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Prologue:
Savannah, Georgia
“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Dear Fancy. Happy Birthday to you.”
Francine “Fancy” Tolliver gazed upon the beautifully decorated cake sitting in front of her on the table. She let out a little sigh. It was pink and white and super pretty, but she’d told Mama to make it blue because blue was her favorite color.
“Most little girls love pink,” Mama had scolded. “You should too. Blue is for boys.”
Fancy didn’t think colors should be divided into boy colors and girl colors. That made no sense to her, but it wasn’t as if she could talk back to Mama. That would get her in big trouble.
The nine candles on the cake were bright pink too, Fancy realized. Not a hint of blue anywhere. The balloons were pink too. Pink and white.
She drew a deep breath and blew out all the candles. Everyone began clapping and calling her name.
“You did it!” Olivia said, a big smile lighting up her face.
“Good job, Fancy!” Hope called out.
“Your cake is beautiful,” Callie gushed, her emerald eyes flashing.
Her best friends knew her favorite color was pink. She loved them all the more for not questioning why it was blue instead.
All of her best friends were here today. Olivia. Hope. Callie. Charlotte. And Morgan. She loved them so much. And they loved her too.
She wished that they had been the only ones invited today, but Mama had insisted on inviting the children of her dearest friends. And the children of some of Daddy’s work colleagues. Most of them she wasn’t even friends with, but she hadn’t been given a choice. None of them were particularly nice to her. She’d heard them whispering about her at school. They were so obvious, as if they wanted her to hear their mean words.
Fancy looked around the crowd to see if Daddy had arrived yet. He was coming back from a business trip in London and she had been missing him something fierce. He was late though. And she felt like crying because it was time to cut the cake and it wouldn’t be too long until the party was over.
How could he miss her ninth birthday party? Didn’t he love her anymore? She worried about whether she was loveable.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Fancy said in a soft voice. She had been holding it in for a long time. But she was about to burst. And it would humiliate Mama if she had an accident right here in front of everyone at the party. She wanted to ask Hope or Morgan to come with her, but she knew Mama wouldn’t like it.
“Hurry up,” her mother snapped. “You need to hand out the cake. And don’t forget to smile when you’re doing it.”
Huh? It was her birthday. Wasn’t the birthday girl supposed to get the first piece of cake? Why was she the one handing it out? Mama always wanted her to have manners and to be perfect, but today of all days, she just wanted to be herself. Even though it didn’t have blue icing, she wanted more than anything to dig into a big fat piece of birthday cake.
Fancy let herself into the house through the basement side door. Although the upstairs bathroom next to the kitchen was closer, being down here would give her a moment to get away from the party. She felt so sad that her father hadn’t shown up yet and she didn’t know how to hide it. But if she pouted or looked sad, Mama was sure to get angry about it. She always did.
“Hide your emotions on the inside, Francine.” It was Mama’s favorite line.
She made her way through the playroom toward the bathroom at the end of the long hallway. The heat of the summer afternoon faded away as the cool temperature of the basement provided a soothing respite from the ninety-degree day. Fancy discreetly sniffed her underarm area to see if she still smelled fresh. Mama always said that properly brought up young ladies never perspired or smelled rank. Sometimes Fancy thought she could write a book about all the things Mama constantly drilled into her head.
As she got closer toward the bathroom, Fancy could hear familiar voices talking loudly.
“She thinks she’s so great just because she got a Japanese Kimono for her birthday. It’s so lame.” The sneering voice was easily recognizable as Meryl Snyder.Meryl was a mean girl in her class with beady eyes, frizzy hair and bad clothes. Fancy thought she had absolutely no sense of fashion whatsoever. In Fancy’s world, that was a crime. If she wasn’t such a nasty piece of work, Fancy could easily forgive her for her lack of fashion sense.
The door was slightly open and she could see two figures preening in front of the mirror. A flash of red caught her attention. Georgia Manson was in there with Meryl. Another meanie. Freckles covered her entire face and she wore horn-rimmed glasses that made her look like a grownup.
