by Claire Cook
“It’s me again,” my father’s voice said. “Listen, Champ and I were just wondering. You haven’t seen that Ann-Margret yet, have you?”
“Uh, no.”
“Well, let us know if you catch sight of her, okay, Toots? And if you’re talking to you-know-who, don’t let on we were asking, okay?”
I finally made the Ann-Margret connection. “Hey, Dad, we’re not in Hollywood. We’re on Cape Cod.”
“Did I know that?”
“I’m not sure, Dad. I just barely found out.”
“Well, you’d think the old goat could have told me. Listen, I better go check on the babies.”
“Awhh, how’re they doing?”
“Better than the bee’s knees. See ya later, Dollface.”
“Bye, Dad,” I said to my second dial tone of the morning.
Chapter 18
I SPENT THE NEXT CHUNK OF THE MORNING ALTERnating between watching Riley and hunting for stray pieces of glass. Then I tracked down the gumball machines for Riley, who would be thrilled to hear they hadn’t accidentally been left behind in Marshbury.
During a break between shots, Riley and I headed up to use the restrooms at the bathhouse. His bloody stump took a bit of getting used to, but I was fine, as long as I didn’t look directly at it. “Nice job,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. “It’s pretty fun today.” He held up his stump. “Do you think they’ll let me take this home with me?”
“We can ask.”
“Cool.”
The twins came up beside us. Just as I looked over and started to smile at them, one of them shoved Riley hard. He took a few hops, trying to stay on his feet, but the prosthesis must have thrown off his balance, because he toppled over into me, and we both went down.
As I was chomping a mouthful of sand, I distinctly heard a duet. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
I pushed myself up onto my knees, then jerked my way into a standing position. It hurt a lot more to fall now than it had just a couple of years ago, I noticed. The sand wasn’t as much of a cushion as you’d think it would be, and I felt like I had tiny shards of glass imbedded in my knees and palms. Maybe I could dig them out and turn them into sea glass.
Riley was already up. The twins were probably out of earshot, but he yelled after them anyway. “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya.”
“You okay?” I asked.
He held up his stump and waved it back and forth. “Look what they did to me,” he said. Then he smiled.
We walked up the hill and stopped where the signs pointed one way for men and the other for women. “Meet you back here,” I said. “Hey, other than getting shoved around, are things going okay with the other kids?”
Riley gave me a thumbs-up with the hand he could control. “Yeah, we all work together. It’s a beautiful thing.”
I wasn’t buying it. “Are you sure?”
Riley lowered his voice to a squeaky whisper. “They said you did sex with someone so I could be in the movie. So I told them then their guardian did it with two people.”
“What?”
Riley grinned. “Get it, Aunt Ginger? There’s two of them?”
I reached for something a good parent might say. “Riley, you know I didn’t really do anything to get you your part in the movie, don’t you? You got it all by yourself. One hundred percent.”
Riley nodded. “Yeah, I know that. But it was a good line, wasn’t it?”
I TRIED CALLING GERI to tell her she might want to check in with Riley to make sure he wasn’t being scarred for life by the twins, but she didn’t answer. I thought I was handling things pretty well, though. Riley was probably starting to think of me as a third parent by now.
After that I just hung around out of Allison Flagg’s line of vision and read my library book. There was a great idea for linking fishing swivels together to make bracelets. The best thing about it was I could probably get some right at the Fisherman’s Lodge. If I could manage to drill some holes in my sea glass, I could even thread some small pieces of it onto the swivels, maybe alternating them with beads. I’d make a few samples and visit a couple of the Cape shops while I was down here and see if they’d take any on consignment.
Of course, I should get back to work on my sea glass earrings, too. I’d managed to pack up some of my supplies, at least the ones my cat wasn’t using, so I had two small bags of sea glass, plus most of a spool of twenty-gauge wire and half a bag of hypoallergenic pierced earring wires, with me. There was a whole chapter in this book about wire-wrapping techniques, so maybe I could master something new in that department.
