The Big Picture

by Jenny B. Jones

  “Uh-huh,” Millie agrees. “Or tranquilized it and hauled it off.”

  Maxine’s head turns slowly until her eyes are level with mine.

  “Problem?” I droll.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  Not with my help. Nope, I am out of the Maxine-helping business.

  “I’m going back to the Valiant to finish getting it ready for the Chihuahua Days next week. Friday evening we’ll have community bingo. And the date auction will be onstage Saturday, of course. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Mom?”

  “Bingo? Whoopee.”

  “I take that to mean you won’t be helping Katie and me set up today?”

  “Nope.” She swigs from her root beer mug. “I have . . . work to do.”

  A pepperoni falls out of my mouth. “What kind of work?”

  “Secret old lady stuff.”

  The worst kind of stuff there is. “Just make sure you don’t break anything.” My voice drops. “Again.”

  ON THE WAY TO THE VALIANT, my eyes scan the town for signs of my mom or the truck I last saw her in. I’m so sick of this constant state of nervousness, like she’s going to jump out and scare me any moment. I just wish the police would find her so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.

  Or she’d do the right thing and turn herself in like she said.

  “Wow, the place looks great.” I haven’t been in the Valiant since I left last month, and if I needed any more assurance that I’m truly home, this theatre is it. The familiar smell hits me, and I inhale deep like it’s expensive perfume.

  “We got a local artist to design all the Chihuahua decor.” Millie leads me toward the stage. “And we’re still working on the backdrop for the date auction. I thought we’d just clean up today, get all the dust out and polish everything ’til it glows.”

  I walk backstage to get the supplies to shine the wooden portions of the theatre seats.

  I find Sam with his head stuck in between two shelves, mumbling beneath his breath. “Silly, frivolous, prideful — ”

  “Sam?” I tap him on the shoulder.

  He shrieks like a girl, rips his cap off his head, and clutches it to his chest. “Wh-what do you want? Oh, it’s you.”

  “Hello to you too.”

  He puts his cap back in place. “Sorry. Just a bit on edge today.” His face changes, and he jabs a pointy finger toward me. “What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?”

  “Um . . . I need the wood polish?”

  “Oh, sure.” He digs into the closet and produces it. “No! Blast it! That’s not what I mean, and you know it. What in tarnation did you think you were doing last night? I thought you were a smarter girl than to get up with Maxine in the dark of night and go riding through town.”

  “Sam — ”

  “Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes. It won’t work. I know you’re not the one responsible for breaking my window, but your presence there last night says you encouraged Maxine’s harebrained idea.”

  “I did not encourage it. I didn’t really know for sure what she was up to.”

  “Maxine’s ideas are crazy in the best of conditions, but any of them that require the cover of night are absolutely insane. You don’t have to be an honor student to get that.”

  “I did have to take a summer school class — ”

  “Don’t try to sass your way out of this. It’s dangerous for two girls to be out at night like that. And I assume James and Millie didn’t know?”

  I snort. “Um, no.”

  “I couldn’t sleep at all last night for worrying if you two had made it home all right.”

  I grab the supplies out of his hands. “You were worried about Maxine?”

  “No. A pack of wolves could’ve carried her off, and I wouldn’t have cared. But I did worry about you.”

  I focus on the twitch at the corner of his eye. “Sam Dayberry, you’re lying.”

  “You haven’t been off your crutches long. I was concerned that all that pedaling — ”

  “You weren’t just worried about me.” I step closer. “You still care about her. You were up all night because you thought about what she said.”

  “Thought about what she said?” He slaps his knee. “That’s a good one. Would that be the line where she said I needed to see a plastic surgeon or the line in which she mentioned I needed to crawl back to her?”

  Hope pumps through my veins. “You know perfectly well it’s not about the words. She did that — for you. She humbled herself and read you poetry. Homemade poetry. She doesn’t even like poetry, but she knows you do.”

  Sam’s face pinkens and he studies his old black shoes.

