at me. And saw me.
Her wide grin was as warming as a hug. “I’ve had the swellest day ever. Is Mom here?” She shrugged out of her backpack, tossed it into a wicker rocking chair, pulled off her pink jacket, and tossed it on a rung of the coat tree. “I can’t wait to tell her about our party.”
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“She’s not home—”
Bayroo’s eager smile faded.
“—but why don’t you tell me?” It is lonely to come home to an empty house.
Her freckled face once again glowed. “Okay. I’m starving. Won’t you have a snack with me?”
“I’d love that.” I flipped my notebook shut.
She hesitated, then asked quickly, “I don’t know what to call you. I know you are my great-grandmother’s sister, so should I say great-aunt?”
I laughed. “That sounds like a very distant relative. Why don’t you call me Auntie Grand?”
“Auntie Grand.” She listened as she spoke, then flashed me a smile. “Yes. You are Auntie Grand.”
In a moment we had a feast on the table. Mugs with steaming-hot chocolate and graham crackers topped with melted chocolate and marshmallows.
Bayroo licked away a chocolate mustache. “We had a monster style show and everybody voted. My costume came in third. We had candied apples with black licorice stuck to the sides, dangling like jellyfish tentacles. “ She grinned and gave a mock shudder. “Mrs.
Gordon showed a vampire movie in social studies and told us all about Bram Stoker. It was the most fun day ever. But tomorrow will be even better!” She wiped a smear of marshmallow from her chin.
“The Spook Bash is going to be the most exciting party in the history of Adelaide. You remember how I told you last night that we met Travis Calhoun—”
When Bayroo had shared her news last night on the rectory back porch, I’d been much more attuned to the proximity of Lucinda to the exposed tip of Daryl Murdoch’s black leather shoe.
“—and he said he would come. Well, his aunt’s a teacher and she came by homeroom and told me Travis was really excited to be in-158
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vited. It’s all because I asked him and I was the one who saw him.
Lucinda was scared to stay in the preserve. She was a scaredy-cat and went to the other end of the block and watched his aunt’s house from Mrs. Berry’s yard and I had to come and tell her after I actually talked to him. I did it all by myself and we would never have been able to run into him, you know, like it was a real accident, if I hadn’t hidden behind the big cottonwood in the preserve and watched for him.” Bayroo’s eyes shone. A quick frown tugged at her eyebrows.
“You won’t tell Mom, will you?”
“Of course not.” I munched another bite. “It sounds exciting. Who is Travis Calhoun?”
Her sandy eyebrows shot up. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.
“How could you not . . . Oh, sure. I guess you don’t watch a lot of TV
or go to the movies where you are. Anyway, he’s really famous.” She twined a strand of red-gold hair in her fingers. “Travis played Huck Finn on Broadway. He has freckles, too.” She gave an impish smile.
“Maybe that’s why he liked me. He made movies when he was a little kid and now he’s fifteen and he’s the star of
Oh, you’d love his show. He got killed in a car wreck and now he’s an angel and he comes back and he helps kids who are getting in scrapes.”
I almost explained that in theological terms, Travis’s character was a ghost. Angels are supernatural creatures and messengers of God. But it didn’t really matter.
“My dad says he’s a ghost, not an angel, and I guess you know that.
But it is way cool and when the show starts he wears these big golden wings and I told Dad it’s dramatic license.” She nodded wisely.
Obviously, I didn’t need to worry about Bayroo’s religious instruction. Or her perception. “Where does he live?”
“In Hollywood.” She breathed the name in awe. “In Beverly Hills.
I saw a story about him in
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chauffeur drives him to the studio in a Bentley.” She looked at me.
“That’s a really fancy car. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?” A mansion in Beverly Hills. “What about his family?” Some of the sparkle left her eyes. “His mom died when he was little, like maybe four or five. He lives with his dad, who’s a big Hollywood director, and his stepmother. She’s a movie star. He usually comes here and stays with his aunt on holidays because his dad and stepmom have lots of places to go and things to do. This time he’s here for his birthday. I’ve already talked to the music teacher and she’s going to bring the sixth-grade chorus and we’re going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him and I want to give him a special present.” Her face fell. “But what could I give somebody like Travis Calhoun?” I pointed at the oven. “Do you like to cook?” Bayroo nodded.
“I’ll bet no one ever makes him a homemade birthday cake.” Fancy cakes are fine, but nothing ever tastes as good as homemade.
“Why don’t you call his aunt’s house and ask him what his favorite cake is?”
