Second Bestie (Redbend High Book 1)

by Anna Marie Kittrell

  Lenni nudged her. “What’d you get?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Pam, can we take Molly home first, today?” Bianca asked, hurting my feelings a little. I gazed out the window.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said, wiggling from the backseat when we arrived in front of my house. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  Bianca exited from the other side and passed me on the walkway. She clicked up the steps, stopping in front of porch witch. “I bought this for you. Thought you might like it. Looks like something you’d pick out for yourself.” She reached into the bag, took out a witch hat and worked it onto porch witch’s head. She tied the chinstrap then stood back, holding the statue’s shoulders. “You look bewitching.” She clipped down the steps. “See you tomorrow, Molly.”

  Mom opened the door and peered through the screen. “I thought I heard you out here. Oh, my goodness! You got her a new hat.” Mom darted outside. “It looks great.” She walked around the statue, admiring it. “I like it even better than the old one.”

  “I didn’t buy it, Bianca did. I think she’s taken a liking to porch witch.”

  “Porch witch? That’s funny.” She walked to the door, chuckling. “Come help me with dinner. It’s been a long time since we’ve cooked together.”

  “Is there cabbage involved?” I asked cautiously.

  “We’re having nachos. I’ll more than likely be up half the night filled with heartburn and regret.” She patted her baby bump.

  Mom drained the sausage, spooned it into the melting cheese, and then added a little milk.

  “Smells good,” I said.

  She held a dishrag under the faucet and then wiped grease splatters from the stovetop while I pulled glasses from the cupboard.

  “Where’s my boot-shaped glass?” I asked, rummaging through the cabinet.

  “Calm down. It’s in that one.” Mom pointed to the cupboard where she kept candles that lost their scent and the kitchen gadgets we never used.

  “Why’d you move it?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes, reaching for my glass on the second shelf.

  “I thought maybe you were getting too old for it. I didn’t want to risk embarrassing you around your friends.”

  “You think I’ve outgrown it since last week? Mom, I’ve loved this glass since I was six. What friends would make fun of me? Lenni and Bianca?” I considered this for a moment. “Well, Bianca might, but definitely not Lenni.” I filled the boot with ice.

  “Are you implying Bianca is your friend?”

  “Something wrong with that?”

  “Not at all. I just haven’t heard you refer to her as a friend. I think it’s great. You can never have too many.”

  “Things are different between us now. Better.”

  “Cool,” Mom said. “Now hand me the chips.”

  I handed her the bag just as Dad walked into the kitchen. He leaned in and gave Mom a kiss. “How’s my family?” He snatched a tortilla chip and dipped it into the pot.

  “Your family is starving while you eat in front of them,” I said.

  We dished up and walked into the dining room.

  “Just think, soon there’ll be a highchair sitting there.” I pointed between Mom and Dad. They gazed through the empty space at each other.

  “And Boo will be one happy dog. Babies are always dropping food on the floor,” Mom said.

  Boo recognized his name and wagged his tail.

  “So, how’s the bowling?” I asked.

  Dad nodded as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Not too bad.”

  “Have you given up golf?”

  “No. Just taking a break to try some new challenges.”

  “Speaking of new challenges, Bianca’s dad, Seth, came to church Sunday. And not only that, he played the piano. It was incredible. No one had played it since he left the church years ago. When his song picked up tempo, dust rose from the keys like smoke!” I got excited telling the story. The way everything fell together—Mr. Cecil convincing Seth to come back to church, Seth giving up alcohol, the church still needing a pianist—

  it really was a miracle. I got goose bumps every time I thought about it.

  “They let Seth Ravenwood into the church? That is incredible.”

  “You know him?”

  “He stops in the bowling alley for a beer once in a while. Always looks down on his luck. Johnny, the owner, said Seth used to work for him. Said he’d maintained the equipment and was a good worker. Smart as a tack, Johnny said. But after he lost his wife, he developed an alcohol problem and had to be let go.”

