the river, visible through the trees, curved around. Someone had recently done some work with a trackhoe, pushing up a ridge of gravel that made a gray scar on the green landscape. Mandy took a deep breath and turned back inside.
As she knelt by one of her boxes to find a towel, she noticed the phone sitting on the floor. Remembering that Fran had said that she could call out, she lifted the receiver to try it. The dial tone buzzing in her ear suddenly reminded her how far she was from home, and she grabbed her purse and fumbled in a zipper pocket for her phone card. Holding it in a trembling hand, she whispered the string of numbers under her breath, punched in the sequence, and waited while it rang once, twice, three times. Disappointed, she was just about to hang up when she heard a breathless voice.
“Hello?”
“Mom?” Mandy’s voice had a catch in it.
“Who’s this? Mandy?”
“Oh, hi, Leesie. Where’s Mom?” Mandy sniffed and wiped her eye with the corner of the blanket.
“Are you all right?”
“I think I was a bit homesick for a moment. Silly. Is Mom there?”
“She’s in Chicago, remember? Some sort of conference for reading teachers.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.” Mandy slumped against the wall.
“Is anything wrong? How is Washington? What’s the district like? Have you got an apartment yet?”
“What are you doing home, Leesie? I thought you were going to stay at the Millers while mom was gone.”
Leesie was Mandy’s half-sister. Younger by eleven years, she had been born a year after Mandy’s mother married Conroy Wheeler.
Mandy’s life had changed dramatically with that marriage. Her mother had been a single mom at sixteen, and Mandy had learned early about hard work and strict economy. With the support of Mandy and her own parents, Mandy’s mother had finished high school and put herself through college. She had just finished her degree when she met and married Conroy.
Conroy brought more to the union than economic freedom. He brought color to a world that Mandy only remembered in black and white. Although a successful CEO of a large grocery chain, he loved music and drama and was head of the Albuquerque Allied Arts. Under his aegis, a new performing arts center was built, and he actively promoted the support of young artists in the community. He made sure that Mandy studied piano, and when she wanted to play jazz instead of classical music, he cheered her on. His sudden death last year had drained the color out of the world again. It had come back, or she thought it had, with the person who used to call her cherie .
“I forgot my history notes and had to come back for them,” Leesie said. “I was just going out the door when the phone rang. You didn’t answer me. Have you got an apartment yet?”
“Yes. I moved in last night.”
“What’s it like?”
“Well, it’s a small district. Um, I really can’t tell more than that. I just got here.”
“No, not your school. Your apartment. What’s it like? How many bedrooms?”
Mandy could picture her sister on the other end of the line. Tall, blonde, vivacious, a natural leader— everything Mandy was not. Leesie had her father’s exuberance for life and his single-mindedness. Mandy sighed and figured she’d better tell her what she wanted to know. “My house is something out of Sunset magazine.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I’m not. It’s an A-frame, about a stone’s throw from the river. The front is all glass, and I’m sitting in the upstairs bedroom right now, looking out at mountains and forest, with a river running through it. Belongs on a calendar.” But on a calendar the sky would be blue .
“How many bedrooms?”
“Two. And two baths.”
“Sounds wonderful. Do you have a phone number yet? I’ll give it to Mom.”
“Not yet. I’ll email her. You’d better go. You’ll be late for school.”
“Yikes— I already am. But that’s okay. It was great to talk to you.”
“You
As she knelt by one of her boxes to find a towel, she noticed the phone sitting on the floor. Remembering that Fran had said that she could call out, she lifted the receiver to try it. The dial tone buzzing in her ear suddenly reminded her how far she was from home, and she grabbed her purse and fumbled in a zipper pocket for her phone card. Holding it in a trembling hand, she whispered the string of numbers under her breath, punched in the sequence, and waited while it rang once, twice, three times. Disappointed, she was just about to hang up when she heard a breathless voice.
“Hello?”
“Mom?” Mandy’s voice had a catch in it.
“Who’s this? Mandy?”
“Oh, hi, Leesie. Where’s Mom?” Mandy sniffed and wiped her eye with the corner of the blanket.
“Are you all right?”
“I think I was a bit homesick for a moment. Silly. Is Mom there?”
“She’s in Chicago, remember? Some sort of conference for reading teachers.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.” Mandy slumped against the wall.
“Is anything wrong? How is Washington? What’s the district like? Have you got an apartment yet?”
“What are you doing home, Leesie? I thought you were going to stay at the Millers while mom was gone.”
Leesie was Mandy’s half-sister. Younger by eleven years, she had been born a year after Mandy’s mother married Conroy Wheeler.
Mandy’s life had changed dramatically with that marriage. Her mother had been a single mom at sixteen, and Mandy had learned early about hard work and strict economy. With the support of Mandy and her own parents, Mandy’s mother had finished high school and put herself through college. She had just finished her degree when she met and married Conroy.
Conroy brought more to the union than economic freedom. He brought color to a world that Mandy only remembered in black and white. Although a successful CEO of a large grocery chain, he loved music and drama and was head of the Albuquerque Allied Arts. Under his aegis, a new performing arts center was built, and he actively promoted the support of young artists in the community. He made sure that Mandy studied piano, and when she wanted to play jazz instead of classical music, he cheered her on. His sudden death last year had drained the color out of the world again. It had come back, or she thought it had, with the person who used to call her cherie .
“I forgot my history notes and had to come back for them,” Leesie said. “I was just going out the door when the phone rang. You didn’t answer me. Have you got an apartment yet?”
“Yes. I moved in last night.”
“What’s it like?”
“Well, it’s a small district. Um, I really can’t tell more than that. I just got here.”
“No, not your school. Your apartment. What’s it like? How many bedrooms?”
Mandy could picture her sister on the other end of the line. Tall, blonde, vivacious, a natural leader— everything Mandy was not. Leesie had her father’s exuberance for life and his single-mindedness. Mandy sighed and figured she’d better tell her what she wanted to know. “My house is something out of Sunset magazine.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I’m not. It’s an A-frame, about a stone’s throw from the river. The front is all glass, and I’m sitting in the upstairs bedroom right now, looking out at mountains and forest, with a river running through it. Belongs on a calendar.” But on a calendar the sky would be blue .
“How many bedrooms?”
“Two. And two baths.”
“Sounds wonderful. Do you have a phone number yet? I’ll give it to Mom.”
“Not yet. I’ll email her. You’d better go. You’ll be late for school.”
“Yikes— I already am. But that’s okay. It was great to talk to you.”
“You
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