by Leah Day
Crazy quilt math, Grandma called it, but Mally found it helpful today as she visualized the fractions dividing a square of fabric. Thankfully, Mrs. Smith didn’t mind her drawing on her papers and Mally found the little diagrams helpful.
At lunch she and Audrey stood in line together. As they stepped into the cafeteria they both breathed in deeply to smell what the kitchen was cooking. “Chicken pie!” they shouted in unison. Chicken pie days were the best.
Mally took in the smell of warm chicken and flakey pastry and it suddenly hit her – she was feeling happy. Almost immediately her throat closed and her chest seized. How could she possibly be happy? How could she be happy when Mama couldn’t get out of bed? How could she be happy when she’d never see Grandma again?
The room blurred as Mally wrapped her arms around herself. Audrey was staring at her now and her face burned with embarrassment. They stood in line in silence as Mally fought to hold back a sob. It felt like everyone in the lunchroom was looking at her. When it was finally too much she whispered, “Be right back,” and ran to the nearest bathroom.
Locking herself in a stall, she squeezed her arms tight around her chest. I don’t want to cry anymore, she thought. I don’t want to cry anymore. I don’t want to cry anymore.
But then she thought of everything that had changed and that her Grandma was probably dead somewhere and never coming back. She’d never again have a beautiful day learning fractions in her sewing room or eat her peanut butter cookies or hear her say her name in that funny way she said it.
At this thought, tears trickled down her cheeks. I don’t want to cry anymore, she thought as she broke down in sobs.
Eventually she was able to catch her breath and found herself on her knees in the stall. Gross. She stood up quickly and unlocked the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Great. Her bright red blotchy tomato face looked back at her. She rinsed her face with cold water, then hot water, but it didn’t do any good. When Mally really cried, there was no hiding it.
She wandered back into the lunchroom and grabbed a tray, but she didn’t feel very hungry now. After paying for her meal, she found Audrey, sat down and began mechanically eating her food.
“So I heard about this vendor at Renaissance Fair that sells corsets and dresses,” Audrey said, continuing the earlier conversation seamlessly. “I don’t know how much they cost, but wouldn’t it be cool to buy a corset and dress up? Remember we planned to do that last year? I think we should check out that vendor and see if they have our sizes.”
Then she was off talking through the costuming possibilities. Mally was grateful for the distraction and even more happy Audrey didn’t mention her messed up face. She let herself get pulled into the conversation, considering colors and costume designs.
“Wouldn’t it be cool to have a costume like the evil queen in Snow White? With that big thing around her head?” Audrey gestured with both hands. “What is that called?”
“A high collar?” Mally guessed. “I wonder if we could make some of the costumes before the weekend. Grandma’s sewing machine is still set up at her house. I can ask and see if we can use it. Even if we just made skirts, that’s something.”
Now that she said it, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. She hadn’t been in Grandma’s sewing room in months. It would be so nice just to sit in the sunny window and dig through her favorite scrap basket again. It had been her favorite place to play before Grandma disappeared.
“That would be awesome!” Audrey said. “I’ve never made anything with a sewing machine before.”
“Neither have I. Grandma wanted me to learn how to sew by hand first.” Mally gave a weak smile. “I’m sure sewing with a machine is much easier.”
They continued talking about different costumes they liked all through lunch. Mally loved the hats the good fairies wore in Sleeping Beauty, but she couldn’t imagine being able to sew something like that. Audrey liked the villains costumes best and wanted a purple dress with a tall black collar.
“And a cape!” she said, dancing around Mally as they walked back to class.
“Or a cloak,” Mally said. “Just in case it rains, it would be nice to have a hood.”
“Just don’t make it red,” Audrey giggled. “Or you’ll be Little Red Riding Hood.”
Mally shrugged as she sat back down. “I’d rather be Red Riding Hood than the Evil Queen any day.”
The rest of the day passed quickly, with reading time, a quick spelling test, and a science worksheet before heading outside for recess. On the playground, Mrs. Smith dismissed the class to play, but added, “Mally, can I see you for a second?”
Mally shoved her hands in her pockets and waited with her teacher as the other kids ran to play. Audrey waved her arms to indicate she’d save a swing for her and Mally smiled gratefully. Mrs. Smith caught her eye and her smile faded. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, Mally, I just wanted to check and see if you’re okay.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, looking down. She felt embarrassed her teacher had noticed she’d cried earlier. Why couldn’t she be normal, like everyone else? For the millionth time that day Mally thought, I have got to stop crying.
“I just want you to know that I’m here to talk if you ever need that. I understand you’re having a tough time this year. Just let me know, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mally nodded quickly, wishing she could go play.
“I just… Well, I lost my grandparents when I was about your age, Mally,” Mrs. Smith said. Mally saw a shadow cross over her face as her teacher adjusted her sunny yellow scarf. She gave her a sad smile and added, “It sucks.”
That was the last thing Mally expected to hear. “Thank you, Mrs. Smith.” And for a second, she wasn’t alone in her sadness.
“That’s all I wanted to say, Ms. Mally. You go play now.” Mally ran off to find Audrey on the swings.
