“Ellie, go get Cherry and tell her to come here, please,” said the woman.
Ellie vaulted off the couch and ran down a narrow hallway. I held out my hand. “I should introduce myself again. I’m Elizabeth Lively. I moved into my grandmother’s house on Crooked Road recently. Well, you know that already.”
She smiled nervously, and for a moment I saw how pretty she must have been ten years ago. “I’m Sandy Miller. Welcome to Truhart, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I heard someone gasp and when I turned I saw a flash of long black hair and hunched shoulders. She was trying to make a break for it.
“Cherry! Come back here and see Miss Lively. She wants to talk to you.” There was steel in Sandy Miller’s voice that surprised me. She crossed her hands in front of her chest, preparing for a battle. It made me wonder how many times this scenario had played out.
Turning around, Cherry raised her hands. “Really, Mom, it was no big deal. Lots of kids do it all the time.” Sandy stood stiffly and waited. I could see her bracing for bad news.
With a sinking feeling, I knew what I was going to do before I opened my mouth. I wanted to kick myself. I was a sucker for troubled women!
Turning to Cherry, I smiled with all the sweetness of the box of Lucky Charms on the counter. “Now, Cherry, I think you need to take a little more credit here. I don’t know that many kids who would have done what you did.”
Her eyes dilated. “It was the first time I ever did it, though. I barely knew what I was doing!”
“Cherry,” I said calmly. “Certainly your mother is proud of the fact that you helped out a perfect stranger like me. Sometimes I can be so airheaded! My only excuse is that I’m new here and things are crazy trying to get settled.” I turned to Sandy Miller. “Cherry loaned me the money at the checkout counter when I forgot my credit card. I was so embarrassed and she handed me two dollars when I was short. Her actions kept me from becoming a spectacle.”
I knew it was crazy, but I was doing it for her mother. The poor woman looked like a strong wind—or bad news—would blow her over.
Cherry opened her mouth and shut it several times. “I did? I mean, I did—but, uh—I would have done that sort of thing for any stranger.”
Not a bad recovery. Relief passed over Cherry’s face. But I squinted my eyes and tilted my chin, sending a telepathic message. Don’t think for a moment I am being nice for your sake.
“You left your phone in my cart.” I took it out of my pocket. “And just to show you how much I appreciated all that you did, I wanted to give you back a little extra.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. The girl hesitated. I smiled wider at the pain I was about to inflict. Bribes were excellent things sometimes.
“Consider it my way of passing it forward . . . so to speak!”
“No, that’s all right. The phone is enough for me,” she said.
“Come on, Cherry. You deserve it for that kind of gesture,” Sandy said.
The girl reached out her hand and took the phone and then the money as if it were filthy.
“Thanks,” she said weakly.
Sandy clapped her hands together. “Wow. That’s really nice, Miss Lively.”
“Call me Elizabeth,” I said.
The little girl clutching the stuffed rabbit jumped in front of Cherry. “Hey Cherry! Can we get some ice cream today? Now that you’ve got some money we can finally get a treat like you’ve been talking about since school got out!”
“Ellie, enough already!” said Sandy Miller. “Cherry can do whatever she wants with that money. It’s not for you!”
Cherry looked over at her mom and shrugged her shoulders, “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll take her to the Dairy Cow later today.”
“Fine, but try to leave some for yourself. Just a few weeks ago you were bugging me to buy you a few of those teen-gossip magazines.” She turned to me with a new giddiness in her voice. “You know how teenage girls are. Always following some heartthrob in one of those magazines they love to read.”
Cherry lowered her head with all the misery of one who hoped a sinkhole would open up. I was pleased.
“But Mom,” said Ellie, “she already has magaz—”
Cherry gave her sister a swift kick in the back of her calf. “Go change out of your pajamas, squirt, and we’ll go get some ice cream soon.” The little girl was distracted by the promise and ran off happily.
