“We haven’t been able to locate your mother or your brother, but we did need to see about you. We had no idea your mother had deserted you.”
“I’m fine here. Grandma and I are getting along real well.”
“Well, your dad didn’t have a lot of good things to say about his grandmother. Of course, we know how families are sometimes...” She was still looking straight ahead, holding tightly to the wheel.
“Daddy’s mad because of something that happened years ago. That’s why he told the police about Mama. He’s mad at her for not sticking by him when he was in jail. He’s probably mad at me, too.” The words were out of her mouth before she knew it.
The woman gave her a sharp look. “He has no reason to be mad at you, Angel. For all his faults, I think your father cares about you. He wants to make sure you’re all right.” She seemed to be searching Angel’s profile for lies. “He doesn’t believe your great-grandmother is capable—”
Angel looked her straight in the face. “Yes, she is. I swear to God. We do good together. You can ask anybody.”
“But that’s just it, Angel. Just who can I ask?”
“Well, you can ask me, or Grandma. We’re the ones who know best, aren’t we?”
“Angel, a couple of years ago one of our people asked you about your mother. Remember what you said? You said she’d turned herself around and was going to be a great mom for you and Bernie.” She was quiet a minute, staring hard into Angel’s eyes. “I’m not sure you’re the best judge, sweetie.”
“You can’t take me away. Please. You can’t.”
“I don’t want to, Angel, but it’s my job to make sure you’re safe, and hopefully”—she gave Angel a crooked smile—“happy.”
Happy. Sappy. Grandma was holding on to one of the porch pillars, her face shrunk into prune lines. She looked like something might blow her away if she didn’t hold on for all she was worth. Stand up, Grandma. She’ll see you over there caving in on yourself like a black hole. “There is somebody knows us both who can tell you how good we’re doing.”
“Someone close by that you see on a regular basis?”
“Yeah. Miss Liza Irwin. Grandma and her have b
een friends all their lives, and she’s been friends with me ever since I came last summer. We—I see her on a very regular basis, and Grandma just saw her last week.” No need to add it was at a funeral and the first time in about a hundred years.
“Where can I find this friend of yours?”
“She runs the library. She’s a librarian. All her family’s been librarians. The library’s that little house in the village between the store and the church. It’s got a big sign with her name painted right on it. You can’t miss it.” Angel was already getting out of the car. She gave the door a satisfying bang before retrieving her grocery bag from the backseat. With a swing of her hip, she pushed the rear door shut. “Miss Liza Irwin,” Angel called to the woman through the closed window. “She’s a leading citizen.”
The woman rolled down the window partway. “I get your message, Angel. Don’t worry. I’ll pay Miss Irwin a visit on my way back.” She wound up the window and started the motor.
“And tell Daddy I’m doing great, okay?” Angel was yelling now, smiling crazily, almost jumping up and down to prove how very healthy and happy she was as she ran toward the porch where Grandma still sagged like a whipped dog. She put her free arm around Grandma’s shoulder and waved. The woman nodded at them both through the windshield and began to back up.
“She gonna take you away from me, Angel?”
“Nah.” Angel shifted the heavy grocery bag, watching the car turn and head out the driveway. “Nah. I’m siccing Miss Liza on her. She won’t know what hit her. Could you open the door, Grandma? I’m ’bout to drop this bag.”
“What are you talking about, girl? You told her to talk to Liza Irwin? No telling what that woman will say about me!”
“Open the door, please.”
Grandma opened it, following anxiously behind. “Liza Irwin? I can’t believe you. You know what that crooked old thing’s liable to say about me?”
Angel put the bag on the table. “She’ll say I got a terrific grandma and I’m lucky as heck to get to live with you.”
“She’ll say nothing of the sort! Liza Irwin knows good and well I’ve hated her guts since I was six years old.”
“She won’t say nice things because she likes you, Grandma. She’ll say them because she’s Liza Irwin. Liza Irwin is just like George Washington. She cannot tell a lie.”
Grandma sputtered. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. How can you not hate someone too perfect to tell a lie?”
TWENTY-ONE
Shining Stars