Evvie at Sixteen

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  “Mysteries,” the boy said. “And political philosophy. I like that about her. The political stuff I mean. I like it when people read books that seem out of character for them.”

  “She sent me to get mysteries,” Evvie said.

  “All right,” the boy said. “We got a new shipment in on Friday. There should be something here Miss Winslow will enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” Evvie said. “I’m going to read them out loud to her, so try to pick some I’d enjoy, too.”

  “I’ll do my best,” the boy said. “Are you visiting the Bakers? I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “I’m visiting Miss Winslow,” Evvie replied. “She’s my great-aunt. Does it make a difference, who I’m visiting?”

  “Probably not,” the boy said. “If you were visiting the Bakers, I wouldn’t ask you out, either, because they don’t care for my grandparents. My grandparents own this store. I live with them in the summers.”

  “But I’m not staying with the Bakers,” Evvie said. “I’m staying with Aunt Grace. How does she feel about your grandparents?”

  “She’s a summer person,” the boy replied. “Summer people have no feelings about the year-rounders. Except occasional irritation over service. But I can’t ask you out if you’re a summer person. There are rules about that sort of thing. No fraternizing with the natives.”

  Evvie laughed. “Well, I’m not a summer person or a year-rounder,” she said. “I’m just a guest. So you’re going to have to come up with a whole new excuse not to ask me out.”

  “I don’t know your name,” the boy said. “I can’t ask you out if I don’t know your name.”

  “Evvie Sebastian,” Evvie replied. “What’s your name?”

  “Sam Steinmetz,” he said. “My grandparents are the town’s token Jews. That’s why they own the bookstore. Eastgate likes stereotyping. If we were Italian, we’d own the pizza parlor.”

  “Is there a pizza parlor?” Evvie asked.

  Sam nodded. “I thought we could have lunch there,” he said. “I’m minding the store until my grandparents get back, but I’ll be free for lunch. Are you?”

  “No,” Evvie said. “I mean, I don’t know. I’m kind of baby-sitting Aunt Grace this summer because she injured her foot, and I don’t know how much time I’m supposed to spend with her.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Sam said. “I’ll work up a big order of books for her, and then I’ll drive them over at lunchtime. We can ask her then if she’d mind your going out with me.”

  “That’s not the issue, is it?” Evvie said.

  Sam laughed. “Welcome to Eastgate,” he said. “You’ll learn the issues here soon enough.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Hello, Mrs. Baker,” Sam Steinmetz said later that day. “Is Miss Winslow in?”

  “Where would she be with her foot in a cast?” Mrs. Baker replied. “Out running the Boston Marathon?”

  Sam laughed. “Is Miss Winslow receiving, then,” he asked. “I’ve brought an order of books for her.”

  “I’ll go see,” Mrs. Baker said, and she turned away from the door, leaving Sam standing outside.

  “You’re right,” Evvie said, ushering him in. “She doesn’t like you.”

  “My grandparents are newcomers,” Sam said. “They only moved to Eastgate twenty years ago. It takes people like the Bakers a while to adjust to new faces.”

  “Mrs. Baker adjusted to mine fast enough,” Evvie declared. “She’s been very pleasant to me.”

  “You’re her boss’s niece,” Sam pointed out. “How would you expect her to act?”

  “Courteously,” Evvie said. “Is there any other reason why Mrs. Baker doesn’t like your family?”

  “There are always reasons to dislike people,” Sam said. “This is a nice house.”

  “I’m staying in my mother’s old room,” Evvie told him. “It has a view of the ocean. I can’t get over it. Would you like to see?”

  Sam laughed. “Let’s get your aunt’s official approval before you start inviting me into your bedroom,” he said.

  “I was just inviting you in for the view,” Evvie said, and realized to her annoyance that she was blushing.

  “I’m enjoying the view I have right now,” Sam said. “I never get invited to the summer people’s houses. And when I make a delivery, I go through the back entrance.”

  “Is that why Mrs. Baker was annoyed?” Evvie asked. “Because you didn’t know your place?”

