“We’ll keep a close eye on her,” Mom said. She looked to Dad for support.
“I better go check on her,” Dad said and strode into the kitchen. It was quiet as they all waited, eating and listening.
Dad finally returned with Granna Mae beside him. “It was a fine dinner,” he was saying to her.
“Did the children save you enough pie?”
“Yes, yes they did. You go on up to bed now. I’ll have the children do the dishes for you.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Granna Mae said, heading for the hallway that led to the stairs.
“Not at all. You get some sleep now.”
Granna Mae shuffled off down the hallway, and Dad returned to the table. He seemed upset.
“Is she okay?” Dillon asked.
Dad nodded and silently stuck his fork into his now cold mashed potatoes. “She was doing so well the past few days. I didn’t expect her to switch on us so quickly.”
“What was she doing?” Gavin asked.
“She thought we were her children, and she was serving dinner like she always did. She’s gone to bed now. She’ll be fine.”
Sierra watched her mom give Dad that look that said, “How can you be sure she’ll be fine?”
The situation with Granna Mae tore at Sierra that night as she tried to sleep. Her body still had nights and days mixed up, and she was fighting off feelings of uncertainty about starting school the next morning. All this emotional energy focused on Granna Mae. Sixty-eight wasn’t old for a grandmother. Her body was strong and healthy. It seemed cruel and unfair that her mind would fail her when her body had so many more healthy years left.
Sierra’s Grandpa Ted had died when Sierra was little. She only had a vague memory of the funeral and wasn’t sure what had caused his death. He had been a builder for thirty-some years, as his father had been for many years before him. Sierra’s great-grandfather built this house in 1915, which was partly why Granna Mae couldn’t bring herself to sell it. Sierra knew her father was too compassionate to ever send his mother to a rest home. So here they were, adjusting to a new life in a new city with a grandmother who was slowly going crazy.
Tawni entered the bedroom quietly while Sierra was deep in her disturbing thoughts. A distinct sweet fragrance entered with her. “You don’t have to tiptoe, Tawni. I’m still awake.”
“Do you mind if I turn on the light?” As she asked the question she turned it on.
Sierra pulled up the blanket to cover her eyes. “How was work?”
“Fine.”
“Granna Mae flipped out a little at dinner. She thought we were all her children.”
“You should have seen her the day we moved in,” Tawni said. “She acted as if we were all workers who had come to repair her house. I wish they could do something for her.”
“I know. Doesn’t it kind of scare you to think about getting old and losing your mind like that?” Sierra asked.
“I don’t know.” Tawni slipped off her shoes and sat on the edge of her bed. “It’s probably hereditary. You have her genes; I don’t. At least you know. Who knows what hereditary diseases I’m carrying around.”
Sierra had heard Tawni talk like this before. It was sort of a martyr thing. At the same time, what she said was true. She didn’t know the medical history of her birth family. Sierra would probably feel the same way if she were in Tawni’s position.
“But I intend to find out,” Tawni said, scooping up her shoes and walking over to the closet. Tawni’s side of the closet was perfect. Everything had a proper place, and that’s how she kept it. All the time.
Sierra had a much more liberal system for keeping track of her things. If it was in the way, move it. If you can’t find it, wear something else.
Tawni’s comment sank in. Sierra raised herself on one elbow and squinted at the light. “What do you mean, ‘find out’?”
“I’m going to find my birth mother,” Tawni said, without turning around. “As soon as I save enough money.”
“Why do you want to do that?”
Tawni spun around, looking surprised and almost hurt that Sierra would even have to ask.
“Never mind,” Tawni said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
nine
MONDAY MORNING MOM DROVE Sierra ten miles across town to Royal Christian Academy. It was raining, as usual, and Sierra shivered in the front seat of their old VW Rabbit, waiting for the heater to kick in. She looked at her blue knit shirt, her long patchwork skirt, and her cowboy boots. She touched her earrings again, trying to remember which ones she had put on.
For one of the first times in her life she felt self-conscious about her clothes. Being an individual in Pineville had been cool. Her high school was small, and she was popular, especially because all the teachers had liked her two brothers and sister who had gone before her.
Now she was starting her first day at a private Christian school, and she imagined all 279 of the other students were a bunch of clones, wearing navy blue outfits with white socks.
“Mom,” Sierra said, as they sped down the freeway, “I’m beginning to think this Christian school idea isn’t the way for me to go. I’ve always been in public school except when you home-schooled me. I don’t think I’ll like it. It’s just not me.”
Sierra’s mom was generally a patient counselor. Sierra felt she could come to her anytime and talk to her about anything. This morning was different. Her mom seemed on edge.
“We’ve been through this,” she said sharply. “When we made the decision to move here, we talked with you about it, and you decided you would like to go to the Christian high school since you never had that opportunity in Pineville.”
“I know,” Sierra said. “But that was before I went to Europe. I don’t think I’m going to have anything in common with any of the people at this school. I’m just not like them.”
