Girls Only!

by Beverly Lewis

  Her head swirled with the shocker. Glancing at her watch, she knew that Jenna, Livvy, and Heather—right about now—were laughing and having a good time at Girls Only. . . .

  * * *

  Manda skied well enough, though Coach Hanson asked her if everything was all right at home. She knew if she opened up and shared she would expose too much of herself. Sure, she felt defenseless to change the course of things. And yes, Mom’s short-lived happiness was at stake and Manda’s own hopes and dreams for a complete family had been shattered. That was no reason to get herself eliminated from the team by skiing poorly. Was it? She was going to Dressel Hills on St. Patrick’s Day to win a race.

  If anything, she was more committed to skiing her best than ever before. She planned to go into isolation for the next few days. Maybe all next week, too. She’d have to get Mom to sign off on the idea, of course. If missing a few days of school was a problem, then she’d just have to plead with her mother to see the light. Somehow, she was going to make it happen.

  There would be no more petty encounters with either Jenna or Livvy. No more opening herself up to distractions of any kind. Nope, she’d had it. Even if Jenna did decide to “cut her some slack,” as Livvy had put it, well . . . she would have to shelve the friendship for now. Because nobody . . . nothing was going to push back the tiger within her. The race was hers for the taking!

  Star Status

  Chapter Nine

  She avoided bumping into Mom on Saturday morning. Manda got up long before dawn and slipped out of the house. She caught the one and only city bus.

  The freebie transportation rumbled around through the village, then to the outskirts of town. She was headed for Alpine Ski Academy, hoping to run into Tarin’s dad during the early-morning hours.

  She knew Tarin’s schedule for ski instruction from memory. Saturdays were free-ski days when the preschool-age skiers could hang out on the bunny slope without their regular instructors. Certified assistants hovered near, of course. But the idea was to give little skiers—who’d had a few weeks of training—a chance to try their wings.

  Manda was sure Tarin would show up for the hour-long session. And she wanted to be there—make it look like she was helping out—when Mr. Greenberg dropped off his son.

  * * *

  Clean shaven and casually dressed in khaki pants and a blue knit sweater, Matthew Greenberg walked Tarin to the entrance. Manda watched the two from the window in the lobby area. The place was surprisingly hopping for so early on a weekend, but not so crowded that she couldn’t go to them as they came in the door. “Well, hello there, Manda!” Tarin’s father said, all smiles.

  Tarin ran to her. “Want to watch me ski?” he asked, eyes pleading.

  “Sure, for a little while. Then I have to hit the slopes myself.” She glanced up at Mr. Greenberg, still taken with his good-natured grin and the way his slate gray eyes held your gaze.

  Tarin ran off to hang up his jacket and find his skis. With him momentarily gone, Manda could comfortably bring up the subject of the Greenbergs’ possible move to Utah. “I know it’s probably not my place to ask, but Tarin said something yesterday . . .”

  “About my transfer?” Mr. Greenberg said.

  She nodded.

  “I’m not surprised,” he said. “Tarin’s very attached to both you and your mother. He’s not at all happy about leaving Alpine Lake, or either of you.”

  Well, then ask Mom to marry you and take us with you, she thought.

  “Tarin struggles with making new friends. He doesn’t easily fit in with other kids.”

  “Because he’s highly intelligent,” she said softly.

  “For that reason, I’m concerned about moving,” Mr. Greenberg said.

  Then don’t, she thought, wanting to speak up but didn’t.

  “Does my mom . . . know anything yet?” she asked cautiously.

  “I plan to tell her tonight.”

  Oh great. Manda didn’t care to discuss this further. And she didn’t want to keep an adorable little boy waiting. “I better catch up with Tarin.”

  “Okay. Have fun.” With that, Mr. Greenberg waved good-bye.

  She tried not to think how it would be on the day she and Mom said their final farewells. Thank goodness she still had her mom, the most important person in her life. She would direct her thoughts toward the one terrific parent God had given her. Yep, she’d do that during her practice runs today. No matter what life issues came her way, she knew she was a downhiller. Fearlessly, she pushed the limits of speed and daring.

  I was born for this, she thought, heading off to the bunny slope to find Tarin.

  * * *

  At the end of another day of training, Manda was beat. But she’d agreed to watch Tarin while Mom went out for dessert with Mr. Greenberg. She wondered how Mom would react to the moving news. Would she be heartbroken? Or indifferent?

  “Come play a game with me,” Tarin called from the family room. He enjoyed the interactive computer games he’d brought along from home.

  Wanting to be a good baby-sitter and provide an entertaining evening, Manda picked up the controls and played along, even though she really didn’t care much for the game. And besides, she knew Tarin would end up winning. He was just so smart.

  “How’s it feel getting beat by a five-year-old?” he often said, eyes wide with glee.

  She ignored him or shushed him jokingly, always wishing he might be her little stepbrother someday. Even as super intelligent—and smart-alecky—as he was. Being the only kid in the house could be a lonely state of affairs. Having a younger sibling would be very cool, she thought.

  Tarin clicked pause, stopping the game for a second, and turned to look at her. “Do you think your mom will talk my dad out of moving?” he asked innocently.

