A Smidgen of Sky by Dianna Dorisi Winget

Ginger and I used the garden hose to rinse off the worst of our dirt while Ben went around front to get Mama.
    I heard the car door slam and Mama giggle.
    â€œHere she comes,” Ginger whispered.
    Mama shuffled into view, one of Ben’s big hands clamped over her eyes as he guided her toward us. “What in the world’s goin’ on, Ben Hutchings? And what’d you do with the girls?”
    â€œSold ’em to a slave trader passing on through. Got a hundred bucks a head.” He brought her to a stop right in front of the garden and lowered his hand, nodding to Ginger and me.
    â€œSurprise!” we shouted.
    For a split second, confusion flickered across Mama’s face, but then she saw what she was supposed to be looking at, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Get out of town. It’s a raised bed.”
    â€œFor your garden,” Ben said.
    Mama turned and threw her arms around him as though she didn’t even notice how dirty and sweaty he was. “Have I ever told you what a great guy you are?”
    He hugged her back and winked at me over her shoulder. “I can’t take all the credit. The girls helped, too.”
    Mama gave Ginger and me each a hug, then started gushing about black-eyed peas and beans and collard greens, telling us what-all she was going to plant where.
    Right about then is when my stomach started rumbling. “All this talk about food is sure making me hungry.”
    â€œMe too,” Ginger said.
    Mama dug out a pizza from Ben’s freezer and put it in to bake while the three of us got a more thorough washup. Ginger loaned me a clean shirt. Then, not long after we’d eaten, Mama pushed her chair back with an unhappy look and said that we’d better get going.
    Ben scowled. “Do what? All my hard work today, and all I get is a lousy hour of your time?”
    Mama edged over and sat on his knee. “I know. I’m sorry. But I have to get to the bank before it closes, and I told Piper Lee I’d take her to the library for a bit, too. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
    I tried hard not to act surprised when she mentioned the library; I’d forgotten all about it. Now that Ginger had found the letter, there didn’t seem much point in going, but I waited to tell Mama until we were on our way home.
    â€œHow come?” she asked. “You seemed so sure about it this morning.”
    â€œI just don’t feel like going now. Too tired, I guess.”
    â€œThat garden was sure a surprise. Thank you for helping.” She sighed. “Ben’s so good about doing nice things for me. He spoils me rotten.”
    â€œI bet Daddy did plenty of nice things for you, too.”
    â€œHmm? Oh, well, sure, honey. Course he did.”
    â€œLike what?”
    She hesitated, as if she might answer wrong and upset me. “Well, he took me out to supper a lot. And he used to buy me flowers—carnations. Those were his favorite. And we’d go dancing sometimes.”
    â€œI didn’t think you liked to dance.”
    â€œI don’t, actually. I’m lousy at it. But your daddy loved it. He just loved going out and doing something, anything—the wild and crazier the better. He was always dragging me here and there.” Her voice softened. “I have no idea what drew us together; we were so different.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œMmm. Your daddy was such a free spirit. He liked to make his own rules, and he loved taking risks.” She paused. “He was still in the Air Force at the time, the most exciting man I’d ever met in my life. Plus, the fact that I was only eighteen and he was thirty made him pretty impressive, too.”
    â€œSounds like a lot of fun.”
    â€œOh, you bet. We had tons of fun. But then you came along and the risk-taking didn’t seem so fun anymore. It scared me then. Funny how having a baby changes your whole outlook on things.”
    I