by Dyan Sheldon
Which would be when I finally spotted Marilouise. She wasn’t anywhere near the balloons and the sparkly hats. She was sitting by herself at a table set for three in the middle of the room. She was all dressed up as if she was going to a wedding – or, possibly, a party. She was wearing a blue-green dress and a corsage of tiny white flowers pinned to one shoulder, and she’d done something to her hair. Or someone had done something to her hair. Usually it was straight and pulled back in a ponytail, but tonight it was piled on her head in a shiny, solid clutch of curls. For a minute, I was really glad that Savanna wasn’t with me. Ohmigod, she would have hissed in my ear. Do you think they’re glued together? And I would’ve laughed – because that’s exactly how they looked. That was the kind of diplomatic, kind person I was. Marilouise’s cell phone was in front of her on the table. She kept glancing down at it.
There was no escape. You could possibly disappoint someone celebrating her birthday with twenty other people, but there was no way you could disappoint someone whose only companion was her phone.
“I’m really sorry I’m late, Marilouise.” I sat down and gave her my biggest smile. “Wow,” I said, “you look really nice.”
“You think so?” Marilouise touched the curls. “My mom treated me for my birthday.” She looked behind me. “Where’s Savanna? I thought you guys were coming together.”
Despite my misgivings, I made myself look right into her eyes. If you’re going to lie to someone, you might as well try to make it look like that’s not what you’re doing.
I explained that Savanna was sick.
“She was fine until about half an hour before I got to her house, and then it all started. It was pretty gross.” Vomiting, fever, aches and pains. I made it sound like the return engagement of the Black Plague. “She wants you to know how gutted she is that she couldn’t make it, but Zelda wouldn’t let her out of the house. I mean, not that she could actually walk as far as the front door. But if she could’ve, Zelda would’ve been blocking her way.”
“Gee…” murmured Marilouise. “Poor Savanna. That sounds awful. I hope it’s nothing serious. Did she call the doctor? There’s always stuff going around at this time of year. What a drag being sick on a Saturday night.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s a real bummer. Especially since she was really looking forward to tonight.” I crossed my fingers so hard it hurt. “She hasn’t talked about anything else all week.”
Marilouise’s eyes darted to her phone. “Do you think we should call her and see how she is? I hate to think of her lying there all by herself while we’re here having a good time. Maybe it would cheer her up.”
“She’ll be sleeping by now.” I wouldn’t say that I was proud of how fast I seemed to be getting the hang of lying, but I was definitely relieved that I had more talent for it than I’d thought. “And I’m pretty sure Zelda took her phone away. So she can’t be disturbed? Anyway, I’m sure she’ll be fine. You know, eventually.” I smiled. Positively. “It’s probably just one of those 24-hour things. Like you said, there’s always a lot of stuff going around at this time of year.”
“Yeah.” Marilouise nodded. “Even my dog’s been sneezing.”
I laughed, looking on the bright side. “Well, at least we have each other.”
Marilouise smiled. Ruefully. “I’m really sorry, Gracie. I mean, it does seem kind of minimal, doesn’t it? Just the two of us.” She looked at the empty place between us. “It’s too bad I didn’t invite Jem after all.”
Maybe it wasn’t too late.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask her now.” The curls moved back and forth on her head like a helmet. “She’d think I only invited her because Savanna couldn’t make it. That would be really mean.”
If there was one thing Marilouise Lapinskye wasn’t (you know, besides sexy and gorgeous and scintillating), it was mean. I bet she never lied, either.
“Here.” I pulled the presents from my bag. “This one’s from me.” The one wrapped in newspaper – the ecologist’s choice. “The one with the bow’s from Savanna.”
Marilouise made a big deal of opening her gifts. She carefully peeled back the tape. She patiently untied the ribbon. She slowly unfolded the paper. She could have opened them blindfolded with a hatchet as far as I was concerned. At least watching her was something to do besides feeling like a creep and wishing the evening was over before it had really started.
