Cinnamon (Shooting Stars 1)

"Okay. Let me speak to her. Let's see what she says to me," he said and I handed Mommy the phone.

"It's Daddy," I said.

"Hello, Taylor?"

She listened.

"I need you to get something," she said and then she put the phone aside and looked at me. "What do I need? I forget."

"I'll tell him later. Mommy. Don't worry."

"Oh. Good. It's all right. Taylor. Cinnamon knows and will tell you. Is everything all right?"

She listened and nodded as if she thought he could see her through the wire, and then she handed me the phone.

"Hello?"

"I'll try to get there," he promised me.

"Whatever," I said.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm terrific. Matter of fact. Daddy. I think I'm going to win the Academy Award this year for the best all-around performance as a loving

granddaughter. She was rearranging the living room when I left this morning. The bathrooms might be next, if she can pull up the toilets and tubs."

"All right, all right," he said in a tired voice. "I'll have a talk with her this week. I promise."

"You know what promises are. Daddy? Lies with pretty ribbons tied on them. I'll see you later." I added quickly and hung up.

Mommy stared at me and for a long moment. I thought she realized what was really happening and was coming out of it, crawling up from the dark pit of her temporary madness into the light of day like a restored heroine about to do battle, with all the forces of evil. We'd be a team again.

Then she smiled that strange, distant smile.

"You know what I want you to do?" she asked. I shook my head. "I want you to sneak a camera into the prenatal intensive care unit and take Sacha's pict

ure for me. Bring it here next time, okay. Will you?"

I took a deep breath to keep my throat from completely closing and nodded.

"Good." she said. "Good." She closed her eyes again. I reached for her hand and held it and sat there for nearly half an hour, waiting for her to open her eyes again.

She didn't and when the nurse looked in. I rose and smiling at her told her I was tired, too. I'd be back tomorrow,

"She'll be better in a matter of days," she promised.

Another lie wrapped in a pretty ribbon. I thought and went to the elevator.

There was a different receptionist behind the desk in the lobby when I stepped out. She looked up at me. but I didn't feel like performing anymore.

I hurried out and to the car where I sat for a while, catching my breath. I dreaded going home, not only because of what else I might find my

grandmother had changed but because Mommy's absence, the heavy silence in light of where she now was, would be hard to face. Instead, on the way. I stopped at a pizza place and bought myself a couple of slices. I sat in a quiet corner and ate them watching some younger kids talk animatedly, a pretty girl of about fourteen at the center, wearing headphones and listening to a portable CD player while the boys vied for her attention.

I envied their innocence, their wick-eyed fascination with everything they saw, touched and did. How had I grown so old so fast? I wondered.

After I ate. I decided to call Clarence. I needed to talk to someone.