Owen jumped into Sasha’s arms like a bear cub. She gave him a smacky kiss. “Get all better, okay Shm-owen? You hear me, little fella?”
Owen said, “K.”
The two girls clapped. Merry went upstairs and Mallory came down. As Sasha slipped out with a quick wave, Mally sat down next to Owen on the floor and let him run his truck over her stomach.
The door opened and Neely Chaplin came in.
“Sasha’s like a force of nature. Where’s she going now? She gets to skip practice. Coach Everson lets her. I guess because I have to admit, Mer, she’s so much better than all of us. Her toe touch is a full horizontal split in the air.”
“Ouch,” Mallory said. “That must hurt. And I’m Mallory, Neely. Merry’s upstairs. Did Merry forget to tell you? She’s not going to the practice either.” She spoke in a lowered voice, hoping Neely would leave before Merry had a chance to make it down, so that she could talk just a little more with her twin about Ben.
“I heard that Mallory! I am too going to practice!”
“My mistake,” Mally said.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever mixed you two up,” Neely said. There was a bounce and a clatter from upstairs. Merry’s timing was all off. She’d dropped her gear and would have to pick it all up. Neely went on, “Maybe it’s because you’re wearing normal clothes.”
“Well, yeah. Thanks. What I meant is, that toe touch must hurt.”
“It does. I work on it every week with my private coach. My thighs feel like somebody barbecued them afterward.”
Mallory looked up at the heavens for guidance as Owen began banging a spoon, his sign for food. She sat him in the high chair and opened a jar of pears, taking out the cooked carrots Sasha had left covered in the fridge. She gave him some of the carrots and a biscuit, along with a tiny cube of melon. Taking aim, Owen threw the melon straight at Mallory’s forehead. Sasha was right. He could end up being a little tyrant. But she had to smile anyhow. “I meant about the splits, Neely. I meant that it must hurt your feelings that Sasha can do it, and nobody else can.”
“Of course, that, too,” Neely said. “I’m used to being the best.”
“No doubt about it,” Mallory replied, listening to the sounds of her sister bounding down the stairs. “Sasha’s definitely the all-around human. Say, Neely, does anyone know what she does at her other job?”
“I do, of course,” Neely said.
Mallory let Neely savor the power of the information broker and then asked, “Well, tell. What does she do at night?”
“Oh, you know that old lady she lives with? She’s off her rocker and her husband can’t handle her. Plus she’s got something wrong with her too ... not just in the head. She has, like, seizures or something.”
“I thought that she lived with her aunt,” Mally said softly.
“No, she has a room and food and a small salary. Trista Novak told me. It’s out ...”
“... on Pumpkin Hollow,” Mally finished.
“Why’d you ask me if you knew?”
“Lucky guess,” said Mally, gently lifting her little brother out of his high chair and softly inhaling the intoxicating scent of his clean ringlets. Oh, Owen, she thought. I could bottle you.
“Neels?” Merry called. “You ready?”
“I’ve been,” Neely said, tapping her foot. “The car’s waiting.” Mallory smiled. She loved it when Neely behaved like the heiress queen.
Merry glanced in the hall mirror and put the finishing touches on her makeup, the merest touch of gold-not-quite-glitter high on her cheekbones and a vertical slash of raspberry in the middle of her lower lip. The All-County was the last of the basketball tournaments at school. Seven teams played to double elimination, with Ridgeline traditionally losing just when everyone in town gave up their cynicism and dared to hope. More importantly for Merry, it was an informal display of chops for cheer teams from Deptford, Kitticoe, Warfield, Melton, and a couple of other little towns. Deptford Consolidated, with the rugged sons of miners and machinists tromping the guys from Ridgeline into the paint every time.
But the cheerleaders took the opportunity to bring it on.
Merry would do her scorpion on top of the pyramid tonight and then front flip to the four stalwart mounts who would catch her. Campbell said that seeing it made her want to throw up every time. And then to the last moments of the cheer called “Heat,” Sasha would do her tumbling run, landing in front of the rest of the squad, who’d be in V stance.
