Mother? Mother, are you in there?”
Conrad’s shouting and frantic pounding, muffled by the closed door, sounded like a television cop show coming from a great distance. Amethyst looked up at the clock, then smiled at her great-granddaughter, who was seated in the opposite chair.
“Right on time.”
Little Am nodded. “Like clockwork.”
Amethyst struggled to her feet and motioned for Am to follow.
“You want the gun?” Little Am pointed to the shotgun that was resting against the fireplace.
“Not right now. You can come get it if need be.”
Amethyst opened the front door and peered at her son through the iron grillwork.
“Open up, Mother! This nonsense has gone on long enough.”
“No, Conrad.”
“I’ve been to the judge, Mother. She said—” He stopped suddenly and looked over his shoulder at the sheriff, who stood directly behind him. Clearly, he had been about to concoct some outrageous story, but Buddy Rice’s presence kept him honest.
“Said what, Conrad?” Amethyst threw a smile over her shoulder at Little Am.
“She said we need to work this out like civilized people.”
Amethyst nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Finally!” Con heaved a sigh of relief and tempered his tone. “Let us in, Mother, and we’ll talk about this.”
“I don’t think so.”
Conrad let out a string of curses.
“Does that sound like civilized conversation to you?” she asked Little Am.
The girl shook her head. “I think he needs to have his mouth washed out with Drano.”
“I taught him better,” Amethyst sighed. “I really did.”
“Mother, listen! You’ve got to let us in, and that’s all there is to it.”
Amethyst peered at Buddy. “Is that all there is to it?”
Buddy grinned. “No ma’am. It’s entirely up to you.”
“Then good-bye, Conrad. Come back when you’ve given up this idea of carting me off to the home. And when you can keep a civil tongue in your head.”
“But Mother, you cannot stay here by yourself any longer. It’s just not reasonable.”
Little Am stepped forward and pointed her finger at her grandfather. “Alone? What do you think I am, anyway?”
“You’re an idiotic teenager who doesn’t know what’s good for her.”
Mimsy stepped forward and laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Conrad, there’s no cause to insult people. Am, are you all right?”
“I’m cool, Mimsy,” Am replied. “No problems here.”
“You’re going to leave this house and come home with us right this minute,” Con ordered.
“No, I’m not.” Am planted her hands on her hips. “I’ve got spring break, and teacher’s meetings come after that. I don’t have to be back to school for two weeks. And I plan to spend them right here with Grandam.”
“I brought you some clothes, honey,” Mimsy said. “And your CD player and a portable TV. I thought you might be bored.”
Con turned on her. “You did WHAT?”
“Well, the girl needs clothes, Con.”
“You already determined you’d let her stay?”
Mimsy shrugged. “A good mother anticipates.”
“Thanks, Mimsy,” Little Am said. “I would like the clothes, but you can forget about the TV and CD player. I won’t be needing them. The last thing I am right now is bored.”
Con stared at his granddaughter as if she had just morphed into an alien being. “You—you don’t want rock music or television?” he stammered.
“Nope.”
He turned on Amethyst. “What are the two of you doing in there?”
Amethyst smiled benignly. “Girl stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”
“And you won’t let us in to talk? Not even for a few minutes?”
“Not a chance. Not until you come to your senses.”
Con’s face turned a bright red. “Mother, you’re the one who needs to come to her senses. I’ve done what I’m supposed to do—I tried to talk reasonably to you. We’ll just let the judge decide what happens from here on.”
Amethyst began to shut the door. “Fine, Conrad. Leave Little Am’s suitcase on the porch. And be sure to let me know how it turns out.”
While Con was still shouting at her, Amethyst locked the door in his face. She turned to Little Am. “Now what?”
Am grinned. “First, I’ll wash up the breakfast dishes. Then you have a promise to keep.”
“More of the story?”
“Much more. I can’t wait to hear about your wild and reckless youth.”
When the dishes were done, Amethyst settled in the den with a second cup of coffee. “All right. Now where were we?”
“You were born. Silas just died.”
“Of course. One going out while the other was coming in,” Amethyst mused. “But I’ll have to skip a few years. We’ll pick up when I was—oh, just about your age.”
“Cool.” Little Am settled into her chair and popped the top on a can of Diet Pepsi. “I’m ready.”
“All right. It was 1917—”
“World War I,” Little Am supplied.
“Ah, yes, the A in history.” Amethyst nodded. “I didn’t expect the war to affect us much, but it did. . . .”