So far I was fairly limited. I’d perfected kind of an asymmetrical wire wrap, with an extra little loop. I could also do a wrap that made the piece of sea glass look like a tiny present. And then there was the double-wrap present technique, which added a second strand of wire right next to the first, and let’s not forget about the asymmetrical wrap with two extra loops instead of one. I had a lot to learn.
I kept reading. I could hardly wait to try twisting and coiling and even hammering the wire to make spiral cages for the sea glass. There were some figure eight techniques that could work, too, as kind of a backdrop for the sea glass. It might also be interesting to try to make something called a jig by hammering nails into a piece of graph paper glued onto a block of wood to try some more complicated wire patterns.
Wow, there was even a section in the book about making jewelry with electrical supplies. Little tiny metal things called condensers could be used to create earrings if you ran wire down the middle of them. Who knew?
I looked up. The gaffer was staring at me from over by the video monitors. He put down the big cord he was holding and waved. I looked down again and kept reading.
Riley and I both managed to eat our lunch without anyone shoving us. We even sat right down at the table with Allison Flagg and the twins, just so they didn’t think they could push us around. Some of the women at the table actually seemed pretty friendly. One of them pointed to my book. “There’s a great place for jewelry near the town square. It’s called Sand, Sea and Sky. You should check it out.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“In your spare time,” Allison Flagg said. One of the other women giggled.
I didn’t even bother to look at her. “All set, Riley?” I said as I pushed my chair back from the table.
We stopped at the gumball machines on our way back. Riley stretched out his arms and gave one of them a hug. “I missed you guys,” he said.
That gaffer was everywhere. “Hey, are you still following me?” he asked as he walked over to us. He flipped his sunglasses up to the top of his head.
“Are you almost ready, Riley?” I asked. I’d never really noticed before how handy it was to have kids around. They were a great social buffer.
“Okay,” Tim Kelly said. “You can take my drill. But just for one night.”
Riley gave me a handful of M&M’s and went back for more. “You don’t happen to have any old electrical condensers you don’t need, do you?” I asked. “Little ones?”
The gaffer shook his head. “Give ’em an inch. . . .” He turned around so we were both facing the same way, and draped an arm across my shoulder. “I knew it. You’re much brighter than you pretend to be.”
“Brightest bulb in the pack,” I said as I slid out from under his arm.
He grinned. “Are you trying to turn me on with all this electrical talk?”
I groaned. “Yuck. And you were almost likable for a minute there. Listen, thanks so much about the drill. I really appreciate it. Well, better get back to work.” I took a few quick steps toward Riley.
“Right,” he said. “Let me know if you need me for anything.”
I was pretty sure I could think of a couple things if I tried, but I was definitely not going there.
RILEY GOT BUSY AGAIN and I tried to. Every paragraph or two, I’d find myself peeking over the top of my book to look for the gaffer. I imagined stretching out beside him on a beach b
lanket, rubbing sunscreen on his back. Handing him the bottle so he could rub some on mine. . . .
I was saved by the ring of my cell phone. It was my father. “Just to let you know,” he said as soon as I said hello, “we took our daily constitutional and walked way the heck over to the Take It or Leave It so I could show the babies where they were adopted.”
“That’s nice, Dad. You didn’t try to put Boyfriend in the stroller with them, did you?”
“Champ decided to stay home, but I told him I’d keep an eye out for a double stroller. We’ll work things out, don’t you worry. By the way, you don’t have any of that Bactine ointment hanging around anywhere, do you?”
“Ask Mom.” I stood up so I could get a better look at things on the film front. Riley was splashing around in the water now, and everybody on the beach was screaming. It looked pretty scary, even from here.
“Listen, Champ and I were just thinking maybe we’d drive the babies down to see you. How’s that sound to you, Toots?”
That got my attention. “Dangerous?” I suggested.
