Chasing Lilacs by Carla Stewart Page A

mean.” I didn’t know what I meant, but then I couldn’t explain what had just happened either. I moved over
     to the chair and said, “Here, Mama, let’s put things back.”
    Why hadn’t I stayed home with her? Her first day back and all. How could I have run off like that?
    Mama handed me the cans to put back and laughed in her regular way when I told her about my interview with Willy. He’d come
     from Minnesota to open up the store here at Graham Camp. His cousins had a farm near here, and when he and his wife had come
     to visit they liked it.
    “Graham Camp is a nice place,” Mama said. “Your daddy and I have always thought it was a wonderful place for you to grow up.”
    When a knock came on the door, Mama went to answer it, her steps light and springy.
    “Yes?”
    I expected it would be Tuwana, but…
    “You must be Sam’s mom. I’m Cly MacLemore, Norm and Eva’s nephew.”
    “How nice to meet you. Come in, young man.”
    I stepped into the front room, my stomach heaving triple somersaults.
    “Hi, Sam.” Cly took off his baseball cap, and underneath it he had a new flattop haircut.
    “Nice hair.”
    “Yeah, got Slim to do that.”
    “Slim?” Mama asked, looking Cly over.
    “Yeah, old man Wallace, across the street from my uncle. He’s pretty hip for an old guy. Which is one reason I came over.
     He’s been teaching me the finer points of backgammon. Whips me every time. And, well, bein’ Sam’s such a brain and all, I
     thought maybe she could learn too so I’d have someone to practice on.”
    Was this the same Cly? What kind of magic did Mama have that he just opened up his mouth so whole paragraphs poured out? Just
     like with Tuwana and me.
    “Slim gets home about five,” Cly said. “You could come after supper for a lesson.” He gripped his cap in both hands, bending
     the bill back and forth, standing on one foot and then shifting his weight to the other.
    “How nice.” Mama apparently didn’t know about Daddy forbidding me to see Cly. I swiped my sweaty palms on my shorts.
    “Tell me, Cly, where are you from?” Mama said.
    “LA mostly.”
    “California? Oh my, you’re a long way from home. What do your parents do?”
    “Dad’s in construction.” The way he kept folding the bill back and forth, I figured a permanent crease had formed. It was
     nice of Mama to ask Cly all those questions even though I’d already told her all about him in my letters.
    “I’m sure they miss you. I know I sure missed my Sammie while I was away.” For a minute I thought she might run right into
     a spiel about Marilyn Monroe and the layered lady, but she just tilted her mouth into a grin and said to me, “I think I’ll
     take a bath before your dad gets home. You two can chat.”
    “Wanna sit down?” Alone with Cly for the second time, I got the same butterfly-wing-flapping I’d felt that night on the sidewalk.
    “That’s okay, I oughta get going. See if old Norm’s got anything for me to do.”
    “You’re doing okay with your uncle then?”
    “I’m trying. He ain’t the easiest fellow to please, but Aunt Eva’s a bossin’ cook.”
    “About tonight. I don’t think…” I could hear Mama’s bathwater running.
    “Your mom seemed cool with it.”
    “It’s not that…. Well, it sort of is. I need to stay home with Mama, with her just getting back and all.”
    “Jeepers, she ain’t a baby.”
    “Look, Cly, I like you. Honest, I do. It’s just that…” A spider no bigger than a grain of rice shinnied up an invisible thread
     near the ceiling. I watched it instead of looking at Cly. “It would be easier if you just sat down.” I pointed to Daddy’s
     chair.
    He sat down, and I perched on the edge of the couch.
    “Well, you see, it’s like this. Tuwana’s crazy about you. I’m sure you’ve noticed the way she goes into orbit the minute you’re
     around. She’s been my best friend since first grade, and if I hang around you, she gets upset.”
    “Tu-tu?