For kicks and grins, and since Campbell was going to be home that night along with everyone else, Drew and Mallory were going to the game, too. Unlike Merry, Mally didn’t have to contort and starve herself beforehand to look cheer-a-licious, so she was looking forward to a rare treat—her mother’s eggplant parmigiana.
That evening, Campbell sat down with a sigh, pleased to be with her family, hollows of exhaustion at the inner corners of her eyes. She looked at Mallory with abundant love and weariness. Campbell was not in a good mood, but then, she rarely was anymore. The girls wished that their mother could love them more by laughing, less by worrying.
“I do too much, baby,” Campbell said tonight with a long look at her daughter. “I feel guilty. I’m missing the best years of your life.”
“Mom,” Mallory said softly. “We complain and moan. But although I really hate to say this, I’m proud of you.”
“Really?” Campbell asked.
“Really,” Mallory said.
“Campbell. Here’s what to do. Find a way to do less,” Tim said then. “Make a list of things you could do without.”
“What if you were at the top?” Campbell asked.
“Did you know that Sasha doesn’t live with her aunt?” Mally asked, stepping into the beginnings of a squall between the parents.
“Yes,” Campbell said.
“You knew that? Why’d she say so then?”
“I’m sure the reason that she doesn’t talk about having to board out is because it’s something she’s ashamed of,” Campbell said. “Do you want to make her more ashamed? She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.”
“Is there any way we can help more?” Tim said.
“I’ve tried to drop little hints about winter coats and such because that old camel-hair thing she wears is too thin,” said Campbell.
“I’ll get a ski parka from the store. She can at least wear it to school. We’ll tell her it’s got a flaw, so I’m getting rid of it anyway.”
“Would you Tim? I already asked Kate for anything she might have she could spare. She’s so slender and tall like Sasha, and she has such beautiful things.”
“Kate will be happy to help,” their dad said. “So would Karin. I’ll ask tomorrow when we go to the service.” Owen aimed and threw his carrots at Tim’s chin. He then applauded himself. Adam joined in.
“We want to come to the service,” Mallory said.
“Why?” Tim asked.
“We’re studying Vietnam,” Mally said. “I don’t mean that to sound disrespectful, but there’s a whole generation of people who were missing in action.”
“We’re aware of that,” Tim said with a smile. “They were my cousin Wyatt’s age. Wyatt would have gone, too. But he got a high number. He was right at the tail end of the draft.”
“What do you mean, a high number?” Mally asked.
“It wasn’t a popular war,” Tim said. “You know that. In fact, it was basically pressure and demonstrations from generations older than me that put a stop to it, and the last straw was finding out that President Nixon ...”
Mallory bit her tongue. Asking her dad one question opened the way to forty answers. Tim asked for another helping of eggplant and cut a bite, complimenting Campbell on what he called the first home-cooked meal he’d had in months. And then he continued, “So, nobody wanted to go. I remember the adults talking about it. They started a draft and used a lottery system for every day in the year. They sent out the numbers one New Year’s Eve. I can remember my
parents and Kevin watching. He was home from college. His number was, like, 299. But other people he knew ... they got number 9 or 19. And they knew that was it for them.”
“And then they had to go no matter what else they wanted to do with their lives? Or if they were in college? Or had a family?” asked Mallory.
“Now it doesn’t matter if you have a family,” Tim said.
“Tim,” Campbell said. “Save the speech.”
“Anyhow, my cousin Wyatt got a high number. David Highland did, too, but he went anyway. Big hero for the town. And so Ben, who was just a couple of years younger than David and idolized his big brother, dropped out and enlisted before he even graduated. David came back, but Ben didn’t. He was never found, so their parents kept hoping. There were these stories about Viet Cong soldiers up in these caves who didn’t know the war was over and still had prisoners.”
“But now they found him,” Adam said, wide-eyed.
“What was left of him. A few bones, some teeth, his senior ring ...” Tim said.
Campbell said, “Tim!” She glanced significantly at Adam.
“Campbell, he’s not a baby.”
