A Smidgen of Sky Read Online Free PDF Page A

way. But Robert Redford smiling down at me made me think of Daddy, and I realized that fixing the dress hadn’t really solved anything at all. I flopped down next to Mowgli and thought about the day Mama had met Ben. She’d come home from her shift at the Black-eyed Pea with leftover biscuits and gravy for our supper, her face all pink and happy.
    Mama definitely smiled more now and looked prettier. She even sang as she did stuff around the house. Those were nice things. But then I noticed my fifth-grade school picture on the bookshelf. It reminded me of another picture, my favorite one in the world.
    I got my aviation scrapbook off my dresser. Daddy grinned out at me from a big newspaper clipping, his Piper Cub parked a few feet behind him. The picture was taken the day he was awarded a silver plaque for his flawless ten-year safety record taking aerial photographs for the Georgia Board of Tourism.
    Mama had clipped five newspaper articles about Daddy—this one about the award and the other four about the accident—and had given them to me when I’d started the scrapbook.
    I laid my school picture beside the grinning photo of Daddy, comparing our faces the way I’d done a hundred times before. We had the same chestnut hair—thick and with a mind all of its own. Mama said we had the same smile. I couldn’t be sure; I looked pretty serious in my school picture. The longer I compared them, the more the photos blurred together. I wiped at my eyes.
    â€œDaddy,” I whispered. “I am so sorry I kept you from going up to look for those people earlier.”

5

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    I MUST HAVE fallen asleep, for the next thing I heard was Mama’s key jiggling the lock. I sat up and stretched, trying to shake off the sleepy feeling as I stumbled out to the living room.
    Mama struggled through the door, balancing her purse and two overloaded grocery bags. “Hey, kiddo.”
    â€œHey, Mama. Today’s not grocery day.”
    â€œNo, but Ben and Ginger are coming for supper tonight. Did you forget?”
    Oh, yahoo.
“I don’t remember you telling me.”
    Mama kicked off her loafers and handed me one of the bags.
    I peeked inside. “No okra in here, I hope.”
    â€œNope. I thought we’d just fry up some chicken and have corn bread and salad with it. Nothin’ too fancy. Oh, shoot. I forgot to buy buttermilk.”
    I knew what she was thinking. Ginger hated corn bread without buttermilk to pour on top. I hid my smile. “Oh, well,” I said.
    Supper was supposed to be at five thirty, but Ben and Ginger didn’t show up. Mama set the chicken in the oven to keep it warm. It smelled so good, I could hardly stand it. By ten to six my belly rumbled like thunder. I kept picking little bits of tomato and celery off the salad.
    They finally showed up at six thirty. Ben was still wearing his tan prison-guard uniform, and his hair was rumpled. I’d never seen him look so tired. He ducked his head to give Mama a kiss. “Sorry, y’all,” he said.
    Ginger wore shorts and a pink tank top that said “Miss Kitty” across the front. I wondered if she was wearing that training bra again. I still needed to talk to Mama about getting me one.
    Mama gave Ben the once-over, reaching up to smooth his hair. “What happened, guy? Rough day?”
    â€œSomethin’ like that.”
    â€œWanna talk about it?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. I’m starved.”
    â€œMe too,” I said. “Supper’s been ready for—” Mama shot me a look, and I shut my mouth.
    Ginger caught the look and giggled. “What’s that, Piper?”
    â€œMama made corn bread, but we’re outta buttermilk.”
    Her face turned into a big wrinkle. “Piper Lee, that is not what you were gonna say.”
    â€œHey,” Ben warned. “I’m not in the mood, so don’t even start.”
    Ginger narrowed her eyes at me from behind his