Death by Chocolate

call her that, because of television, you know.
My mommy calls her a bitch.”
    Savannah cringed. After her own Granny
Reid’s strict Southern upbringing, she couldn’t get used to a child cursing...
or being cursed around.
    “I’m sorry,” was all she could think
to reply.
    “Yeah, me too. I like my grandma okay...
except for when she drinks booze and smells bad and talks bad. Then she’s no
fun to be around.”
    Glancing across the lawns to the
mansion, which was now mostly dark except for the kitchen lights, Savannah
said, “Like tonight?”
    Gilly sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. I
went down to visit her, but she was already, you know, weird. She told me to
get lost. She doesn’t usually do that. Sometimes she lets me watch her cook.
I’m the only one who can.”
    So much for gleaning any chocolate
secrets, Savannah thought. “Do you live in the mansion with your parents?”
    “No. I live in the gatekeeper’s
cottage with my mom. Her name is Louise. I never saw my daddy. Mommy says he
was rich and very, very handsome, but she didn’t want to marry him, ’cause she
didn’t really like him that much. She says I’m ill’jitmutt. And the kids at
school say I’m a bastard.”
    Again, Savannah’s heart
ached.... and her fingers itched to wrap themselves around any mother’s throat
who would say something like that to a child.
    “Those are ugly words for
such a pretty girl,” she said softly as she reached over to brush Gilly’s long,
stringy hair out of her eyes. The child was in great need of a hairbrushing, a
hug, and a gentler, healthier environment. “My daddy wasn’t around much when I
was a kid, either,” Savannah said. “But I had other people who loved me. I’ll
bet you do, too.”
    Gilly thought for a moment,
then nodded. “Yeap. Marie likes me and Sydney, too.”
    “Who’s Sydney?”
    “He works for my grandma.
Drives her to Los Angeles and stuff. And he lets me help him wash her big,
black car sometimes. And my grandma loves me.... when she’s not... you know...
and my mommy does. Mommy’s just got really bad nerves because of Grandma being
such a bad mom to her when she was a kid. Mommy has to take a lot of nerve
pills, or she gets all mixed up and sad and mad and stuff, and sometimes she
has to go away... you know... for a rest.”
    “A rest, hmmm.” Savannah
was fairly sure Mom wasn’t checking into the local Motel 6 for her “rests.”
Rehab clinics, maybe, for popping all those “nerve” pills? “Where do you live
when your mom’s away... resting?”
    “With Grandma or Grandpa.
He loves me, too, but he doesn’t come around here anymore, ‘cause Grandma said
if he did, she’d call the cops and get his sorry butt arrested. They’re
divorced.”
    Savannah jotted that one
down in her mental notebook, along with the other information she had gleaned
in this small but child-candid conversation. Ten minutes spent talking to a
pure soul with no guilty secrets could be more informative than hours
interrogating a hardened street criminal.
    Savannah glanced around at
the dark, shadowed areas of the lawns and listened to a pack of coyotes yipping
in the distant hills. Lady Eleanor’s estate struck her as more spooky than
romantic at night, despite its Victorian elegance.
    “Do you usually hang around
outside this late?” she asked the girl, who had taken the tissue out of her
pocket and was dabbing at her eyes again.
    “It’s not that late,” she
replied with a sniff.
    Savannah glanced at her
watch. “Actually, it’s almost eleven-thirty. That’s pretty late on a school
night. You do go to school, right?”
    “Yeah, I’m in first grade.
But if I don’t want to go tomorrow morning, I’ll just tell Mommy that my
stomach hurts and she’ll let me stay home. Besides, Mommy’s already asleep. She
doesn’t care if I stay up and run around, as long as I don’t wake her up when I
come in.” Savannah reached over and tweaked the girl’s bangs. “Well, I’ll tell
you what I think... and I had eight little brothers and sisters, so I know a
lot about kids and bedtimes. I think you’re still growing, and in order to grow
big and strong, you have to sleep. Because that’s when it happens—the growing,
that is.”
    Standing, Savannah took
Gilly’s hand and pulled her to her feet. The child looked up at her, impressed
by her height. “Looks like you got lots of sleep. You’re taller than my mommy
and Grandma. You’re as big as Sydney!”
    “That’s right. And