“And how do you know all this without having even seen the school or met a single student, hmmm?” Mom turned the windshield wipers on full speed. “It’s not like you, Sierra, to be afraid of the unknown like this. What happened to your adventuresome spirit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Give it a try.” Mom pulled off the freeway and drove four blocks to the high school. “One week is all I ask. Then we’ll have this conversation again. Okay?” She stopped the car in front of the two main doors.
Sierra hesitated. It looked like a normal school. She spotted a few students entering the building who had on normal-looking clothes, nothing uniform-like or old-fashioned.
“One week,” Sierra said.
“Do you want me to come into the office with you?” Mom asked.
“No, I’m fine.” Sierra pulled her backpack over her shoulder and opened the door.
“I’ll pick you up at 3:15,” Mom said, leaning across the seat. “Have a good day, honey!”
Sierra forced a smile.
The office was easy to find, and as soon as she walked in, a frizzy-haired woman with glasses said, “You must be Sierra Jensen. Welcome to Royal!” Sierra didn’t smile back.
“Here’s your class schedule and some other papers for you to look at, including our handbook.”
I knew it! Here come all the rules.
The secretary began to run through a list of information such as where her locker was, what time they broke for lunch, how she could sign up for the girls’ basketball team (if she were interested), and how chapel was on Fridays. Most of the information bounced off of Sierra.
“Randy should be here any minute,” the lady said. “I asked him to show you around.” She glanced at the large, round clock on the wall. “Well, where is he? You only have ten minutes before the bell rings.”
“I’m sure I can find everything on my own. Thanks.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is a big school, and we don’t want you getting lost on your first day.”
Sierra felt like telling the woman that last week she had managed to get herself from the Lake District
of England all the way to Heathrow Airport and then to Portland. Certainly she could find locker number 117 without a Seeing Eye dog.
Just then a tall guy with longish hair walked into the office. Sierra was surprised. She would have expected a rule about hair length in the handbook.
“Hey, new girl!” Randy said.
“Her name is Sierra,” the secretary said. “Now show her around quickly before classes start.”
Randy stuck out his arm as if he were supposed to escort her down the aisle at a wedding. Sierra motioned that both her hands were full of papers.
“Whatever,” Randy said and walked out into the hallway, which was now beginning to thicken with students. “Cool boots,” he said.
“I like your jacket,” Sierra said.
“My dad bought it in Nepal. Now, your locker is right here. Did they give you the combination?”
Sierra was delighted that at least one person in this school was related to someone who had been outside the U.S. She found the paper with the combination on it and spun the numbers around. It opened right away, and a dozen purple and gold balloons tumbled out.
“That’s our traditional welcome,” Randy said. “Now you’re official or whatever.”
Sierra didn’t know what to think. People were walking past them, looking but not stopping. She still had her arms full, and yet she had to try to collect all the balloons and figure out what to do with them. Randy just stood there watching. Still, it was a nice surprise, something she would have never experienced at Pineville High.
“We can pop ‘em.” Randy pinched the latex on one balloon and bit into it so that the air came hissing out. He popped a few more while Sierra tried to cram the rest back into her locker. She didn’t have any books so nothing else needed to fit in her locker yet.
Once she shut the locker door, Randy said, “Come on. I’ll show you where the classrooms are. What do you have first period?”
Sierra followed him down the hall and scanned the papers in her hand. “If this is it, then I have English first.”
“Cool,” Randy said. “So do I. It’s right here.” He pointed to a door on the left but kept walking. “Down the hall is the gym. For P.E. you go into the door on the right at the very end.” He kept walking. “Now that hall,” he said, motioning to the left, “is the low-life ward. It leads to the junior high wing. You don’t ever want to get lost and wander off down there!”
A bell rang above their heads. Randy turned around and started to walk back the way they had come. “I’ll look for you at lunch,” he said. “Did I show you where the cafeteria is?”
“No. But don’t worry. I’m sure I can find it.”
They were back at the door to their English class. Randy stopped by the door and let Sierra enter first. He followed her in and said in a loud voice, “This is Sierra, everybody.” Then to her, in a lower voice he said, “You can sit wherever you want.”
Sierra slid into the closest desk, aware that everyone was looking at her. Somehow all the friendly-welcome stuff bugged her. She was sure the administration meant well, sending Randy to show her around and filling her locker with balloons, but it made her feel uncomfortable. She felt too welcomed. She had expected a school of stuck-up students all ignoring her. That would have made it easier for her to slip in and out unnoticed. It would have also made it easier for her to leave after a week and never be missed.
“Look!” said a dark-haired girl. “We match.”
Sierra had not expected that. Her clothes never matched anyone else’s. Ever.
“Did you get your skirt at A Wrinkle in Time?” the girl asked. She had dark, expressive eyes and olive-toned skin. “That’s my favorite vintage store in Hawthorne.”
“I’ve never been there,” Sierra said. And then, because it came out so abruptly, she added, “My skirt came from a thrift store in Sacramento.”
“Is that where you’re from?” the girl asked.
“No.” Sierra didn’t offer any further explanation because the teacher was starting the class and everyone was seated except the girl in the matching patchwork dress.
The teacher briefly welcomed Sierra, who felt relieved a big deal wasn’t being made over her. The class time was mostly lecture and not discussion, which was good. She could melt into the background a little more easily.
