Andie

Angry hands grabbed me.

“Andie, are you hurt?” Uncle Greg said.

“Don’t move her,” an officer said, pushing him aside. “Just lie still for a minute,” he said to me.

“Andie, what do you think you’re doing here?” Uncle Greg demanded.

The policeman told him to back off, in a firm, polite way that Greg didn’t argue with. Once they decided I wasn’t hurt very badly, they got me an ice pack and sat me in a chair away from the door. The nurse with the ice pack said she had to unlock the emergency doors now. So it was a trap after all.

The officer took out a little notebook. He asked me what my name was.

“Andrea Lockhart. Winslow.” I pointed to the backpack the other cop was holding. “That’s mine. My school ID is in it.” Deja’s ID was safely in my back pocket.

He radioed in that I was found and safe and wrote it into his book. I wondered what a rap sheet looked like, and how long mine was going to be.

“Well, Andrea, I’m Officer Dunn. You’ve got some people mighty worried about you, young lady. You mind telling me why you ran away?” He looked really big in his uniform, with his leather holster squeaking every time he moved.

“I wasn’t running away. I just wanted to see my grandpa.”

“Is he a patient here?” he asked.

“He was. But he’s gone.”

“Andie, we moved him to another care facility today,” Uncle Greg interrupted.

The policeman gave him a look.

“Well, we did!” Uncle Greg said to the cop, turning away with his hands on his hips.

Officer Dunn gestured to another policeman, who took Uncle Greg across the room. Then he asked me why I left the way I did, and when I explained, it sounded really lame. I could tell he wasn’t happy with me. Maybe his shift was supposed to be over, but he had to hang around looking for this crazy runaway. Maybe I interrupted his dinner.

God, what will happen to me now?

The emergency door opened, but I was crying, and all I saw was a blur.

“Andie!”

I rubbed my eyes. Marty. She took a step forward and covered her mouth with her hand. I jumped up and ran to her. She reached out for me, gathering me in. I buried my face in her neck, and she hugged me so tight. It felt so good, like falling into a soft vanilla cloud.

She pulled back my hair and took my face in her hands, examining my forehead.

“Baby, what happened to you?” Her eyes were brimming with tears.

I told her how I hit the door. Officer Dunn came up, and she didn’t look too happy with him.

“Are you her mother, ma’am?”

“Yeah, she’s my mom,” I said.

Marty looked me in the eye, and her face crumpled up. No words came out, but her head bobbled frantically like the hula dancer on the dash of the Dodge.

He wanted to see her ID, just to make sure she wasn’t trying to steal me or something. Whatever.

We sat in the waiting room, and Marty kept her arm around me the whole time. I noticed her hair was messed up and her clothes were dirty, so I asked her what happened.

“Just a little car trouble,” she said, like it was no big deal.

It took awhile to get everything straightened out at the hospital, but the officer said they didn’t need to fingerprint me or take mug shots. I think he just said that to scare me. It was eleven thirty before they said we could go. Uncle Greg said we could spend the night at Grandma’s, since it was so late. Marty looked worried at first, not letting go of my hand. But I said I wanted to, and she said okay.

We didn’t talk the whole way over to Grandma’s in the Toyota. I didn’t know what to say. Marty kept looking over at me and squeezing my hand, sniffling and smiling at the same time.

She asked to use Grandma’s phone to call Carl so they would know I was safe. I felt really guilty then, because I’d made them all worry about me. Well, maybe not Deja.

The next morning at Grandma’s breakfast table, we talked. Uncle Greg had arranged for Grandpa to move to a convalescent hospital, since his hip was healing and Grandma couldn’t take care of him alone. I guess Marty had done some good when she told him off on the phone.

I apologized for scaring everybody and promised to never, ever do anything like that again. Marty said Deja felt really bad about the things she’d said. Uncle Greg had called from the hospital to tell me that Grandpa had been moved, and she’d lied about it to scare me.

“Andie,” Grandma said, “I have some news. We’ve sold our house—”

“Oh, Grandma!”

“But I’m afraid we won’t be buying another one.” Her hand, thin and creased like an old folded map, covered mine on the table. “Honey, we love you very much, your grandpa and I. But we’re old, and we can’t get around like we used to. It’s not the place for a young girl to grow up.” She patted my hand. “We’re moving to an apartment with people who can help out with things, like doctor visits and meals.”

Uncle Greg spoke up. “It’s a modern assisted-living facility. It’s a great place for Mom and Dad. They won’t have to worry about anything. And they’ll be with other people. Someone will look in on them every day. I’ve checked it out. It comes highly recommended. Top of the line.”

If it was top of the line, it probably cost him a lot. Maybe Dad was wrong about Uncle Greg being all about money, or maybe Uncle Greg was trying to make up for the times he hadn’t been a very good son. Either way, it was a relief to know it wasn’t all up to me anymore.

“Now, I need to ask you a question,” he said. He glanced at Marty, then back at me. “Robin and I have discussed it, and we’re willing to have you come and live with us, Andie, if you want to. We’ve already contacted an attorney about it. You probably got the notice about the hearing.”

