Katy’s mama, Shayna, was staring at me with her mouth hanging wide open. She blinked a few times and then closed her mouth without saying a word.
“Will you sing another song?” Katy asked.
“Sure. What’s your favorite one?”
“I love all of them. You choose.”
“Well, Finn likes a song called “Goober Peas”—I think baby Riley would like it too.” Finn just shook his head, and I tried not to laugh. He was such a grouch. I launched into an exuberant version of “Goober Peas” which the baby did indeed enjoy, kicking her chubby legs in her car seat, but which had Finn wincing.
“There’s a song my daddy used to sing called “Down in the Valley.” It’s kind of a sad one, but Riley looks a little sleepy. Maybe I can sing her to sleep, whaddaya think?” Shayna looked like she was ready to keel over too, and maybe if the baby slept, she would get a much-needed nap.
“Okay.” Katy smiled, nodding.
“Down in the valley, valley so low
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, love, hear the wind blow
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow”
“Roses love sunshine, violets love dew
Angels in heaven know I love you
Know I love you, love, know I love you
Angels in heaven know I love you.”
I had to stop suddenly, the words getting to me. Katy had pulled off her sock monkey cap and laid her head down on her mother’s lap. Her thin neck looked scarcely big enough to hold up her bare head, and her mama stroked the smooth skin as I sang. There was a time Minnie had looked just like Katy, bald head and all, and the sight of Katy’s little hairless head was almost more than I could bear.
Finn glanced at me, his gaze sharp, not missing much, I was sure, and I played a few measures on the guitar, trying to control the emotion that had caught me off guard. It was the line about angels in heaven, I supposed. I winked at Finn, pretending I was just fine, and sang a different verse that wouldn’t make me think of Minnie.
“Write me a letter, send it by mail
Send it in care of the Birmingham jail
Birmingham jail, love, Birmingham jail
Send it in care of the Birmingham jail.”
“Nice, Bonnie Rae,” he said under his breath. I winked again and blew him a little kiss to let him know I was just teasing him. I could have changed the words to Norfolk Penitentiary, but it had too many syllables and didn’t rhyme with mail.
“He’s in jail?” Katy asked.
I stopped playing in surprise. “Who?”
“The guy in the song,” Katy answered. “He’s in jail, and she’s an angel in heaven?”
“No. I mean, yeah. He’s in jail, but she’s not an angel . . . she’s just a girl he loves, and he wishes she would love him back,” I said.
“And write him letters?” Katy asked.
“Yep. Write him letters while he’s in the penitentiary,” I answered cheerfully.
Finn sighed the sigh of a man with little patience left. I did my best not to laugh.
“There’s another verse too, Katy. You’ll like this one. It’s about a castle.
Build me a castle, forty feet high
So I can see her as she rides by
As she rides by, dear, as she rides by
So I can see her as she rides by.”
“It’s Rapunzel!” Katy whispered and tried to sit up from her mother’s lap.
Shayna’s eyes were getting heavy, and the little girl slid out from under her mother’s arm and scooted up until she was leaning between the front seats, completely tuned in to the song that was about another apparent favorite. I didn’t point out that the man was the one in the castle and the girl was riding by.
“It’s kind of like you, Bonnie. You cut off your long hair too. Just like Rapunzel.”
“That’s right, Katy. That’s because a mean old witch locked me up at Tower Records, and I had to wait for my boyfriend to get out of jail and come rescue me.”
“What the fu—heck are you talking about?” Finn asked, amending his curse at the last minute for the sake of the little girl who was hanging on every word.
A little snort escaped out of my nose at the incredulous look on his face, and Katy giggled.
“Bonnie Rae,” Finn choked out, finally laughing, “can we please change the subject?”
“Well. Singing is what I do best. Why don’t you entertain for a minute, Clyde?”
“What are you good at, Clyde?” Katy asked sweetly.
“Finn’s good at math,” I answered for him when he stayed silent.
“Oh, yeah? What’s twenty times twenty” Katy challenged.
“Four hundred,” Finn answered. “But that one wasn’t very hard. I bet you knew that one too.”
“Ask him one you don’t know. Something really hard,” I instructed.
“What’s six hundred and ninety . . . five,” Katy scrunched up her nose trying to make the number as complicated as she could. “Times four hundred and . . . fifty-two?”
Finn hardly stopped to think. “Three hundred fourteen thousand, one hundred forty.”
Katy and I both stared. I’m sure my face resembled Shayna’s stunned expression of not too long ago. I should have known.
Katy was immediately digging in her mother’s purse, rifling through wadded-up receipts and hair bands until she pulled out a dinky, red calculator that looked as if it had come out of a kid’s meal. She asked Finn several more problems, checking his answers on the little device. One time she crowed that he was wrong, only to realize she’d entered the numbers incorrectly.