Holly Jean and the Box in Granny's Attic. Bonnie Compton Hanson

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Holly Jean and the Box in Granny's Attic - Bonnie Compton Hanson Holly Jean

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And everyone clapped and cheered!

      A few minutes later, the truck headed up the hill. Granny Nanny sat in the cab with Uncle Tom and all the food she’d been preparing for the big party. Holly Jean squeezed in the open back of the truck between a pretty black-haired young woman with twin black-haired boys, another young woman with a little girl and a baby, some elderly men and women she didn’t remember meeting, Holly Jean’s Aunt Tillie, and (oh, no!) Bob Anderson’s catty granddaughter, Tootsie! Not to mention all the boxes and baskets of food they’d all brought!

      Fortunately, Aunt Tillie had covered the truck bed with a thick old quilt, so their dress-up clothes and food could stay clean.

      “Howdy, Miss Red Hair!” chimed one of the boys. “Ain’t never seed you afore. What they call you?”

      She grinned. “Holly Jean. What’s your name?”

      “Jim and,” pointing to his brother, “him’s Tim. Jim and Tim McCollough. That’s our ma. Ain’t she purty?”

      Their mother blushed. “Now, boys!” She reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Holly Jean. Ain’t never seen you around these parts before. I’m Minnie McCollough. We’re new here. My boys will be fourth-graders in Miss Linda’s school. My husband, Freddie, is in the Army. Sure be glad when he’s back home with us.”

      “And I’m Steve Mitchell,” offered one of the older men. “Where you all from, gal?” he asked Holly Jean.

      Tootsie gave a hard laugh. “Well, you can sure tell she ain’t from around here, can’t you, Mr. Steve? That’s why I call her ‘Cincinnati Catty.’ She ain’t got no nice drawl a-tall, like us folks got here in God’s country.”

      Now Holly Jean blushed. Come on, Tootsie, why can’t you ever say anything nice?

      But the elderly gentleman frowned. “Now, that weren’t very kind, Miss Tootsie.” Patting Holly Jean on the hand, “Right pleased to meet you, dear. I understand you’re Joe Roberts’ gal. We’re all praying for your pa, child, and for all the rest of them brave servicemen like Miss Minnie’s husband and Miss Tillie’s son. Okay?”

      She smiled back. “Thanks, Mr. Mitchell. I appreciate that.”

      Settling into her spot, Holly Jean enjoyed the truck ride up the mountain. Years before, little Moon Dunn’s father had gone through this forest, chopping down tree after tree for his family’s lumber business. Since then, Nature had filled in most of the bare spots. Riding in the shade of the towering pines was a relief from the blazing sun.

      But soon the ride up Razorback Ridge became rough. After all, years had passed since anyone had worked on the dirt-and-rock road that twisted up through the forest. On some bends, Holly Jean was sure the truck was going to just topple over and slide down the hillside—along with all of them and all that food!

      But they did make it to the top. And what a view! The forest was left behind, replaced with lush rolling, meadows, cornfields, and orchards. To their left, one small, tree-shaded cabin stood in the middle of a field. But everyone’s eyes immediately turned to the imposing two-story home on their right. Built plantation-style with tall, stately columns, Max Morgan’s home had been newly painted a sparkling white. Long porches stretched across the front of the house both downstairs and up.

      “My brother Andy and Grandpa Bob helped Mr. Max repaint it this week,” Tootsie announced to everyone, as they made it down from the back of the truck. “Andy and Grandpa are both still here, helping the Morgans get ready for the party. Annie Sue’s here too, helping out in the kitchen.”

      Holly Jean tried to shake the wrinkles out of her new skirt. Oh, really? That dumb blonde, Annie Sue Anderson, Cousin Willie’s so gaga over? The one who’s breaking his heart because she stopped writing to him? What did she know about cooking—or anything else?

      Helping Granny Nanny carry the food they’d brought, Holly Jean headed over to some rough, quickly nailed-together, picnic tables. Spread out on one side of the house under the shade of a huge apple tree, they already seemed to be filled with food. Where in the world would all these additional bowls and pots go?

      But a beaming and beautiful Daisy and a surprisingly efficient Annie Sue quickly took care of everything.

      Holly Jean felt ashamed of herself. Her thoughts about Tootsie’s 16-year-old sister had been just as catty as Tootsie’s remarks about Holly Jean! Sorry, God; please help me watch my tongue today. And please make this the best homecoming party possible for Moon’s father, after all these long, lonely years.

      Max Morgan’s dogs seemed to be everywhere, greeting everyone. Tim gave one a good petting, then pointed. “Hey, who’s that kid?” he asked.

      His brother shook his head. “Dunno. Ain’t never seed him before.”

      Holly Jean smiled. “That’s Moon Dunn,” she explained. “His father’s the one we’re having this party for. Moon’ll be real glad to get to know you, ’cause he’ll be going to school with you this fall.”

      Jim nodded. “Our pa’s been away a long time too, Miss Red Hair.” Then he called, “Hey, Moon, wait up!”

      Moon grinned and ran over to them. “Boys!” he shouted. “Yea! Boys! Just like the ones I met at the pie social! Real boys who can play ball with me and be my friends. Oh, things is getting better and better all the time!”

      For most of Moon’s life, he’d been isolated up there on the mountaintop. In fact, he had never seen another child till he met Holly Jean. Just wait till Moon started school this fall—he’d have lots of friends to play with!

      Moon gave everyone a hug. “Oh, Miss Holly Jean, ain’t this the very best day in my whole life? Ma even got me all dolled up to see Pa—new shirt, new overalls, new hair on top. Don’t rightly recognize myself!”

      Neither did she, for Daisy had cut Moon’s almost-white hair for the very first time in his whole life! But his grin was as bright as ever.

      “Where’s your pa?” Jim asked. “We want to meet him!”

      “Ain’t here yet. Miss Linda, the teacher, and Mr. Pete Curtiss is picking him up in Mr. Pete’s station wagon and bringing him here. Ain’t never seen a station wagon before. And ain’t seen my pa since I was knee-high to a tadpole, I reckon. Can hardly wait till they all git here! You fellows want to watch for them with me upstairs on the lookout porch?”

      “Yeah!”

      Holly Jean watched the three boys scamper off. Well, if Miss Linda—the teacher at the Morgan Mills one-room school—was coming from Willow Bend, maybe her 16-year-old brother Tad would be there too! Maybe he’d even play the piano for everyone—if the Morgans had a piano, of course. Suddenly Holly Jean wished she’d brought her flute.

      Then she remembered Aunt Kate. Did her great-aunt and Pastor Jake make it here safely?

      With flying colors! In fact, half the men today were now gathered around the old carriage, admiring it and its now-unhitched horses. Pastor Jake seemed rather embarrassed to have so much attention. But Aunt Kate was gobbling it up, the way people usually gobbled up her delicious pies!

      Then—

      “Here they come!” shouted the three boys from their perch high up on the second floor porch.

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