She made a major fuss over the earrings. “Look!” She held them up on either side of her head. “They totally match my eyes.” Her eyes were actually much bluer. She made a major fuss over Savanna’s friendship bracelet, too. “If you talk to her before I do, make sure you tell her how much I love it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.” She obviously hadn’t been in the gift shop lately.
Then we pored over the menu for a while.
“Gosh,” murmured Marilouise. “There’s not much for vegetarians, is there?”
Not if you didn’t eat chicken or fish.
“There’s plenty,” I lied. “I think I’ll start with the bruschetta.”
“Are you sure that’s OK?” asked Marilouise. “They have that salad with the avocado and the mozzarella…”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “I love bruschetta. Really.”
“Great.” She gave me one of her nervous smiles. “Is it OK if I get the shrimp cocktail for my appetizer? It won’t gross you out, will it?”
“Of course not.” She could eat raw meat if it made her happy. I wouldn’t care if the blood dripped down her chin. “Have whatever you want.”
“Then I’ll have the shrimp.” Marilouise closed her menu. “And the eggplant. It’s really, really good.” She gave me another nervous smile. “What about you?”
I felt so bad about everything that I went for the eggplant, too – you know, because she was so crazy about it – even though eggplant made me think of slugs.
The meal went slowly. We sat smiling at each other and making polite conversation, surrounded by the noise and hilarity of the other diners like a couple of gulls stranded on a piece of driftwood on an enormous, churning sea.
Every time I opened my mouth, my voice sounded anxious and insincere, so I let Marilouise do most of the talking. She got us through our appetizers talking about school and her dog and stuff like that. Normally, I would have held up my end of the conversation by telling some funny stories or going on about the life and habits of lizards till she begged for mercy, but tonight I didn’t have the heart for funny stories or even lizards. I was feeling really down. Which is what being a heel does to me. All I wanted was to go home and put on an old movie to cheer me up and forget that this night had ever happened. Relax, I told myself. It can’t get any worse.
Which would be an example of famous last words.
Our entrées arrived.
Marilouise smiled down at the casserole the waiter put in front of her. “I know it sounds silly, but I’ve practically been dreaming of this. It is so terrific.”
I stared down at my own casserole. “Yeah, it looks really good.” It looked like lasagne, all bubbling cheese and tomato sauce. I liked lasagne. Maybe it was going to be all right after all.
Marilouise held up a forkful and blew on it a few times. “It’s delicious!” she proclaimed. “It’s even better than I remembered.”
“Um…” Lasagne, I told myself. It’s just like lasagne. I dug in. It was nothing like lasagne underneath. Underneath, it was layers of very large slugs. Sliced and covered in sauce. I cut a tiny piece. I figured that if I kept the pieces really small I’d be able to swallow them whole without having to bite or chew or anything revolting like that. “It’s great.”
“Savanna would be totally grossed out if she was here. One time she came over for supper and my mom made moussaka and Savanna wouldn’t touch it. All she’d eat was the salad.” Marilouise broke a breadstick in half. “She said cooked eggplant reminded her of slugs.”
I smiled. “She’s got a really vivid imagination.”<
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“Tell me about it!” Marilouise laughed the way I would if someone told me that carbon emissions are killing the planet as if it was major news. “She is such a character, isn’t she?” She bit into her breadstick. “I mean, she’s nothing like me. I’m so quiet and shy and everything, but she’s larger than life, isn’t she?”
I said Savanna was pretty much one of a kind.
Marilouise sighed. “To tell you the truth, I was kind of surprised she said she’d come tonight. I mean, this isn’t really her usual scene, is it? Plus she has so many other things to do. And Archie…” Her mouth shrugged. “Sometimes I have the feeling she must think I’m pretty boring.”
“That’s not true. She thinks you’re great.” I stuffed a forkful of eggplant into my mouth so I didn’t have to say anything else – at least not until I’d figured out how to eat it without chewing.
