strangers around him either.”
“Exactly,” Grandma Gwenny said. “Someone who smokes has heavy metal residue in their hair and clothing even if they don’t do it around the child. Bad enough Carla Quinn does. I know she doesn’t smoke. But her friends do and that’s all over her. I’m not saying she’s a bad person.”
“But she’s weird,” Merry said. “She started crying over someone named Ellie when Owen first got sick.”
“Oh, mercy. That was such a sad thing.”
“You know about Ellie?”
“Well, yes, it happened just a couple of years ago, and she hasn’t been right since. She used to go to our church, but she’s part of this sort of Catholic cult now founded by a priest who left the church because it wasn’t strict enough.”
“Who’s Ellie?”
“This isn’t the time or the place,” Grandma said. She seemed to have come back from someplace far off and noticed that the voices around the table were growing quiet as, one by one, the other kids started listening in on her conversation with Mallory. “The important thing is that I love my Owen, and I likely won’t get to know him as well as I know you.” Mallory’s eyes suddenly glittered with unspilt tears. “Oh, Mallory. You act so much like the hard one. Your sister cries at the drop of a hat, and you put on a big act like you’re so past all that.”
“I can’t imagine Owen not knowing you.”
“Okay, I’ll live to be a hundred. That suit you? I’ll be an old pest and tell everyone what to do.”
“Thanks Grandma,” Mallory said. Gwenny put her arms around Mallory and had a flash in her own mind of Mallory’s children—of what a strong woman and a good mother she would be. Mally added, “I love you.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself,” said Grandma Gwenny.
After dinner, Mallory was afraid her stomach would protrude visibly, making all those beautiful shiny little fish scales stand on end like quills—while she was trying to dance and remember to press down on the ball of her foot and then step. Fortunately, the mermaid-glisteny dress had a little welcome stretch in it.
“I feel like I gained ten pounds,” said Sasha, feeling the strain in her tight-waisted gown.
“I wonder why Brynn’s grandparents don’t weigh two hundred pounds each with all that homemade pie and bread and stuff,” Drew added, as Sasha left. They all watched the ritual of Sawyer helping Sasha, who’d in fact eaten only about three bites of her dinner, into the front of his car. Even with the passenger seat canted far back, Sasha’s dress still stuck up in front of her face like a huge, diaphanous umbrella opened wide. They were both laughing, though, so Sawyer obviously didn’t mind. He was driving a Ford Explorer. All the richies had gas guzzlers.
In the Green Beast, Drew thought, Sasha would have had to sit in the trunk and dangle her feet.
“Grandma is always doing something, going a hundred miles an hour,” Merry said. “She’s always bringing meals to what she calls old people, even though she’s like seventy-five.”
“She’s seventy-seven,” Mally said.
“She looks ten years younger than that at least,” said Drew. “Did she have a face lift?” Drew stopped to let Neely get into the car.
“Who got a face lift?” Neely asked.
“My grandmother,” Merry said. “Except she didn’t.”
“Maybe she had, like, face work?” Neely continued. “Injectible wrinkle remover? My mom had it and she’s not even forty.”
“Crack me up,” Merry said. “My grandmother would be as likely to climb Mount ... Wait! Drew! There he is!”
They had just turned off Cambridge onto School Street when Merry saw the boy in the brown leather jacket walking along the side of the road. He was headed toward the school.
They passed him so quickly that when Merry turned to look back, the boy had vanished in the dark winter shadows.
“Neely, that was the new guy. He’s the one! I told you! He’s got blond hair cut like the
“Exactly,” Grandma Gwenny said. “Someone who smokes has heavy metal residue in their hair and clothing even if they don’t do it around the child. Bad enough Carla Quinn does. I know she doesn’t smoke. But her friends do and that’s all over her. I’m not saying she’s a bad person.”
“But she’s weird,” Merry said. “She started crying over someone named Ellie when Owen first got sick.”
“Oh, mercy. That was such a sad thing.”
“You know about Ellie?”
“Well, yes, it happened just a couple of years ago, and she hasn’t been right since. She used to go to our church, but she’s part of this sort of Catholic cult now founded by a priest who left the church because it wasn’t strict enough.”
“Who’s Ellie?”
“This isn’t the time or the place,” Grandma said. She seemed to have come back from someplace far off and noticed that the voices around the table were growing quiet as, one by one, the other kids started listening in on her conversation with Mallory. “The important thing is that I love my Owen, and I likely won’t get to know him as well as I know you.” Mallory’s eyes suddenly glittered with unspilt tears. “Oh, Mallory. You act so much like the hard one. Your sister cries at the drop of a hat, and you put on a big act like you’re so past all that.”
“I can’t imagine Owen not knowing you.”
“Okay, I’ll live to be a hundred. That suit you? I’ll be an old pest and tell everyone what to do.”
“Thanks Grandma,” Mallory said. Gwenny put her arms around Mallory and had a flash in her own mind of Mallory’s children—of what a strong woman and a good mother she would be. Mally added, “I love you.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself,” said Grandma Gwenny.
After dinner, Mallory was afraid her stomach would protrude visibly, making all those beautiful shiny little fish scales stand on end like quills—while she was trying to dance and remember to press down on the ball of her foot and then step. Fortunately, the mermaid-glisteny dress had a little welcome stretch in it.
“I feel like I gained ten pounds,” said Sasha, feeling the strain in her tight-waisted gown.
“I wonder why Brynn’s grandparents don’t weigh two hundred pounds each with all that homemade pie and bread and stuff,” Drew added, as Sasha left. They all watched the ritual of Sawyer helping Sasha, who’d in fact eaten only about three bites of her dinner, into the front of his car. Even with the passenger seat canted far back, Sasha’s dress still stuck up in front of her face like a huge, diaphanous umbrella opened wide. They were both laughing, though, so Sawyer obviously didn’t mind. He was driving a Ford Explorer. All the richies had gas guzzlers.
In the Green Beast, Drew thought, Sasha would have had to sit in the trunk and dangle her feet.
“Grandma is always doing something, going a hundred miles an hour,” Merry said. “She’s always bringing meals to what she calls old people, even though she’s like seventy-five.”
“She’s seventy-seven,” Mally said.
“She looks ten years younger than that at least,” said Drew. “Did she have a face lift?” Drew stopped to let Neely get into the car.
“Who got a face lift?” Neely asked.
“My grandmother,” Merry said. “Except she didn’t.”
“Maybe she had, like, face work?” Neely continued. “Injectible wrinkle remover? My mom had it and she’s not even forty.”
“Crack me up,” Merry said. “My grandmother would be as likely to climb Mount ... Wait! Drew! There he is!”
They had just turned off Cambridge onto School Street when Merry saw the boy in the brown leather jacket walking along the side of the road. He was headed toward the school.
They passed him so quickly that when Merry turned to look back, the boy had vanished in the dark winter shadows.
“Neely, that was the new guy. He’s the one! I told you! He’s got blond hair cut like the
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