Melting in turned out to be Sierra’s goal for the day. She remained quiet and reserved in each class. At lunch she sat with Randy and some of his friends because he made such a fuss about it when she walked into the cafeteria. But when she answered their initial questions with only a simple “yes” or “no,” they all turned their attention to other topics and closed her out. And that’s what she wanted.
“Lovey?” Granna Mae called from the kitchen when Sierra and her mom walked in after school. “I’m all ready to go. Will you drive me to Eaton’s?”
Sierra looked to her mom for an explanation. Mom only shrugged her shoulders. Sierra thought her grandmother was dealing in the present since she had used the term “Lovey.” But what was this plan of hers to go to Eaton’s Drug Store?
“Do you need to pick up a prescription, Granna Mae?” Sierra asked.
“No.” She buttoned the big black buttons on her red coat and pulled the black fur collar up around her neck. Then, adjusting a black mohair tam on her head, she moved toward the door. Granna Mae looked cute, like a little girl on her way to a Christmas party.
“I guess we’ll be back in a little while.” Sierra dropped her backpack by the front hall coatrack and scooped up the keys to the Rabbit from off the entry table. With Granna Mae’s arm looped through hers, they took the wet steps down the front porch slowly.
Sierra drove the six blocks to the pharmacy carefully. The roads were slick, plus this was the first time she had driven a car in more than a month. It felt funny to be behind the wheel, especially in an area she had never driven before.
During her summer visits to Granna Mae’s, she and her brothers and sister had walked to Eaton’s many times on the warm afternoons. Inside an original fountain and grill with a long Formica counter and red vinyl stools waited for them. Sierra had consumed many ice cream cones and root beer floats at that counter. It was one of the few businesses in the area that had remained operative since the day it opened more than fifty years ago. Some of the other older businesses along the same street had been torn down or renovated and turned into gift shops or espresso stands.
Granna Mae hummed contentedly as they pulled into the small parking lot and maneuvered through the puddles to the back door. A bell rang as they entered, and Sierra was flooded with memories of the place.
“What do you need today, Granna Mae?” asked Sierra, automatically heading for the pharmaceutical counter.
Granna Mae headed in the other direction, toward the fountain. Sierra followed her and sat down on a stool next to her grandmother, still a little confused as to what was going on.
“Mae, how are you doing today?” the woman behind the counter in the white apron asked. Sierra recognized her. She had been working there ever since Sierra had first come in.
“Very well. Did you notice Howard’s daughter here with me, Angie?” Granna Mae asked, removing her coat and hat and draping them over the vacant stool next to her.
“Why, is that little Sierra? My, how you’ve grown, honey! I heard you had a rather exciting trip to the Emerald Isle. Did you find it to your liking?”
“Yes, thank you. It was a great trip. I’d love to go back again one day.”
“I imagine you will,” the sweet woman said. “Mae always said you had the spark for the lark. Now, what can I get you ladies today?”
“We need the usual first-day-of-school treat with two glasses. And I’d like a cup of coffee too. Anything else for you, Lovey?”
Since Sierra wasn’t exactly sure what the “usual” was, she ordered a glass of water.
Granna Mae’s soft face turned up in a smile as she transferred her attention from Angie to Sierra. “Did your fath
er ever tell you how I used to do this with all the children? On the first day of school we walked over here to Eaton’s and ordered chocolate malts. It used to be the little ones couldn’t wait for their first day of school just so they could have their chance to come. I haven’t done this since Emma was in grade school.”
Angie set the glass of water and cup of coffee in front of them. Granna Mae went to work, preparing her coffee. First, just the right amount of cream was poured in from the silver-colored creamer Angie slid across the counter to them. Then precisely half of a packet of sugar, torn open only at the corner, was added.
Sierra enjoyed Granna Mae’s hands. They were dancing hands. Each movement of her fingers seemed liquid and smoothly connected to the next movement. She lifted her spoon as if it were a feather and created a whirlpool within the white ceramic mug. Apparently Eaton’s coffee mugs were an acceptable substitute for a china cup.
“One year,” Granna Mae said, picking up her thought, “we had seven Jensen children and myself lined up on the first day of school. We nearly took up the whole counter!”
Sierra knew that Granna Mae had always been careful with her money. She was surprised that her grandma would spend money on seven chocolate malts simply to celebrate the first day of school.
“Now tell me about your first day, Lovey.”
Sierra shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
“That’s not an answer. Tell me about everything. I want to hear it all.”
“Well, it’s different from Pineville in a lot of ways, especially when my English teacher started the class with a Bible verse and prayer. That was a nice change from public school.”
“Indeed it was! And that’s how things should be in school.”
Angie placed two fluted glasses in front of them, filled with the rich chocolate malt. She also gave them the metal canister she had used to blend the ice cream.
Granna Mae chuckled. “And to think I used to be able to finish off one of these by myself!”
Sierra stuck her straw into the glass and savored the treat. “Thanks, Granna Mae. This is really nice of you. I appreciate it.”
Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 1 Page 7