“Maddie would squawk that it’s fattening,” he said.
“Then she doesn’t have to eat it. Ben, really, when you said eat, I thought you meant something like Burger King. Or Taco Bell.”
“There’s no Taco Bell in Southbridge.”
“There is in Hudson Hills. I’ve seen it, never been there.” Which brought me back to Hudson Hills. “What am I going to do about my dad?”
“Why do you have to do anything? Can’t he take care of himself?” Ben noticed he had a chunk of lemon and squeezed it on his clams.
“You know what I mean. He’s my dad. Maybe. I wonder what was in that letter. The one he meant for us.”
“Do you realize you’re rambling? What do you mean by ‘maybe’?”
“About him being my dad. How can I be sure of anything?”
“I told you. Get a DNA test.” He gave the lemon another squeeze. “Do you think you’ll want dessert?”
“I think I’m going to be stuffed. You still didn’t tell me what inspired this. Is it because—” I couldn’t say because you’ve been ignoring me. “Because you aced all your exams?”
“I will, I’m not worried. No big deal.”
“I admire your confidence, but you still didn’t tell me what we’re celebrating. Or are we?”
I got a sudden cold feeling. Maybe this was a break-up date. We could be celebrating Ben’s freedom from me. I looked up and met his chocolate eyes. It made me look away again quickly. What if he read my thoughts? What if I was right?
“I’ll tell you later,” he said.
I got even colder. “Tell me now and get it over with.”
“Don’t sound so grim. How about your birthday? Don’t you have a birthday coming up?”
“Not till the end of the month. I’m a crab.” Did he really remember my birthday? Was that what this was about? The coldness didn’t go away.
“Later,” he said. “I have reasons.”
He would dump me later. He’d let me finish my shrimp scampi first. How considerate of him.
He really was. Or tried to be. Not like Troy Zoller, who couldn’t wait till after the Harvest Moon Dance to dump me. That was because he wanted to take Stacie Marr, not me.
Would Ben do that? Never. He would dump me the nicest way possible. Maybe not even for somebody else, but just because he was going away.
“Ben, you’re really sweet.” I meant it. I ran around the table and kissed him. It didn’t matter if there were other people watching.
Some of the people applauded. I sat down again, embarrassed. I hoped I hadn’t embarrassed Ben.
Since we weren’t having dessert, he called it a night. He had an early start the next day at Frosty Dan. All the way home I dreaded what was coming. His consideration made it even worse. He was such a sweet guy, and I loved him.
When we got to my house, he walked me to the front door, stopped, and held me there.
Grandma had left the outside light on. Ben looked up at it and pulled me into the shadows.
His lips came down on mine. I snuggled close to him. His fingers worked into my shoulders, then down to my waist. He pulled me still closer, if I could get any closer.
Definitely a break-up. I nestled into him. He pulled me so close that we both sat down on the steps.
He said, “We got our class rings today.”
“You did?” Because he was graduating. And leaving.
He reached into his pocket and took out a small blue box.
The ring sat on cotton. I’d never seen a Southbridge High class ring. It was dark gold with a rectangular stone of black onyx. Something was in the stone. As I tried to see it, Ben took it out of the box and handed it to me.
“It’s our tiger!” I said. “A little bitty tiger.” That was our school symbol. I touched it and discovered the tiger’s outline, in gold, was slightly raised.
“It’s embossed,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Very classy.” I tried to give it back to him.
He closed my hand around it. “It’s yours.” Then he added, “If you want it.”
He seemed embarrassed. He’d probably never given a girl his ring before. I hoped not.
“Oh, Ben. I don’t know what to say.”
Not a break-up. It wasn’t that at all.
“Do you want it?”
Precious Ben. He was so socially awkward, he couldn’t be sure he was doing this right. Or that I would accept it.
“I do! Oh, Ben.”
“If it doesn’t fit, you can wear it on a string around your neck. That’s what some people do.”
“I want it on me.” I tried every finger and found it worked best on the middle finger of my right hand. “I’ll get a guard ring to be sure it doesn’t fall off. Oh, Ben.”
“You said that already, about ‘Oh, Ben.’”
“That’s how I feel. I love you, Ben.” Never minding the light, we did another kiss.
The night was perfect. Soft and mild. It was dark, with no moon, which I supposed hadn’t risen yet. The moon had such an erratic schedule, I never could keep track of it.
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” I said.
“I’m not yet. Not for a couple of months.”
“That’s only two!”
“Yeah, that’s what a couple usually is.”
“It’s going to be—what will I do without you?”
“You’ll study hard and get into a college near me.”
“And I’ll have this.” I pressed the ring to my cheek and felt a very slight sharpness where the tiger’s outline was. Not sharp enough to hurt, only to feel. I wondered why they made it that way. Even so, I loved it. Ben gave me the box to keep it in until I could get a guard ring.
He made sure I was safe inside the house before he went to his truck. I watched him drive away and then I locked up. Both Mom and Grandma were upstairs. Neither came to bother me as I stood looking out at the night that was so perfect.
