Church ain't so bad, especially since Pastor Bill brought in the cushioned pews. It was kind of nice how my butt stayed awake, even if my eyes didn't want to. But one glance at Mama's scowl, and I knew better than to check out while we all got our morality medicine for the week.

"...and don't forget, y'all need to bring a dish for the Fourth of July planning party. My Jenny's makin' her sweet cornbread muffins." Pastor Bill gave his wife an adoring look and patted his big belly. "Until then, I'll see each and every one of you next Sunday."

I smiled. The torture was over.

In polite, orderly fashion, we all filed out of the small church that had been around since Papaw first moved here in the 1960s. I did my best to avoid the obligatory handshake with the man who ruined every Sunday morning, but he was quick for a fat guy. "Buenos días, Senora Diaz."

Crap.

Pastor Bill's Appalachian twang hurt my ears. The way he butchered his Spanish, that damn accent making him sound like the hick he was, had me grinding my back teeth.

"Nice sermon, Pastor." Mama didn't understand a lick of Spanish, but she'd never let the good pastor know it. Didn't matter to him we were as southern as every other smelly country bumpkin in Pittman Center.

"Why, thank you." His bloated hand covered hers. "Don't forget the party. I do love me some Mexican food."

Dumbass. We're Puerto Rican.

"I wouldn't miss it for nothing." She slid her hand out of his sweaty grasp, a forced smile on her lips.

We walked down the old cement steps toward the mowed field everyone used as the parking lot, batting at the gnats buzzing around our heads. "When you gonna tell him we ain't Mexican?"

"As soon as you can stay awake for the whole sermon." She adjusted her bra, her boobs on the verge of peeking behind the red chiffon. For a Christian woman, she sure liked to show off her cleavage. I'm sure that was why Pastor Bill made a point to talk to her every week. His watery eyes never got as far as her face.

"I guess never, then."

"Sounds about right."

After a quick wave to a few neighbors, we slammed the doors shut on Papaw's old pickup. She pulled out a Marlboro and pushed in the car lighter. When the thing clicked, she took the time to light her cigarette before pulling onto the dirt road.

I used the couple minute drive to take the stupid braid out of my hair, but when the cab began to fill with smoke, I made sure to gag and cough while rolling down my window.

Mama's reaction never changed. She took a deep drag and blew it out with flair.

"Stop it, woman. I can't breathe. Don't know why you smoke those death sticks."

"Your mamaw smoked for thirty years and nothing ever happened to her."

I rolled my eyes and swiped the smoke away. "Yeah, until that pesky lung cancer snuck up on her. You fixing to rest in the ground beside her?"

She flung the butt outside as we pulled into the driveway of our old farmhouse. "I'll not have you speaking ill about my mama, Macy Mae. She was a good woman."

"Being good don't make her any less dead, does it?" I might sound a bit mean, but the woman died before I was born. To me, she was just a picture on the wall. To my mama, she was a saint. A saint who had a two-pack-a-day habit from what Papaw said. Papaw also said Mama didn't begin to appreciate her mother until the woman died.

"I swear if you weren't seventeen, I'd take you over my knee."

I hopped out of the truck and yelled over my shoulder. "I've been bigger than you since the sixth grade. No way could you get me over your knee."

Compared to her, I looked downright Amazonian. Granted, she kept all the boobs for herself, but at least I got a little of her ass.

"I don't care how big you are, I'm still your mama."

I threw open the screen door with a smile, letting her walk in ahead of me. "Oh, I know you are. I also know who your daddy is, and he ain't going to be happy."

Panic crossed her pretty face, and she reached up to try to cover my mouth. But, yeah, I'm talking gigantic in comparison. All I had to do was stand on my tiptoes, forcing her to jump in the effort to reach my face.

I took a deep breath and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Papaw! Guess what Mama's been doing?"

"You're a terrible, hateful child, Macy Mae. Why I'd–"

"What'd she do, nieta?" Papaw came into the kitchen from the open basement door, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. He wasn't much bigger than Mama was, but when he spoke, we listened. And for the record, he was my favorite person in the whole wide world.

Mama stopped grappling for my mouth and planted her hands on her hips. She might be trying for defiant, but her trembling bottom lip said otherwise. "Imma grown woman, Daddy."

He ignored her and smiled at me. "Nieta?"

I gave him a wink before standing behind him, away from Mama's puny, angry fists. "She's got a pack of cigarettes hiding in the glove box."

"Why you ungrateful–"

"Silencio."

Yup, all it took was one word from Papaw, and she shut up, giving me the stink eye. It was hard taking her serious, seeing as we were only eighteen years apart. Telling on her was like snitching on my sister.

Papaw wiped the rest of his latest project off his hands, and continued, "You remember how it was when your madre died, no? When she was sick?"

"But, Daddy–"

"No, hija. I'll not bury my daughter, too. Go get your stash and bring it to me."

"But–"

"Now, Salina."

With another nasty look at me, she stomped out to the truck.

As soon as the screen door shut behind her, I started to laugh. There ain't nothing like telling on your mama.

Papaw shook his head with a crooked grin. "I love her more than life, but she can be as stubborn as a three-legged mule." He tsked, wagging a slim finger in my face. "And you have got to stop picking on her. She's your mother."

