The Lady's Slipper. Emma Carlson Berne

the tree branches, Melody could just see the silvery walls of the conservatory rising into the sky.

      “Oh, this is so pretty,” she breathed. “I’ve never been back here.”

      “Are we even supposed to be going this way?” Val asked from just ahead of her. “There’s no path or anything.”

      “It’s okay!” Leah called from ahead. “It’s just a shortcut.”

      The girls walked single file, pushing through the tall dry grasses left from last year. A yellow and black butterfly lit on a shrub covered with purple flowers, and Melody slowed to inspect its intricately patterned wings opening and closing. She bent down so that her eyes were level with the insect. Its two black antennae waved delicately. Melody caught her breath as the butterfly’s black tongue, slender as a hair, unrolled to taste the center of one of the purple flowers.

      “Val,” Melody murmured. “Look at this.”

      But her cousin did not answer. Melody raised her head. She was alone. Val must have thought Melody was still behind her or she wouldn’t have gone ahead.

      Melody looked around. The corridor of flowers was deserted. “Val!” she called. “Leah!” But there was no answer.

      Melody hurried through the shrubs and flowers, but whatever map Leah was following in her head was invisible to her. Melody followed a faint trail that she thought would lead to the shelters and the river, but she found herself wandering in an apple orchard, frosted thickly with fragrant white blossoms. Then abruptly, the trees cleared, and the conservatory loomed in front of her.

      “Definitely not the right way,” Melody murmured to herself. But she knew that if she went around to the front entrance, she could follow the sidewalk back to the park shelters. She trotted across the expanse of lawn and toward the side of the huge glass building. Leah and Val were still nowhere in sight, but a man stood bent over by a side door in front of her. The door was shut, and he appeared to be inspecting the doorknob. The air was very still.

      “I think the entrance is around the front,” Melody called out.

      The man straightened up. He was nicely dressed in a brown suit. His red hair was brushed back under a tan fedora. His face was smooth and bland. “Thank you, little girl,” he said quietly. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn.” He walked off around the side of the building.

      Melody squinted at the door the man had been looking at. The shiny metal handle was smudged with fingerprints as if he had been trying to open the door.

      Melody walked around to the front of the building, the same way the man had gone. When she reached the front sidewalk, Val and Leah were waiting for her, waving. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he hadn’t really been looking for the front entrance.

       “Hurry up, Melody!” Val looked annoyed, but also slightly worried.

      “We thought you got lost,” said Leah.

      “Sorry,” said Melody. “Come on, let’s get back to the picnic.” She sighed as they hurried along the walk. “I love the conservatory.”

      “Me too!” Leah agreed. “Have you seen the giant ferns?”

      “Yes!” Melody remembered the giant, towering fronds.

      “The birds-of-paradise are my favorite.” Leah’s face was lit up. “Blue—”

      “And orange!” Melody broke in. “I love them, too! My grandpa had one in his flower shop once—remember, Val?”

      “Um…” Val looked blank. “Was that the little tree thing he had?”

      “No, that was a rosebush in a pot!” Melody laughed. She turned back to Leah. “And did you know there are orchids there? There’s a whole orchid room. I haven’t seen it, but I bet it’s beautiful.”

      “Yeah!” Leah agreed. “They’re gorgeous, and so many different kinds—moth orchids and boat orchids and cattleyas and vandas—”

      “Wow!” Melody was impressed. “You really know about orchids! I know more about plants that grow around here. I have a book that has orchids in it, but I’ve never seen one in real life before.” Melody’s well-worn copy of Plants of the World had been on her bedside table since Poppa had given it to her three years ago, and she liked looking at the orchid pictures. Some of the blossoms looked like exotic spotted butterflies, others like fancy purses.

      “Orchids are so neat,” Leah said, enthusiasm bubbling in her voice. “There’s a chocolate orchid that smells just like chocolate, and there’s one called the white egret orchid. It’s my favorite. It looks like a bird spreading its wings. And the monkey orchid actually looks like there is a tiny monkey face in the middle of the flower.”

       “And some of them are very rare, right? That’s what my book says.”

      Leah paused. “Yeah. And the rare ones can be worth a lot of money. Not many people know that.” She shot Melody a strange glance and walked a little faster. Her cheeks were red.

      Melody started to ask Leah what was wrong, but she had a sudden feeling Leah didn’t want her to. Anyway, they were almost back to the picnic shelter.

      chapter 2

      Flowers and Family

      “DINNER, MY CHICKS!” Melody’s grandmother, Big Momma, called as she carried a big dish of pot roast from the kitchen. “Melody, will you put the napkins out?” Big Momma wasn’t very big at all, but the whole family called her that as a way of showing respect for the oldest mother in the family.

      Melody distributed paper napkins at each place, while her older sister Lila filled the water glasses. Melody’s family always had Sunday dinner together at Big Momma’s after church, and it was Melody’s favorite time of the whole week. She loved the sight of her family’s faces gathered around the table.

      “Here, Mama, let me do that,” said Melody’s mother. Tying a yellow-checked apron over her navy blue church dress, she took the heavy dish from Big Momma, set it down on a trivet, and began spooning potatoes, onions, and carrots into a big bowl beside it. “Melody, call your daddy, will you?”

      Melody opened the screen door off the kitchen and stepped outside. Daddy was out there with his head under the hood of the Ford, tinkering. “Daddy, dinner,” Melody called.

      Her father wiped his hands on a rag and draped his arm around Melody’s shoulders as he came up the steps. “Let’s get some of that pot roast. I’ve been smelling it for the last half hour.”

      “Where’s Poppa?” Melody asked.

      “Right here!” Melody’s grandfather’s voice rang from the doorway as he came in carrying a big cardboard box.

      “Come get your dinner, Frank,” Big Momma fussed. “Your meat is getting cold.”

      “I just picked these beauties up from my supplier. Didn’t have time to drop them at the shop yet.” Poppa set the box down on the coffee table. Melody could see it was full of small potted plants with ruffly, deep pink flowers.

      Mommy, Daddy, Lila, Big Momma, Poppa, and Melody gathered around the table. The gathering was smaller than usual. Her oldest sister, Yvonne, was away at college, and her big brother, Dwayne, was touring with his Motown group, The Three Ravens. Val’s family was also missing the Sunday dinner. Aunt Tish was repainting her salon and needed Val and Charles to help so she could be open the next day.

      “Say grace, will you, baby?” Big Momma asked Melody.

      Melody closed her eyes. “By Thy hands must we be fed. Give us, Lord, our daily bread.” She let the familiar words linger on the air.

      “Are those begonias, Poppa?” Melody asked her grandfather as the gravy boat, bowls of corn and peas, and basket of rolls began making their way around the table.

      “They are!” Poppa