Chapter Nine
Even after I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. Ben loved me. With the ring, we were almost sort of like engaged. How could I not be excited?
Eventually I did drift off, and then I slept late. It was Saturday. Sleeping was the only good thing about not having a job. I might as well take advantage of it.
One more year of high school. A year without Ben. I couldn’t stand it. I knew I would never get into MIT but there were other colleges in the Boston area. I would apply to all of them. Then at least I’d be near him. He said he wanted me near. And I had his ring.
I got up to take another look at it. I’d left the box on my dresser, but now I put it in a drawer to keep it safe. I’d buy a guard ring as soon as I could get to the jewelry store on Monday.
Without Maddie. Even though she was his sister, this was strictly between Ben and me.
After a late breakfast I took Jasper for a walk. We were almost back home when a strange gray car pulled into our driveway. Jasper barked at it.
Mei was in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see the driver, but I knew.
Mei got out and I waved to her. My dad got out on the other side. I ran to him. “Dad! You’re here!”
His eyebrows went up. “You didn’t expect me?”
“I did! But then you—I went over to see you at the Mulvaneys’ house.”
“I heard.”
Mei chimed in. “We had ice keem.”
Dad grinned at her fondly.
He reached into the back seat and brought out a camera case. It was a big, professional-looking one with a strap that went over his shoulder. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s at work,” I said.
“On a weekend?”
“It’s their busiest time.”
“Hmm.” He seemed disappointed. If he wanted to see her, he could have stayed at our house.
Grandma came out, hugged and kissed Dad, hugged and kissed Mei, and invited everyone inside. In just a few minutes she had whipped up a pitcher of iced tea and produce
d a plate of molasses cookies. I didn’t know we had cookies. Where did she keep them?
Dad stood looking out the front window. “What time does she come home?”
“Whenever,” I said. “Usually around eight or nine.”
“People look at houses that late?”
“For some people, it’s the only time they have.”
He peered down the street. “Does Olive Hurlow still live over there?”
Olive’s house was where I used to babysit. “How do you know Olive Hurlow?” I asked.
“I helped her get that house.”
“You—helped—”
“I helped her find it. I didn’t pay for it.”
I had no idea he knew Olive.
“Why don’t you go over and say hello?” I said.
“Maybe sometime. I was hoping to see Peggy.”
That was Mom. I apologized for her not being there, even though it wasn’t my fault. He sat down on the sofa next to Mei and ate a cookie.
I asked, “How come you’re staying with Mrs. Mulvaney? Why not with us? Then you could see Mom.”
“Got some business over there.” He drained his glass. Grandma refilled it. I had my suspicions about what sort of business, but I knew it was useless to ask. I couldn’t get over my weird feeling that it might have something to do with that kid who was murdered. The pieces seemed to fit.
When the cookies were gone, Dad unpacked his camera. He made us go outside and arrange ourselves on the front steps with Grandma in the middle. I held Jasper in my arms.
He took photo after photo, with and without Jasper. With and without Mei. Sometimes without Grandma, sometimes only Mei or me. He had us stand in front of Mom’s flower garden with Riverview Boulevard in the background. I noticed he positioned us so he got in Olive Hurlow’s shabby white house.
With Dad taking pictures, I couldn’t get close to him and talk. My chance finally came when he had to stop and change his film. He actually used film. It wasn’t a digital camera.
He took it inside to keep out as much light as possible. I followed him in and sat on the arm of the sofa.
“So who are those people where you’re staying?” I asked. “Are they any sort of relatives?”
He turned a knob, pulling in the new film. “Relatives? Of mine?”
“Well, mine, too. If they are, I’d like to meet them.”
He said, “What’s around in back there? It’s a hill, if I remember. Is that right? Probably too steep for pictures. What do you think? You’d roll right down.”
“What I’m thinking,” I said, “is I’m wondering why you don’t answer my question. This is such a weird family. Nobody answers anything I ask.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“You don’t. Grandma doesn’t. Mom doesn’t and she’s not even here most of the time.”
He finished adjusting his film and closed the camera. We went outside again and he took us around to the back.
He was right about the hill. It sloped down toward the lower village. It was the same slope the long steps were on, all part of a valley carved eons ago by the Hudson River.
Dad arranged us facing the river with our backs to the house. He had to be careful placing himself because the hill really was steep, so steep the camera had to look up at us. He said it was artistic.
Then it was our turn to pose on the slope with our backs to the river. That didn’t work so well because the sun made a bright glare on the water. He said it was atmospheric. Even after he finished taking pictures, and stored his camera in a corner of the sofa, he managed to avoid answering my questions.
I tried. “Dad, could we talk just a little bit?”
“Sure.” He turned to me with a smile. “Tell me about school. You must be in high school, am I right?”
“More than right,” I said. “I’m a junior. Next year I’ll be graduating and—” I couldn’t tell him I was going to MIT, because I wasn’t, “—and maybe I’ll get married.”
“Good, good. What kind of dog is that?”
“He’s a Brussels griffon.” As if that would mean anything to him. Dad was really good at evading my questions.
