Her Sister's Child. Cynthia Thomason
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of Glen Springs Elementary was a staid though seemingly competent individual who said he’d spoken to Cora and he understood the circumstances that made Katie’s enrollment unique. While Katie waited in the outer office, he assured Julia that the staff would do everything in their power to make her niece’s assimilation stress-free. Then he instructed his secretary to send Katie into his office.
Her eyes downcast and her hands fisted at her sides, Katie walked stiffly to the wooden chair on the other side of the principal’s desk.
Mr. Dickson interlaced his fingers on top of his desk, smiled and said, “So, you’re Katie.”
She didn’t respond. Julia wasn’t surprised. It was a rhetorical question.
“We’re very happy to welcome you as a Glen Springs Chipmunk,” he said.
Katie stared at her hands. Her feet, a clear six inches above the floor, began to swing.
“You can start tomorrow.” The principal waited for a reaction, predictably received none, and prompted, “How does that sound, young lady?”
Katie turned to Julia. “I don’t need to go to school,” she insisted.
“I was hoping that perhaps you’d want to, honey,” Julia said.
“I don’t. I want to stay with you and Grandma.”
Julia smiled. “We’re okay for a lot of things, but we can’t help you learn everything you need to know. You have to have a real teacher for that.”
Mr. Dickson added his sensible argument. “And the government requires that you attend school. You wouldn’t want your aunt and grandmother to get in trouble for keeping you out, would you?”
Katie stared up at him, her eyes crinkling in determination. “I can homeschool. Lots of kids do.”
Julia couldn’t help admiring Katie’s quick wits. Unfortunately homeschooling wasn’t possible for her niece. Once Julia returned to Manhattan, Cora wouldn’t have time to oversee lessons with her responsibilities at the store. “There are always options, Katie,” she said. “But I think we should try this one first.”
When Katie started to protest, she said, “And tomorrow will be just right. It’s Friday. You can attend one day and have the whole weekend to tell us about your class and the kids you met. What do you think of that idea?”
Katie didn’t appear to think much of it at all, so Julia tossed in one more selling point. “And after school, we can stay late, visit the library and take out some books.”
Baby steps, Julia. One inch at a time and eventually a foot is gained.
“We could do that, I guess,” Katie said.
Julia stood, extending her hand to Mr. Dickson. “We’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, if you would consult the school’s guidance counselor about Katie as we discussed, I’d be grateful.”
“Certainly. We’ll see you ladies in the morning.”
When they left the school five minutes later, Katie took Julia’s hand. “What are we going to do now?” she asked.
Julia paused, considering the answer. “Excellent question. I’m thinking we should go to the mall, have a snack at the food court and buy you some new clothes, maybe some especially sparkly things.” She smiled down at Katie. “Just in case Friday goes well, we have to be prepared for Monday.”
And then I’ll pick up Cameron at the hospital and see if he’s come up with a better option for his situation, she thought. Before starting her car, Julia called the hospital on her cell phone. The second floor nurse assured her that Cameron had come through the surgery just fine and was resting in the recovery room.
WITH SEVERAL shopping bags in the backseat of her rented Toyota and ice cream still sticky on their fingers, Julia and Katie headed up Whisper Mountain. Julia pulled into the gravel lot of Cora’s General Store and parked next to the cube van belonging to Sunny Vale Bakery. “Have you ever met Oscar?” she asked Katie.
“No.”
“Then you’re in for a treat, maybe literally, although you’ll have to save it for after dinner now.”
The store was crowded for a weekday afternoon. Cora had a line at the cash register, and Rosalie was helping customers pick out native-made jewelry from the glass showcase. A couple sat at one of the booths in the snack bar chowing down on Cora’s famous hot dogs, “the best on Whisper Mountain,” according to the sign on the store’s front porch. Of course, nowhere could the customers read that Cora’s hot dogs were the only ones offered, since the store was the only stop between the town of Glen Springs and the top of the mountain.
A middle-aged man with thick salt-and-pepper hair looked up from a display shelf where he was stocking prepackaged goodies labeled with the Sunny Vale trademark, a bright sun rising over a meadow. “Hey, Julia,” he called. “Good to see you.”
“Same here, Oscar.” She walked over, gave him a quick hug and stepped back so he could see Katie. “I’d like you to meet my niece.”
The man smiled at Katie. “I heard there was another golden-haired Sommerville lady here,” he said, his old-country accent as charming as always. Oscar Sobriato was proud of his Italian heritage. He rubbed his thumb over his chin and gave serious consideration to the items he’d arranged so far. “I wonder what this little one would like, hmm? Do you suppose she wants a MoonPie?”
Julia laughed. Oscar had been on this route for only five years, but legends were passed down forever on Whisper Mountain. “I know her to be a cookie fanatic,” she said.
“Pick out what you like,” Oscar said, waving Katie closer to the goodies. While Katie studied her choices, Oscar took Julia’s arm and led her down the aisle. Placing his thick, soft hands on the sides of her face, he said, “I’m so sorry, Julia. I remember when you were here for your papa’s funeral. Such a short time ago, and now Cora can’t even bury her daughter in the family tradition.”
“Thanks, Oscar. Folks have stopped by all week. That has helped.”
He folded his arms. “How are they doing—your mama and the little one?”
“Okay, I guess. Katie is so quiet. That really worries me. And Mama…” She tried to give the impression that she wasn’t overly concerned about Cora. “Well, Mama is Mama. She’s sad but trying to cope.”
Oscar glanced over at the cash register. “She’s got a strong constitution, that one.”
Julia’s eyes widened. My mama?
Oscar thumped his chest. “And a heart as big as this mountain. She loves with it and grieves with it, and always takes care of those around her.”
Julia followed his gaze, tried to see her mother as Oscar did. She supposed she could agree with the heart part of his description, but the rest of it was up for debate. When she looked back at Oscar, she realized his attention hadn’t wavered from Cora.
“But she looks tired,” he said. “And too thin.” He patted his own round belly. “She needs to eat more. Pasta, some hearty Italian sausage. And a few napoleons wouldn’t hurt, either.” He shook a finger at Julia. “You see to it, okay?”
“Okay.” As she walked back to Katie, Julia watched her mother with the customers. She smiled as she always had, but the gesture was void of any real feeling. She engaged in small talk, but her voice sounded flat, toneless. All the Sommerville women had blond hair, but Cora’s lacked any sign of a healthy luster. Her blunt cut hung straight to her shoulders and was streaked with coarse gray strands that made her pale face appear washed-out, older than her fifty-eight years. An idea occurred to Julia. There had been an aisle at Pope’s Drugstore for Katie. And there was one for Cora, too.
Julia settled Katie at a booth with a coloring book and crayons. When the last customer paid his bill, she went to the register. “Has Cameron called,