  “The problem is I don’t know my place,” Sam said. “If I’m here to deliver books, then I should come in through the back. But if I’m here to take you to lunch, then the front door is appropriate. Maybe I should have used the side door, a compromise gesture.”

  “I don’t think there is one,” Evvie said. “Maybe I should use the back door.”

  “You’re family,” Sam replied. “Family always uses the front. I can see there’s a lot you need to learn about the class system.”

  “By the time I learn it, I’ll be out of here,” she told him. “This is only a summer visit.”

  “It never hurts to understand the class system,” Sam said. “Or is your family in a class by itself?”

  “Pretty much so,” Evvie said with a smile.

  Mrs. Baker walked down the stairs looking disapproving. Evvie felt momentary guilt that she had let Sam in, and then she told herself not to be foolish. She had at least as many rights as Mrs. Baker, and one of those rights was inviting another human being into her aunt’s home.

  “Miss Winslow will see you now,” Mrs. Baker said. “Upstairs, second door to the right.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said. He darted outside, and came back in carrying a large carton.

  “What’s in the box?” Evvie asked him as she followed him upstairs.

  “Books for your aunt to choose from,” Sam said. He paused at the top of the stairs, and Evvie could see him take a deep breath, then release it. It pleased her to sense his nervousness. Then he walked to Aunt Grace’s room and knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” Grace said, and Sam did. Evvie entered as well. She was tempted to let him go in by himself, but that would have been cowardly. Besides, Sam might chicken out if she wasn’t there reminding him of what his actual mission was.

  “I brought you a whole batch of books,” Sam said. “I mean, good afternoon, Miss Winslow.”

  “Good afternoon, Sam,” Aunt Grace said. “You were saying about the books.”

  “Well, it seemed to me you were stuck in bed, I mean, here in the house, and you might like to make your own selections, anyway,” Sam blurted. “So I brought the bookstore to Muhammad.”

  “The entire bookstore?” Aunt Grace said.

  “Not exactly,” Sam admitted. “More like two dozen new books. Actually just like two dozen new books. We got a shipment in Friday, and when your niece came, I figured rather than loading her down, I’d drive the books over here, and you could pick and choose from them and whatever you didn’t want, I’d just take back to the store. Along with your niece.”

  “What about my niece?” Aunt Grace asked. “I am an old woman, and I don’t understand it when you young people speak so quickly.”

  “What Sam’s trying to say is after you make your selections, we were hoping I could drive back to town with him and have lunch,” Evvie said.

  “Oh,” Grace said. “So I should assume this delivery is actually a prearranged conspiracy.”

  “Uh, yes,” Sam said. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  Aunt Grace raised her eyebrows, and for the first time Evvie truly understood why her mother had eloped.

  “Another way is that I’m combining business with pleasure,” Sam said. “The business part is bringing you these books, hoping you’ll buy a lot of them. I brought hardbacks, too, Miss Winslow. We’re after your money.”

  “Many people are,” Grace said. “Is the pleasure part a chance to visit with me?”

  Sam smiled. “Where are my manners,” he said. �
�How are you feeling today, Miss Winslow?”

  “Irritable,” Grace replied. “Bored. Cranky.”

  “Itchy, too, I’ll bet,” Sam said. “My grandmother, my other grandmother, broke her ankle two years ago, and she itched for weeks. It drove her crazy. The day they took the cast off was the happiest day of her life. Or so she claimed at the time.”

  “I am not the least bit interested in your grandmother’s broken ankle,” Aunt Grace declared. “And I’m not about to discuss itches with you.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Sam said. “May I take Evvie out to lunch?”

  “So you can discuss itches with her?” Grace asked. “Or make fun of cranky old ladies?”

  “Sam told me there was a pizza place,” Evvie said. “It sounded like fun. That’s all.”

  “And what are your intentions, Sam?” Grace asked. “Following lunch.”

  “I’m not sure,” Sam said. “But I suppose I’ll bring Evvie back here, try to see more of her this summer, graduate high school, go to college, get my degree, find a decent-paying job, and then marry her. You’ll have to ask Evvie what her intentions are. We’ve only spent a few minutes together, so I can’t speak for her.”