  “You have to give her another chance.”

  “She’s out of chances!”

  “Is she?”

  “She’s fired up because I’m seeing Mabel Doolittle. That’s all this amounts to. She doesn’t want me, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

  What girl hasn’t felt that way?

  “I don’t think that’s it this time. I really don’t. You should have seen her last night after we left your place. She was . . . quiet. Withdrawn. Sad.”

  Sam blinks a few times. “If she was sad at all, it’s because she knows I’ll send her the bill for my window replacement.”

  I grab a few more rags from the closet and shut it tight. “That’s not it, and you know it. She’s changed, you know. Maxine dumped you so you’d pull out the big guns and woo her back. It blew up in her face, and you called her bluff and let her go. And now that she knows what she’s lost, she wants you back.”

  “Katie, I’m too old for this reality-show dating stuff. I’m not the Bachelor.”

  “You’re a hot commodity in this town among the senior ladies. But only one of them wants you bad enough to ride across town in the dark and yell in verse, right?”

  He rests his chapped hand on my head. “Get to work, girl. Millie will be looking for you.”

  “Give it some thought, okay? She loves you. She just doesn’t know how to tell you. You’re like a bad cold she can’t shake, but she’s finally realizing she doesn’t want to shake it. She wants to be sick.” That didn’t come out quite right.

  Sam quirks a brow, and his tired eyes look away.

  But not before I see something glimmer there.

  Chapter thirty - nine

  JAMES WINKS AT ME FROM his seat when Sister Shonda Leon takes the stage for her solo. The Bible may say make a joyful noise, but my foster dad and I decided some time ago we’re not sure the Lord had heard the likes of Sister Shonda yet. She could pierce an eardrum with one note. And I laugh to myself because behind James’s kind, pastoral expression lurks a man praying for mercy and earplugs.

  I watch Maxine pretend not to stare at Sam Dayberry and the frumpy woman sharing his pew, and I try not to notice Charlie occasionally peering at Chelsea Blake. And in the middle of taking notes during James’s sermon, I feel an occasional twinge of homesickness for a little church in Middleton and twenty snotty-nosed kids. And one blond-haired boy who carried me up Stony Peak toward the sky.

  Charlie’s arm rests on the back of our pew, and as I sit next to him, I wonder what’s in his boy’s brain. Does he want Chelsea back? What exactly does an arm behind me mean?

  After the service the churchies pile into cars and trucks and head over to the Burger Barn for lunch. I have no idea where Charlie and I stand or even where I want us to stand, but I do know I want a chocolate shake.

  I order and sit at a table with Nash, Frances, and Charlie. Two seats are left open, and when Hannah comes through the door with Chelsea, Frances waves them over.

  “Katie,” Charlie whispers in my ear. “Are you okay with Chelsea hanging out with us?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I . . .” Charlie struggles with an answer. “I don’t know. I know she wasn’t your best friend before you left.”

  I rest my hand on his. “She’s your friend. I get that, and I’
m fine with it. And you’re right — she really does need people right now.”

  His fingers clasp mine. “Thanks. It’s important.”

  “I know.” And I pull my hand away when the girls sit down.

  The Burger Barn doesn’t serve it up speedy like McDonald’s, so while we wait for our orders to be called, I head for the ladies’ room.

  When I come out of the stall to wash my hands, Chelsea is there, applying lip gloss in front of the mirror.

  “Hey.” She wears less makeup than she used to, but the girl is still disgustingly beautiful. And I want to hate her for it.

  “Hi.” She laughs nervously. “I don’t know why I do this — put on lipstick before I eat. It’s stupid, I guess.”

  Yeah, it is. “You never know who might walk into the Burger Barn though. It’s best to be totally prepared. It’s our job as girls to look as fetching as possible at all times.” Am I rambling? I think I’m rambling.

  “Katie — ” She fixes a bra strap that peeps out of her sleeveless top. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you . . . you know, before. I judged you on everything but what actually counts.”

  I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and force my hanging mouth to close.