Marty barely breathed.

“We heard that you weren’t happy in Newberry with … your present family. Now, I’m going to leave it up to you. We don’t want to force you into anything. I loved your mom and dad, and I know they’d want you to be happy. So.” He put both elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “What’s it going to be? Do you want time to think about it?”

I looked at Marty until she looked back. Her mascara smudged her eyes into shadows, and her hair was clipped all messy on the back of her head. She’d been through a lot for me.

“No. I want to stay where I am,” I said to her. “Can I, Marty?”

She squeaked a little gasp, then reached over and squeezed me tight. She was crying, and laughing too. I guess that was a yes.

“Can I still visit Grandma and Grandpa?” I asked.

“As long as you don’t pull another stunt like you did last night,” she said, trying for serious, but she couldn’t help smiling. “As often as we can.”

Uncle Greg looked relieved. Maybe he didn’t want my money, after all.

“If you want to visit your cousins some time, we’ll fly you up,” Uncle Greg offered.

“Sure, thanks,” I said. I’d file that one away.

After breakfast, we said good-bye to Grandma and Uncle Greg, but before we left, Uncle Greg pulled Marty aside and they talked on the front porch. I could see them through the window. She wiped her eyes with a tissue and put her hand on his arm. Whatever he said must’ve been a real downer. I wondered if he was straight up about Grandpa’s condition.

Marty took me to see Grandpa at the care home before we left. He was sitting up in bed and still coughing, but he was talking, and Marty said his color was good. I told her how badly he had scared me, barking like a sick seal over the phone, but she explained that it meant his congestion was breaking up. It was a good thing after all.

Neither of us told Grandpa what happened the night before. I didn’t want him to feel like he was responsible for my mess.

In the car, I asked her what Uncle Greg was talking to her about on the porch. She said my cousin Kyle had been diagnosed with Niemann-Pick. They’d thought he might get lucky, but he got it late like his brother. They didn’t want to tell Grandma and Grandpa, and that’s why he and Aunt Robin hadn’t been around much. Marty told him to be honest with them.

And then she got serious with me.

“Everybody’s glad you’re okay and that you’re coming back. But, Andie, you can never do something like this to us again, especially not after what we’ve gone through in the last couple years.” She kept her eyes on the road ahead. “If you’re going to be part of the family, we have to be able to trust you. And you have to trust us. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I felt crummy. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” My voice sounded hoarse.

She reached across the car seat and cupped my chin in her hand, giving me a tearful smile. “I was afraid of losing another daughter last night.”

“I prayed that you would come, Marty. I guess God heard me.”

“He heard me too, baby. He always hears us.” She wiped her eye with a knuckle. “You know, when you first came to us, I wanted so badly to be a normal family again. Like we were before Ginger died. I probably wasn’t fair to you.”

I looked up at her, waiting.

“Well, I tried to move on, without really considering everything you were dealing with. I mean, about your parents. Maybe I rushed you a little.”

My eyes dropped to a candy wrapper on the floor.

“Is that why you felt you couldn’t wait to see your grandpa, because of what happened to your parents?”

I nodded.

“You poor kid. Can you talk to me next time? Tell me how you feel?”

“Okay.”

Carl was home when we got there, and he hugged me tight. I think he was surprised that I hugged back. Winnie was glad to see me, and Deja even came out of our room when she heard us come in. She said hi and went back inside.

That night I unpacked my suitcase into my drawers.

I wouldn’t say things were great between me and Deja, but the whole episode had released some steam from her jets.

“You okay?” she asked, not looking up from her magazine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, ’cause you owe me seventy-five dollars,” she said, in her old voice.

“I have some of it in my backpack,” I said.

I was handing over thirty dollars when Marty came in and snatched it from my hand.

“Where did you get all this money, Deja?” she said as she counted it.

Deja buried herself in her magazine. “I saved it last summer,” she answered.

“And how much was your bus ticket, Andie?” Marty asked.

“Forty-five.”

“Seventy-five dollars,” she said to Deja. “Where did you get it?”

Deja was silent. Marty turned to me.

“Where did you find the money, Andie?” she asked me.

I looked up in dread. There was a whole roll of money in that jacket pocket. Stuck between Marty and Deja again. This was becoming a habit.

I didn’t say anything, but my eyes automatically darted to her closet.

I saw a satisfied look on Deja’s face behind the magazine when Marty went through her closet, even checking Ridley’s coat pockets. It wasn’t surprising that Marty came up empty.

“You and I will be having a discussion before the drive-in opens,” she told Deja. “Andie, you will be manning the register all summer.”

I may be slow, but by the time Marty left us, I had it all figured out.

“I’m not paying you back that money, after all,” I said, grabbing my book and finding my place, propped on my pillow.

Her voice was poisonous. “You what?”

“You stole that money from the drive-in.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t steal it. I just borrowed it.”

That sounded familiar.

“It’s the same thing. I’m paying my forty-five dollars back to Marty, not you,” I said. “Just remember, I saw that roll of money in your pocket.”