  “Church is for everyone who wants to come, regardless of their past.” It felt as if Mrs. Piper spoke through me. “You should’ve heard him play, Dad. Like he had a gift from God. And he quit drinking. You won’t see him back in the bowling alley. At least, not to buy beer. Bianca told Lenni he poured all his liquor down the drain. He’s trying to find a job, so they can get back on their feet. But it’s hard without a car.”

  “I had no idea Bianca’s mother had passed away,” Mom said solemnly.

  “She’s not dead, Mom.”

  They stared at me, awaiting an explanation.

  “Seth and Jocelyn’s youngest child, Sam, passed away when he was two years old. Jocelyn is still living. She’s just…away.”

  “What a terrible tragedy, losing a child,” Mom said. “Did the strain lead to divorce?”

  “No, Mom, they’re not separated.”

  “You mean she ran off? Oh, poor Seth must be devastated. Not to mention his daughter. They’ve already lost that precious little boy—”

  “That’s not it!” I exclaimed, flinging my hands. “Bianca’s little brother, Sam, died after eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she made for him. He was allergic to peanuts. Her mom tried to kill herself by taking pills afterwards, but it didn’t work. Instead, she got brain damage. She’s lived in Sugar Creek Manor, over in Hopeford, ever since. Bianca’s Dad tried to dull the pain with alcohol, which caused him to lose his job. Bianca tried to cope by pretending to be a witch.” I’d summed up Bianca’s entire life in one paragraph. I felt slimy.

  “I’m really not comfortable talking about Bianca’s past with you guys,” I said, near tears. “I feel like I’m betraying her family, somehow.”

  “Honey, I’m sorry.” Mom exchanged glances with Dad. “We had no idea.”

  “You said Seth’s stopped drinking?” Dad asked.

  “Yes,” I answered, annoyed. I wanted the conversation to end.

  “He doesn’t have a car?”

  “No. He doesn’t have a car,” I said stiffly, pressing my napkin to the corner of my eye. “He borrows his brother’s or takes a cab when he goes somewhere beyond walking distance.”

  “I’ll talk to Johnny about Seth, let him know he’s cleaned up his act. He could use a good maintenance man. Maybe he’ll hire him back.” He met my gaze. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” I jumped up from my chair and hugged his neck.

  “It’s not set in stone, Molly. I have to ask Johnny.”

  “I know. I’m thanking you for asking.”

  “The bowling alley isn’t too far from Old Town. The walk shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

  “Do you think we could give Seth the jeep?” I asked. “He could pay us back when he gets a steady paycheck.”

  “The jeep is for you, Molly. You’re getting your license next year.”

  “Mom told me, but now we’re buying an extra car. And if the jeep’s going to sit for a year with no one driving it, I think it would be better if we helped somebody.” I gazed at the cheese hardening in my dish.

  Dad was silent for a long moment. “I think we can work something out,” he finally answered, looking at Mom. She nodded.

  My heart fluttered. “He can always get it back to us later, when he’s on his feet.”

  “Or, perhaps, we’ll find something you like better by then,” Mom said.

  Dad scooted his chair ba
ck and stood. “Great dinner, hon.” He kissed Mom on top of her head, collected the dishes and walked into the kitchen.

  “Can I have the key to the jeep?” he asked when he returned.

  “Let me get my purse.”

  “Dad, where are you going?”

  “To see a man about hiring another man. Then I’m going to see another man about a jeep.”

  Mom held out the key. He gazed at the ruby slipper and grimaced. “Not very masculine.”

  “The key chain’s not part of the deal. Bring that back home.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of giving it away.”

  * * *

  I’d forgotten how roomy the nerd-mobile was, compared to the jeep. Lenni stepped onto the van’s running board and swung inside. “Wow, someone could live in here.”

  “Looks like someone already does,” I said, eying the antique clutter in the back.

  “Your dad’s been after me to get this stuff out of here, but I don’t know where to put it. The closets are overflowing since I moved everything to set up the nursery.”

  “Don’t forget to pick up Bianca,” I reminded her.

  Mom stopped at the curb in front of Bianca’s house. She jumped from the porch and strode quickly to the van. Lenni slid the door open.

