.

  “Brenda doesn’t lock the door when she’s inside and expecting someone, because you can’t hear a knock through this heavy door unless you’re standing right next to it. I thought some man and lady were coming by to audition for one of our filler acts. But hmm, maybe that’s tomorrow. Either way, her car’s here, so she should be.”

  We tried the door in the alley but that wouldn’t open, either, so we had to give up.

  I was so excited that I couldn’t pay attention to anything but my happy thoughts as we headed back. I just kept scootering while I talked, telling Charlie as much about my ma as I could remember. And Charlie kept on trotting beside me, watching his feet and saying only an oh now and then—I think because he was tired from running. And then he wasn’t alongside of me. I stopped and turned, and there was Charlie, halfway down the block, looking this way and that.

  “Teaspoon? Where are we?” he called.

  I looked up at the street sign, then scootered back to him. “Holy cow, Charlie. We’re all the way over on the end of Thornton Street. How could that be? I could find my way home from the Starlight with my eyes closed.”

  Charlie was still panting, even though he wasn’t running anymore. He sniffed the air and looked up. “Audrey’s Calf,” he read.

  I handed Charlie my scooter and hurried to the big glass windows to peer inside. “Charlie, this is it! Audrey’s Café! The place where I met Teddy for the first time. I remember the counter, and the jukebox that was right beside it.” I backed up and looked in both directions, and sure enough, there was the GREYHOUND BUS sign farther down the street. “Yep, that’s the bus depot I remember! Did you come into town at the same place?”