“Well, I should be going. I have to drop some dry cleaning off at Colony Cleaners,” I said loudly. I was wicked. “Although someone was fiddling with the sign last night and it looks pretty funny this morning. . . .”
“You are certainly responsible about returning things,” Sandy said.
I sent her a lopsided smile. “That’s me, the queen of returning things.”
I moved toward the front door and noticed a brochure for makeup sitting on the table near the door. “Oh, I have one of those brochures too. Are you going to a makeup party?”
“Well, no, actually. I just started selling makeup on the side.” She put a hand to her chest. “I always used to tell myself I could never sell home-based products. But times are hard and even with extra shifts at the Sherriff’s Department I feel like I’m constantly scraping by.”
“Have you worked at the Sheriff’s Department long?”
I had no intention of bringing up our mutual acquaintance, “Officer Hard-ass,” as Cherry called him. But I was curious. Officer Hardy hadn’t mentioned the run-in at the Family Fare to Cherry’s mother. Maybe he would have given Cherry a warning instead of arresting her after all.
Sandy was still talking. “Sometimes I work more than I’d like. But Sheriff Howe is in Arizona, and another receptionist is on sick leave. J. D. needs extra support and I owe him a lot. But it’s hard. I always worry about the girls when school is out. Ellie loves to hang out at the office, but Cherry has been on her own a lot lately. But with the economy and bills . . .” her voice trailed off when she realized Cherry was listening.
“Oh, I understand,” I added. I thought of the broken washing machine and my own limited budget. “You know, I could use a makeup consultation.” So much for my bank account.
“Really?” Sandy reached over for a large brochure. “If you host a party you can receive twenty dollars of free products and ten percent of the profit. I haven’t actually had any volunteers who will host a party for me . . . my friend Carla gets all the clients, it seems. But she’s the one who got me involved in this line. It would be great if you could be my starting client!”
“I would love to.” Glancing over at Cherry, who looked more miserable by the second, I smiled, ready to pounce. “Speaking of making money, I might be in need of a little help around the house. I’m afraid it was vacant for quite some time . . . the weeds have taken over. If your mom is okay with it, I would love to pay you to help for a few hours, Cherry.” I stared at Cherry and enunciated the last words carefully.
“That sounds fine with me,” Sandy said.
I leaned forward. “I think it would be worth your time.”
“I wanna help too.” Ellie was dressed already and hopped into the room.
Before her mother or sister could protest, I reached out and clapped Ellie’s hand in victory. “Perfect!”
Ellie wiggled her hips. Excitement danced in her eyes. This little one was a heart-stealer.
Cherry was a different story. Utter despondency dragged her face down.
But her mother didn’t notice. She was too excited about the possibility of her first break in the world of home-based beauty products. “Oh, Cherry is great around the house. Helps me clean all the time.” I tried not to glance at the dirty dishes in the sink. “Just call and let her know when you need her.”
A few moments later, I hopped down the front step. I had the girl right where I wanted her. Cherry Miller was going to think twice before she hid magazines in her armpit again!
“That’s a funny elf in the front yard,” said Ellie two days later.
It was the first hot day of the summer and even I wished I had postponed working today. A book, a lawn chair, and a fan would have been heaven.
“Thanks. My grandmother used to buy me a small gnome every summer.”
“Where are the rest?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” In a landfill, probably.
“Cherry collects beads. If I’m careful, she lets me sort them with her. She even gives me ones she doesn’t want anymore.” I paused in front of a stack of papers, feeling surprisingly envious. Alexa and I had never had the kind of relationship Cherry and Ellie had.
I had asked Grandma to buy Alexa a female gnome too, that first visit. All summer I imagined the two of us curled up on the floor, making up stories about our gnomes. When I returned to Toledo and proudly presented the tiny lady to my sister, she had burst into tears and complained bitterly that it wasn’t fair. She had told Grandma she wanted an American Girl doll.
My parents bought her two the following week.
