Free Discovering by Wendy Corsi Staub

making dire predictions— involving Calla— between Candyland moves and story time.
    Calla arrives home to find her grandmother in the front yard.
    No surprise there.
    In Lily Dale, when the weather turns nice, people rush outside to enjoy it from their porches, yards, and gardens.
    Odelia—who frequently says her skin is fairer than a baby’s keister—is on her knees in a flowerbed, wearing a big, floppy Little House on the Prairie –style sunbonnet, enormous aviator sunglasses, and a patch of protective white zinc on her nose.
    “Calla! Is it three thirty already? How was school?”
    “Same as usual.”Calla dumps her heavy backpack on the steps, then sinks down beside it. She plops her chin in her hands and wonders whether to tell her grandmother about the Florida investigators talking to Patsy.
    For all she knows, Odelia has already heard.
    If she hasn’t, she will soon enough. No need to bring it up now.
    “Same as usual,”Odelia echoes. “Sounds like that’s a bad thing?”
    “Actually, it isn’t.”On the contrary, it was comforting to go through a predictable school day after a weekend that was anything but.
    “Then why do you look so depressed?”
    “Because I stink at math, and I had it last period. Mr. Bombeck hates me.”
    “I’m sure he doesn’t.”
    “Oh, I’m sure he does. He wasn’t exactly loving when he handed back my test.”She sighs and leans both elbows back against the top step, legs outstretched to the bottom. “What are you doing, Gammy?”
    “Dividing my hostas. Want to help?”
    “Dividing?”She groans. “No more math today. Sorry.”
    Odelia laughs. “It can’t be that bad.”
    “I got a D.”
    “Minus?”
    “No. Just a D.”
    “Look on the bright side. That’s better than a D minus. Or an F.”Her grandmother hacks away at a stubborn root.
    “Somehow, I don’t think the college admissions boards are going to see it that way. My father won’t, either. I guess I’d better go tell him.”She hoists herself off the step, picks up her backpack, and starts to head inside.
    “Calla? If you’re going to go tell your father anything right now, you’re going to need a boat.”
    “Why? Where is he?”
    “Out on the lake.”She gestures vaguely at the patch of blue at the end of the road.
    “What?”
    “He’s fishing . . .”
    “He doesn’t fish!”
    “. . . with Ramona.”Odelia looks her squarely in the eye as if to ask, What do you think about that? “They took a picnic lunch and a lot of bait.”
    “Oh. Well, that’s nice.”
    “Mmm-hmm.”Her grandmother continues to watch her.
    “What, Gammy?”
    “Are you okay with . . .”She sweeps a dirty gardening glove–covered hand toward the Taggarts’ house, “all of this?”
    “You mean Dad sleeping in their guest room?” And the whole town buzzing about it?
    “That. And him maybe . . . starting to move on.”
    “Are you ?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be?”
    “I don’t know . . . . She was your daughter.”
    “She was your mother. And his wife.”Gammy shrugs. “I’m fine with it. He’s gone through hell. He’s in a better place than he has been in a long, long time.”
    “I know . . . . It’s been three months.”
    “Since your mother died.”
    “What else would I be talking about?”
    Her grandmother shakes her head and goes back to chopping the hosta’s root.
    “Gammy . . . did something happen to my father before my mother died?”
    “You tell me.”
    She knows, Calla realizes. She knows what Mom did. To Dad. With Darrin .
    “You mean . . . the affair?”
    Her grandmother goes still, then sets aside her trowel and looks up at her. “So I was right.”
    “You mean you didn’t know for sure?”
    She shakes her head. “My guides were showing me things . . . but I guess I didn’t want to believe them.”
    “What did they show you?”Calla asks, still not certain her grandmother knows it was Darrin.
    “The details aren’t important.”
    “Did they show you who my mother was