11. Alicia

BEFORE

Smile.

It was Grammy's voice Alicia heard as she bounced along in the passenger seat of her social worker's Volvo. Smile, be polite, and do what you're told. That's what Grammy would tell her to do, so of course that's what she'd do. She was going to think of it like an adventure. Who knew? It might end up being a lot of fun.

"It's only temporary," Sandi said, tapping her pink nails against the steering wheel. She had permed blond hair and electric-blue frosted eyeshadow and reminded Alicia of Sarah Jessica Parker in Girls Just Want to Have Fun. "Before you know it, your grandmother will be better and you'll be back home."

Alicia nodded bravely, but she was nervous. Grammy had had a fall. At the hospital, the nurses had said it would take weeks, or even months, before Grammy would have recovered enough to return home. Months! It was hard to fathom waiting months to see Grammy again.

When Alicia had seen her at the hospital, she'd been shocked at the sight of her. Grammy looked so… old. So frail. It must have been the hospital gown and bed. Alicia wasn't used to thinking of Grammy as old or frail. She was so full of life! She sold raffle tickets for Rotary, volunteered at the local library, and chased birds off her plants by shaking her walking stick at them. She had wild hair, a heavy gait (both of which Alicia had inherited), and razor-sharp judgment. But hands down the greatest thing about Grammy was her laugh—raucous and boisterous, it reverberated around any room and even the most po-faced person couldn't help but laugh along. Once, when pulled over, Grammy made the police officer laugh so hard she wet herself. (Needless to say, Grammy got out of the ticket.)

Alicia's father had died when she was very little, and when her mother had a breakdown a few years later, Grammy hadn't missed a beat, scooping up her granddaughter and raising her. Alicia knew that her circumstances—being raised by her grandparents—were different from most of her peers, but in her opinion her circumstances were vastly superior. Unlike most parents, Grammy had no interest in forcing Alicia to eat vegetables or heed strict bedtimes, and if Alicia didn't feel like going to school Grammy urged her to take the day off and come along to mah-jongg instead.

"We're lucky to have found this place at short notice," Sandi said as they turned in to the driveway of a picturesque farmhouse. "There are two other girls around your age living here."

As they drew nearer, Alicia noticed the huge swimming pool and decided to look on the bright side. She'd always wanted a swimming pool. Life was all about your attitude, Grammy always said. Alicia was going to face this situation with the best attitude she could muster.

Sandi parked in front of the house. On the porch a pretty blond woman stood, waving. Alicia waved back. Beside her were two girls: one bow-lipped with glossy black hair and intense brown eyes; the other brown-skinned, blue-eyed, and gangly-tall.

"You must be Alicia," the woman said, when Alicia got out of the car. "I'm Miss Fairchild. Welcome to Wild Meadows."

Miss Fairchild ran her gaze ran over Alicia, as if appraising her. Alicia stood up straighter.

"Thank you," she said politely. "It's good to be here."

They lapsed into an awkward silence as Sandi retrieved Alicia's suitcases from the back of the car. She expected that Miss Fairchild would break the silence, perhaps by asking how far she'd traveled, or telling her what they had planned for the afternoon. But the woman didn't say a word.

Sandi put Alicia's suitcases beside her on the grass. She'd brought three with her—one containing clothes, another with books, and a final one with photographs and keepsakes from home. Overkill, perhaps, but she didn't know how long she'd be staying.

"Don't you have a lot of things?" Miss Fairchild said, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

"Oh, I probably overpacked," she'd said, embarrassed. "Grammy always told me to be prepared for anything."

"How sweet of Grammy." Miss Fairchild smiled tightly. "Why don't you head on inside, while I have a quick chat with Sandi. Jessica, Norah, help Alicia with her things."

The girls each grabbed a bag. Alicia picked up the remaining one and followed them inside.

"Thanks," Alicia said when they set down her cases in the living room.

"It's okay," the tall one said. The other one shrugged. After that, neither girl spoke. It wasn't exactly the instant chemistry Alicia had been hoping for, but they were probably as nervous as she was, she reasoned. Grammy always said that the best way to break tension was to make a joke, so when Alicia spotted the Russian dolls on the mantel, she knew what to do.

