School of Charm by Lisa Ann Scott

gaze out at her backyard, with its neat rows of droopy roses glowing under the moon.
    But then I heard a muffled noise I hadn’t heard before. It sounded like one of those dead stuffed animals had come back to life to haunt Grandma. Or a wounded bird. Maybe it was some sort of mourning dove we didn’t have back home. It continued its sad song until I had to get up and investigate. I followed its cry down the hall, past the locked room, and toward the living room, thinking it might be in the rhododendron bush in front of the window.
    I froze on the top stair. It wasn’t a bird crying at all. It was Mama. She was sobbing into her hands like she was trying to push the tears back in. She sat on one of Grandma’s stiff-backed chairs, trying so hard not to cry, all those porcelain dolls watching her like they just couldn’t believe it.
    I sank down onto the stair and watched her too, my fingers shaking as I clenched my hands in my lap. I’d never seen Mama cry. Not even after Daddy died. There was so much to do afterward, picking out the casket and headstone, planning the funeral lunch, and selling the house. Daddy always said Mama was so strong. She definitely wasn’t a crier. Once, Mama burned her hand on the stove, and she let out a string of curse words instead of sobs. It was like Mama always skipped sad and went straight to mad.
    But this time, sadness must’ve crept into her heart and waited until she was all alone to sink its teeth into her. And it was chomping down hard. It scared me to see her crying like that. I hung my head, knowing I was the one who’d reminded her of Daddy and had made her sad. Charlene was right. I shouldn’t upset Mama. I wanted to go and hug her and tell her I was sorry—so sorry, so sorry, so sorry. But I ran back to my room and smacked right into Grandma.
    â€œWhat are you doing sneaking around my house, young lady?” Grandma looked strange without her penciled-in lips and bright pink blush. Standing there in the dim light, she looked like a picture someone had started erasing. She walked to the off-limits room and checked the doorknob.
    I pulled my gaze away from the door and looked at the floor. What could be so awful she had to hide it behind a locked door? “Sorry, Grandma. I was just going to the bathroom.” I ran to my bedroom before she could say another word. I crawled into bed thinking about how disappointed Daddy would be with me, hurting Mama like I did. I won’t make her sad again, Daddy. I promise.
    I touched the charms on my bracelet, wishing one of them could teach me a particular lesson: how to make my mama happy. I wondered how she would look at me the next morning. Would it be one of her disappointedinme looks? Or worse? Maybe I’d hurt her so much, she wouldn’t even look at me at all.

chapter nine
    I LEFT THE HOUSE BEFORE EVERYONE GOT UP SO I wouldn’t have to see Mama’s puffy eyes. I’m out exploring! I wrote on a note. If they knew I was going back to Miss Vernie’s school, they’d probably be upset. I apologized to Daddy for the fib. It wasn’t a total lie. Certainly I would do some exploring. I grabbed Earl’s bowl from under the bush and headed up the road.
    I hurried along Miss Vernie’s driveway. It seemed curvier than I remembered. Maybe it was the morning shadows tricking me. Her wind chimes were tinkling, but the air was thick and still. The woods seemed to hum. I ran toward her house, uncertain what I was feeling.
    Miss Vernie was sipping tea on her back porch when I poked my head around the corner. She was already wearing a white-and-pink-checkered dress, her makeup on, and her buttery blond hair pulled up in a bun. “Chip? You’re early. I don’t imagine the other girls will be getting here for a while.”
    â€œI know. I was awake and thought I’d come over.”
    She patted the chair next to her. “Sit. Let me get you a cup of tea and