The Orange Blossom Special Read Online Free PDF Page A

nails, sharp as stilettos. “Crystalhoney, it’s not too soon for you to start thinking about weekly manicures,” she said. “You can’t go around with peasant hands for the rest of your life. And sweet thing, don’t you think one roll is plenty?”
    Charlie raised his eyebrows. It always struck him funny how his mother’s conversation traveled like a switchback. He also wondered if she would ever get over the fact that Crystal was thick-boned and hadn’t inherited her tiny waist. Charlie worried about things like that, even though Crystal couldn’t care less.
    At seventeen, he was short and thickset and weighed down with an unyielding sense of what was just and what wasn’t. He thought that because he was a boy, or because of his likeness to his father, that his mother rarely directed her critical comments toward him. In truth, Victoria always felt Charlie saw through her. He would look at her funny when she talked about the landscaper or used fancy words like
indigenous,
as if he knew she was pretending to be somebody she wasn’t. Unlike her, he was not comfortable with the visible wealth of his family. Even as a child, he rarely invited other kids over. He was the one who demanded that Ella join them at the dinner table and that she share their Easter and Christmas. When he was seven, the family went on a picnic to the Ichetucknee River. As they sat eating their egg and cheese sandwiches, two black children circled their blanket, screaming and laughing as the big one chased the little one. Victoria became uneasy and whispered to Maynard, “You’d think they’d have their own place to go.” Charlie had looked at her as though she had just given him a scolding. “Mama,” he said, “God just wants them to have a good time. He doesn’t care where they do it.”
    The remark became part of family lore, and left Victoria feeling that Charlie was special in a way that the rest of them weren’t. Normally she didn’t give things like that much thought, but just in case this was so, she treated him with consideration. Crystal was different:life rolled off her like sweat. Victoria didn’t have to watch herself around her.
    â€œMmm, love these rolls,” said Crystal in a taunting voice, reaching for another. “So listen to this. There’s this sort of new girl in my class. And, well, there’s this guy we call Eddie Fingers. They’ve got some secret code going on between them. They do this signaling thing with their hands, shooting numbers back and forth, like they know what they’re talking about. It drives me crazy.”
    For the first time since they sat down, Maynard seemed interested. “Who’s Eddie Fingers?” he asked.
    â€œOh, you know.” Crystal sounded impatient. “This kid in my class who has an extra finger on his left hand.”
    â€œIs that why you call him Eddie Fingers?”
    â€œNo, Dad. We call him Eddie Fingers because his hair’s so short. Of course that’s why we call him Eddie Fingers!”
    â€œWhat does the extra finger look like?” Maynard asked.
    â€œIt kind of looks like a baby’s pinky, real skinny, with an eensy weensy fingernail.”
    â€œCrystal, that is disgusting.” Victoria put her fork down. “Why on earth would you concern yourself with a boy and his deformity, and some pathetic new girl starved for friendship? Could we please talk about something a little less gruesome? When do the cheerleading tryouts begin?”
    Maynard ignored her. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
    Crystal shook her head. “It started a couple of months ago, the first day she walked into class, like they’d known each other forever.”
    â€œDo you know anything about her?” Charlie asked.
    â€œOnly that she wears the worst clothes,” said Crystal. “I think her father’s dead or something. She lives