“Eleven on weekdays,” Robin informed him. “Midnight on weekends.”
“Any exceptions?”
“Only if you can prove you’re my grandmother,” Robin said.
“I’m glad I can’t,” he said. “You work nine to five?”
“Pretty much,” Robin said. What if he decided she wasn’t worth the effort?
But Tim smiled. “That gives us six hours on weekdays, and all day weekends,” he said. “Even if we just spend from noon to midnight together on weekends, that’s fifty-four hours a week together. How many more weeks do you have in the city?”
“Seven.”
“Three hundred and seventy-eight hours,” Tim announced. “That’s a lot more than Romeo and Juliet managed.”
“They didn’t have to wait for buses, though,” Robin said, dizzy with happiness.
“Yeah, but they wasted a lot of time with sleeping potions,” Tim said. “Robin Schyler. What’s your middle name?”
“Louise,” Robin said, wishing it was something more romantic.
“Robin Louise Schyler,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you believe in love at first sight, Robin Louise Schyler.”
“I could sure learn to,” Robin said.
“Great,” Timothy Alden said. “I’ll spend the summer teaching you the rules.”
6
There were several reasons why Robin was reluctant to introduce Tim to Torey and Ashley. For starters, there was the undeniable fact that Torey and Ashley were both better-looking than she was. Robin knew she was pretty, but Torey was a certifiable beauty, and Ashley had sexiness coming out of her ears. Robin had walked New York City streets with them and seen men’s reactions. No point taking chances with Tim’s newly minted affections.
Then there was Tim’s attractiveness. What if Torey—or, far more likely, Ashley—decided he was her kind of guy? Robin figured she wouldn’t stand a chance.
And finally there was always the long-shot possibility that Torey or Ashley would fail to realize just how perfect Tim was and spend the rest of the summer mocking Robin for her choice. Robin had a friend back in Elmsford who did that to any of her friends who started dating seriously. Robin had been the butt of her comments often enough not to invite the same situation where she had even less protection.
Annie liked Tim, Robin knew, from things she’d said on the train trip home Sunday. Tim was just fine for Robin, in Annie’s opinion. Her grandmother’s other three finds were also fine, but not for Annie.
“Nana refuses to understand I’m still nursing a broken heart,” Annie explained as the train pulled into Penn Station. “I really loved Ted. It’s going to take a while for me to get over him.”
Robin muttered sympathetic noises, but already her mind was on ways of keeping Ashley and Torey from meeting Tim for as long a time as she could get away with.
She actually managed for close to a week. She arranged to have dates with Tim on Tuesday and Thursday nights, when the other girls were busy enough not to insist on going to the hotel lobby with Robin just to get a look. Monday and Friday nights Robin found she was busy and couldn’t see Tim. Wednesday, it turned out Tim was busy. On the days when they couldn’t see each other, though, they spoke on the phone for at least a half-hour. It had taken less than a week for Tim to become an essential part of her life in New York.
One of the things Robin discussed with Tim on the phone Wednesday was the planned Saturday-night party Mrs. Brundege was giving for the four interns.
“Please say you’ll come,” Robin said. “They’ll supply us with dates if we don’t have any.”
“Then of course I’ll come,” Tim said. “They’ll fix you up with some handsome Columbia student otherwise. I’m not taking any chances.”
Robin thought back to that time not so long ago when a handsome Columbia student would have been her idea of heaven. She almost laughed at her foolishness.
“Just how formal is this party going to be?” Tim asked. “Mrs. Brundege is a bigwig, isn’t she?”
“The biggest,” Robin replied. “She’s editor-in-chief at Image. But she also comes from this really rich family, so she has heaps of money on her own. And her husband is a partner at some huge Wall Street law firm. They have an apartment on Fifth Avenue that overlooks Central Park. That’s where the party is going to be.”
“So I don’t show up in jeans,” Tim said. “I think I can dig up a suit somewhere.”
