A Sky for Us Alone Page 5

  “Your mother made this?” She took the pie from my outstretched, sweating hands.

  “No, we all just call her that. You’ll see why when you meet her. If you want to meet her.”

  “She sounds really nice, and she’s the first person to give us a welcome present, so I’m sure I’d like to meet her.”

  “Oh, good,” I said. My mind went blank while I looked at her standing in front of me. I hadn’t thought of what I would say next.

  “Well, be sure to thank her for us,” Tennessee said.

  “Everyone says she makes the best. Pies, I mean. If you like sweets.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so jittery.

  “Who doesn’t like pie?” she said. “Actually, I have an uncle who doesn’t like anything sweet, but he’s a miserable old man. Obviously Omie did not get that gene from him.” She rolled her eyes and put me a little at ease. “I’ll have to hide this somewhere safe or he’ll gobble it up before the rest of us even have a chance to taste it.”

  “Wanna go for a walk?” I blurted out fast, and hoped for the best.

  “Where would we go?”

  I scavenged my brain. “The pond isn’t far.”

  She tilted her head to the side and looked at me the way she had in the store, squinting, deciphering. “I’ll walk with you for a little while. We’ll see how it goes.”

  “Sounds good.” I felt my face turn as red as my hair, and couldn’t hide my smile, either.

  “Let me put this inside, and I’ll meet you up at the road in just a minute.”

  “Take your time,” I said, even though I didn’t want to let her out of my sight. Before I stepped off their porch, I noticed a car and the tails of two trucks sticking out from the brush around the side. Her daddy fit right in with everyone else in Strickland, more rides than he could use or were probably running.

  I walked out of the holler toward the road and tried to think of things I could talk about with her. She was smarter than I was, I could already tell that, and seemed different from any of the other girls I’d ever known. I’d only had the short thing with Victoria and a couple of other hookups, but I’d never spent any time worrying about what I’d say to those girls.

  I waited for Tennessee up by the deer-crossing sign, and kicked some rocks down the side of the road. Mr. Crowder drove past in his logging rig and waved hello. I was glad he couldn’t stop and have a conversation with me, because I wouldn’t have been able to get away once he started talking. I was beginning to feel like I’d been standing there for a long while, and wondered if Tennessee might have changed her mind about meeting me. I looked down the holler road, but saw no sign of her. Then I heard a “Hey!” come from the elderberry bush where the road dropped below, and I ran down into the field to meet her.

  “We can go the back way, if you like,” I said.

  “Yes, I would. I get the feeling people around here watch and do a lot of talking. No offense, or anything.”

  “None taken. Your instincts are right.” I hoped my smile looked as smooth as I meant for it to. The fact that she intimidated me didn’t make her easy to flirt with. “Sorry again for prying yesterday about your family. I understand not wanting to answer people’s questions.”

  “I guess it comes from moving around to a lot of small towns,” she said. “I shouldn’t be away from them for too long, just so you know. I told Omie I’d teach him how to draw a bunny later, and I still have The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter to finish. Have you read it yet?” She moved the thin purse strap from her shoulder to across her body.

  “It’s next,” I said, remembering my summer book list still crumpled at the bottom of my backpack. I made a mental note to call the library and see if they had a copy. I cared more about having something else to talk with her about than I did about getting a grade. “You just let me know when we need to turn around, okay?”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you came by, sorry if it seemed otherwise at first. It sucks always leaving friends behind, hoping you’ll make new ones in the next place.” The sun caught her collarbone and the gold necklace just below it.

  “How’d you get your name?” I asked, trying not to be disappointed that she’d used the word “friend.” “I’ve never heard it before. I mean, there’s the state, of course, but—”

  “Yeah, that’s what most people say. I’ve only met one other Tennessee, an older woman. She said she grew up as a trapeze artist with her family in the circus. My story isn’t nearly as exciting. Pretty silly, actually,” she said.

  “I’m listening,” and would for as long as she could talk. Her voice was soft but throaty—the kind of voice that carried in a whisper, but could yell something powerful.

  “All right, here goes. Mama and Daddy had this long-standing disagreement between them over their choice of liquor. Daddy loved Tennessee whiskey—Jack Daniel’s. Mama always favored Kentucky bourbon, the really smooth kind, and saved it for special occasions like birthdays, holidays, a quiet night with a book, which was always a very rare thing for her. Daddy made such a big deal of it and said that everyone, except Mama, knew that Tennessee whiskey was the best. Not that he’ll ever pass on a jar of good shine, or any kind of beer, for that matter. It became this weird thing he wouldn’t give up, even though there was no logic in it, but just an opinion he could carry on and on about forever.”

  She sounded and looked like she should be in a movie and have had a famous actor walking beside her instead of me.

  “Anyway,” she said after taking a deep breath, and slowing down a little, “when Mama was pregnant with me, Daddy said they’d name the baby Tennessee if it was a girl, and Kentucky if it was a boy, and somehow that would settle the argument between them once and for all.”

  “Did it?”

  “I guess in Daddy’s mind it did. But Mama stopped arguing with him long before that, because she knew there was no point in it.”

  “Why didn’t they name Omie Kentucky so they could both win?”