“Well, Savanna isn’t boring, that’s for sure,” said Marilouise. “I guess that’s why I’ve always liked hanging out with her. Because she’s so exciting.” Crumbs lined her smile. “Did I ever tell you about the time we got locked in her attic?”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “I don’t think you did.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t even remember why we went into the attic in the first place. It was a pretty dumb thing to do, really.” I bet I could guess whose idea it had been. “But it was even funnier than the time we were stranded on the lake because Savanna knocked the oars overboard. I mean we were really lucky there were these boys nearby who rescued us.”
What fresh hell was this? I wondered. Was she going to talk about Savanna for the rest of the meal, reliving every fun-filled adventure and hilarious disaster? You know, so it wouldn’t be so obvious that we were two dull girls eating slugs together? At the rate I was swallowing, we were going to be at Anzalone’s till it closed.
I’d caught the Lapinskye nervous laugh. “Never a dull nanosecond.”
Marilouise told me all about the time she and Savanna got locked in the attic. Then she told me all about the time they were stranded on the lake. They were funny stories. And Marilouise told them the way I would have told a funny story about Jackson’s chameleons. With warmth and affection. Which meant that I kept picturing Savanna, sitting with Morgan Scheck at a table that, unlike our table, didn’t feature a candle stuck in an old wine bottle. I wondered if there was any chance that she was thinking of Marilouise and me.
I’m going to die here, I thought. Either I’m going to choke to death on a piece of eggplant or the guilt’s going to kill me…
And then I heard someone call my name. “Gracie! Oy, Gracie!”
I didn’t care if it was Death himself come to get me. I looked up.
Zebediah Cooper, wearing his old fedora and what looked like a WWII aviator’s jacket, was jostling his way between the tables. Archie Snell (dressed like a regular boy) was trotting behind him.
It might have occurred to me that this wasn’t necessarily good news – because now I had two more people to lie to. But I’d never been so happy to see anybody in my whole life. I waved like someone drowning. Thank God! I thought. A distraction!
Cooper came to a stop next to Marilouise. “Happy Birthday, Marilouise.” He took off his hat with a flourish and bowed. “Many glorious returns of the day.”
“Yeah,” echoed Archie. “Happy Birthday, Marilouise.”
“Thanks.” Marilouise giggled and blushed. “How did you know?”
Cooper nodded towards me. “Because Gracie Mooney has a big mouth.”
“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here!” Marilouise’s cheeks were now the colour of a Grand Canyon dawn. “To wish me a happy birthday?”
“One of the reasons,” said Cooper. “The other’s that Archie suddenly realized he’d never see another day if he didn’t get some pizza tonight.” He put his hands on the empty chair in front of him. “You guys still eating? You mind if we sit down?”
“No, please … sit down.” Marilouise pushed her empty plate away. “I’m all done.”
“Me, too.” My plate wasn’t empty, but it was significantly mauled. “I can’t eat another bite. It’s really filling.”
“I’ll finish that, if you want,” volunteered Archie. “I’m starving.”
Cooper grinned at Marilouise. “I must say, you’re looking suitably celebratory and fetching tonight. I really dig the corsage.”
Marilouise did some more blushing. “Thanks.”
Cooper looked over at me. “You look nice, too, Gracie. Kind of post-punk with an ecological theme.”
I wasn’t used to getting compliments from boys, either. I knocked my fork off the table.
“Hey!” Archie was looking around as if he’d only just noticed that it was just Marilouise and me. “Where’s Savanna? I thought she was coming, too.”
In an ideal world, Marilouise would have explained where Savanna was – on the grounds that it’s not a lie if you don’t know it is – but Cooper had gone off on one of his tangents – explaining the history of nosegays and tussie mussies to her – so I was the one who had to explain to Archie about the 24-hour bug and poor Savanna being back at home, feverish and all alone. Missing out on the fun.