When the last bell rang Mally grabbed her bookbag and walked out with Audrey to the buses. She waved good-bye to her friend and kept walking up the sidewalk that led to the middle and high school. It wasn’t a long walk and the street was lined with trees just beginning to change color for fall. Mally liked looking for the brightest yellow leaves she could find.
When she made it to the high school she slipped through the back doors and wandered through the halls to the front commons. She straightened her shirt and surreptitiously wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans as two tall boys walked by.
Stepping through the main doors, Mally began looking for Rose. She tried to remember what her sister had been wearing that morning, but she couldn’t remember anything except wanting to pull her hair out. She wandered through a crowd of laughing students and sat down on a bench to wait. After five awkward minutes, she slipped a book out of her bag to read.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t concentrate. Teenagers lounged over cars and stood together in groups through the parking lot. She felt like a freak sitting on the bench all alone. She kept listening for someone to point out she didn’t belong. She glanced over at a nearby group and spotted Rose in the crowd. Mally shut her book, relieved to see her sister.
But then she saw a boy standing behind her sister with his hands on her waist. Rose snuggled into him laughing, then turned to kiss him on the mouth. Right there in front of everyone. Ew.
The guy pulled back and whispered something in her sister’s ear. She giggled and nodded, and they walked off into the parking lot hand in hand. Mally watched, dumbfounded, as her sister climbed into the boy’s red car. He revved his engine loudly and everyone looked over to watch as they took off, racing out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust and gravel.
Mally didn’t know what to do. We’re supposed to walk to Grandma’s house together. Dad told us to walk together, she thought.
She stuffed the book back in her bag and hurried out of the scho
ol parking lot alone. She walked quickly along the sidewalk, her heart pounding so loud she couldn’t hear anything else. After four blocks she had to stop and catch her breath while waiting for a streetlight to turn.
She knew the way to Grandma’s house by heart, but this was the first time she’d ever walked there alone. It felt strange and she found herself questioning which direction to turn more than once. She’d never felt so aware of her surroundings and twice jumped behind a tree when a car drove past.
Mally turned onto Maple Street and walked faster. The houses on this street were older and the one in the middle always gave her the creeps. Rose had told her a ghost was in that house and she’d hated walking past it ever since. It was painted dark gray and the position of the windows and the door made the house look like it was glaring down at her. Mally gripped the straps of her backpack tighter as she practically ran past the driveway.
But soon she was forced to slow her pace. The sidewalk was sunken and cracked in many places and she had to step into the road to avoid the deep puddles left over from last night’s rain. Large trees lined both sides of the street, blocking out the sun, and Mally shivered as a cool breeze blew through her hair. She crossed the road and breathed out a sigh of relief as she read the sign for Oak Street. She was nearly there.
Mally turned the corner and squatted down against Mrs. Whittaker’s iron fence. She and Rose had taken to running past the old woman’s house in a crouch to avoid getting called over for a chat. She crawled along the sidewalk, the waistband of her pants digging painfully into her stomach. She stopped where the fence opened into the yard and glanced at the windows. All the curtains were drawn up tight and no lights were shining from the kitchen.
Thank goodness she isn’t home, Mally thought, straightening up. No one was nosier than Mrs. Whittaker. She wouldn’t be surprised if she spied on the neighborhood with binoculars from her second story windows. She always seemed to know everything and everyone and made no bones about sharing her opinion whether you liked it or not. The last time Mally had spoken to her, she’d suggested they sell Grandma’s house.
Never, Mally thought. The memory of that encounter still made her angry. We’ll never sell Grandma’s house.
She followed the sidewalk around the gentle curve of Oak Street and smiled as Grandma’s driveway finally came into view. Her white farmhouse was the oldest on the block, built on top of a small hill and surrounded with dozens of trees for which the street had been named. Mally had always thought the house looked like the queen of the street, standing taller and prouder than all the other houses in the neighborhood.
Her sneakers crunched on the gravel driveway as she ran the rest of the way, up the hill, through the garden, and across the porch to the side door. Mally caught herself on the frame, gasping for breath as she dug the key out of her pocket.
She unlocked the door to the mud room and was greeted by the alarm blasting in her ears. She punched in the code on the panel as fast as she could to silence the noise, then she unlocked the second door and let herself into the kitchen.
Lime green cabinets stretched down the length of the room, covered with a white countertop that had seen better days. The refrigerator hummed loudly in one corner next to a deep kitchen sink.
She shut the door and wandered through the kitchen to the small corner table. There was a much bigger dining table in the next room, but Mally always preferred to sit at the kitchen table to do her homework. Windows ran along the back side of the room, but the curtains were drawn, casting the kitchen into shadow. That curtain was never drawn when Grandma was here. She pulled it open, unleashing a swirl of dust.
Mally sneezed twice as she tucked the curtain into the hook by the window. With daylight shining brightly into the room, things felt better. Back to normal. She could remember so many Saturday mornings sitting here in the bright sunshine while Grandma made pancakes or French toast. Letting the sunlight dance across her eyelids, she imagined Grandma walking in the door with her arms outstretched saying, “There’s my Mally May!” The way she always greeted her.