“My mother made me bring a couple of nice dresses,” Robin said. “I don’t know what Torey’s going to do. I don’t think she brought anything appropriate.”
“She’s the poor one, right?” Tim said. “And Ashley’s the one that sounds slightly crazy.”
“That’s right,” Robin said, feeling somewhat disloyal at agreeing to such awful-sounding descriptions of her friends.
“And Annie is the one with a grandmother,” Tim continued. “And you’re the one who’s pretty and smart and drives me crazy.”
“If you say so,” Robin said, happy that Tim couldn’t see her blushing.
“I sure do,” Tim said. “So what time is this party?”
“We’re supposed to leave here around eight,” Robin said. “Us and whatever dates we can get. We’re to go straight to Mrs. Brundege’s apartment and have a good time. Then it’s straight back here, probably by midnight.”
“Well, I can think of more fun evenings,” Tim said. “But my mother says if I expect to date successful career women, I’d better get used to this sort of thing early.”
“How many successful career women do you intend to date?” Robin asked.
“One,” Tim said. “Robin Louise Schyler.”
“That’s more like it,” Robin said. “See you tomorrow?”
“At five-oh-one,” Tim replied. “Until ten-fifty-nine.”
Robin spent the next few days worrying about what Tim would think of Ashley and Torey and what Ashley and Torey would think of Tim, and what the party would be like, and if her dress was appropriate, and all kinds of other things that drove her close to crazy when she allowed them to. On the whole, it was one of the very best weeks of her life.
Saturday afternoon the girls gathered in Annie’s and Torey’s room to see what they could do about Torey’s wardrobe. Torey seemed to be the least concerned, but Ashley had decided that dressing Torey for the party was a worthwhile project. Ashley ransacked Torey’s closet as the other girls looked on.
“This is pathetic,” Ashley announced as she finished her search. “Where do you get your clothes, anyway, Torey?”
“Yard sales mostly,” Torey replied.
“There must be some very sad yards in Raymund,” Ashley said. “The only thing you have that is remotely fancy enough for this party is this thing.” She took out a sleeveless blue dress and held it disdainfully at arm’s length.
“That’s my best dress,” Torey said indignantly. “My mother made me that dress.”
“I’m sure your mother is a great woman,” Ashley said. “But she has the fashion sense of a doorknob.”
“Fashion sense is not big in our social circle,” Torey replied.
“You’d better get this into your head right now, kiddo,” Ashley said. “This is your social circle. We are your social circle, for this summer, and probably for most of the rest of your life. Mrs. Brundege is your social circle. You’re going to be kissing Raymund, New York, good-bye real soon, and you are not going to get too far in rags like this.”
“This is not a rag,” Torey said. Robin got the feeling she was actually angry.
“‘Rag’ is a fashion term,” Annie said. “It just means clothes— right, Ashley?”
“Right,” Ashley muttered. She had returned to Torey’s closet for a second look.
“There’s nothing more in there,” Torey said. “Look, I’ll wear my blue dress. I don’t see what’s the matter with it anyway.”
“It’s drab,” Ashley said. “It’s childish looking. It won’t do a thing for your figure. And
it’s stained.”
“It is?” Torey asked, and immediately grabbed the dress to check it out. Robin looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was a small dark stain near the bottom of the skirt.
“Nobody’ll look that far down,” Torey said. “If they do, they deserve to see a stain.”
“If you weren’t three inches taller than the rest of us, we might be able to lend you something,” Ashley said.
“I’ll go out right now and get my legs cut,” Torey declared. “Will that satisfy you?”
“What would satisfy me would be your letting me buy you something decent,” Ashley replied.
“I’ve already told you no,” Torey said.
“How about accessories?” Annie said. “Doesn’t Image always say you can dress up anything with the right accessories?”
“Image has never seen this dress,” Ashley said. “Look at it.”
Robin looked. It was pretty sad. Just a little blue dress with a high round collar. Robin would have killed her mother if she ever tried to get her to wear a dress like that to an important party.