  “Will she . . . or do you mean can she?” Manda replied.

  “If she can, then she’s important to my dad,” Tarin smiled at that. “I hope she tries, at least.”

  Manda wasn’t so sure. Mom was not the type to push a relationship too quickly. She trusted God wholeheartedly with everything in her life. “You know, I have a feeling something good just might happen tonight,” she said.

  “What do you mean, Manda?”

  She wouldn’t go so far as to say that Tarin’s dad might hint of a marriage proposal. But she could hope. After all, both Mr. Greenberg and Mom were strong Christians, and they had plenty of things in common. Mom had said that their backgrounds were similar, the way they were raised and all that. It seemed like good, solid stuff to build on for a future of wedded bliss. But Mom wasn’t running the show, Manda knew that. Her mother had made it quite clear that she wanted God’s timing and His will;

  So . . . who was Manda to try to push things through? And what if Mom and Mr. Greenberg weren’t supposed to end up together, after all? Maybe the company move was God’s way of dealing with that.

  * * *

  When the phone rang, Manda hurried to check the caller ID. When she saw Livvy’s phone number, she purposely walked away from the phone, not answering. Enough unsettling news for one day.

  “Aren’t you going to answer your phone?” Tarin asked, eyes blinking.

  “Not now.”

  “What if my dad’s calling?”

  “It’s not your dad. Trust me.”

  He nodded and turned back to his game. She joined him, sitting down at the computer—doing her part to play well. She enjoyed Tarin’s laughter and she was glad she could make him happy. At least for now. When he was gone from her life, maybe the two of them could correspond by email. Or . . . maybe little Tarin and his father would simply fade into the planet, like someone else she’d known.

  Manda was actually surprised that Livvy—or one of the other club members—didn’t try to call again that evening. In some ways, she was relieved. She didn’t want to deal with whatever the club had decided about her at the snooty “special” meeting today. Besides, she was better off without them.

  When Mr. Green
berg drove up in front of the house and parked at the curb, Manda and Tarin ran to the living room windows. Peering out, Tarin whispered, “Don’t let them see us.”

  “Are we spying?” Manda asked, standing near.

  Tarin grinned up at her. “I guess we are. We’re love detectives.”

  “Oh, you’re silly,” she said. But she wondered if Mr. Greenberg had even held Mom’s hand yet. She didn’t suspect them of having even kissed “good-bye” yet. Mom was very cautious, as always.

  They stood there silently staring out at the car, watching Tarin’s dad come around to open the car on Mom’s side. There was no pausing to exchange smiles or speak to each other on the steps as they approached the front porch. No endearing glances. The couple came immediately to the house.

  Just before the door opened, Manda grabbed Tarin’s hand, and they scurried away to the kitchen like two harmless mice.

  * * *

  After Tarin and his dad left, Manda settled down in her room for the night. She figured that if there was some big news Mom wanted to share, she’d come in search of Manda. It shouldn’t be the other way around. She didn’t want to put any pressure on her mom. She really didn’t have to know about the romantic or not-so-romantic details of her mother’s life. It was best to wait things out.

  She curled up in bed, reading her collection of books featuring Olympic stars. Alpine ski racers, of course. As she read, she found herself visualizing the run at Eagle’s Point. She could almost see the snow fences lining the most hazardous spots, the bumps, the turns, and the long, narrow path to the finish line.

  Wait a minute! She’d forgotten to ask Mom about tomorrow. How could she have spaced that out? Coach was expecting her and the other skiers to work the Dressel Hills course. She’d be missing church and Sunday school again. But only if Mom agreed.

  Closing her book, she jumped out of bed and hurried down the hall to Mom’s room. She knocked on the door and waited, hoping Mom wouldn’t think she was prying about the date with Mr. Greenberg.

  Waiting longer than usual for a response, she knocked again. “You okay in there, Mom?” she called.

  Still no answer.

  Assuming her mother hadn’t come upstairs yet, she turned and dashed down the steps. There in the living room, she found Mom on her knees, praying.

  Wow, something big must have happened, she thought. Feeling awkward standing there, she tiptoed back upstairs. She would be patient and wait to ask her mother’s permission later.

  Meanwhile, she undressed for bed and picked up her Bible. But she didn’t open it to read it. Instead, she sat staring at the leather-bound cover and traced the words Holy Bible with her finger. Why, she wondered, do I feel so far from God . . . when Mom is so connected? She didn’t have the answer.

  Later, when her mom came up the steps, Manda opened the bedroom door and peeked out. “Coach wants me to practice the run at Dressel Hills tomorrow. Okay with you?”

  Mom grimaced a little. “You’re missing church too much lately. What do you think?”

  “I can’t let the team down.” Not myself, either, she thought.

  Mom’s eyes had that all-too-knowing look. But she didn’t say Manda couldn’t go.

  So Manda took Mom’s response as a “yes.” A vague sort of answer. Mom wasn’t entirely in agreement. First Jenna, Livvy, and Heather . . . and now Mom. God too?