  “I’ve learned a lot in the last few weeks — more than I cared to. But I know I was a total snot to you because of where you came from and your mom. And now that the shoe is on the other foot — ”

  Would that be a Manolo Blahnik or a Jimmy Choo?

  “ — I understand how you felt. I can’t change what my father did any more than you can change your mom’s mistakes. But I know I don’t want to be like him — probably any more than you want to be like your mother.” Her hollow laugh echoes in the small bathroom. “Most days I don’t even want to be like me.”

  “Chelsea, you’re a good person.” Don’t smite me, God. This is a well-intended lie. And one day it will be true. I hope. “You have to quit walking around like you’re a nobody. I realize the people you’re hanging out with lately aren’t up on all things Vogue and In Style, but they’re sure not going to throw you overboard and laugh in your face when things get rough.”

  Her glossy lips form a smile. “You’re right. It’s just hard. I snubbed you guys for so long, and now I’ve basically come crawling back, hoping you’ll be my friends.”

  “And have you been disappointed so far? Have these guys let you down?”

  “No.” She washes her hands and reaches for a towel. “And I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I tried to steal Charlie away from you — before you left.”

  Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed.

  “When he and I broke up, I realized he was my only true friend. After my dad’s scandal, my other so-called friends scattered. And I realized — I was just like them. But not anymore. I want you to know Charlie and I are just friends. But Katie, I need his friendship right now. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need it.”

  She says that like she thinks Charlie and I are a couple. “It’s not about deserving it.” I feel like I’m talking to a reformed member of the Mean Girls. “That’s what friends do.” They’re more than shopping buddies. “Charlie’s a pretty amazing guy, huh?”

  “I didn’t realize how much that was true until the last month. He’s seen me at my ugliest and still he’s right there.”

  “Yeah — that’s Tate.” What? No! “Er, I mean Charlie.”

  “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

  I nearly drop my bowl of ice cream as Maxine enters the living room, where I sit with my foster parents watching a movie. Her hair looks like a pack of monkeys pounced on it. There’s a run in her hose I could stick my hand through, and she’s rubbing her knuckles.

  “I broke up with the mayor tonight.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask, as Maxine hobbles to a chair, noticeably shy of one shoe.

  “Oh, I’m fine. The old feller got a little handsy tonight in between dessert and my good-bye speech, and — ”

  James mutes the TV, eyeing Maxine’s condition. “He did all that? I’m going over there to talk to him.”

  “Oh, sit down, toots. Just had to walk home. Took a few shortcuts, got hung up in a barbed wire fence or two. Chased by some dogs. No biggie. The fence did most of this, but I took care of our mayor.”

  Millie scoots to the edge of her chair. “What did you do?”

  Maxine flexes her fingers. “I’m not a black belt for nothing.”

  Millie frowns. “Actually you’re not a black belt.”

  “I’m a kick-some-tail belt. I totally went ninja on that dude.”

  “I cannot believe that creep,” Millie seethes. “James, you should pay him a visit tomorrow.”

  “Well . . .” Maxine stretches wide and drags out a long yawn. “It’s so late. I think I’m going up to bed. Shouldn’t you be getting to bed too, Katie? A growing girl needs her sleep.”

  I glance at the clock. “It’s seven-thirty.”

  “Oh.” Her face falls. “Is that all? Okay, I guess I’ll go up and take a nice, hot bath and scrub the paw prints off. When you come to a commercial, you can come up and keep me company.”

  “It’s a DVD.”

  Maxine purses her lips. “When it gets to a boring part, meet me upstairs. I have a friend who has a problem, and I wanted to tell you about it.” Her eyes laser into mine.

  “You can tell me about your friend tomorrow.”

  “My friend wants to solve her problem tonight.”

  “If this is about the fact Linley’s Department Store doesn’t carry Betty Lou’s brand of Velcro shoes — ”

  “Meet me upstairs in ten minutes!” Maxine blasts through clenched teeth, then smiles like a homecoming queen for James and Millie. “Ten minutes,” she hisses in my ear. “Or else I feed all your Victoria’s Secret underwear to Rocky.” And she turns on her one heel and limps out of the room.

