The Girl Who Chased the Moon Read Online Free

her expectations. Her first day here, and he didn’t want to spend it with her.
    Standing at the screen door, Emily heard a swish of leaves and, startled, looked up to see a woman in her thirties walking up the front porch steps. She had light brown hair that was cut into a beautiful swinging bob just below her ears. Emily could never get her own bobbed hair to look like that. She’d been trying to grow it out forever, and could only manage a short ponytail with it. And even then, it fell out of the tail and around her face most of the time.
    The woman didn’t see Emily standing there until she reached the top step. She instantly smiled. “Hello! You must be Vance’s granddaughter,” she said as she came to a stop at the door. She had pretty, dark brown eyes.
    “Yes, I’m Emily Benedict.”
    “I’m Julia Winterson. I live over there.” She turned her head slightly, indicating the yellow and white house next door. That’s when Emily noticed the pink streak in Julia’s hair, tucked behind her ear. It wasn’t something she expected from someone so fresh-faced, in flour-stained jeans and a white peasant blouse. “I brought you an apple stack cake.” She opened the white box she was holding and showed Emily what looked like a stack of very large brown pancakes with some sort of filling in between each one. “It means …” she struggled with the word, then finally said, “welcome. I know Mullaby has its faults, as I’m sure your mother told you, but it’s also a town of great food. You’re going to eat very well while you’re here. At least there’s that.”
    Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an appetite for anything, much less food, but she didn’t tell Julia that. “My mother didn’t tell me anything about Mullaby,” Emily said, staring at the cake.
    “Nothing?”
    “No.”
    Julia seemed shocked into silence.
    “What?” Emily looked up from the cake.
    “It’s nothing,” Julia said, shaking her head. She closed the lid on the box. “Do you want me to put this in the kitchen?”
    “Sure. Come in,” Emily said as she opened the screen door for her.
    As Julia walked in, she noticed the note from Grandpa Vance still on the screen. “Vance asked me to take him grocery shopping yesterday morning so he could get some things for you,” she said, nodding toward the note. “His idea of teenager food was Kool-Aid, fruit roll-ups, and gum. I convinced him to buy chips, bagels, and cereal, too.”
    “That was nice of you,” Emily said. “To take him shopping, I mean.”
    “I was a big fan of the Giant of Mullaby when I was a kid.” When Emily looked at her, not understanding, Julia explained, “That’s what people around here call your grandfather.”
    “How tall is he?” Emily asked, her voice hushed, as if he might hear.
    Julia laughed. It was a great laugh, and hearing it was like stepping into a spot of sunshine. That she came bearing cake seemed oddly fitting. It was like she was made of cake, light and pretty and decorated on the outside—with her sweet laugh and pink streak to her hair—but it was anyone’s guess what was on the inside. Emily suspected it might be something dark. “Tall enough to see into tomorrow. That’s what he tells everyone. He’s over eight feet tall. I know that much. World record keepers came nosing around here once, but Vance wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”
    Julia knew the way to the kitchen, so Emily followed. The kitchen was large and kitschy, like something straight out of the 1950s. Years ago, it must have been a showplace. It was overwhelmingly red—red countertops, red and white tile floor, and a large red refrigerator that had a sliver pull handle, like a meat locker. Julia put the cake box on the counter, then turned to stare at Emily for a moment. “You look a lot like your mother,” she finally said.
    “You knew her?” Emily asked, perking up at the thought of finding someone willing to talk about her