“Oh, don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. We were thinking the babies could stay with you, and Champ and I would take the ferry over to Nantucket. Some lady at the Take It or Leave It told me you could make a million dollars in one month on the things they throw away at the dump over there. None of those rich people want to bother to haul their old stuff off the island, so they just leave it for the taking.”
“Dad, Boyfriend doesn’t like to ride in the car. What’s Mom up to today? Maybe you should ask her to take a ride with you.”
“Keep this under your hat, but I think the old broad is spying on me.”
“What?”
“The babies and I are pretty sure we saw her over at the dump today.”
“Maybe she was just getting rid of some things.”
“Everybody knows that’s not her department. Anyhoo, did I tell you what we found at the Take It or Leave It today?”
I was wearing a watch today. I looked at it. “No, what?”
“A ship’s wheel coffee table exactly like the one in our rumpus room. We’ll have a matched set once I talk you-know-who into it. They just don’t make tables like that anymore. Right now we’ve got Champ’s food and water up on top of it. I don’t think he likes sharing with the babies, so they’ve got their own chow area on the floor over by the kitchen cabinets.”
I was trying not to picture all that stuff in my apartment. “Great, Dad.”
“Well, okay, Toots, that’s it for now. We’ll talk to you later. Over and out.”
My phone rang again before I could even put it away. I pushed the green button. “What, do you guys take a number, like at the deli?”
“Is that any way to talk to your mother, Virginia?”
“Oh, Mom, sorry, I thought you were Geri. I haven’t talked to her since this morning. You don’t think she’s sick, do you?”
“Do you know that father of yours is keeping kittens at your place?”
“You’re kidding.”
“I knew you knew. Wait till I get my hands on him.”
“Mom, let’s change the subject, okay? What else is going on up there?”
“Well, I finally gave up waiting for you-know-who to do it, so I got rid of that awful old coffee table in the rumpus room. I talked the paperboy into helping me load it into the car and drove it over to the dump myself.”
“That’s great, Mom. Listen, I’m right in the middle of one of my jewelry books. Can I call you later?”
I WAITED AROUND outside the special effects trailer while Riley had his bloody stump removed for the day, and then we went over to the electrical trailer to get the drill. Even though it had been a long day, we decided we’d drive into town and walk around before we headed back to the hotel.
We grabbed some bottles of water at the crafts services table for the ride and started across the parking lot toward our rental car. Riley was carrying the drill and a pair of safety goggles, and I was looking through a handful of tiny metal condensers. Some of them had definite possibilities. I looked over my shoulder to make sure Tim Kelly wasn’t following us, but the coast was clear. The gaffer had actually been pretty nice about handing everything over.
“Uh-oh,” Riley said.
It looked like our rental car had had a long day, too. There was a thick brown streak smeared across the windshield of our white Chevy Malibu, and a small mound of the same stuff sat dead center on the hood. “Ohmigod,” I said, “is that what it looks like?”
Riley took a step closer and sniffed. “I think it’s only smushed brownie.”
I stood beside Riley and leaned forward carefully. “I think you’re right.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue, but it seemed woefully inadequate. “Got any good ideas?” I asked.
“How about the windshield wipers?”
“You’re pretty smart for an eight-year-old.” We climbed into the car, and I kept my finger on the windshield fluid button until it seemed safe to turn on the wipers.
Several tries later and we’d created a small window in a sea of chocolate flecks. Now we had a great view of the big pile of brownie on the hood. “I’m not touching that,” I said. “It really looks like dog poop.”
Riley laughed. “I think we should keep it on there.”
“I think we should take a picture and send it to the Marshbury Beautification Commission. They should know what their chairperson’s daughters have been up to.”
Chapter 19
RILEY SEEMED FINE TO ME, BUT I KNEW IT WAS MY REsponsibility to make sure he was taking the brownie poop in stride. “I don’t usually tell this story,” I said once we were on the road, “but when I was in sixth grade I got a big part in a play, and somebody put a dead rat in my locker.”