On impulse Mally called out, “Grandma! Grandma! Are you home?” Even though she knew she was being silly, she waited and listened for a response, but of course none came.
The house had a slightly different feel now. Too quiet. Mally felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and wished Rose hadn’t ditched her at school. She pulled out her books and got started on her homework, trying to ignore the silence pressing hard against her ears.
Just when it felt like too much, she heard footsteps outside and her sister’s voice. The door opened and Rose walked in, dropping her bookbag in front of the sink. The tall boy from the parking lot followed, but he stopped short when he spotted Mally. “Oh, this is just my little sister.” Rose smiled a bit too brightly. “Mally, this is Rick.”
“Hi,” Mally said. Her sister looked different standing next to this tall boy. Rick ran his hands through his sandy brown hair and said, “Yeah. Okay. So, um, I guess I better get going.”
“No, please stay!” Rose pulled him towards the table. “I’m sure Grandma has some cookies somewhere around here. You’ve got to try her peanut butter cookies. They’re awesome.”
Mally’s heart pounded as Rick folded his lanky body into a chair next to hers. His arms were muscular with thick black hair running up the back. He wore a chunky ring that he spun around and around his middle finger.
Her sister was acting weird, overly cheerful and chatty as she rooted through the cabinets looking for a snack. When she found the cookies in the freezer she did a little dance, wiggling her hips which made Rick chuckle.
Rose carried the container over to the table and leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down to sit in his lap. Rose giggled, her back to Rick, as she sent Mally a glare that was impossible to misinterpret: “LEAVE.”
Mally had no desire to stick around. Abandoning her homework she announced, “I need to check Grandma’s computer,” and escaped from the kitchen. There wasn’t a computer in Grandma’s house anymore, but Rick didn’t know that. She just wanted out of the room and away from her sister.
She wandered through the house and up the steep steps to the second floor. She thought about taking a nap. Grandma had set up a guest room for her and Rose when they were little, and it was still decorated to look like Dorothy’s journey to Oz, complete with a yellow brick road, the Emerald City, and a scary green witch painted on the walls.
But now that she was upstairs, Mally remembered her plan to sew costumes with Audrey. She walked past the guest room and down the hall to Grandma’s sewing room. She tried the door and it stuck a little bit. She pushed harder and the door finally popped open, revealing the special room.
She leaned against the door frame and took a deep breath. The smell of cloves with a hint of lemon filled her nose. Mally looked around and smiled at the familiar arrangement of tables, cabinets, and chairs. A large white table sat under a row of windows with Grandma’s sewing machine installed in one corner.
The room curved around a corner of the house and Grandma had once told Mally she’d combined two rooms to create this one space. In the far corner, a window seat had been built into the wall and was covered with baskets of colorful fabric scraps and piles of patchwork quilt blocks. More piles of fabrics, blocks, and baskets dotted the floor.
A green wing-backed chair was tucked along the back wall with a bright lamp close by for hand stitching. Anywhere there wasn’t a window on the wall, there was a brightly colored cabinet instead. Mally’s favorite cabinet was fire engine red and had over fifty drawers in sizes ranging from smaller than her fist to bigger than a shoebox.
She loved going through all the little red drawers and finding the treasures Grandma stashed there. It was filled with thread of all different colors and thickness, yarns, sequins, buttons, and beautiful bits of fabric Grandma had collected over the
years. One of Mally’s favorite activities was to pull out all the drawers and rearrange the contents by color, size, and type. Grandma never minded her rearranging so long as she made a new label for the metal frame on the outside of the drawer.
Mally must have made new labels for the drawers once a week at least, especially in the summer when she would spend hours happily digging through the cabinet. She loved pawing through all the beautiful materials. It felt like an endless treasure hunt.
On top of every cabinet were more baskets and bins of varying colors organizing needles, tools, Grandma’s massive thimble collection, and a huge arrangement of paper stabilizers and quilting books.
To the left was Grandma’s old dining room table, now covered with a special mat to cut fabrics. She’d lifted the table onto risers and Mally loved to play underneath, especially when Grandma was cutting long pieces of fabric that draped off the edges. She liked to imagine she was in a tent in a deep forest filled with monsters, but the fabric would keep her safe and hide her from view.
Mally did a double take as she recognized a familiar box peeking out from under a stack of folded quilt tops on the floor. It was her sewing box! She rushed over and scooped it up, loving the clank the handle made against the metal box.
She opened the lid and found it still filled with sewing supplies. She had a few scraps of fabric, pack of needles, five spools of thread, a tiny thimble, and a special pair of scissors that snapped into a silver chain. Grandma had given her these snips for Christmas last year. Mally immediately looped the scissor necklace over her head.
She made her way to the window seat and sat down with the sewing box on her lap. She pawed through the materials inside and frowned. She could have sworn she’d packed her sewing box full of scraps last spring. She’d never used them, but it was fun to pull out her favorite fabric colors and designs and fold them carefully to fit the space just right with the needles and thread.