“You’re still working with Officer Weston, aren’t you? Until the big reunion?”
“I thought so, too. Miss Honeycutt had an impressive list for us to cover—cocktail nibbles, holiday punch bowls, invitations to dance—but yesterday Officer Weston called to inform me that he’d decided he was polite enough. He said that saving me at the luncheon reminded him that life is short and that maybe he needed to rethink his priorities.”
Jack handed a perfectly browned marshmallow to Miss Melton-Mowry, who stared at it, clearly wondering what to do next.
“Why, thank you, Jack. Speaking of Officer Weston,” she continued, “I thought it might be nice to hold a little reunion in a week or so. I was thinking of inviting him, along with you and—”
“I might be busy,” I said. Even lying in my Indian sweat lodge was more important than being back in the Melton-Mowry School of Poise and Purpose.
“You, Mr. Bean and…Miss Glennon.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Would you let her bring Feathers?” I asked. “I happened to learn during polite conversation that Officer Weston is very curious about long-tailed rodents.”
“For a private event, I would consider making an exception to the no-dander rule.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar, but I might be able to work you in. If I’m not Frisbee golfing, that is.”
Mom was giving me a look that, for the record, was hard to read in firelight. But I think I got it. “Thank you for the invitation, Miss Melton-Mowry,” I said.
Dad took the skewer out of Miss Melton-Mowry’s hand. “I think we have the fixings for s’mores in the house, Miss Melton-Mowry. I will be happy to share the etiquette of eating one if you’ll follow me. Come on, Mags. Let’s leave these two to their plans,” he said. Taking Mom’s hand, Dad pulled her up.
“Congratulations, sweetie.” Mom kissed the top of my head. “See? Your karma isn’t so bad after all.”
I waited until I’d heard the screen door shut before I said, “You knew all this time and you didn’t tell me?”
“I was sworn to secrecy!” Jack protested. “Your dad made me spit-swear.”
“So…that’s really what you’ve been saving up for?”
Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet.
“You have a wallet now, too?”
“I wanted one for these.” He fanned a wad of tickets in front of me. “All the way to Osceola, Minnesota. We’ll have to take a bus to Britt from there.”
“Or hitchhike.”
“Not sure your dad will be on board for hitchhiking. Want me to make you a marshmallow?”
“Maybe just one more.” I lay back on the grass; it was a perfectly clear night and you could see the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and a million more stars I didn’t know the names of.
“Jack?” Pushing myself up on my elbows, I asked him, “Is that really what you want to spend your money on? You’re not just doing it…for me, are you?”
“Are you kidding me? This will be sweet. Your great-grandma even picked your dad to go with us. We’ll get way more train snacks with him.”
“True. Maybe you are the same Jack I knew last summer. So now you’ve got the tickets, will you stop doing odd jobs for the Bensons?”
“Nope.”
“Because that’s how you get to hang around with Bree,” I said, even though I knew it took me dangerously close to ruining another perfect summer night.
Jack removed the marshmallow from his skewer and handed it to me. “You might as well know, Cass. I asked Bree to be my girlfriend…. ”
Fortunately, a mouthful of marshmallow kept me from answering right away.
“But she said no…she said…I already had one.”
I swallowed. “There’s another one? Geez, how many lawns can you mow in one day?”
“She meant you, Cass.”
“Jack Taylor!” I got to my feet and tackled him, ending up on his stomach with his arms pinned to his sides. He didn’t even fight back. “Don’t ever say anything like that again.”
“She said all this wrestling that we do…how we finish each other’s sentences…how we…watch out for each other; it’s what guys and girls do when they—”
“Don’t say it. I’ll spit in your face! I swear I will.”
“What do you want me to say, then? ‘Uncle’?”
“Don’t say that, either.” I rolled off Jack and lay on my back in the grass. “Let’s think for a minute.”
We crossed our legs and arms, trying to think our way out of this mess.
It was me who broke the silence. “You never say ‘uncle.’ If you do now, that means you’ve changed; I don’t want you to change.”
“But we have changed, Cassidy. You’re eleven-teen and I’m…I’m almost twelve-and-a-half-teen.”
I didn’t have a comeback for that. Stargazing can come in handy when you’re at a loss for words. “There must be something that stays the same. Forever.”
“ ’Course there is. Stars don’t change. At least not for a million years. The Grand River. You and me.”
“You and me?”
Jack reached over, grabbed my hand and held it, giving me the perfect opportunity to twist his wrist, bend his arm back and put him in a reverse chinlock.
But I didn’t do it.
“You heard me. You and me.” He squeezed my hand, but not too hard.
“Jack-Cass Inc.”
About the Author
SUE STAUFFACHER has been etiquette-challenged most of her life, but her family lets her eat with them anyway. Sue’s novels for young readers include Harry Sue and Donuthead, which Kirkus Reviews called “touching, funny, and gloriously human” in a starred review. Young readers will also enjoy her picture books about plucky real-life heroines, including Tillie the Terrible Swede and Nothing but Trouble, which won the NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work for Children. Sue lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, with her family and various pets. To learn more about Sue and her books, visit her at suestauffacher.com.
Cassidy's Guide to Everyday Etiquette (and Obfuscation) Page 24