“A few bones? Some teeth?”
“Hey, Campbell,” said Tim, using their mother’s favorite phrase against her. “It’s just biology!”
Campbell let it pass. She was half-asleep with her cheek pillowed on her hand. Mallory wondered if her mother could last until halftime to see Merry cheer. Big Carla was coming to put Owen to bed and look after Adam so their parents could go, but Campbell looked like someone should tuck her in too. Adam should be able to get Owen to sleep, Mallory thought. But her brother refused to stay alone with Owen since he’d gotten sick. Mally turned back to her father. “Dad. Now David, the brother who went to war and lived ...”
“He’s out in California. He has a bunch of kids. Four or five at least. Of course, he’ll be here. He’s already here. At least some of the kids were here too.”
“Since when is four kids a bunch?” Campbell asked sleepily. “You were the one who ...”
Tim stared his wife down. “At least four or five, from Adam’s age to college, I think. And he named one of those kids after his kid brother.”
“Are they all coming? The kids?” Mally asked. Drew would be here any moment to take her to the game. She wanted to get as much out of Tim as she could. She thought of texting Drew to wait up a few moments. But then they all heard the asthmatic honk of Drew’s truck in the driveway.
Campbell roused herself and began picking up plates. “Tell Drew he can come in here.”
“Mom?” Mally said. “Why?”
After instructing Adam to cover the baking dish with plastic, Campbell told Mallory, “That honking junk bugs me. He was all nice as pie until I broke down and let you go out with him a year before you were supposed to go out with anybody, and now he honks for you like you’re his servant.”
“Adam, do the dishes. Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mallory said.
The telephone rang and Campbell rapped on the counter with her knuckles before Mallory could flee out the front door. Rolling her eyes, Mallory stepped back inside and closed the door.
“Wait up,” Campbell said. “Carla Quinn needs a ride over. Her car won’t start. So you two pick her up first please? And then go on to the game.”
“Mom!” Mallory pleaded.
“You can stand to miss fifteen minutes,” Campbell said in a tone that didn’t invite an argument. “I’m not going to get her. I’m getting dressed. People in town don’t recognize me anymore unless I’m wearing a white coat.”
Big Carla’s house was small and as green as prussic acid. Mallory had no idea what prussic acid was, but when Drew said it, it sounded good. A limp Charley-Brown-type Christmas tree lay in the yard, with ears of cooked corn and cranberries and suet balls all over it. “It’s for the birds,” Drew told Mallory.
“It sure is,” she said.
“The tree is! People use dead Christmas trees to feed birds, nimble brain!”
“Oh, stuff a sock in it, Drew,” said Mallory. Tentatively, she went up to the door and knocked.
The kid Mallory recognized from the sporting goods store, where she’d come to buy soccer shoes, was Carla Quinn, the one everyone called Little Carla. She smiled and said, “You’re Adam’s sister.”
“Yes, I’m Mally.”
“He’s cute,” said the little girl, who had dark blue eyes and long red hair. She was only little in age, Mally realized. In fact, she was taller than Mallory and probably had a good two inches on Adam. Mally almost laughed. She had never thought of her brother as being old enough for a girl to think he was “cute.” But hey, he was in seventh grade. Meredith was “going out” with Will Brent in sixth grade.
For about six days.
“I’m here to pick your mom up to take care of Owen,” Mallory said.
“Please come in,” Carla said. “She’s just getting out of the shower. I’m waiting for my girlfriend’s dad to take us to the game. Your sister is the best, best cheer girl. I want to do that someday. I practice all the time. Mommy ... my mother ... says I can have lessons tumbling when she gets her degree and we have some more money. You don’t think it’s too late for me, do you?”
“Why?”
“Your sister started when she was six. That’s what Adam says.”
They were walking down a long narrow hall. The Quinns’ house was what Grandpa Arness, Campbell’s dad, called a “shotgun” house: If you stood in the front door, you could fire a gun right out the back door. All the rooms went off that one hall. “Our kitchen and our living room are at the back,” Carla said. “Come and sit down.”