  “You think you’re being amusing,” Grace said. “You’re not, young man.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to be amusing, Miss Winslow,” Sam declared. “I was being honest. Now, may Evvie and I go out for some pizza?”

  “Please, Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. “I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half tops. And then you can pick which one of the mysteries I should start reading out loud to you. Or maybe we could do some needlepoint together.”

  “Needlepoint?” Grace said. “I didn’t know you cared to sew, Evvie.”

  “I don’t,” Evvie said. “But you could teach me. Or I could read while you sewed.”

  “Very well,” Grace said. “Go, have your pizza. Be back here in one hour. And don’t let romance cloud your thoughts. You both know I could never allow it. Now go.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. She bent over to kiss her aunt good-bye, but Grace waved her away. Evvie smiled, and left the room as fast as dignity allowed. Sam walked out just a bit faster than that.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered. “We only have an hour.”

  Evvie skipped down the stairs and rushed to Sam’s car. Sam ran beside her, hopped in, and drove the few miles to the pizza place. Evvie was pleased to see it was at a little mall, complete with supermarket, pharmacy, and gas station.

  “So this is where the natives live,” she said.

  “It’s where we shop,” Sam said. “I’m famished. Terror always makes me hungry.”

  “I’ve been hungry since yesterday,” Evvie said. “Do you mind treating? My finances are a little weird right now.”

  “No problem,” Sam said. “Next time it’s on you.”

  “You’re on,” Evvie said. They walked up to the counter, placed their order for pizza slices and Coke, and then took the paper plates and cups and found an empty table. “I left in a hurry yesterday and all Nicky gave me was a hundred dollar bill.”

  “Nicky?” Sam asked, taking a bite of his pizza.

  “My father,” Evvie said. “And my mother is called Megs. We call them ‘untraditional names’ according to Aunt Grace. Megs is Grace’s niece.”

  “Lucky Megs,” Sam said. “So they shipped you up here for the summer as punishment for calling them Nicky and Megs?”

  “No punishment,” Evvie said. “Just to be helpful.”

  “Good luck,” Sam said. “Do you think you’ll last that long?”

  “I’ll try,” Evvie said. “Do you spend all your summers here?”

  Sam nodded.

  “Good pizza,” Evvie said. “I don’t believe how hungry I am. Could you hand me a napkin?”

  Sam did. “Do your parents stay here, too?” she asked as she wiped her mouth. “In the summers, I mean.”

  Sam shook his head. “I live with my grandparents year-round,” he said. “During the school year, I live with my mother’s parents, the Greenes. In the summers, I live here, with my father’s parents, the Steinmetzes.”

  “Oh,” Evvie said. “Do you mind?”

  “It’s okay,” Sam said. “I don’t remember any other way. And they all love me, that I know. You have tomato sauce on your chin.”

  Evvie wiped accordingly. “My mother’s an orphan,” she said. “That’s why she lived with Aunt Grace. My father’s one, too. He’s been one since he was sixteen.”

  “You outnumber me in parents, then,” Sam said. “But I have a big advantage in grandparents.”

  “I used to want grandparents,” Evvie said. “You know, the traditional kind. Especially around the holidays. Kids I knew were always going off to visit their grandparents at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I always felt deprived.”

  “That must have been rough,” Sam said.

  “I’m sorry,” Evvie said. “You must have wished for parents a lot harder than I ever wished for grandparents.”

  “No,” Sam said, and he smiled. “It was just a given. I lived with my grandparents. I’m not big on wishing for things I can’t have.”

  “Nicky wishes for everything,” Evvie declared. “And he gets what he wishes for about half the time. Thea, that’s my sister, she wishes for things all the time, too, but her winning percentage isn’t nearly that high.”

  “What I really wish for is another slice of pizza,” Sam declared. “Could I interest you in one?”

  “Please,” Evvie said. She watched as Sam walked back to the counter, then returned with two new slices.

