Read Online Greetings from Nowhere by Barbara O'Connor - Free Book Online Page B

Shawnee Gap, North Carolina.
    And then there was Aggie.

    The Sleepy Time Motel had belonged to Aggie and Harold. The ten little rooms. The sign and the swimming pool. The bird feeders, the flagpole, the garden.
    All of those things had been theirs.
    But now Harold was gone and Willow’s father had “closed the deal,” so all that stuff belonged to him. Willow could see happiness all over her father and sadness all over Aggie.
    Something about that seemed just plain wrong to Willow.
    And now here she was, sitting on a stool behind the counter in the motel office, waiting for guests to come and check in. That would be her job, checking the guests in. At least until school started in a few weeks, her father had said. She would ask the guests to sign the big leather guest book. Give them a map. Sell them some postcards. Give them a room key.
    The screen door squeaked open and Kirby stepped in. He looked surprised when he saw Willow.
    â€œOh, hey,” he said.
    â€œHey.”
    â€œMy mom told me to see if we got any mail.” Kirby shifted from one foot to the other. He cracked his knuckles. He popped his bubble gum. He pushed his greasy red hair out of his eyes.
    â€œI’ll check,” Willow said.
    She pulled a cardboard box out from under the counter and looked through the pile of mail.

    Kirby paced around the room, touching things, moving things. He gave the postcard rack a spin.
    Willow pushed the cardboard box back up under the counter. “No mail,” she said.
    â€œOkay.” Kirby darted out the door, letting it bang shut behind him.
    Willow went out on the sidewalk and watched Kirby running in a zigzag path back to his room. A few minutes later, he came out again, with that shoebox of his tucked under his arm. He ran over to the swimming pool and sat on the diving board. Then he took a pen and paper out of the box and began to write.
    Willow went back inside and sat on the stool behind the counter again. She wished Aggie would come out of her room and talk to her. She wished Loretta weren’t packing for a picnic over in Maggie Valley. She wished Dorothy would leave Savannah and come be with her. She wished she could go back to one of those days on the kitchen calendar that had Dorothy’s loopy handwriting on it.
    Willow’s school play.
    That would be a good day to go back to. Willow would be on the stage dressed like Betsy Ross, sewing a flag, and Dorothy would be sitting out there in the auditorium smiling up at her.
    But none of those wishes came true.

    Instead, Willow’s father came into the office and said, “Those sign guys are coming tomorrow afternoon.”
    â€œWhat sign guys?”
    â€œThe guys who are bringing the new sign.”
    â€œWhat new sign?”
    Willow’s father ran his hand over his hair. “Well, the new motel sign.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with the old sign?” Willow said.
    Her father fiddled with papers on the counter. “Well, actually,” he said, “I was thinking we’d spruce things up a bit, you know?”
    Her father moved the stack of maps from one end of the counter to the other. “This place looks, too, well, you know, old-fashioned,” he said. “If we’re going to attract tourists we’ve got to—”
    â€œI think the sign looks nice,” Willow said. She glanced back at the curtain over the doorway to Aggie’s room.
    Her father went on and on about all the plans he had for the motel.
    The new sign.
    The color of the paint in Room 3.
    The king-sized bed in Room 8.
    The ad in the newspaper.
    The billboard down by the main highway.
    But Willow wasn’t really paying attention. She was thinking maybe she’d give Aggie another china horse.

Kirby

    â€œNo, Virgil, the money did not get here.”
    Kirby watched the back of his mother’s head as she talked on the phone. Ringlets of damp hair stuck to her neck.
    â€œI’ve been living on bread