  “Mom said one child with an odd name was enough.” She moved the locket back and forth across the chain and peered at me over it.

  I couldn’t stop staring at her lips, and I also couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “Uh, can’t say I’ve heard of that many Omies, either,” I said.

  She laughed hard and touched my arm for a split second. “I know, right? It’s an even weirder name, but it’s from Mom’s family, so I guess it seemed normal to her.”

  “That’s pretty,” I said, pointing to the locket, but still thinking about her mouth, and feeling an extra pulse of energy from her touch.

  “This was in her family too,” she said, and pressed it against her chest, but didn’t say anything else about it.

  I worried I’d hit another sore spot, and picked up the pace to distract from the chance that I was right. The pond trail lay just ahead of us. I really wanted her to see Mohosh before she had to go. She hadn’t mentioned leaving yet, so I kept the pace. She was taller than most girls I knew, and even though she was thin, her long limbs held muscle, like she’d always climbed trees and swam in the summers.

  “Down here,” I said, and pointed to the path, holding a branch back for her.

  She stopped and looked at me, then back behind us—I figured it was to see how far we’d come and if she should turn around or keep going. “They’ll be okay for a little while longer,” she said, more to herself than me, and ducked under my arm and onto the trail.

  “Look out for the roots,” I said once the brush closed behind us. “They’ll pop up and trip you flat if you’re not careful.” The path had grown narrower than I’d ever seen it—the kudzu vine had grown over everything else, which meant that not many people were using the trail this summer. I scooted in front of her again, clearing space for us to walk. When our way widened, and we could see the pond sparkling ahead in the clearing, I heard Tennessee sigh next to me.

  She stood still and looked out over the water, then raised her eyes to the mountain beyond it. “It feels so differen
t here than anywhere else I’ve been in Strickland so far,” she said. “I bet you come here a lot.”

  “I used to. I’m sure I will again. I don’t really have a normal right now, if that makes sense.”

  “I think I know what you mean. Right now I feel very in-between. Waiting to settle into the new, but missing the old.”

  “Yep, that’s it. I can’t guess what it will feel like on the other side of things yet. Hey, if you want to sit and rest a minute, there’s a flat spot over there.” I pointed.

  “Okay.” She followed me but then stopped and leaned down to pick something up off the ground. “I think this is a geode,” she said, and passed the rock to me.

  “It feels light. Wanna break it open and see?”

  “Not now,” she said. “I want to imagine what might be inside for a while longer. Could be anything.”

  I held it out for her to take again, and when she reached, our fingers brushed for an instant.

  “Isn’t it crazy that we can change things just by touching them? All the tiny holes in this thing where water seeps in and mixes with minerals and oxygen to make crystals—what if just now we planted a crystal seed or changed the color of one?”

  “I had no idea that’s how it works. What do you hope is inside?”

  She rolled it around in her hands and thought. “I have a pretty nice citrine one, and azurite. I only have a fragmented amethyst, so I’d be happy if this was another one of those, more intact. Or smoky quartz—those dark gray crystals are really amazing.” She sat down beside me and crossed her legs. “Really any kind of crystal is pretty great with me.” There was a sliver of air between our knees. If either one of us moved the slightest bit we could touch again. The possibility hung in the air like a question.

  “What is that?” She pointed to the biggest house in Strickland, up on the side of the mountain.

  “Somewhere you never need to go.”

  “Why? It looks incredible. Who lives there? The mayor?”

  “Might as well be.” I thought of warning her about the Praters, but told myself to hold back. I didn’t want to scare her too much, and she’d find things out soon enough. “You said your daddy’s the new foreman at the mine?”

  “Yes. He told me that he got an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  “You can understand why, looking up there. It’s where his new boss, Amos Prater, lives.”

  “He must have a lot of children. Not to mention money,” she laughed.

  “Yes to both, but not many of his kin live there anymore, believe it or not.” I swatted away the mosquitoes and other things I wanted to say about Amos.

  “You obviously don’t like him. The look on your face makes that very clear.”

  I laughed. “You and Mama Draughn are going to get along just fine.”

  “I like everything I know about her so far. But back to that guy.” She tossed her head at the mansion. “What’s his story?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but then bit the inside of it. All of a sudden, I saw Nate lying in his blood like it was happening all over again right there in front of me, Tennessee, and Amos Prater’s mountain. Even in the shade, the heat seemed to rise an extra twenty degrees, but my skin went damp-cold. I swallowed against my tight throat, remembering the gas station earlier that day, and then Nate lying dead on the porch. Too much had happened in too short a time, or any amount of time, for that matter.

  “You look pale,” Tennessee said, and lightly touched my arm. “Stick your head between your knees and breathe.” She moved her hand to my back. “Tap your fingertips against one another like this. I know it sounds weird, but it helps. We’re sitting right here on this rock. That’s all that is happening. Just breathe.”

  She was right. I started to come back—first through new air in my lungs, then her touch, and then my own fingers tapping together. “Sorry,” I said. I wished I hadn’t given her so many reasons to think I was a disaster.

  “Does it have something to do with that house up there?”