  “So you have parents named Nicky and Megs and a sister named Thea,” Sam said, after handing Evvie her slice. “And of course, there’s Aunt Grace. Does that complete your family?”

  “No,” Evvie said. “I’m the oldest of four sisters, Thea, Claire, and Sybil.”

  “Oh,” Sam said. “Your initials spell etceteras. Did you know that?”

  “You’re not the first person to point that out,” Evvie said. Sam looked disappointed. “But you did it faster than almost everybody else,” she continued. “How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Just me,” Sam said. “Things are complicated enough without siblings.”

  “Complicated in what way?” Evvie asked.

  “Is Evvie short for something?” Sam asked instead. “Are you really an Evelyn in disguise?”

  “That’s complicated, too,” Evvie declared. “My name was just about the only thing my parents ever disagreed about. Megs wanted to call me Evann, which would have been short for Eventually, because it took them forever to get married, and then even longer before they began having children. Only Nicky wanted to call me Eve, because I was a fresh start. So they ended up with Evvie.”

  “Do you like it?” Sam asked.

  “It’s okay,” Evvie said. “When I’m old enough, I think I’ll switch to Eve. When I’m ready to handle it. So what’s so complicated about your life?”

  “What isn’t,” Sam said. “Take names. I have a batch of them, too.”

  “How many?” Evvie asked. “I’d hate to think we weren’t properly introduced.”

  “It depends which grandparents I’m with,” Sam said. “During the summers, I’m Sam Steinmetz. During the school year, I’m Sam Greene. No, that isn’t right, either. I’m Sammy Greene. They call me Sammy there.”

  “And here they call you Sam,” Evvie said. “What are the other complications?”

  “That isn’t complicated enough for you?” Sam asked.

  “Are you kidding,” Evvie said. “Nicky calls Megs Daisy. All her friends call her Meg. And Aunt Grace insists on calling her Margaret. And we’re the only ones who call him Nicky. Everybody else calls him Nick, except for Megs. She calls him Nicholas. Sammy Sam doesn’t scare me at all.”

  “All right, Evvie Eve,” Sam said. “Are you ready for ice cream?”

  “I’m always ready for ice cream,” Evvie replied
. They picked up their plates and cups and threw them out as they left. Then they walked the block to the ice cream stand, stood on line, and placed their orders.

  “We were discussing complications,” Evvie declared as they sat under a tree to eat their cones. “What other ones are there besides your names?”

  “They’re not bad complications,” Sam said. “Look, I’m lucky, and I know it. I could have gotten lost years ago, thrown out with the garbage. Instead I’m surrounded by people who love me. I’m not a fool. I know how bad things could have been.”

  “All right,” Evvie said. “It must be complicated, though, living with two sets of grandparents. Are you two different people?”

  “That’s a funny question,” Sam said. “Why? Should I be?”

  Evvie shook her head. “My family moves around a lot,” she replied. “It’s hard to explain. Nicky’s sort of a wheeler-dealer. When his deals work out, we go up in the world, move to a better place, live really well. When his deals fall through, then we move to someplace not so nice and stay there until he can get another deal going. But no matter where we are, he’s always the same person.”

  “Are you?” Sam asked. “From place to place?”

  “I think so,” Evvie said. “Yes, I am. Are you?”

  Sam took a bite out of his cone. “I’m not certain,” he said. “But no, I’m probably different people there and here. Different name, different person.”

  “I like Sam Steinmetz,” Evvie said. “What’s Sammy Greene like?”

  “That’s the funny thing,” Sam replied. “Everyone likes Sammy. I’m really a very successful person back there.”

  “Back there,” Evvie said. “Or back home?”

  “You live in two separate places, have two separate lives, you don’t really have a home,” Sam replied. He got up, and threw out the remains of his ice cream. “Things are too divided. My grandparents can’t stand each other. This nine months there, three months here is a custody arrangement. Neither set wants me to be too much like the other, so when I’m with the Greenes, I have to be just like them, and when I’m with the Steinmetzes, I have to be just like them. Sometimes I get very bad headaches.”