“Cool,” Riley said. “How’d they kill it?”
There really was a gender difference. In all these years, I’d never once stopped to ponder that question. “I don’t know,” I said. “Machine gun?”
“Nah, that would splatter it.”
We were almost to the harbor, so I rolled down the window and took a whiff of salt air. “Maybe it was dead already. Bubonic plague?”
Riley considered this. “Maybe it was rat poison.”
“Well,” I said. “Better it than me, I guess.” I rolled the window back up to see if I could trap the salt smell inside with us.
We parked the rental car right on Main Street and pretended we didn’t notice the tourists staring at the hood of our car as they walked by. We got out and poured what was left of our bottled water on the main deposit of brownie. Riley picked up a stick and gave it a little poke.
He started to laugh. “I think it turned into a fossil,” he said between squeaks.
“Well, you’re going to have to drive back to the hotel then. I can’t handle looking at it.”
“Deal,” he said.
We found Sand, Sea and Sky right away. As soon as we walked through the door, I was in heaven. It was packed full of everything from vintage jewelry to Nantucket baskets and those Cape Cod bracelets everybody seemed to be wearing. I pointed to one in a case. “What are these called again?” I asked the woman behind the counter.
She looked up from a length of beads she was stringing. “Oddball bracelets,” she said. “Actually, we’re not allowed to call them that. The family who first started making them is trying to get them patented. They even put little tags on theirs that say ‘the only authentic oddball.’ So we’re adding cobalt beads and Swarovski crystals to ours and calling them blueball bracelets.”
“Cute,” I said.
“It’s dog-eat-dog down here,” she said.
“Really?” I’d pictured this wonderful, utopian Cape Cod artists’ community. I looked around to make sure Riley was okay. He was curled up in a chair by the front door, reading his joke book.
The woman put down her beads and adjusted the straps on her tank top. “Not always,” she said. “There are some great people, some great shops. You
just have to make sure you don’t step on anybody’s toes.”
I was trying to casually look around for sea glass jewelry. I could see a few pieces, mostly pendants set in heavy sterling silver. “You don’t happen to need any sea glass earrings, do you?” I reached up to touch my ears, but of course I hadn’t remembered to wear any.
“Sure, they sell like crazy here. Bring in some samples. By the way, I’m Marnie. My co-owner, Daria, is in the back working on some lampwork beads. Go introduce yourself before you leave.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m Ginger. I really love your store. You have some amazing things.” I picked up a pin that seemed to be made entirely of old buttons.
“That one speaks to me, too,” she said.
I ran my finger along the edge of the arched mother-of-pearl button in the center. “I’ve never quite thought of it that way,” I said.
She picked up a pink and black ring that had an art deco look. “Oh, jewels are definitely a means of communication, and every single civilization has had them. They speak to us, and we wear them to tell each other who we are.”
There was a tray of beads on top of the case. I reached in and picked up a tiny green bead shaped like a frog.
“That’s Czech glass. It looks like malachite, doesn’t it? I don’t know about the Czechs, but the Chinese consider the frog a symbol of luck.”
It couldn’t hurt. I reached into my shoulder bag for my wallet.
RILEY AND I PUSHED ASIDE a tie-dyed curtain at the back of the store and introduced ourselves to Daria. She was sitting at a long plywood table and twisting what looked like a sparkler back and forth in the middle of a small propane flame.
“Wow,” I said. “So that’s how you make lampwork beads.”
“It is indeed.” Daria had a young, pretty face and gray hair that coiled around her head like a Brillo pad.
I could just make out a tiny bead at the end of the sparkler. I liked the little torchlike flame. It was so much more civilized than that great big gaping furnace Noah used.
She pulled the sparkler out of the flame and looked at it for a minute. Then she shoved it bead-first into a Crock-Pot.