“I’ll bet that’s a beautiful bead collection,” I said, trying to forget my sister.
While Cherry yanked the weeds with a ferocity that would have impressed her mother, Ellie had chatted nonstop all afternoon. She told me all about her school and her friends and how she planned to meet them at the public beach on the Fourth of July.
“J. D. says I can ride in the police car in the Labor Day parade if I want to.”
I bit my lip, weighing the urge to hear more about J. D. “That will be fun for you. Is J. D. going to let you work the siren?”
“Oh, J. D. won’t be driving. Bob will. J. D. says if he is in the parade, people will probably throw tomatoes at him. But everyone likes Bob.”
“I don’t,” Cherry mumbled.
“That’s because he likes Mom and you can’t stand anyone who wants to take Dad’s place.”
“Shut up!” Cherry said, before moving away to tackle a weed that I was pretty sure was a wildflower.
Ellie was still talking, unfazed by her sister’s outburst. “It won’t be the first time I’ve rode in a sheriff’s car, you know. J. D. used to let me and Cherry play in the empty police cars behind the station all the time. I still like to do it, but it isn’t much fun playing cops and robbers without Cherry.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, J. D. and Cherry are always arguing and she seems too interested in trying to be with the cool kids this summer. Cherry won’t come by the sheriff’s office anymore. “
“That’s not why I don’t go,” Cherry mumbled.
“Well, it’s true. Everyone’s always arguing there, anyway. You should have seen it the other day. Mrs. Bloodysomething—you know, the mayor’s wife—got so mad at J. D. that she said she was going to quit her job running the Timberfest.”
“Really?” As I put a stack of papers by the screen door, I thought about the file cabinets she wanted to unlock. Cherry crouched outside the back corner and rolled her eyes as her sister chatted away, moving on to a new subject.
“You know that place in this newspaper?” Ellie pointed to an advertisement for BOOTIES in big block letters. I bit my lip, as I stared at an image that belonged in a men’s magazine.
Cherry looked over at her sister as if she was the most annoying human on the planet.
“My friend Sarah’s sister tried to get a job there last spring. But she said they wouldn’t hire her ’cause her cha-chas are too small! Isn’t that funny, Elizabeth? Why do you think they had to be bigger?”
“Ellie! Enough about cha-chas. That’s a stupid thing to call them anyway,” said Cherry.
“What am I s’posed to call them? Boobies?”
I smothered a laugh.
Cherry stood up and rubbed her lower back. “Technically, they are breasts, Ellie. Mom says you should call the parts of the body by their accurate name.”
“Well, that’s not half as fun a word as cha-chas or kahunas. What do you think, Elizabeth?”
Cherry rolled her eyes. “Ellie, I am going to stuff your mouth full of weeds. You’ve talked constantly since we got here.”
“I’m just asking a question.” Ellie stuck out her tongue at her big sister.
“I think your mom is right,” I said before they escalated the argument, then looked over at Cherry and took pity. “If you’re finished with that, Ellie, I have some popsicles in the freezer. You can grab one and sit out here with it if you want.”
Ellie skipped off to the kitchen, returning moments later to plop down on the plastic lawn chair that was the only piece of furniture on the porch. She swung her feet back and forth, loudly smacking on the popsicle.
“Cherry, I need some help sweeping out the garage, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. I can’t wait to follow another one of your commands, Miss Lively.”
I hid my smile. Never had a shoplifter been so punished. Perhaps next time Cherry would give herself up to J. D. Hardy. I was pretty sure she was thinking that the punishment might not fit the crime, especially if J. D. intended to deal lightly with the girl like I was beginning to suspect he would have. The more I was learning about him from Ellie, the more I realized he was too fond of the girls to have locked Cherry up in a cell. A drop of perspiration wandered down my backside. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of J. D. Hardy that made me hot, or simply the weather.
