Saving Cicadas by Nicole Seitz Page A

“Let’s get checked in. Let me make a phone call. Then maybe we can have a look around town and grab some supper.”
    â€œGotta go work, Mama,” Rainey said, like, Duh. You ought to know that by now . Mama was trying to slip one past her.
    â€œOh, shucks, ’bout forgot, sweetie. Okay. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll get going, all right?”
    Room 103 was dark and smelled funny. There was a big brown stain on the carpet beneath the air conditioner. It drip, drip, drip ped a little tune.
    Mama was quiet and set our white suitcase by the closet. She looked at a bed and sat down on the edge like she was trying hard not to let her skin touch the bedspread. She picked up the phone and pressed buttons. Rainey and I were on the other bed, flipping through TV channels.
    â€œAlisha? Hey. Forest Pines.” I heard Mama talking real low. To my favorite person. Not that she was so awful, but she didn’t bring Mama up any. I thought she was jealous of how pretty Mama was. Alisha looked like a mixed breed to me, wiener dog and Chihuahua. “No. Huh-uh. Has he said anything?” She twirled the white cord around her fingers. “Well that figures. No. Tell him you don’t know where I am. Let him wonder . . . So how’ve you been?”
    Mama turned to look over at us, and I faced the TV real quick so she didn’t think I was eavesdropping. Which I was.
    â€œThat bad? Gee, I’m sorry, but you’re getting twice the tips, right? Me? Oh, I don’t know. Probably a cashier job at the supermarket. I’ll find something. Yes, she’s fine. Better than I expected. We’re getting ready to find her a grocery store. She’s got to bag every single day no matter where we are. No, I’m not kidding. Don’t laugh. It’s important to her, so it’s important to me. All right, then. No. Still don’t know what I’m going to do.” Mama grabbed her belly and said, “Three choices and not a one looks good. How about you choose the least worst for me?”
    I didn’t hear much more after that because I was caught up on that last part she said. The part about having three choices. I could tell the conversation had switched to the baby. Mama had three choices about the baby? I dug in my pocket and pulled out my list. I ran into the bathroom and flipped the light switch. There it was. Option one and option two. Keep the baby or give it away. But she’d said three options. What more could there possibly be?

    After spending a fair amount of time in the Piggly Wiggly, we drove by the old blue house again. Mama came to a stop right in front of the walkway and stared as if she was imagining walking it. Grandma Mona and Poppy were waiting for us, just like they said they’d be, so they hopped in and off we went to find the motel.
    â€œY’all have a nice time?” asked Poppy, holding his knees and chipper as usual. His bow tie was a little crooked. He was the only man I’d ever known who wore one every day, red with tiny black dots like a ladybug. “We had a nice walk, didn’t we, Mona?”
    â€œYes. Except for seeing Clarabelle Shoemaker. I didn’t care if I ever saw her again.”
    â€œHard to miss her, though, when she’s right there across the street.”
    â€œWell, I know but—”
    â€œRainey did such a good job, they gave us some leftover sandwiches from the deli,” I blurted out.
    â€œThat so? That’s wonderful, Rainey.” Poppy leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
    â€œWe got tuna fish and egg salad. Ham and cheese, but I don’t like ham. I took it off.”
    â€œThat’s right, honey,” said Mama. “You did a fine job. You’re a real hard worker. I’m proud of you.”
    Rainey’s face beamed in the blue light of dusk. For her, there was nothing more important than making Mama proud of her. I guess that went for me too. There was