  I was in too deep already. “My brother’s dead,” I said. “Tommy Prater did it.”

  She looked at the house again and was quiet for a few minutes. Then she turned and looked into my eyes. “Why?”

  I stared at the expensive brick and windows and hardened my jaw against them, but there was nothing I could do to stop the tears. They sprang on me, not caring where I was, or who I was with.

  “Never mind,” she said. “You don’t need to talk about that right now.”

  I was glad she knew the right thing to say, and also what to leave unsaid.

  “Our mom died last year.” She turned the geode in her lap.

  I inched a little closer toward her, and our knees finally touched. I thought about reaching for her hand, but they were both wrapped around the geode. I wondered if she was changing it again right then. “Has it gotten any easier?”

  “No,” she said immediately, then laughed a little. “Not really. Honestly, I’m so busy taking care of Omie that I haven’t even thought about what’s easier or more difficult, because I don’t have a choice but to keep going. But when I have a minute to stop, or Omie asks me about Mom, and I realize he is starting to forget her—it hurts almost worse than before. Sometimes there are days that I think of her and smile instead of crying, so I guess that’s the good news.”

  “Yeah. That helps a little.”

  “She used to tell us these stories that came down from her great-grandfather. He was Scottish. There was one about a mermaid and a fisherman. Apparently Scottish mermaids are also half-seals, in case you didn’t know.” She laughed a little. “This one mermaid left her seal skin on the beach, because she wanted to take a walk with human feet. The fisherman saw her and stole the skin so that she would be bound to him forever, but she always wanted to go back to the sea. Years later, one of her kids found the hidden skin and returned it to her, and then she ran back to the ocean, finally free.”

  “That’s kind of sad. What about her kids?”

  “I know. That part’s tough. But Omie and I like to pretend that now Mom is someplace where she always wanted to go back to. Maybe she was only meant to be ours for a little while.”

  “I guess I can see how that helps.” I don’t know if it was that she’d trusted me with so much right then, or if I was just excited to find someone who seemed to understand, but I leaned toward her lips without realizing it. We were less than an inch apart, our heat and shadows mixed.

  She quickly jerked away and blinked like she’d forgotten where she was, and how she ever got there.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and jumped to her feet. “I have to go. They’ll be getting worried by now.” She straightened her clothes and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “I wasn’t trying to—” I said.

  “No, it’s okay. I just really need to hurry now.” Her guard flew up again in a flash, and I felt awful for trying to kiss her. Whatever door she’d opened for me now seemed closed. I hoped she hadn’t locked it for good.

  I led Tennessee quickly to the path and then out into the field. She was silent, and I figured I’d irritate her if I tried for any conversation, so I kept my mouth shut too. As soon as we got close to Kinley Road, she said, “I can take it from here.”

  “Let me walk you home.”

  “No, it’s best if I go alone,” she said, and took a few steps past me.

  “Wait,” I said. “When can I see you again?”

  “I don’t know. I hardly have a minute to myself, and I really shouldn’t have been gone this long.”

  “There’s a party tomorrow night. Biggest one of the summer.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one of those,” she said. “That sounds great, but I doubt I can get away. I feel like I’m more of a mom than a teenager most of the time.”

  “I understand.” I looked down at the purse by her side. “Do you have a phone?”

  She nodded. “You?”

  We exchanged numbers.

>   “Thanks for taking me to the pond. And talking,” she said.

  “I probably said too much.”

  “Nope, just enough. I mean that. Okay, I really gotta run now.” She turned and started walking, and then jogging, the geode still clasped in her hands.

  Chapter 10

  A GROCERY BAG HEAVY with leftovers sat on her counter, right where Mama Draughn said it would be. The loud sound of a spinning metal fan came from their bedroom; neither one of them were anywhere to be seen or heard. I figured they were sleeping and didn’t want to wake them, so was careful to not let the door bang on my way out.

  I was too stirred up after the time with Tennessee to go home and sit still in our trailer, so I texted Jacob, Around?

  Pick me up, he said.

  He was waiting outside when I got to his place. “Mind taking me to Ryan’s?” He leaned through the passenger window. “The wheeler’s on empty, and my mom is gone for the day visiting Gran at the old folks’ home.”

  “Sure, I guess. I could use a couple of bucks for gas, though.”

  “No problem.” He handed me a five. “Come hang with us. I’m helping Ryan get ready for the party tomorrow night. We gotta pick up the keg and a bunch of ice.”

  “I need to take this food back to Mama. Anyway, I get the feeling Ryan likes hanging out with you solo. You know he’s always been weird to me since the thing with Victoria.”

  Jacob got in the car and handed me a beer. “Oh yeah, forgot about that. Bet he’s over it by now, though.”

  “No thanks, it’s a little early for me,” I said to the beer in his hands. He looked like he’d already had a few, the way he slumped into the seat and leaned against the door.

  He popped the top on the beer, and I started driving. “I guess Ryan’s always been jealous of you, come to think of it,” he said after he took a sip.

  “I don’t know what he’d be jealous of. He’s the one with all the stuff.”

  “Yeah, but he don’t have many friends. I mean real ones. Everyone comes for the booze, but they don’t show up unless there’s a party or something.”