"I hate Russian dolls," she said. "They seem nice at first but when you get to know them, they're really full of themselves."

She raised her eyebrows at the girls, who blinked at her slowly. It was as if they'd never heard a joke before. Finally, several seconds later than she should have, Norah laughed. It was so sudden, so abrupt, that Jessica and Alicia couldn't help laughing too.

"Full of themselves," she said. "Funny."

"What's funny?"

Alicia hadn't noticed Miss Fairchild leaning against the doorframe, watching them. She was smiling, but her gaze was hard. Upon seeing her, Jessica and Norah immediately stopped laughing, putting Alicia on edge.

"Oh," Alicia said. "Nothing. I was just making a joke."

"How wonderful," the woman said coolly. "I didn't realize we had a comedian among us."

"Right then," Sandi said, from behind Miss Fairchild. "I'll call with news of your grandmother as soon as I hear something. You be a good girl!"

Before Alicia could respond, Sandi was heading for her car. Every instinct Alicia possessed was urging her to run after the social worker. But what would she say? "I have a bad feeling about this woman"? "Something about her doesn't seem right"? Sandi would tell Alicia she was just nervous. And maybe she was. Maybe, once she'd settled in, she'd laugh about how nervous she'd been. And in a few weeks, she'd tell Grammy all about it, and all about the lovely time she'd had at Wild Meadows.

Alicia prayed that would be the case. Then she prayed that Grammy would get better quickly, so she could come and get her out of here.

They spent the afternoon cleaning. It was odd, since as far as Alicia could see, the place was already cleaner than Grammy's had ever been, and Grammy was extremely house-proud. The other girls didn't even complain.

"You show her the ropes, Norah," Miss Fairchild said.

Alicia, as it turned out, wasn't very good at cleaning. She did everything so badly that Norah had to go over it again after Alicia had finished.

"Sorry," Alicia said as Norah peered down at the sink, which Alicia had been cleaning with a rag for several minutes. "I'm not very good at this. My skills lie more in the area of making a mess."

Norah frowned. "Have you ever cleaned anything before?"

"Not really. Grammy does the cleaning at home. I guess I am pretty spoiled."

Norah considered this for a moment. "What happened to Grammy? Did she die?"

"No, no," Alicia said. "She had a fall, but she'll be fine. She's recuperating in the hospital. When I go home, I'm going to start cleaning to help her out," Alicia decided on the spot that that's what she'd do. "So, I need you teach me how you get the mirrors sparkling like this one."

"All right." Norah seemed, if not flattered to be asked, at least prepared to help. She pointed to the edge of the tub. "Sit there. The trick is to dry it with newspaper… and don't use too much spray. Watch."

Alicia watched Norah's long spindly arms fly across the glass in quick, sharp movements. When she was done, she showed Alicia how to clean the toilet, including those hard-to-reach spots at the back.

"You're a cleaning ninja," Alicia said admiringly. "A wizard!"

"You should see Jessica," Norah said, before adding: "By the way, she'll probably reorganize your stuff and remake your bed if she's not happy with it. Let her do it; it's easier."

"Roger that," Alicia said, appreciating the intel.

"And she's weirdly territorial about Miss Fairchild. She's been with her since she was little and—"

As if on cue, Miss Fairchild poked her head into the bathroom. "Goodness," she said when she saw Alicia sitting on the edge of the tub. "You're finished already, have you, Alicia? You must be an excellent cleaner."

But her expression said that she didn't believe that at all.

Alicia rose awkwardly to her feet.

"She is," Norah said. "And fast! I still have the sink to go."

Miss Fairchild's gaze slid to Norah. Clearly she wasn't stupid and she didn't like being treated as such.

"Is that right?"

"Yep," Norah said, scrubbing the sink. "She's a cleaning ninja. A wizard!"

"A comedian and a wizard?" Miss Fairchild said, her eyes narrowing. "Lucky us. Since she's so good at it, maybe tomorrow the wizard can clean all the bathrooms by herself!"

She stared at Alicia, who wanted to disappear under the woman's gaze. After what felt like an eternity, she left the room and Alicia sank back onto the side of the bath.