“If we use really fancy accessories, then the dress will look even more ridiculous in comparison,” Ashley said. “You know what we could do, though …”
“What?” Robin asked.
“We could rip it up,” Ashley said. “Just a couple of strategic rips, and then it would look punk, and actually pretty sexy.”
“We are not ripping up my dress,” Torey said. “Do you really think I could carry punk, Ashley?”
“It would be a challenge for you,” Ashley admitted.
“Torey could put her hair up,” Robin suggested. “In a bun or a French knot. I bet she’d look like Princess Grace if she did. When she was Grace Kelley.”
Ashley stared at Torey, who stared right back. “You know, I think Robin is onto something,” she said. “Let’s think of this dress as a classic and work around it that way.”
“Torey has great hair,” Annie said, already moving over to start playing with it. “My hair is just so horrible I can’t do anything classic with it.”
“We need a belt,” Ashley said. “Hold on for a minute while I check my stuff.” She ran out into the hall, and Robin could hear her unlock the door to their room.
“I hope Ashley isn’t driving you crazy,” Annie said to Torey. “Actually I hope none of us are driving you crazy.”
“Just as long as nobody rips my dress,” Torey said. “I have two sisters who get that dress when I’m through with it.”
“It must be nice to be on that end of hand-me-downs,” Annie said, continuing to play with Torey’s hair. “I have these cousins who live in Newton, and they have heaps of money, which my family doesn’t. My aunt is always bringing over bagloads of their clothes for my mother and me. It drives me crazy.”
“Ashley means well,” Robin said.
“Ashley means extremely well,” Torey said. “How does my hair look up?”
“It looks regal,” Annie replied. “Take a peek.”
Torey got up and walked over to the mirror, Annie trailing close behind, holding her hair up. Torey smiled as she saw herself. Robin was pleased to see a sign of healthy human vanity in Torey.
“I do look good,” Torey said. “Only I don’t think I can really expect you to spend the party holding my hair up, Annie.”
“I don’t know,” Annie replied. “It might be more fun than I’d have any other way.”
“It’s a very punk way to go to a party,” Robin said.
The girls were still laughing when Ashley returned to the room. “I have it,” she said. “You can thank goodness that Ashley, Missouri’s idea of fashion ended in 1963.” She whipped out from behind her back a white linen belt and a pair of short white gloves.
“White gloves?” Annie asked, dropping Torey’s hair.
“I know,” Ashley said. “Can you believe it? My mother still wears them when she goes to tea parties.”
“Tea parties?” Robin asked.
Ashley raised her eyebrows. “They don’t limit their drinks to tea, believe me,” she said. “She’s drunk as a skunk when she gets back from one of them. But she still insists on white gloves. And she made me bring a pair for all the tea parties I’d be attending.”
“A circle pin,” Robin said. “That’s what the outfit needs.”
“You don’t have one, do you?” Ashley asked.
Robin nodded. “Circle pins are to my mother what white gloves are to yours,” she said. “She wore one the year she spent in New York, so she made me take it with me when I came to New York. Circle pins never got out of style, she always says.”
“She may be right,” Ashley said. “Go get the pin. Let’s see how this outfit works.”
Robin ran back to her room and located the pin as fast as she could. By the time she got back, Torey was wearing the blue dress and Ashley was adjusting the belt. Robin tossed her the pin, which Ashley pinned on carefully. Next came the white gloves, and then it was over to the mirror to pin Torey’s hair up in a simple classic knot.
“We’re geniuses,” Ashley proclaimed. “Look at yourself, Torey, and see if you approve.”
Torey walked over to the room’s full-length mirror and checked herself out carefully. “Should I be wearing sneakers?” she asked.
“They’re a nice touch,” Ashley said. “But they’re probably a little too subtle for our audience. We’re the same shoe size. I have a pair of white pumps that’ll be perfect.”
“I don’t feel like me,” Torey said. “How do I look to the rest of you?”
“You look beautiful,” Annie said. “Like you stepped out of the pages of Vogue twenty-five years ago.”