Cherry followed me, kicking the largest stones in her path as she trudged along. When we reached the garage, out of Ellie’s earshot, I turned around and crossed my arms in front of me. “I know you would love to hit me with one of those stones you’re kicking, Cherry. So let’s just say what’s on our minds, shall we?”
“Just like an old person. You guys always want to have big discussions and talk about things.” She reached for the broom against the wall and began to swipe it back and forth as if she was sweeping a hole to China.
I stared at her back. “Don’t want to talk? Fine—you sweep and I’ll talk.”
Cherry ignored me.
“I think your sister’s cute.... Your mom’s really nice too,” I said brightly.
Dust motes filled the air and danced in a stream of sunlight. Cherry moved the broom spastically, adding to the frenzy.
“I don’t know your friends, but they sure know some funny pranks. Was that your idea to take the Y off Colony Cleaners or theirs?”
Cherry increased her vigor with the broom as if she were purposely attempting to sweep the dust upward . . . toward me. I couldn’t help but admire the girl’s spunk. But I was cautious.
“Of course, most kids don’t even know what a colon is . . . they don’t mention colons much in teen magazines.”
“They don’t mention them much in your reading material either, I’d say. Fifty Fangs of Grey seems like it would be focused on other parts of the body.”
“Well, I haven’t read too many books like that, so I wouldn’t know.”
“I doubt that,” Cherry mumbled.
I put my hands in the pockets of my cutoff jeans and crossed one leg over the other. “It was my first vampire romance.”
“You know vampires were for kids first. It’s just another thing old people stole.”
“Some people back in Bram Stoker’s era might disagree.”
“Whoever!” she said in that irritating teen-speak.
“You have a point, though. Stealing things isn’t good, is it?”
Cherry swept the carcass of a dead bug toward my feet. But I stepped aside and walked over to lean against the side of the garage-door opening.
I gazed out at the road. “Officer Hardy wasn’t happy with me for covering for you.” Cherry’s eyes opened wide as if she were surprised by my candor. “I’m not usually so impulsive, but he and I don’t seem to get along too well.”
“I think he was madder at me than he was at you.”
“Oh, I know he was. He looked like he wanted to arrest you tons more than me.” Cherry paused for a moment. “What did you do to get on his bad side?”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I suppose it had something to do with the fact that I tried to clobber him with a soup ladle once. It was a misunderstanding. After that, he just seemed to make up his mind that I was public enemy number one.”
She was staring at me now, as if I had just gone up a notch in her estimation. “Welcome to my world,” Cherry said, nodding her head. “If you’re number one on his wanted list, I’m number two.”
“Somehow I think he would have arrested me if he could. But I have a feeling he would have given you just a warning. Your mom works with him, right? So why didn’t he say anything to her about what happened?”
“I don’t know. Probably just to torment me. I’m sure he plans to hold it over my head for the next ten years. Kind of like bribery, you know? Sound familiar?”
I ignored her jibe. “Well, if a failed attempt at shoplifting is all he has on you, then consider yourself lucky.”
“I can’t believe you mentioned Fifty Fangs of Grey to him!”
I felt the heat rise up my neck. Every time I read about the vampire with dark good looks and bulging muscles, I pictured J. D. Hardy. I tried hard to insert Hugh Jackman as Wolverine into my imagination. But it didn’t work.
“Fifty Fangs or not, it was shabby of me. But not as funny as the one about the bargain-size box of tampons. How old are you, anyway?”
“Fourteen, almost fifteen. And it’s not like I’ve never heard about how the body works or anything, Miss Lively. We get sex ed in school these days, you know.”
“Wow, school sure has changed since I last stepped inside one. We never learned anything like that,” I said with exaggerated speech. Cherry’s lips quivered and I saw a smile twist at the corner of her mouth. Maybe my little shoplifter wasn’t so tainted by life that she didn’t have a sense of humor. “And call me Elizabeth. Miss Lively makes me feel like my moth—well, never mind.”
Skinny Dipping Season Page 7