  “Hey, you,” Lenni said.

  “Hey,” Bianca replied.

  “Hi, Bianca,” Mom chirped.

  “Hello, Mrs. Sanders.”

  “Call me Madeline.”

  I hoped Mom wouldn’t dote on Bianca because she felt sorry for her. Bianca wouldn’t want her pity.

  “Um, I just want to thank you guys for what you’re doing for my dad,” Bianca said, clasping her seatbelt. “I haven’t seen him this hopeful in a very long time.”

  “Our pleasure, dear. If there’s anything else we can do…” Mom’s voice bordered on sympathetic.

  “So, Lenni, tonight’s the big play,” I said loudly, changing the subject. “Are you excited?”

  “I’m too nervous to be excited. It’s worse now that Ms. Velma is playing the lead. I’m afraid I’ll choke, because she is such a good actor. Not that you weren’t, Bianca, I just mean I was more comfortable around you on stage.”

  “I know what you mean, goof. Stop worrying about hurting people’s feelings so much. You’re going to be fantastic. I’m sorry I backed out on you, but I really want to support my Dad, help him get well, you know?”

  “What did he say when you told him you were skipping the play for church?” Lenni asked.

  Bianca ran her hands over her frayed black skirt. “I never said when the play was. He’s not normally in any condition to go out.”

  “Well, all that’s about to change,” Mom blurted.

  I glared at her.

  “Sorry,” she mouthed.

  “I’m definitely ready for a change,” Bianca said.

  * * *

  I stood in the foyer of Cornerstone and gazed through the front window, chatting with Mrs. Piper. I didn’t want to embarrass Bianca and her father by standing out front, gawking when they arrived. But I wanted to see them pull up in the jeep. I could only imagine how cute the two of them would look, especially with the top down.

  “Here they come!” I exclaimed.

  Mrs. Piper stopped mid-sentence to follow my gaze. “Seth and Bianca. How wonderful. Molly, be sure to introduce Bianca to everyone in the youth group so she’ll feel welcome.”

  “I already planned on it.”

  “What an adorable jeep. Doesn’t your mother drive one similar?”

  “She used to.” I didn’t go into detail. It was Seth’s now, and that’s all that mattered.

  “They look like they’re having a blast riding with the top down.”

  She was right. Seth Ravenwood looked ten years younger, the worry lines buffed from his face. Bianca tossed her head and laughed at something he said, the sun catching her hair, lighting it on fire. He opened his door then walked around to open hers, causing her cheeks to turn pink—a blush she’d have been incapable of less than two weeks ago. He helped her from the running board, her skirt swaying around her ankles.

  They walked toward the building and her smile faded. Her face hardened with every step. She was putting on her mask.

  Mrs. Piper reached into the leather tote looped over her elbow. “Welcome back, Seth,” she said as he entered the foyer, handing him a shiny black Bible with his name embossed on the cover. He ran his finger across the silver letters. “Welcome, Bianca.” She placed a Bible with a crimson cover and engraved gold letters into Bianca’s hesitant hand. “We are so happy you’re home.”

  Seth extended his hand to Mrs. Piper, who embraced him instead. He pulled away with tears in his eyes.

  “Thanks,” Bianca said, examining her name.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Bianca threw her arms around Mrs. Piper’s shoulders. Mrs. Piper stroked her hair. After a moment, Bianca drew away, blotting her face on the sleeve of her peasant blouse.

  “Come on,” I said. “I’ll introduce you to the group.”

  “Joy.” She dropped her arm, her features toughening.

  “They’re not so bad. You already know some of the kids from school, and several live in your neighborhood.”

  “Gee, that makes me feel so much better.”

  The aroma of buttered popcorn met us as we walked into the youth center. “Here we are.” I pulled the heavy door.

  “Yay! Molly.” Amy rushed over, handing each of us a fresh bag of popcorn. “Hi, Bianca,” she said cheerfully. Bianca offered a half wave. “I’ll be right back with sodas.” Amy skipped through plastic chairs to the big, blue ice chest in the corner. Sandy stood nearby, operating the popcorn machine.