  Eight minutes later, I race up to my room. A cleaned-up Maxine sits on my bed, petting Rocky. “Good timing. Sit.”

  I slam the door behind me. “This had better be good. I’m missing a movie.”

  “So?”

  “With Matthew McConaughey.”

  Maxine’s eyes twinkle in appreciation. “Nice.” She waves a hand. “Anyway, we have work to do. Though my poetry reading stunk it up, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Would that be the sleeve you lost on the barbed wire fence?”

  “Rocky, how many pairs of panties can you fit in your mouth at once?”

  “Okay. Just tell me what you’re going to do.”

  Maxine smiles sweetly. It gives me chills. “What we’re going to do, sweet pea. Now listen close. In that bag over there is a giant canvas sign I made.”

  I pick up the bag and unfurl the material, laying it out on the floor. “Maxine loves Sam Dewberry?”

  “It says Dayberry. The paint just ran a bit. Now while there’s still a little light out, we need to go hang this.”

  I’m afraid to ask. “Where?”

  “On the water tower, of course.”

  “I’m not climbing that thing! It’s a million years old. It’s bound to tip over or cave in or something.”

  “It withstood the tornado last spring. I think it can take two girls standing on it.” Maxine refolds the banner. “Now all I need you to do is climb up the water tower with me and help me hang it. Then we’ll climb right back down. It’s easy. This can’t go wrong, Katie. There are no windows to break. It’s foolproof.”

  “It’s desperate though.”

  “And these are desperate times!” she cries. “I’m running out of options here. Helen Shelby says she saw Sam treating Mabel to a double dip at the Burger Barn this afternoon.” She stamps her foot. “A double dip! That is serious.”

  “Vanilla or chocolate?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out the double dip thing.”

  “I will run this bag outside and prepare the bike. Meet me in the living room in two
minutes. Go!”

  Rolling my eyes all the way, I slink back to my seat in the living room and tune into the movie.

  “Katie, dear!” Maxine calls from the doorway.

  “Yes?” I feign innocence.

  “It’s such a nice summer night. How about a bike ride before it gets dark?”

  “I’m watching a movie.”

  Maxine pops her gum and steps into the room. “I said how about a bike ride?”

  James and Millie eye us warily.

  “I’d love a bike ride.” My voice is as flat as a deflated balloon. “It would be oh-so refreshing and enjoyable. Thank you, Foster Granny.”

  With some lame excuse about needing exercise and finishing the movie another time, I follow Maxine outside to the driveway, where once again Ginger Rogers awaits.

  “You call me Foster Granny again, and you’re going to wake up one morning with all your bras in the freezer.”

  “You do and I’ll string your girdle collection up the city flagpole.”

  Maxine reaches around her seat on the bike and swats my knee. “And away we go!”

  It’s a short ride to the In Between water tower, and thankfully all the good citizens of the town are tucked away on this Sunday evening. Because I do not need witnesses for what is about to happen.

  “You grab the bag.” Maxine puts the kickstand in place, and we begin our ascent up the steel rungs. For every step I climb, I think of another reason why I shouldn’t be doing this. By the time we get to the top, I’m up to one hundred and twelve, and my bad ankle throbs like a smashed finger. Millie would kill me if she found out about this.

  Ick. It’s nasty up here. This thing looks even worse up close than it does from the road, and I didn’t think that was possible. “It’s like a bird haven.” I point to a few nests and the splattered floor of dried bird poop.

  “Aw, look. Baby birds.” Maxine coos over a cheeping nest.

  “Yeah, precious. Let’s get this over with before we get arrested.”

  “For what?” she scoffs. “Beautifying a landmark?” She walks across the lookout area and paint flakes off with her every step. “Okay, help me out.” Maxine unfolds the banner and the slight breeze makes it dance.