  Star Status

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday’s training went better than Coach or anyone had anticipated. Except for one thing. The team’s top-ranking male skier lost control and crashed through the snow fence near the top of the course. He ripped his knee up so badly that he had to be taken away to the hospital. Even with extensive rehab therapy, there was no way he could ski in the Downhill. Not with less than a week before the actual race.

  As for Manda’s performance, Coach seemed pleased. “Looks to me like you’ve memorized the course.” He patted her on the back.

  “I know every bump and turn,” she replied. “And I plan to replay it in my head a thousand times before Saturday.”

  “That’s the stuff,” Coach said, both thumbs up. “You’ve got a better than good chance at this one.”

  She was thrilled with his words. It was the payoff for giving her attention to the job at hand. Thoughts of Mom and Mr. Greenberg had not even crossed her mind as she flew down the slope, her headphones cranked way up. She had been absolutely focused. Maybe more than if she hadn’t had to deliberately block the disappointing news out of her mind.

  * * *

  After the ride back from Dressel Hills, she chose to walk from the ski academy to her house, only a few blocks away. She’d thought of catching the bus but needed time to ponder life. Her life. Present and future.

  The crisp, still air was a welcome reprieve from the lashing winds of the mountain slope. She’d worn her helmet, all her safety ski gear, up there on the blustery slopes. But now, bareheaded—no hat or scarf—the cold slowly crept through to her scalp. She liked the feeling of her hair loose against her jacket and the icy-fresh smell of wintry air all around.

  As she walked, she wondered, What was Mom praying about last night? For her mother, praying was part of the nightly ritual. But last night Mom had knelt in the living room, beside the sofa, as if she’d fallen to her knees in a hurry. Whatever was on her mind was obviously urgent. It simply couldn’t wait for her to pray in the privacy of her bedroom. She’d stopped to ask God for guidance right on the spot. Was that the reason? If so, then Mr. Greenberg must have brought up a serious topic. What else could it be?

  Carefully, she picked her way over snow-packed streets toward home. Through a tangle of mature aspen trees, Manda stared at the sky. Crystal blue, the heavens seemed almost within reach. A few flat clouds scattered over the expanse of space. Even though the trees weren’t close to budding—it would be at least another month—she liked the way a multitude of branches webbed together above her. Some were so enormous they stretched out over a good portion of the street, like an incomplete awning, of sorts.

  What would it be like to leave my hometown and live somewhere else? She thought it would be both strange and wonderful all at once. But, of course, it was silly to think this way, not knowing anything definite.

  The city bus passed by just then, stopping at the intersection ahead. She waved back to the bus driver—Ian Kaplan, a native of New York. He’d lived in downtown Manhattan during his growing-up years. But he’d decided long ago to find a small town surrounded by mountains. There, he could go “unplugged,” without television and later the Web. “Things got too frantic for me . . . all that technical stuff.” And here he’d stayed, in Alpine Lake.

  She smiled, thinking of Ian. How long had she known him? For as long as she could remember, he had been driving the town bus. Ian was just one of the “village people” she’d miss if ever she and Mom were to move away.

  Coach Hanson was a big part of her life, too. So were her friends at church and school. And at the gym, where she often worked out. And . . . there was Jenna, Livvy, and Heather. But she didn’t want to think about the thorny threesome. Not now.

  * * *

  The next few days—Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday—slid by without any additional distractions. Manda decided not to ask her mom about taking off time from school. That could wait for the right moment. She attended school all day, returning home promptly to do homework. Then she hurried off to ski.

  She managed to avoid her friends. Occasionally, she ran into one or two of them, but never all three at once. And they were no longer bugging her like before. Were they respecting her need for space at last? Maybe Livvy had gotten through to Jenna that Manda needed her distance. For the purpose of concentrating on the race, of course.

  After supper on Wednesday, Manda revealed that she wanted to miss two days of school. “So I can ski all day,” she told her mom. “Really get in shape.”

  Mom frowned. “What about homework?”

  Manda had figured her mother wou
ld put her foot down. But she’d thought it through—had a plan of attack. “Would you mind sending a note to the principal? Explain everything? See if he’ll excuse me . . . I could take it to him first thing in the morning.”

  “I wonder how this will go over with your teachers,” Mom argued.

  Manda tried to paint a picture of how things would be. How she would work extra hard on her schoolwork, even get up earlier than usual. Then, off to ski the whole rest of the day. “It’s the best plan, Mom. Really, it is.”

  Then, surprise, surprise, after thinking carefully about it, Mom said it was fine with her. With one condition: Manda had to visit each teacher and get all homework assignments—any extra work, as well—in advance.

  She was going to have school at home for a couple of days. Like Heather and her brothers and sister do every day, she thought, liking the idea. Maybe someday she would be homeschooled full time. Then she could spend more time in training and on the slopes.

  Lots of advanced skiers got their education that way. Why not her, too?

  * * *

  Early Thursday morning, long before the bell, Manda took Mom’s note to the principal’s office. After her note was okayed, she began the process of gathering her assignments. Her history teacher removed his glasses and seemed surprised when she told him. “This is highly unusual,” he said.

  But when she explained what she was doing—representing Alpine Lake at the Downhill Classic—he smiled and seemed to understand. He also offered his enthusiastic support “for an exceptional run.”