Palmetto Moon Read Online Free Page B

having a father?
    She hears the truck doors open and pulls back the curtain to get a better look at the two people below. There is just enough light from the slight moon to see one is a white woman, the other, dark, maybe colored. Jonathan’s breath stutters a little. Claire turns her attention away from the window and holds him a little closer. His gangly limbs bounce against her, reminding her how big he is, how big Daniel and Peter are, too.
    The woman hugs the dark figure and then takes her suitcase up the front steps. The man gets into the truck and drives away. Claire puts Jonathan beside his brothers, who lie straight and tall like sleeping soldiers. She goes back to the window.
    She wonders who the woman is and why she came here in the middle of the night. From the window, Claire can’t see the porch, but she can hear the old swing creaking slower and slower, until it stops. She imagines the woman has fallen asleep. Her intuition tells her the woman isn’t trouble. Hopefully, knowing who she is and why she came to Round O tomorrow will confirm that. Her heart flutters a bit as she crawls back into bed. Claire hopes the woman is kind and maybe close to her age. It’s been so long since she had a friend, a true friend, it’s almost too much to hope for.

    Something hard jabs at my ribs, and I awake to see an old woman poking me with a broom handle. “No vagrants here. Move along now or I’ll call the county sheriff.”
    I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and the gray woman gives me another poke for good measure. “
Oww.
Stop that.” I push the broom away. “I’m no vagrant.”
    The boxy gray-haired woman glares at me. “Who are you and what do you want?” The crusty tone of her skin matches her gray dress and shoes.
    “I’m Vada
Hadley
,” I say in a huff, stupidly, without thinking. This may be the shortest stint for a runaway in the history of runaways. I pause for a beat. My name means nothing to her. Elation bubbles up.
My name means nothing to her.
    She looks at my suitcase and mumbles something about it being a beat-up old piece of grip. “If you’re here for a room, I’ve got none. Move on.”
    “But your sign says you
do
have a vacancy.”
    “You on my doorstep like a boxcar orphan first thing this morning? Who knows what kind of riffraff you are. I got a room, but not for you, missy.”
    “I know this may not look proper, but my father dropped me off early this morning, before you opened up. He didn’t want to leave me here alone, but he had to get back to go work. I told him this looked like such a fine establishment, I was sure I’d be okay.”
    She starts to jab me again in the ribs, and I push the broom away. “I said, move on.”
    There’s no place else to go, no hotel, not even a motel. And the town isn’t really a town at all—just a spot where two country roads crisscross. A few tiny clapboard houses are scattered about, along with a lone church and some kind of business that claims to be a diner, a general store, and a post office all rolled into one. I look at the sign again,
Miss Mamie’s Boarding House—VACANCY
. Okay, Vada, vinegar or honey? Honey or vinegar? Decide.
    “Miss Mamie, I’m interviewing for a teaching position at the school on Monday.”
    “I don’t care. You’re not staying here.”
    “I’d greatly appreciate if I could stay until I have the interview. I’d pay you, of course, and if I get the job, I’ll pay you three months in advance.”
    She looks at Rosa Lee’s suitcase again and narrows her eyes. “I don’t think you have that kind of money, but make it six months and you can stay. Twenty dollars a month, five a piece for tonight and Sunday. No job, no room, and you move on like the vagrant I’m sure you are.”
    “Agreed.” I reach to shake on it, but she turns on the heels of her awful shoes and goes back inside.
    “Room’s at the top of the stairs. No drinking. No smoking. Breakfast is at seven,” she yells over her