Robin began to hate the party dress she was planning to wear. She’d never thought about wearing a classic before.
“You’ll outshine us all,” Ashley said. “Except maybe me, but that’s only because I intend to show a lot of flair tonight.”
“I don’t intend to show anything,” Annie said. “Except that I’ve lost five pounds since I got to New York.”
“That’s great,” Torey said.
Robin reflected miserably that she’d probably put five pounds on since her arrival. She was fat and flairless and definitely not classically beautiful. What could Tim possibly see in her?
She felt awful all afternoon long, and hardly touched her supper. Even showering and preparing for the party failed to lighten her mood. She finished a half-hour early, and Ashley hadn’t even begun to change.
“Aren’t you going?” Robin asked as she emerged from the bathroom.
“Of course I am,” Ashley said. “I just want to make sure to keep my date waiting.”
“Date?” Robin said. “You didn’t mention anything about a date.”
“I don’t tell you everything,” Ashley said. “You through with the bathroom?”
“All finished,” Robin said, checking herself over in the mirror. Tim had decided to come a little early so they could have a few minutes without the others in the lobby. Robin stared at herself and tried to see the pretty girl she usually found there. She was probably lurking around somewhere, but Robin seemed to have misplaced her.
“You look great,” Ashley called out from the bathroom. “New York City is lucky to have us.”
“If you say so,” Robin said. “I’m going downstairs to wait for Tim.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Ashley said. “See you down there in a half-hour or so.”
“Okay,” Robin said, and left the room. She felt heavy-hearted as the elevator took her down to the lobby. How could she dream that Tim would still be interested in her when he met the other girls?
As the elevator doors closed behind her, Robin noticed Tim entering the hotel lobby. He was dressed in a gray summer suit and was wearing a maroon tie she could just tell he’d borrowed from his father. He was the handsomest boy she’d ever seen in her whole life, and in spite of herself she smiled with joy just at the sight of him.
Tim spot
ted her and smiled back. Robin rushed to him, and he started walking rapidly over to her. Before she knew it, they were embracing smack in the middle of the lobby of the Abigail Adams Hotel for Women.
“You’re beautiful,” Tim said, sounding almost surprised.
“I am, aren’t I?” Robin said. “How do you like the dress?”
“It looks great on you,” Tim said. “How do I look? Am I presentable?”
“You’re wonderful,” Robin said, and took his hand. They walked together to a pair of chairs and sat down to wait for the others.
Annie and Torey came down together. Robin had a moment of anxiety, which was almost immediately washed away by an intense sense of pride. Torey looked magnificent, and she’d helped. Annie looked thinner and very pretty. And Tim was simply perfection.
They stood around chatting until Annie pointed out a strange-looking guy standing by the lobby desk. “He asked for Ashley,” Annie said. “I heard him.”
“She said she had a date,” Robin reported.
Torey grinned. “It figures Ashley would find somebody a little different to go out with,” she said. “Let’s go over and say hello.”
Robin and the others followed Torey over to the guy. Close up, he was even scarier than he had been at a distance. His hair was in the shortest crew cut she’d ever seen, and his eyebrows seemed to have been shaved off. Instead he’d penciled in upside-down V’s, which gave him a permanently quizzical look. He’d also penciled in a large Z on his left cheek. He needed a shave too, although he smelled like he’d doused an entire bottle of aftershave lotion over himself. He was wearing a dirty white undershirt with a couple of holes in it, and exceptionally tight blue jeans. Robin decided against looking down at his feet, for fear of what she’d find there.
“You waiting for Ashley Boone?” Tim asked.
“I sure am,” the guy said, grinning happily. “You all those friends of hers she mentioned?”
“We are,” Torey said. “I’m Torey Jones.” She held out a white-gloved hand for him to shake.
“Harvey Horrible,” the guy said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “Pleasure to meet you, Torey.”
“Tim Alden,” Tim said. “Is that a stage name, Harvey?”
Fantasy Summer Page 6
