Daisy Lane by Pamela Grandstaff

fashion magazines to know her clothes were probably as expensive as they looked. She smiled at Grace and caught her staring. Grace looked away, embarrassed.
    “Introduce me to your friend,” the woman said to Tommy, who was now on his feet and brushing off his coat.
    His face was flushed in embarrassment but he smiled at her in a friendly way.
    “This is Grace,” Tommy said to the woman, who stuck out her hand to shake Grace’s.
    “I’m Claire Fitzpatrick,” she said. “My family owns the Rose and Thorn.”
    Grace had never been in the bar but you couldn’t miss it; it was right on the corner of Peony Street and the west side of Rose Hill Avenue. They played loud fiddle music in there that Grace kind of liked. Late at night, if it was just about to rain, she could hear it as she lay in bed. Grace also knew Tommy’s mother had worked there before she went away.
    “Are you related to them?” Grace asked, subtly gesturing up the hill at Maggie and Hannah, not wanting to be rude enough to point.
    The sharp wind was blowing Maggie’s wild red mane all around her face, and she was struggling to control it. She finally twisted it around and shoved it down in the back of her coat. Maggie’s hair reminded Grace of Lyra’s daemon in the His Dark Materials trilogy, acting like an unruly daemon she was fond of yet aggravated by.
    “Maggie, Hannah, and I are all cousins,” Claire said. “Our fathers are brothers.”
    “She just moved back here,” Tommy said about Claire to Grace, and then to Claire, “Grace and I’ve known each other since kindergarten.”
    “Where do you live, Miss Grace?” Claire asked.
    Grace said, “Down by the river,” and looked away, not wanting to see the reaction she usually got.
    “So we’re neighbors,” Claire said. “It was nice to meet you.”
    When Grace looked back at Claire, she was smiling in a sincerely friendly way. Grace smiled in response, mumbled, “Thanks,” and then was embarrassed. The woman would probably think she didn’t have any manners.
    “Where are you headed?” Claire asked Tommy.
    “Up to the library to do homework,” Tommy said.
    “Tell Ed I want to run in the morning after breakfast,” Claire said. “Tell him I said to stretch beforehand or I’m going to leave him in the dust.”
    Tommy said he would. He and Grace continued on up the hill to where Maggie and Hannah sat on the wall. Hannah jumped off the wall and then up onto Tommy’s back, pretending to attack him. Tommy grinned as he dropped his bicycle and backpack, grabbed Hannah’s legs, and took off with her, running around the lawn outside the community center. Hannah was screaming, Tommy was laughing, and Grace smiled in spite of her determination not to. It looked like fun.
    “Hey,” Maggie said to Grace. “Doesn’t your grandfather have the greenhouses down by the river?”
    Grace’s smile folded back up inside of her as she nodded, not meeting Maggie’s eyes.
    “He’s had some really beautiful flowers this year,” Maggie said.
    “You did not spend money on flowers,” Claire said. “As cheap as you are?”
    “I didn’t say I bought them,” Maggie said. “Looking is free.”
    “Well, I bought a pot of tulips for my mother and they’re gorgeous,” Claire said.
    “Thanks,” Grace said, but her eyes were on Tommy and Hannah.
    “Don’t mind Hannah,” Claire said. “Tommy’s like one of the family.”
    “I know,” Grace said. “I don’t mind.”
    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in my store,” Maggie said.
    “I don’t buy books,” Grace said, feeling uncomfortable.
    “I never did, either, when I was growing up,” Maggie said. “I was a library girl.”
    “Me too,” Grace said.
    Maggie asked Grace about what she was reading and seemed sincerely interested. As they talked Grace covertly studied her. Grace had never been this close to Maggie before, having only seen her from a distance. Grace’s peers referred to the bookstore owner as a