He hung around for a long time, probably hoping Mom would show up. I knew he wasn’t doing it for me, and I couldn’t persuade him that she wasn’t likely to show until late in the evening. Meanwhile, Grandma whipped up a lunch of macaroni salad.
It was past six when Dad finally left, saying he had a dinner engagement. After we’d done our goodbye thing, I noticed his camera still on the sofa. How could he forget his precious camera? Maybe he did it on purpose as an excuse to come back when Mom was there.
I didn’t want Grandma getting any ideas about returning it. I had ideas of my own. Before she came in from waving off our guests, I put a pillow over it.
She didn’t notice. Her mind was elsewhere. “You see? Now you can’t say he’s ignoring you.”
“He came to see Mom. I just happened to be here.”
“So did I,” she said. “Do you hear me complaining?”
“But he’s my dad. He took off right after I was born. Some dads like to stick around. Get to know their kids. Watch them grow up. Do the things a dad is supposed to do.”
“Some dads are afraid of babies.”
“I’m not a baby now and he still doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Some dads are afraid of teenage daughters. They don’t know how to relate.”
Stacie’s dad had his own way of relating. If it came to that, I would rather be ignored.
Grandma started clearing away the refreshment things. I was going to help her, but first I grabbed the camera and took it upstairs to my room.
* * * *
The next morning Grandma let me take her car again. All I had to do was get it back by three o’clock for her bingo game. Feeling bashful and unsure, I set off for Hudson Hills.
Why should I feel bashful? He was my father.
Or maybe he really wasn’t. That was hardly the first time I’d had such thoughts. It might explain why he seemed so awkward around me
If he wasn’t my dad, why couldn’t they just say so? I was old enough to deal with it.
The Mulvaneys’ driveway was empty. They might have been at church. I didn’t want to park there and be in the way.
Someone must have been home. The front door was open. Through the screen I could see into a hallway. Again I parked on the street, then went back and rang the doorbell.
I expected Mrs. Mulvaney. Or Mei. I was startled when a guy about my own age answered the door.
He was tall and wiry and sported a white tee that was probably an undershirt, and jeans with holes at the knees. Wavy brown hair grew over his ears, and brown-green eyes glowered at me.
This was unexpected. I gaped and tried to collect my wits. “Are you Liam?”
He had a sort of wide mouth, but not too wide. It opened partway and said, “Who wants to know?”
“Cree Penny. Is my dad here?”
“Penny?”
“Lucretia Penny. They call me Cree. My dad is Jules Penny. He came to this house when we brought him from the airport. Is he here?”
“What do you want him for?”
I returned the scowl. “Who wants to know?”
“Me,” he said.
“And you are?”
“Hey, is he really your dad?”
I batted away a fly that kept trying to land on my arm. We were talking through the screen door, which he refused to open.
“So they tell me,” I said. “I’ve hardly ever seen him, except a few years ago when he came for a couple of weeks. Is he here?”
It was the third time I asked. And finally got an answer.
“No, he’s not. So you can go now.”
“Thanks for the really warm welcome, whoever you are. Tell Dad I stopped by. I brought his camera that he left at our house.”
I unhooked the camera bag from my shoulder. Just then Liam, if that’s who he was, went rigid. He was looking
down the sidewalk. With a ginkgo tree blocking my view, I almost didn’t see them, a trio of guys headed our way.
Liam grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, almost making me drop the camera. “If you know what’s good for you,” he gritted into my ear, “you’ll find someplace to hide and stay quiet.”
“Hide!” That was insane. “Why can’t I just leave?”
“Too late for that. Where’s your car? Not in the driveway!”
“It’s on the street, a little way over.”
He still had hold of my arm, and dragged me down the hall. It happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. In truth, I couldn’t do anything. His grip was strong. I barely saw where we were going, but I recognized a living room as he pulled me through it. Next I saw a dining room coming up, but just before it was a little nook in the wall, with a shelf that made a desk, and a telephone. No room for anything else except a desk chair. He pushed me inside. It had a door, and one tiny window that was closed. The room already felt stuffy.
“Keep. Quiet.” He shut me in.
I heard voices. It must have been those three guys. And Liam. I heard footsteps. They went past my prison. Going to the kitchen, I supposed. One of them asked, “Hey, dude. Got any beer?”
Liam mumbled something. After a moment or two the footsteps came back and settled in the living room. I heard pop tops popping. Another person asked, “How’s it going, dude?” He had a carrying voice. “I heard you got a lawyer all the way from Japan. What’d you tell him?”
How was a lawyer from Japan accredited to practice in the U.S.?
“Nothing.” Liam’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. Not much better. He sounded really nervous.
Where was this lawyer from Japan? They couldn’t mean my dad!
“You’re keeping your mouth shut, right?” said the second voice.
“Why’d you do it?” Liam sounded teary. “Why—why me?”
“He-e-ey, now. It worked out good, didn’t it? Your car.”
I missed a few words but got the important ones. That voice was really forceful. The boss. The capo.
“But why’d you…mumble, mumble.” Liam was not forceful.
“What’d you tell the lawyer guy?”
Mumble, mumble.
Under Cover Page 7
