“Thank you.” I nodded. “That’s nice. I’m glad to be here.”
Mr. Dewey returned? What did that mean?
After the videos and CDs were unwrapped. After I’d dusted things. After I’d helped a little girl find her older brother, I stood at the back of the children’s section. Here, two large windows, floor to ceiling, looked out at the Peace River, which was nearly a mile across at this point. In the distance was a dark line of green, the other shore. Past that, the ocean. South down the coast a ways, St. Augustine.
“You’ve been in town and not stopped to see me,” I said at the river. I was too shocked to feel pain, though I knew it was in there somewhere. Trying to find a place to hide in the memories, maybe.
I stood at the window a long time. Thought of Aunt Linda’s reaction when she came home a few minutes after I got Momma out of the closet. Her finding us in the kitchen, me dabbing at the blood with a damp dish towel. Aunt Linda freaking out. Us finally getting it out of Momma that she had scratched most of the skin from her face because Granddaddy had said it would keep her safe.
Now I hugged myself and looked at the water, the way the sun made bright little chips of light on the surface.
“Momma,” I said under my breath, “I hope this Winn-Dixie job is good for you. You got to get better.”
“She needs help,” Aunt Linda had said, bandaging Momma up. “You need help, Angela.”
But Momma had just smiled. Both Aunt Linda and me, we tucked Momma into bed, kissing the side of her head.
None of us ever talked about that incident again. Momma didn’t go for help. But she did kick Aunt Linda out.
Momma and me alone at the house in the city of Peace. With Granddaddy telling her what to do. And me cleaning up after it all.
You need help, Angela. Lacey—you need help.
And I did. I did. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Hey.”
I almost jumped out of my skin at the voice. Turning, I saw Aaron.
“You scared me,” I said.
“Isn’t it time for you to go home?” he said.
For a moment I stood at the edge of the library, tucked full into the memory of my family and their craziness.
I glanced at the clock. “Yeah, it looks like it. Have to pick my momma up at the Winn-Dixie pretty soon.”
Aaron showed his crooked teeth in a small smile. His forehead was sweaty.
“I’ll go with you then. We’re headed the same way.”
With me, I thought. With me sounded good. Me not alone if he went with me.
You need help.
“Okay, that’d be real nice,” I said. We walked from the children’s section of the library, waving good-bye to John. One last time I looked around.
Oh, Aunt Linda.
VIII
While we waited at the bus stop, Aaron let me try his skateboard. I was pretty bad. And thumping around in my head was the thought of Aunt Linda so close and never stopping to see me. It made me ache all over. Even my skin felt funny. Like I had the flu or something.
“It’s okay, Lacey,” Aaron said. He touched me on the elbow with a finger. “I’ll teach you how if you want. We’ve got the summer.” He smiled. “I’m a pretty good teacher.”
My mind was full of excuses. Full of Momma. Of responsibility. Of no Aunt Linda.
“Not really,” I said.
“Not really what?” In the sun and heat of the day, Aaron squinted at me.
Clack, clack, clack, said his skateboard on the sidewalk.
We stood near the concrete bench, waiting. I squinted too and stared off down the road. I could see the bus coming, just an ant of a thing. I shrugged at nothing.
What should I say? I didn’t want this little bit of time to be over. Without meaning to, I liked Aaron. He was nice. Like a gift. He had appeared from nowhere, someone to be my friend after summers of no friends. After months of nothing but Momma.
Still, I knew sure as beets that my time was twisted tight in Momma’s fists.
“I have this job.” I motioned to the library behind us. “Five days a week. While my momma’s working at the Winn-Dixie.”
I have Momma, I thought. I have to watch her. Care for her. Pat away her sadness.
Aaron looked off to the bus that chugged closer, stopping off down the road from us. The afternoon sun played on the gold in his hair. He shrugged. “So you come a little earlier. Or we stay a little later. I mean, if you want.” He paused. “Do you want to?”
A part of me did want to.
A part of me was scared of skateboarding.
Of being away from home too much.
Still.
“I’m not real sure. I think it’d be fun. Let’s talk to Momma when she gets on the bus.”
“Okay.” He was quiet a moment.
“Yeah,” I said, a bit of excitement coming up into my stomach. It burned out to my palms. “Yeah. That would be fun. Let’s see what she says.” I smiled, feeling almost what normal used to feel like.
For that second, I was free.
I shrugged again. So what, I had thought about Aunt Linda so much? So what? I didn’t need her. It was Momma and me. And on the side it could be me learning to skateboard. With Aaron.
The thought was round and soft in my head. I couldn’t help but smile again.
A dad with two small children hurried to the bench to wait with us.
“Bus is coming,” said the littlest. She jumped up and down on one foot, her curls bouncing. “Bus is coming.”
“You know, I could come to your house,” Aaron said. “You wouldn’t have to leave at all. We could skate out on the street.”
“Maybe,” I said. Could it be true? Could someone—a guy even—want to do something with me?
His face turned pink. He drummed on his knees like he heard a song I didn’t.
The bus stopped in front
