“You need to drink your malt, Grandma,” Darcy insisted, gently putting the straw between the pinched lips. Grandma sucked the malt slowly. “Grandma, nobody likes me at school,” Darcy said. She did not expect any response. But there was a strange comfort in telling Grandma anyway. “Everybody laughs at me. It’s because I’m shy and maybe stuck-up, too, I guess. But I don’t mean to be. Stuck-up, I mean. Maybe I’m weird. I could be weird, I guess. I could be like Aunt Charlotte . . . ” Tears rolled down Darcy’s cheeks. Her heart ached with loneliness. There was nobody to talk to anymore, nobody who had time to listen, nobody who understood.

Grandma blinked and pushed the straw away. Her eyes brightened as they did now and then. “You are a wonderful girl. Everybody knows that,” Grandma said in an almost normal voice. It happened like that sometimes. It was like being in the middle of a dark storm and having the clouds part, revealing a patch of clear, sunlit blue. For just a few precious minutes, Grandma was brighteyed and saying normal things.

“Oh, Grandma, I’m so lonely,” Darcy cried, pressing her head against Grandma’s small shoulder.

“You were such a beautiful baby,” Grandma said, stroking her hair. “ ‘That one is going to shine like the morning star. ’ That’s what I told your Mama. ‘That child is going to shine like the morning star. ’ Tell me, Angelcake, is your daddy home yet?”

Darcy straightened. “Not yet. ” Her heart pounded so hard, she could feel it thumping in her chest. Darcy’s father had not been home in five years.

“Well, tell him to see me when he gets home. I want him to buy you that blue dress you liked in the store window. That’s for you, Angelcake. Tell him I’ve got money. My social security came, you know. I have money for the blue dress,” Grandma said, her eyes slipping shut.

Just then, Darcy heard the apartment door slam. Jamee had come home. Now she stood in the hall, her hands belligerently on her hips. “Are you talking to Grandma again?” Jamee demanded.

“She was talking like normal,” Darcy said. “Sometimes she does. You know she does. ”

“That is so stupid,” Jamee snapped. “She never says anything right anymore. Not anything!” Jamee’s voice trembled.

Darcy got up quickly and set down the can of malted milk. She ran to Jamee and put her arms around her sister. “Jamee, I know you’re hurting too. ”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Jamee protested, but Darcy hugged her more tightly, and in a few seconds Jamee was crying. “She was the best thing in this stupid house,” Jamee cried. “Why’d she have to go?”

“She didn’t go,” Darcy said. “Not really. ”