daughter. From Ohio.”
“Right.”
“Oh, don’t worry about the charges.” Odelia has finally snapped out of it. Whatever it was. “It was probably just a few cents. No big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Calla gets the feeling her grandmother wants to say something more, but she doesn’t.
SEVEN
A few rainy days later, in yet another lunchtime Trivial Pursuit tournament—now a tradition—Calla has four wedges of proverbial pie in her game piece. Odelia has five and is madly rolling the dice in an effort to gain the sixth.
“Roll again . . . four! History or roll again. I’ll roll again.”
There’s a knock at the door as she blows on the dice.
“Who is it?” she calls, shaking the dice in both hands, her gaze intent on the game board.
“It’s me, Odelia,” a voice calls through the screen door.
“Oh, Evangeline!” Odelia stops shaking, hands poised over the board. “I forgot all about you. Come on in!”
“Thanks a lot,” the voice retorts, and the screen door creaks open. “You tell me to come over as soon as I get back from camp, and then you forget about me?”
A moment later, a young girl with frizzy reddish hair appears in the living room.
Another client? Nah, Calla decides, taking in her rather plain, pudgy face and realizing they must be around the same age. Evangeline’s wearing a pair of baggy khaki shorts and an oversized orange Cleveland Browns T-shirt, and her sturdy, athletic-looking legs end in purple high-top sneakers worn without socks. Calla can’t tell if she’s truly heavy or just looks that way because of her clothes. Lisa the fashionista would love to do a makeover on someone like her.
“This is Evangeline Taggart, Calla. She’s our next-door neighbor.”
Though she’s still not sure about being in Lily Dale, Calla finds herself pleased when her grandmother says “our,” as though she’s genuinely part of the household.
“Evangeline’s been away at camp for a week,” Odelia says. “How was it?”
“Boring. As usual. But my brother liked it, so that was good. How do you like Lily Dale so far?” Evangeline asks Calla.
“It’s nice.” Not that she’s seen much of it. The weather has been lousy and her grandmother has had back-to-back appointments every morning, afternoon, and evening. She’s been encouraging Calla to venture out and explore on her own, but she hasn’t felt like it.
All right . . . maybe she’s still a little spooked.
Mostly, she’s been moping around, brooding about her mother and the school year that lies ahead, reading her way through Odelia’s stacks of novels or writing letters to Lisa. Real letters, not e-mail. Not that she has much to write about. Funny how it’s a lot easier to write an e-mail about nothing than a real letter about nothing. E-mail is less permanent, so what you’re saying doesn’t seem to matter as much. It’s all about the connection.
Never in her life has Calla felt so . . . disconnected .
“Game over.” Odelia sets the dice aside and checks her watch.
“Don’t quit on my account,” Evangeline says. “I don’t mind hanging out, watching.”
“I know, but that’s okay. We’re done. I’ve got a client coming in ten minutes.”
“Don’t you want to at least finish your turn?” Calla asks her grandmother.
“No, thanks. I was going to roll a three. That wouldn’t have helped me.”
“She’s hard to beat at Trivial Pursuit,” Evangeline comments, peering over the board. “But, wow, look at you! Four pieces of pie. You gave her a run for her money, didn’t you?”
“I know a lot of trivia,” Calla explains lamely.
She doesn’t miss the questioning glance Evangeline shoots at her grandmother, nor Odelia’s shrug in response.
Calla finds herself jealous of their bond, and disturbed by the unspoken communication between them. Evangeline was clearly wondering whether Calla, too, is psychic.
Odelia obviously isn’t sure. But why not? What would make her
“Right.”
“Oh, don’t worry about the charges.” Odelia has finally snapped out of it. Whatever it was. “It was probably just a few cents. No big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Calla gets the feeling her grandmother wants to say something more, but she doesn’t.
SEVEN
A few rainy days later, in yet another lunchtime Trivial Pursuit tournament—now a tradition—Calla has four wedges of proverbial pie in her game piece. Odelia has five and is madly rolling the dice in an effort to gain the sixth.
“Roll again . . . four! History or roll again. I’ll roll again.”
There’s a knock at the door as she blows on the dice.
“Who is it?” she calls, shaking the dice in both hands, her gaze intent on the game board.
“It’s me, Odelia,” a voice calls through the screen door.
“Oh, Evangeline!” Odelia stops shaking, hands poised over the board. “I forgot all about you. Come on in!”
“Thanks a lot,” the voice retorts, and the screen door creaks open. “You tell me to come over as soon as I get back from camp, and then you forget about me?”
A moment later, a young girl with frizzy reddish hair appears in the living room.
Another client? Nah, Calla decides, taking in her rather plain, pudgy face and realizing they must be around the same age. Evangeline’s wearing a pair of baggy khaki shorts and an oversized orange Cleveland Browns T-shirt, and her sturdy, athletic-looking legs end in purple high-top sneakers worn without socks. Calla can’t tell if she’s truly heavy or just looks that way because of her clothes. Lisa the fashionista would love to do a makeover on someone like her.
“This is Evangeline Taggart, Calla. She’s our next-door neighbor.”
Though she’s still not sure about being in Lily Dale, Calla finds herself pleased when her grandmother says “our,” as though she’s genuinely part of the household.
“Evangeline’s been away at camp for a week,” Odelia says. “How was it?”
“Boring. As usual. But my brother liked it, so that was good. How do you like Lily Dale so far?” Evangeline asks Calla.
“It’s nice.” Not that she’s seen much of it. The weather has been lousy and her grandmother has had back-to-back appointments every morning, afternoon, and evening. She’s been encouraging Calla to venture out and explore on her own, but she hasn’t felt like it.
All right . . . maybe she’s still a little spooked.
Mostly, she’s been moping around, brooding about her mother and the school year that lies ahead, reading her way through Odelia’s stacks of novels or writing letters to Lisa. Real letters, not e-mail. Not that she has much to write about. Funny how it’s a lot easier to write an e-mail about nothing than a real letter about nothing. E-mail is less permanent, so what you’re saying doesn’t seem to matter as much. It’s all about the connection.
Never in her life has Calla felt so . . . disconnected .
“Game over.” Odelia sets the dice aside and checks her watch.
“Don’t quit on my account,” Evangeline says. “I don’t mind hanging out, watching.”
“I know, but that’s okay. We’re done. I’ve got a client coming in ten minutes.”
“Don’t you want to at least finish your turn?” Calla asks her grandmother.
“No, thanks. I was going to roll a three. That wouldn’t have helped me.”
“She’s hard to beat at Trivial Pursuit,” Evangeline comments, peering over the board. “But, wow, look at you! Four pieces of pie. You gave her a run for her money, didn’t you?”
“I know a lot of trivia,” Calla explains lamely.
She doesn’t miss the questioning glance Evangeline shoots at her grandmother, nor Odelia’s shrug in response.
Calla finds herself jealous of their bond, and disturbed by the unspoken communication between them. Evangeline was clearly wondering whether Calla, too, is psychic.
Odelia obviously isn’t sure. But why not? What would make her
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