Georgia was the absolute worst. She was the type who always sat in the front row in class and kissed up to the teacher, Miss Shiram. Once class was over, Georgia was the one whispering to her group of friends and creating vicious gossip. Fancy hated how she pretended to be one thing, when in reality she was another. There wasn’t a Christian bone in her nine-year-old body.
“And she’s not as pretty as she thinks she is,” Georgia added. “Her eyes are too close together.”
They are not! Fancy wanted to scream. Everyone always complimented her on her cornflower blue eyes. Georgia was just jealous. Plain and simple. She was tearing her apart because she could never be Fancy. Not in a million years!
“Yep. And she’s always flirting with all the boys in class. They have such bad taste anyway. She and all of her friends are stuck-up. They think they’re the princesses of Savannah,” Georgia huffed.
Meryl snorted. “Princesses my foot. Morgan Lucas’s mother is a glorified maid.”
Both girls hooted with laughter. The sound of it burned her ears. Fancy fisted her hands at her sides. They were laughing at Morgan’s mother, who worked for Miss Hattie at Savannah House. They didn’t have a clue about anything in this world! She was one of the sweetest, kindest people in this entire world. And she worked hard to support her family. There was no shame in hard work. That’s what Daddy always told her.
“And my Mama said that Fancy’s father is running around with his secretary,” Meryl said in a shocked tone. “Someone saw them at a hotel together out at the interstate.”
All of a sudden, Fancy saw red. How dare they talk about her father and make up scandalous stories about him. How dare they act this way as guests at her party! They were standing in her family’s bathroom being rude and vicious. It was one thing for them to snipe about her looks, but to drag her sweet Daddy in the mud was beyond the pale. Everyone knew that Barrett Tolliver was an exceptional man.
Lord, help me. I know they teach us in Bible class to turn the other cheek, but at this moment all I want to do is confront them. They’re fake and phony and I don’t want them at my house a moment longer. Certain things we cannot abide!
Fancy surged forward and pushed open the door so that it was wide open. Georgia and Meryl gazed at her with stunned expressions. One of them let out a startled squeak.
Fancy placed her hands on her hips and glared at them. “How dare you speak about my Daddy like that! Hasn’t anyone taught either of you girls any manners?”
“We were having a private conversation,” Meryl said, her eyes glittering with anger.
“Yeah,” Georgia chimed in. “And it didn’t involve you.”
Fancy took a step forward. “You’re a guest in my home. Take back what you said about Morgan’s mother and my Daddy. Now!” She raised her fist in the air.
For a moment both girls looked nervous. Meryl bit her lip. Georgia’s lips trembled. Fancy could see that they were wavering.
“Apologize!” she ordered in her most imposing voice. She was trying to sound like Mama and show them that she meant business.
“Never! Your father is a cheat and a liar. That’s what my Mama said,” Meryl yelled. Georgia looked at her with wide eyes. She took a step away from her friend.
Fancy reached out and grabbed a handful of Meryl’s hair. She yanked on it until Meryl squealed with pain. All she could see was a red haze. Suddenly, they were on the floor of the bathroom, tussling. She heard Georgia yelling. “Fight. Fight. Fancy is trying to kill Meryl.”
Round and round they went, fists flailing and finger nails scratching. Fancy knew it was wrong to fight and she had never been involved in one in her whole nine years of life. But at this moment she was fighting for Daddy and Mrs. Lucas. It was about their honor.
“Francine Tolliver! You unhand her this instant.” The shriek of her Mama’s voice penetrated through the fog. She let go of Meryl’s hair, just in time for a sucker kick from her opponent. Fancy let out a howl. Meryl still had her by the wrist.
“Meryl Snyder. Let go of Francine before I throw a bucket of water on you!” Her mother reached down and pulled them apart. She dragged them both to their feet.
“I’m telling my Mama,” Meryl shouted before running off toward the sliding back doors.
“Go on and tell her,” Mama shouted after her. “You’re lucky that you even made the invite list.”
Fancy hung her head and began to sob. She knew that she must look terrible. Meryl had looked a sight! With tousled hair, a ripped party dress and scratches on her face, Meryl truly resembled a cat that had been drug by a junkyard dog. She imagined she couldn’t look much better.
