Page 142 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

“Got anymore?” Maw Maw asked.

Atlee shook his head. A smart choice in my opinion. If he went on much longer he would’ve gotten the shoe.

Satisfied, Maw Maw rolled her shoulders back. “Good.”

This was great. I was laughing inside. That is until Maw Maw turned her attention back to me. Then I washed away whatever sign of amusement I had on my face and prayed she didn’t hear my silent chuckles.

“Come on, Novalee, we are leaving.”

“Can I have another muffin…”

“You better get your ass in that car.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I knew better than to question Maw Maw when looked at me like that.

Gio did not.

When I went to walk out of the room, he stepped in my way.

“She’s not going anywhere.”

“Young man,” Maw Maw stepped up to him. It was kind of funny seeing a little old woman puff her chest up to a guy the size of Gio. Maw Maw made me look tall. “You best get out of our way.”

Maw Maw wasn’t a Ford, she was from the maternal side of my family. But if Gio didn’t get out of the way, I might end up with another family member in jail.

Big bad Gio Mancini stepped to the side with one look from my Maw Maw.

We walked out, but not before she looked back at Atlee and said, “I’ll see you at church on Sunday.”

NOVALEE

There were two things in life that kept me sane. Messing with Memphis—I had to show him my love somehow—and my music. Neither of which were available when we got home. Memphis wasn’t there and Maw Maw confiscated my MP3 player and phone. So, I was sent to my room with nothing but my own mind to occupy my time.

That was a dangerous game. I could do some interesting things when I was bored. And by bored I meant distracting myself from my thoughts. That was one place I did not want togo and confinement did not help that. Although, I suppose there were worse places to be imprisoned than my bedroom.

Sure, I had to listen to Maw Maw’s angry storming around the kitchen, banging pots and pans. I did have some things in here to occupy my time. Like the shoes I’d stolen from Gio.

The first hours I spent building a shrine to them. Pu them up on the top shelf with Christmas lights and few crosses, because a shrine wasn’t a shrine without some kind of religious artifact. I even found a fancy pillow to put on the floor for anyone who wanted to pray to the red sneakers God.

After that I cleaned up a bit and found a few things I thought were gone forever. My missing blue sock, a picture of Memphis and I in our seven-year-old Halloween costumes, and a hair clip that I wasn’t entirely sure was mine. Of course, had to toss a few shirts on the floor after, because it was too clean. What kind of teenager had a spotless room? That was just unnatural.

Then came the race across the room, which darted from one end to the other and back again, which by the way was the least interesting race in the history of the world. But I did win the coveted Styrofoam cup, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time.

Now, I was completely out of ideas.

The only objects available were one of Knox’s toy cars and a yoyo I stole from those pissants Billy and Kyle. The yoyo I was pretty sure was cursed—I kept whacking myself in the face with it—so I opted for the car and drove it around my bed while I waited for Maw Maw to calm down.

She was really mad. I had two collisions with pillows, a major sock pileup on the blanket highway, and a high speed chase down the bed frame alley, before the banging in the kitchen stopped.

That’s when my gut started to swirl. Loud and abusive to the kitchen Maw Maw was a form of angry I could handle. It was when she got quiet that I started to worry. Quiet Maw Maw likedto talk, and the subject matter this time was not something I was looking forward to.

I sat on my bed listening to her footsteps come closer and tried to think about what I was going to say. She was going to want to know what I was doing with Gio Mancini, and the truth wouldn’t exactly go over well. Maw Maw wouldn’t have a bunch of bikers follow me around—a few of which were currently parked across the street—but she would call the cops and demand the Mancini’s be arrested. An act that would not end well for anyone I cared about.

I really only had one option. Play the ‘you can’t keep us apart’ crazy teenage girl. I could cry and scream, maybe throw a few things. It sounded easy enough. It wouldn’t be my first tantrum. That was how I got the last piece of Veda’s birthday cake. Sibling rivalry was a way of life.

Preparing myself, I tried to think of something sad to help me cry, as Maw Maw walked up and threw the door open.

“Lunch is ready.”

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