Free Just Claire by Jean Ann Williams

anymore of him, or his sighing fits.” She copied Liam, sighing with exaggeration.
    Laughing, Belinda coughed. Milk shot across the table.
    Lolly pointed at the streams of white flowing from Belinda’s nose. “Yucky.”
    Milk splattered across the table in front of Belinda. ClaireLee wrinkled her nose. Disgusting. She gave Belinda her napkin. “Here you go.”
    The first-through-third-grade teacher Mrs. White stood before them. “Quiet, girls. You’re too noisy.”
    Belinda wiped her face and pushed the napkin around on the milk. “Sorry.”
    When Mrs. White left, Kaye Tyner spoke from where she sat a table behind them. “You silly girls, pipe it down.”
    â€œJust ignore her, Belinda whispered.
    Insides churning, ClaireLee bristled. “She can’t bother me.”
    â€œWhat’s funny, ClaireLee?” Valerie Shaffer asked.
    Facing Valerie, and with the Lavender Girls watching her, ClaireLee said, “We’re talking about my brother. You know how boys can be.”
    Opening her mouth, Kaye sniffed. “I’m an only child, so do tell.”
    She wanted to complain about her brother to anyone who would listen, but Wendy shook her head.
    Considering it a signal from Wendy, ClaireLee waved Kaye off. “It’s nothing.”
    Wrinkling her nose, Kaye sneered, and the Lavender Girls went back to their meals.
    â€œBoy-howdy, ClaireLee, you and your brother almost became the scuttlebutt of the school.”
    â€œScuttle what?”
    Belinda shaped her fingers like a duck’s bill, flapping them. “Ya know, gossip.”
    Face warming at her near mistake, ClaireLee squirmed. “Did you see Wendy shake her head?”
    â€œDon’t trust her. She and Kaye are downright ornery. Believe me, ClaireLee, I know about mean people.”
    Is this going to be another story? “Why?”
    â€œMy ma gave Grandma and me no peace. It’s better with her gone.”
    The comment jarred ClaireLee, and she reeled backward. “Gone?”
    â€œYa know, as in ‘left us.’”
    Gnawing on a fingernail, ClaireLee couldn’t believe it. She never knew anyone before who didn’t have a father and an absent mother. Belinda is an orphan. She moved closer to Belinda, shoulder to shoulder, and ClaireLee’s heart twinged with remorse.

8
    THE SAINTS GO MARCHING
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    O n the fourth day after Mama left, ClaireLee aimed her saddle shoe at a walnut-sized rock. She kicked. It flew across Pit Street, the only paved road in town. For too long, she missed Mama’s snacks, hugs, and ‘How did your day go?’ “If Mama’s still gone,” she said to Lolly, “at least Laddie will be happy to see me.”
    As they walked home from school on the frozen shoulder, her brothers ran ahead and stomped iced puddles to smithereens. Grayson batted at empty space between him and Liam. “Stop it. You hurt me.”
    â€œWaah, waah.” Liam made fists and boxed the air. “You’re Mama’s baby.”
    Grayson ran back to ClaireLee and grabbed her hand. She hurried over to Liam and said, “What do you think you’re doing, mister?”
    Snarling, Liam scrunched his face. “Grayson shrunk to a baby holding your hand.”
    â€œAm not.” Grayson puckered his lips. “You kicked pokey ice on me.”
    In front of Holcomb’s Market with its tall false front, a voice said, “He is too a baby.”
    ClaireLee gripped onto Lolly’s hand, when Kaye said to Valerie, “Don’t you think he’s a crybaby?”
    Not again.
    Valerie’s chin dipped as though she was going to nod. She stopped.
    Liam jerked his head with the Ugly Look, and his hands made fists. “You girls mind your own bees-wax.”
    â€œC’mon, I’m hungry.” Knowing full well Liam wouldn’t back down, ClaireLee said to her siblings, “Aren’t you?” She twitched her nose at