"Thank you," she said to Norah.

"Don't thank me," Norah said. "Just learn quickly."

Alicia somehow knew she wasn't just talking about the cleaning.

Dinner was a tiny serving of rice and beans that made Alicia ache for Grammy's cooking.

Grammy was an old-fashioned cook. At home, Alicia's days started with waffles or French toast, or maybe scrambled eggs with bacon and baked beans. Lunches were thick-cut sandwiches of ham and salad, plus fruit, and dinner was meat and three vegetables, followed by a bowl of ice cream or jelly or trifle.

Alicia had always been a good eater. That's how Grammy described it. My Alicia is a very good eater. Like it was a talent of hers. And indeed it was. Alicia always finished everything on her plate, including the vegetables.

At Wild Meadows, apparently, they didn't even get vegetables.

"May I have some more rice, please?" Alicia asked that night after she'd scraped her plate clean.

Jessica and Norah glanced at Miss Fairchild. Their apprehensive expressions put Alicia on guard. What had she said? She could see leftover rice on the stovetop from where she sat.

She laughed nervously. "Grammy says I have a big appetite."

Miss Fairchild sat back in her chair, taking her time to finish chewing. After she swallowed, she laid her cutlery in the center of her plate. "Sounds like Grammy was overfeeding you." She ran her gaze over Alicia, then gave her a tiny smile. "It's not your fault. People overfeed kids, making little gluttons of them. It's why we have a childhood-obesity epidemic."

Jessica and Norah looked at their plates.

Miss Fairchild stood to clear up and Alicia blinked back tears of surprise and humiliation. The first thing she did, Alicia noticed, was empty the remaining rice from the saucepan into the bin.

The moment Alicia closed the bathroom door, the tears came in a flood. It was a blessed relief, after fighting them back since dinner. Let them out! Grammy always exclaimed when Alicia cried, pulling her to her bosom. You'll feel better after.

But after ten minutes of crying, Alicia didn't feel better. It was a scary feeling, being shunned by an adult who was responsible for your care. Alicia was used to people being delighted by her. Grammy, obviously. All of Grammy's friends. Her teachers at school, her friends' parents. In her world, people were warm and friendly and kind. This place felt like a horrible parallel universe.

When she had finally cried herself out she returned to the bedroom, expecting to find the girls sitting up in bed, reading or chatting. Instead, the room was quiet. Each bed butted up against a wall. Jessica and Norah were on their sides, facing the center of the room. By the light of the dim lamp at Norah's bedside, Alicia saw that their eyes were closed.

It was so odd, so abrupt.

"Are you guys going to go straight to sleep?" Alicia asked as she sat on her bed.

"What else would we do?" Jessica whispered. "And keep your voice down!"

"I don't know," Alicia said, lowering her voice. "Faff around. Chat. Plan what clothes to wear tomorrow. Read a book."

No response. Norah, Alicia noticed, was frowning.

"At home," Alicia explained, "Grammy tells me a bedtime joke every night. Every night a different joke! I never understood how she had so many of them until I found a book of jokes under her bed." Alicia felt a fresh stab of sadness.

"What's a bedtime joke?" Norah said.

"Shhhh!" Jessica hissed.

"What should you do if you can't go to sleep?" Alicia said.

Norah opened her mouth to respond.

"No, you don't answer. It's a joke," Alicia explained.

"Oh," Norah said, but she still looked confused.

"You lie on the edge of the bed and soon you'll drop off."

Alicia waited for laughter, but both girls remained silent.

Then Norah said quietly, "I get it. You meant drop off to sleep, right? That's funny."

Jessica said nothing. Perhaps she was too busy shushing them and stealing glances at the doorway to take it in.

It wasn't exactly the response Alicia was hoping for, but she suspected it was the best she was going to get. She closed her eyes, ready to put an end to this horrible day. In her mind's eye she saw Grammy sitting on the edge of her bed, resting her blue-veined hand on Alicia's hip.

"Good night, Grammy," she whispered, not caring if Jessica or Norah heard her. "I'll be home soon."

Alicia had never told Grammy a lie. She hoped this wouldn't be her first.