“Whatever.” She put down her magazine and rolled over on her side facing me. She had a devilish look on her face. “So what’s it like, running away? Were you scared?”

I thought about Sylvia in the bus depot and walking to the hospital in the dark and hiding with people chasing me. But I knew that the really scary part was almost losing my way with Marty.

“Yeah. It was scary,” I said. “But not like you think.” I rolled over with my back to her and buried my nose in my book.

Monday was a school day like any other, just like nothing had happened over the weekend. I wondered if Deja spread the word that I was now a runaway.

Natalie and her friends closed in on me at recess.

“I want to talk to you,” she said, hugging her notebook to her chest like a shield of armor.

Her friends turned toward one another, pretending to be talking about something else.

“Okay.” We stepped away from them for privacy. I chewed my cuticles, waiting for her to start.

“I heard something, and I want to know if it’s true.” She looked taller. And really mad. Maybe she was powering up to pound me.

“What?” I asked, trying to sound normal.

“I heard you said my family was a bunch of pathetic losers, and there was no way you would ever come to my house. That we probably had fleas, or lice, or some flesh-eating bacteria.”

“What!”

“And that you drew a picture of me on the back of your binder. With horns and junk.” She was so in my face, I had to take a step back.

“No, that’s Deja! Look.” I flipped over my binder and showed her the drawing. “See the heart on her shirt? It says Ridley. And she has a nose ring. She got her nose pierced over spring break.”

Natalie backed down a little, but still wasn’t convinced.

“Well, maybe you added that so I wouldn’t know it was me.”

The huddle of girls watched us with hooded snake eyes, and I shifted to move them out of my direct line of sight.

“Who told you this stuff?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Scott.”

“Scott Worley? And you believed him?”

She looked over her shoulder at the huddle of girls. “Well, he didn’t exactly tell me. But I heard him laughing about it.”

Suddenly, it hit me. Deja. Deja must have put him up to it.

“Wait. This all started back when I lost my chain.”

I filled her in on the battles that had gone on while Marty was working overtime.

“Why would Scott care about that?” she asked.

“You know his sister, Summer? Well, she’s Deja’s best friend. They’re joined at the hip. She was probably helping Deja get payback. You know, for making it look like she had my chain.” It had worked too, I thought to myself.

Natalie thought about it for a long time. I could see it playing on her face.

“Natalie, why would I say that stuff about you?” I asked. “You’re the only friend I have here.”

Her grip on her notebook loosened, and she rested it on her hip. She chewed her bottom lip. I could almost hear the wheels grinding in her head.

“But that day I asked you to go to the mall after church, you guys weren’t doing anything. Why didn’t you come?” she asked.

That was a tough one. I wasn’t sure myself, but I had to make it good.

“I was scared,” I said.

“Scared?” She sounded offended. “Of what?”

“It wasn’t you, or your family, or anything. I don’t know.” I stared at the ground, trying to conjure courage from the asphalt. “It’s just that I haven’t had a friend in a long time. And …”

She waited. I shifted on my feet.

“And I didn’t want to be sorry when it was time to go back home to Pine Run.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. “We could still write. I mean, if you want.”

The bell rang, and I smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll tell you at lunch.”

The bird lady came by again. This time she seemed nicer, and she smiled when I went to stand next to Marty and put my arm around her waist. I convinced her that Cyclops never came into the house anymore, which was true because she had six kittens in the garage and never left them alone. I even tried to give the lady a kitten, but she sneezed when I held one up to her face.

I asked Marty if the lady would come back, and what about court. The court date was in June. She said her attorney, Mr. Walker, said there wouldn’t be any problem that he could see. Since I wanted to stay there, and Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have a place for me to live with them, and Uncle Greg had decided not to fight for me, the judge would probably let me stay. But I could visit Grandma and Grandpa any time I wanted. And Ms. Wren wouldn’t be coming back very often.

Marty wasn’t baking so much anymore. You could open the freezer without triggering an avalanche of cookies and bread. She could even make coconut dandies without shorting out.

The first day I dug out shorts from my dresser, the windows were open in the house and you could smell the mowed grass. Somebody in the neighborhood fired up a barbecue. It was the middle of May, and Marty’s little tire-boats in the yard were blooming with flowers, and the birds were singing like crazy.

I passed barefoot by the kitchen in the afternoon and saw this strange guy sitting at the table. Not strange, like a skinhead with pentagrams around his neck, just different. He was dressed nice, like a dad.

Marty and Winnie stood by the sink with Winnie’s arms wrapped around her waist. Marty smiled kind of embarrassed, because the man was eating one of her cookies and his eyes were rolling back in his head.

Marty looked really pretty. Happy. Her hair was up in a pony-tail with little wispies hanging down, and her cheeks were pink, and she was biting her lip. He said something about her bakery, and she laughed and said it was the Blue Moon Bakery. Then she saw me. She introduced me as her daughter, and that felt weird, in a nice way. I remembered seeing him at church.

He said, “Hey, kiddo,” and smiled.

He seemed like the kind of person that it was okay if he acted like he already knew you.