  I took a deep breath, and then cupped my hands around my mouth. “Excuse me!”

  Bianca rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother.” She scanned the florescent-orange Kneeling Zone sign. “I’m only here to support my dad.”

  “Hey, guys!” I tried again, receiving a huff from Bianca.

  I spied Greg onstage, a guitar raised to his ear. He plucked a string, turned a peg, and then plucked again. He caught my gaze, handed the guitar to Saul, and motioned me over.

  “That’s Greg, the youth pastor.”

  Amy popped up holding two sodas. “Thanks, Amy,” I said, accepting both cans.

  “Hey, Molly. How’s it going?” Greg asked as we approached the stage.

  “Great. How are you?”

  “Blessed.”

  Bianca sighed, dropping her head, hair covering her face.

  “Don’t I know you?” Greg asked, ignoring her exasperation.

  “I used to come to church here when I was a kid,” she said, peering through her hair.

  “Bianca?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

  “In the flesh.”

  “Wow, it’s been a long time. I was about your age last time I saw you,” he said. “That was your dad on the piano last Sunday. I’m putting it together now. Man, he is one talented musician.”

  “The man’s a genius, what can I say?” she said flatly.

  “Come up. I want to introduce you.” He offered his hand to her.

  “I’m cool down here.”

  I set our snacks on a plastic chair.

  “Well, I’ll come to you, then.” He hopped down from the stage, landing between Bianca and me, microphone in hand. “Listen up!” he boomed. “This is Bianca Ravenwood, and I want you to welcome her to Cornerstone Youth!”

  Applause rang as Bianca’s second blush of the evening crept over her porcelain cheeks. Greg thrust the orange-tipped microphone in front of her. “Would you like to testify?”

  “No!” She glared at Greg and pushed away the microphone as he snickered, eyes sparkling.

  Sandy crossed the room and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Bianca. I’m Sandy. I absolutely love your hair.”

  “Thanks,” Bianca said, shaking Sandy’s hand.

  “Let’s get this Jesus party started!” Gr
eg yelled into the mic, cuing the musicians. Isaac slid behind the drums, and Saul strapped his guitar over his shoulder, while Kim took the microphone from the stand. She gazed around the room, then closed her eyes and sang, low and sweet, without music.

  People lifted their voices, some talking aloud to God, thanking him, some singing. Instruments joined in and the music intensified, elevating the energy in the room. The atmosphere was exhilarating, like Dizzy’s show—without the drama. Kim swung her shiny braid and raised a hand into the air while she sang. I stole a glance at Bianca as she grasped her Bible to her chest, pointed-boot tapping in rhythm on the floor.

  “Amen!” Greg shouted, jogging to the stage when the song ended. “Thank you, Jesus!” he exclaimed as everyone clapped. I clapped for Jesus this time.

  “Okay, folks, let’s continue to worship the Lord by bringing Him our prayer requests.”

  “We can sit now,” I whispered to Bianca.

  “I want to pray for my mom’s cancer again,” Lance said, his scruffy hair a little shorter than last time.

  “We definitely will, my friend. And do you remember what I told you last week?”

  “God created her and can heal her, too.”

  “Absolutely right,” Greg said, giving Lance a firm nod. “Anybody else have a need?”

  “I’d like to pray for my mom and dad. They’ve been fighting a lot and I’m afraid they might get divorced,” a girl with purple-streaked hair said.

  “Okay, Lydia. We’ll pray for God to bring peace to your home and also pray for His protection over you and your household. Remember our verse?”

  “Greater is the One in me than the one who is in the world.”

  “Yes, and Who is the One in you?”

  “God.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Sandy walked to Lydia and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Anybody else?” Greg asked.

  Saul raised his hand. “I need to, uh, apologize to someone and ask God’s forgiveness.”

  “Very humble of you, Saul. Sounds like you’re doing it in the right order. The Bible says in Matthew five, the second sentence of verse twenty-four, First go and be reconciled to your brother; and then come and offer your gift.’”