“Gee,” said Archie, “that’s too bad. She said I should… I thought she was going to be here.” He looked disappointed.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “So did she.”
“You think I should call her?” He was reaching for his phone. “Tell her I’m sorry she’s sick?”
No, I definitely didn’t think he should do that.
“She’s not well enough to talk,” I said quickly. “Her mom’s fielding all calls.”
Archie was afraid of Mrs Zindle. You know, because she was always yelling at Savanna.
“Oh, right.” He let his phone drop back into his pocket. “I don’t want to bother her if she’s that sick.”
“So,” said Cooper, “now that Archie doesn’t need any pizza, since he’s eaten half Gracie’s dinner, what say we join you two for dessert?” He leaned back in his chair. “Our treat, of course.”
“That’s really nice of you… But we’re going back to my house for dessert. My mom’s made a cake.” Marilouise was blushing again. “I guess you’re probably busy, but you guys could come too, if you want.”
“I don’t know…” Cooper looked at Archie.
“We don’t want to intrude,” said Archie.
“You wouldn’t be,” promised Marilouise. “We were just going to eat our cake and maybe play a game of pool.”
“Pool?” repeated Cooper. “You’ve got your own table?” He winked at me. “She’s not a hustler, is she?”
I laughed. “Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason.”
“What kind of cake did your mom make?” asked Archie.
Chapter Twelve
My Dad Starts Getting Curious and
Savanna Decides She’s in Love
So, after all my anxiety and worry and guilt, it turned out to be a really ace night. We hung out at Marilouise’s till midnight, playing pool and talking. We laughed a lot. Normally when a few of us got together, Savanna was pretty much the centre of the group, but I don’t think any of us actually felt there was anything missing. I definitely didn’t. I felt kind of guilty about that, too, of course, but I know I wasn’t missing Savanna. It wasn’t something I’d have said out loud or anything, but I had the sneaky feeling that I’d had a better time than I would have if Savanna hadn’t abandoned ship. And I had a hunch that Marilouise did, too. Like me, she was a ten-watt bulb next to Savanna’s spotlight – it gave her a chance to shine. Who could have guessed that beneath her quiet, dull surface, Marilouise was really a pool shark with a killer sense of humour?
But I was still pretty glad to get home. Triumphant. I couldn’t wait to talk to Savanna. I figured she was going to be as over the moon as I was. Mission accomplished and everybody happy – even me. And something else. After spending the night with Archie, I was feeling really bad for him. I wanted to tal
k to Savanna about that, too.
The person I didn’t want to talk to right then was Robert Mooney. Since I’d done more lying that night than the spokesman for a lumber company in the Amazon does in a week, I was hoping to get to my room without having to do any more.
I should have known my luck couldn’t last.
My dad was in the living room, reading homework papers. Which means he was waiting up for me in his old-fashioned, caveman way. He raised his head as I shut the door behind me. “Have a good time, honey?”
At least I could start out with the truth.
“Yeah, I did. I had a really good time.” I headed for the stairs. “But I’m beat. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“What about the birthday girl?” asked my dad. “She have a good time, too?”
I grabbed hold of the banister. “Yeah, she had a really good time, too.” I yawned.
But my dad is nothing if not thorough.
“And Savanna?”
I was willing to bet that she’d also enjoyed tonight. Which meant that, technically, I was still telling the truth. “Yeah, she had a really good time, too.”
“So where is she?” He cocked his head like he was listening for something. “I thought she was staying over.”
She was – when we were spending the night together with Marilouise. But I’d been so relieved that things had gone well that I’d forgotten that part. Which meant that I had no excuse ready. Unfortunately. Because I couldn’t tell my father that Savanna hadn’t been with me because he’d want to know why, and (the truth being completely out of the question) there was no way I could say that it was because she was sick. Every Sunday morning my dad rode his bicycle into town for the Sunday paper. And every Sunday morning Mrs Zindle drove her gas guzzler into town for the paper. What if they ran into each other?