I stifled a few more snickers and wiped the tears leaking from my eyes. "Yes, sir."

But she made it hard, especially when she tossed the half-empty pack on the kitchen table and stomped upstairs. Her slamming bedroom door echoed through the entire house.

Papaw threw the pack away after soaking them under the spigot. He then nodded toward the basement door. "Come on. Let me show you what I've been working on."

Our basement looked like a wildlife conservatory. Glassy-eyed trout hung on the walls, looking down at majestic buck heads and nut-eating gray squirrels. Papaw called these projects Macy funds. A trout would be a Macy book, and a full-sized deer would be a Macy dorm room. Did I mention how much Papaw wanted me to go to college? I guess it was a good thing we had similar goals.

"Look, nieta. We have ourselves a Macy tuition." He pointed at the freestanding black bear, its mouth set in a snarl with its brown, needlepoint nails curled and ready to attack.

"Asombroso, Abuelito!"

Mama might not care to learn Spanish, but I made sure to speak it. Maybe not as good as Papaw would've liked, but at least I tried. The bear was amazing. One of the biggest I'd ever seen in our tiny basement. For the past six months, Papaw had been on contract with Sugarlands Visitors' Center, one of the welcoming centers in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The job gave us a few semesters of books, dorm money, and three semesters of tuition.

"He is, si." His soft brown eyes filled with pride. "It won't be long, nieta, and you'll have the money to go anywhere you want."

I hugged him. If Mama and I didn't have him...thank the Lord we had him. "Te amo."

He patted my back with a chuckle. "I love you, too, mi vida."

The grumbling sounds of four-wheelers rumbled through the screen door as we made our way to the top of the steps. My heart went into overdrive, thumping so hard I could barely breathe. Only a couple people ever came by on their quads, my best friend, Ana, and Jeb, Sevierville High's heartthrob and soon-to-be star wrestler at Tennessee State. Sometimes he'd bring his sister, Rachel.

I smoothed my skirt, wishing I had time to change into something less stupid as I peeked out the door. My heart beat a little faster. All three of them were out there, on their way to the porch.

The flush covering my cheeks burned hot when I gave Papaw a grin. "Looks like I got company."

He raised a brow with a slight smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. "Looks like. How 'bout we celebrate our Macy tuition later. That chocolate cake'll hold a while."

"All right, can't wait." But my mind was already on the trio reaching for the door latch.

Papaw headed toward the living room where we still had a floor-model television. Before he took up his usual spot in his ratty recliner, he turned and said, "Be careful who you give your heart to, nieta."

I shook my head, my face getting hotter. If he only knew how much I understood that warning. "I'll be fine."

He nodded and sat, flicking on the loud noises of Nascar.

"Why, Macy, don't you look all sweet and precious? Just like a porcelain doll!" Ana came through the door in her usual cowboy hat and raggedy jeans. She had to be the prettiest tomboy in all of Tennessee, but no sense telling her that. She didn't care about looks as much as she cared about bull riding and the future bull rider set to be her husband. Of course, she had yet to find the bull rider of her dreams, but that didn't get her down. He was out there, she'd say, on the circuit just waiting to meet her. I sure hoped she found him. Maybe then she'd stop meddling in my love life.

"I didn't have time to change." I tugged the ends of my hair, frizzy from the humidity, and gave a shy look behind her toward Jeb and Rachel.

Ana's blond curls bounced under that gawd-awful hat as she moved to sling an arm around my shoulders. "Well, then you best be getting on some appropriate attire, 'cause we're fixing to hang out by the river all day." She gave the other two a wink. "Ain't that right, y'all?"

Face still burning, trying to act as cool and laidback as my friend, I shrugged and looked at Rachel. "You going, too?"

She smiled, her overbite hardly noticeable after three years in braces. "I'm being forced to by my big ape of a brother." She nudged Jeb, who kept his eyes on me the entire time. "He promised to take me into Sevierville on Friday if I hung out with y'all today."

I cleared my throat, hoping I didn't sound as awkward as I felt. "What's doing there on Friday?"

"Poetry reading. Y'all should come with." She put her hands on her hips and held up her dainty chin. "The theme is the feminine mystique."

Ana and Jeb rolled their eyes, while I tried hard not to nod too fast. "Yeah, I'll go."

Rachel beamed. "I'd like that."

"Uh, hey, on second thought, maybe I'll skip the movie, tag along. I could add some male mystique." Jeb nodded in that way I'm sure he thought made him look sexy. He did have the looks, with all that blond hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. His sister had the same eyes...but bluer. So much bluer, like I could drown in them kind of blue.

Ana snorted, bringing my mind back into the kitchen.

My face grew hotter as I averted my eyes to focus on my white heels. "Sounds like a date, then."

"I think it does," Jeb said.

"All right, all right. Why don't you two go round up a few others? Macy and I will head over as soon as she changes." Ana shoved me toward the stairs, not waiting for a reply.

"So, y'all will be along soon, right?" Jeb's deep voice followed, a hint of panic making it sound higher than usual.

"Yes, yes, just go on, now." Ana waved him off with a laugh, and whispered, "I swear that boy can't be more obvious."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, sure you don't." Ana leaned closer. "When you gonna break his heart and tell him you like his sister?"