“You know, Carla,” Mally said, her heart softening, “there’s a program at the high school where the cheerleaders take a little sister cheerleader and let her practice with the team and help her out.”
“There is?” Little Carla cried.
There is now, Mallory thought. For at least one cheerleader.
“Let’s sit in my mom’s sewing room,” Carla said. “It’s sort of our library too. Mom reads a lot.” She glanced at Mally. What’s wrong? My mom is just out of the shower. She’ll just be one minute. Please have a seat. I’m sorry she’s late.”
Mally said, “Sewing room?”
The room was filled with sewing projects and bolts of material. A pair of brown pants, probably capris, were still draped over the sewing machine. Different sizes of bookshelves lined the walls. But there was a baby rocking horse and a huge teddy bear, and the border around the top was a circus border.
Carla looked down at the toes of her shoes. “That used to be my little brother’s. Elliot’s. Ellie died two years ago. It wasn’t my dad’s fault. It was a drunk driver.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! You must miss him so much. My little brother’s been sick, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“It was when we just moved here from New Jersey. Dad was so happy. It was his first house with a backyard. I like to remember him being happy. Daddy ... I mean Dad, that is. My little brother was only nine months old. It’s been a long time. But sure, I miss Ellie. I’ll never forget him. Sometimes, before I wake up, it’s like he’s still here. I’m glad Mom’s getting stronger though. Mom just doesn’t want to give up these couple of things.”
Mallory thought, Poor Big Carla. Why would she want to give these little things up? But maybe those were the voices I heard in that vision! Maybe the woman arguing with the man about getting rid of old things that had belonged to someone else was Big Carla. But Carla had no husband. Those people were older, judging by their voices. And Big Carla was younger than Mallory’s own mother. And whom was she talking with about it? Little Carla’s grandfather? Her own father? And Helene ... who was Helene? And even if all that fit, if Mallory had dreamed it, it hadn’t happened yet.
Just then, Big Carla came bustling into the room.
“Mallory, I got busy with a pair of summer pants I’m making for Carly and lost tr
ack of time. Honey, here’s your five dollars and the extra phone. Don’t use it except for an emergency, and be sure that Mickey’s Dad drops you off by ten. Mr. Brynn promised he’d be home by 9:30 because he’s only doing inventory at the store, so I’ll probably be here before you are. Be a good girl.”
Mallory said, “I’ll ask my sister about that program. And I’ll tell Adam you like him.”
“Oh no,” said the younger girl. “I mean yes about the program but please no about Adam. I’d just die.”
Big Carla rushed out with Mallory and Drew got them back to the Brynns’ in record time. Carla got out and slammed the door without even bothering to thank them. Drew shrugged. “Was the kid nice?” he asked.
“Real nice,” said Mally.
“Hmmmm,” Drew said. “Maybe Carla’s just the quiet yet obnoxious type.”
STEAL AWAY HOME
By the time Drew and Mallory arrived at the end of the second quarter, Ridgeline was up by eight points. The gym was buzzing, thick with the atmosphere of wet wool, popcorn and excitement. Everyone in town seemed to be there. Even practical people, like Grandpa Brynn, had their faces in their hands, wondering when the big fall was going to come. It was pretty pitiful, Drew said. Ridgeline fans were so conditioned to failure that when Mike Corrigan scored a three-pointer, they hardly dared to cheer.
Mally and Drew found their seats. Just as they settled in, making pillows for their backs out of their coats, Mallory saw her parents arrive with Uncle Kevin and another man she didn’t recognize. They all found seats higher up in the stands near Mallory’s grandparents.
Out on the floor, Meredith was on her knees on the sidelines, pounding the floor with her pom poms. “We’re the best! Forget the rest! We’re the best! Go, go! Go west!” the girls shouted. Kitticoe High School was west of Ridgeline.
When halftime came and Ridgeline was up by eleven, people were acting as though it were New Year’s Eve.
The cheerleaders ran out onto the floor. The cheer was called “Heat.”
We have the heart and we have the heat
And we have the beat for ...