'Hello,' he said, with a total lack of welcome or enthusiasm. 'Where are you, Harper?'
'I'm in Memphis, Hank, thanks for asking.'
'I guess Tolliver's with you?'
'Oh, you bet,' I said, cheerful as all get-out. 'It's cold and wet here. How about in Dallas?'
'Oh, can't complain. In the fifties today.'
'Sounds good. I'd like to talk to Mariella, if she's around, and then Gracie.'
'Iona's gone to the store. I'll see if I can track the girls down.'
What a stroke of luck. I held the phone to my chest while I told Tolliver, 'The Wicked Witch isn't there.' Iona had a deep fund of excuses to keep us from talking to the girls. Hank was not as resourceful, or as ruthless.
'Hey,' said Mariella. She was nine now, and she was a lot of trouble. I never told myself she'd be an angel if she lived with us, because I knew better. For their first few years, Mariella and Gracie had never had the care and attention of parents who were in their right minds. I'm not saying my mother and stepfather didn't love their girls, but it wasn't the kind of love that would prompt them to become sober and responsible. At least we older kids had had that, once upon a time. We knew what was right and proper. We knew what parents should be like. We knew about fresh sheets and home-cooked meals and clothes that only we had worn.
'Mariella, it's your sister,' I said, though of course Hank had told her who was on the phone. 'What's happening with you?' I had tried so hard, and so had Cameron and Tolliver. Even Mark had stopped by with food from time to time, when he'd had extra money.
'I got on a basketball team,' Mariella said, 'at the Y.'
'Oh, that's great!' Actually, it was. It was the first time Mariella had given me anything besides a sullen grunt. 'Have you started playing yet, or are you still practicing?'
'We have our first game in a week,' she said. 'If you were here, you could come.'
I widened my eyes at Tolliver to let him know this call was not going as usual. 'We'd love to,' I said. 'We have to check our schedule, but we'd be really glad to watch you play. Is Gracie playing, too?'
'No, she says it's stupid to get out there and sweat like a pig. She says boys don't like girls who sweat. She says everyone will call me a lesbo.'
I heard a shocked exclamation from Hank in the background.
'Gracie's wrong,' I said immediately. 'She just doesn't want to play basketball herself. Maybe you can play basketball a little better than Gracie, huh?'
'You bet,' said Mariella proudly. 'Gracie can't come within a mile of the hoop. I hit it twice last practice.'
'I'm sure there's something Gracie can do that's special to her,' I said, floundering to be diplomatic and yet reinforce the positive stuff that was going on with Mariella.
'Huh,' said Mariella derisively. 'Well, anyway.'
'Have you all had your school pictures taken this year?'
'Yeah. They should be back soon.'
'You both save us two, you hear?' I said. 'One for your brother Tolliver to carry in his wallet, and one for me to carry in mine.'
'Okay,' she said. 'Hey, Gracie joined the chorus.'
'No kidding? Is she around?'
'Yeah, she's coming in the kitchen right now.' Sound of a scuffle.
'Yeah?' This was Gracie, all right. Gracie was deep into hating us.
'Gracie, I hear you're in the chorus at school.'
'Yeah, so?'
'Are you a soprano or an alto?'
'I dunno. I sing the melody.'
'Okay, probably a soprano. Listen, we were thinking of coming to one of Mariella's games. Do you think you could sit with us if we did?'
'Well, I might be there with my friends.' Whom she saw at school, every day, and talked to on the phone half the night, if Iona was to be believed.
'I know that's important,' I said, back to being Switzerland, 'but we don't get to see you too often.'
'Okay, I'll think about it,' she said unenthusiastically. 'Stupid basketball. When she runs down the court, her cheeks bounce up and down. Like a hound dog's.'
'You need to be a good sister,' I said, maybe not as neutrally as I could have wished. 'You need to cheer for Mariella.'
'Why should I?'
Okay, not neutral at all. 'Because you're damn lucky to have a sister,' I began, my voice hot, and then I heard myself and backed off. I took a deep breath. 'You know why, Gracie? Because it's the right thing to do. Here's your brother.' I handed the phone to Tolliver.
'Gracie, I want to hear you sing,' Tolliver said. That was exactly the right thing to say, and Gracie promised to find out when the chorus would be singing for the first time so Tolliver and I could put the date on the calendar.
