Page 26 of Paper Ghosts

“This isn’t up for discussion,” she said. “The one thing my grandmother let me choose was my own friends, and look where it got me, where it got you. I have to do this.” She paused. “I’m not beautiful when I’m angry. And I’m too old for you to be flirting with me.”

Bailey’s school clothes were so new they made sounds when she moved—her sneakers squeaked and her dress rustled—so Mim turned quickly from looking into the living room when Bailey stepped into the foyer.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked.

“Just myself.” Mim smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had other people in the house. I need to curb my tendency to speak out loud.”

“Daddy said we’re going to be late.”

“I’m getting my jacket now,” Mim said, and walked down the hall to her bedroom.

Bailey hesitated a moment, then quickly poked her head into the living room, fully expecting to catch Jack by surprise.

The room was empty.

When they reached the school a few minutes later, it was bustling with the nervous energy always accompanying firsts. But once it was known that Willamena was there, people grew quiet and actually parted in the hallway for her.

Everyone, that is, except Pam Keller, who came toward them at a fast clip.

“Tug! Exciting day, isn’t it? My first day at work!” She stood back as if to let him admire her. She looked better than Bailey had ever seen her, in slacks with a crisp crease, and rather a lot of makeup.

“And the girls’ first day of school,” Tug reminded her.

“Yes, of course.” Pam turned to Mim and looked like she wanted to curtsy, just as Bailey had the first day she met her. “Hello, Mrs. Wester. I’m Pam Keller. My ex-husband is Jani Keller’s nephew. She was like your sister in high school, right? We’re practically related!”

Mim just stared at her.

Pam waited a few seconds longer than most people would have, which began to feel awkward. Finally, she laughed and waved her hand. “I should go!”

“Good luck,” Tug said. After she left, he added in a lower voice, “You could have at least acknowledged her.”

“That’s not my way, Tug,” Mim said.

“Yes,” he said as they walked into Bailey’s classroom. “I know that very well.”

While he and Mim went to introduce themselves to her teacher, Bailey ran to Tasha, who was standing alone in the classroom’s reading nook. Tasha looked instantly relieved. She said her mother had dropped her off and not lingered, anxious to get to work, but Tasha’s shoelaces had come untied and she didn’t know how to tie them. Bailey went to her knees and tied them for her. She had so much to tell her about her weekend and tea with Mim, but as she stood, Tug approached and said, “We’re leaving now, sweetheart. Have a good day. If you two stick together, you’ll be fine.”

Bailey gave him a hug, her eyes searching for Mim and the possibility of hugging her, too, though Mim seemed very prickly about touching. She found her by the teacher’s desk, where she was leaning in, whispering something. The teacher jerked her head back as if shocked. She finally nodded and got up from her desk, crossing the room to where the students’ desks were grouped in fours. She took a name card off one of the desks and walked to the farthest corner and switched it with another name card.

Apparently satisfied, Mim went to the door to wait for Tug.

After that day, Bailey and Tasha weren’t even allowed to sit with each other at lunch, or be on the same team at recess. Bailey was an instant object of attention, which she wasn’t used to being and thoroughly enjoyed. But that wasn’t the case for Tasha. Several kids already knew her from church and seemed to actively dislike her, calling her Smeller, even though she didn’t smell at all. She was, in fact, quite clean. It weighed heavily on Bailey’s mind, the sheer injustice of it all. All week she concocted plans to thwart their teacher, to convince the rest of the kids to like Tasha, to rescue her. She never once doubted her ability. It was just a matter of time.

Like her dad said, they had to stick together.

On Friday after school, Tug informed Bailey that Mim had invited her to another tea in the sunroom.

As soon as they walked into the Wester House, she dropped her backpack and darted to the sunroom, leaving Tug to pick the bag up. She knocked, and then ran inside.

“Tell me about your first week at school,” Mim said, and began to pour the tea.

Bailey hopped in one of the magpie chairs, and was immediately distracted by the fact that there were cookies on a plate today. Thin, buttery ones with almond slivers that looked like shadows of petals baked inside. Every day she came home from school positively ravenous, as if she’d been wandering in the wilderness for weeks. “Our teacher separated me and Tasha. I don’t like that part, but I’m going to fix it.”

“I’m glad she did as I suggested.” She extended the plate of cookies and Bailey took one.

“You told her to do it?”

“Suggested,” Mim said. “And that she should be more discreet if she continued to spend time alone with your married principal. I found it unwise to make friends when I was young, Bailey. Consider making strategic allies, instead. Friends will hurt you more than you can possibly imagine.”