I put Rosie in the stroller in front of the house. I was just starting to push her when I saw Jake’s Ford Fairlane coming down the street. I couldn’t hide so I just stood there hoping he wouldn’t see me. The car went roaring by and then stopped in the middle of the street.
Jake rolled down the window. “I didn’t want to drive by without saying hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
He drove away. I didn’t have to take my alternative route so I walked right by Jake’s house. Sam and Sally were sitting on the front steps. Great. I didn’t know what to do so I waved. Sam waved back and I thought I saw a little wave from Sally. Maybe she was starting to thaw. I wondered if she missed our conversations as much as I did.
Rosie and I spent an hour at the park. I pushed her home in the stroller and got her ready for bed. We sat down with our pile of books. Really, there was something so sweet about her when she sat on my lap while I read to her. At eight o’clock, I put Rosie into her crib. She gave me a big hug before she lay down. Maybe I would babysit more often.
I planned to watch TV until Aunt Florence and Uncle Mike got home. I went out to the kitchen to get some root beer and potato chips. The front door bell rang. Who could that be? I looked out the front window. Jake and Mike were standing there.
I opened the front door. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to say hi. Aren’t you going to let us in?” Jake said. They had opened the screen door.
“No, you can’t come in.” I stood in front of them.
“I thought we were friends, Colette.” Jake smiled his great smile.
At least he didn’t call me Sport. “I guess we’re friends,” I said.
“Good. I thought so.” Jake came into the living room and I moved out of the way because I didn’t want to push him. Jake and Mike looked around. I felt uncomfortable because Sally was the only person who had ever come babysitting with me.
“I’m not supposed to have people over when I...” I said.
Jake interrupted me with, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“What exactly do you want?”
“Nothing.” He motioned to Mike and the two of them sat down.
I thought, then why are you here? I didn’t sit down. I had nothing to say to either of them. “Aunt Florence will be back soon. In fact, they’re on their way right now.” I crossed my arms.
“Okay, I get the idea. You don’t want your aunt coming home and finding us here.”
“Right.”
The inside screen door was still open. Jake and Mike started walking toward it. Jake stopped and turned around. “By the way, where’s the liquor cabinet?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Let’s see, it’s usually in the dining room.” Jake walked into the dining room. “Here it is, just like I said.” He opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “Whiskey. Good,” he said.
“What are you doing?” I said. I wanted to yell but I knew I’d wake up Rosie. “Get out.”
“Mike, go get me some water, will you?” Mike hadn’t moved from the living room. He did now. People tended to obey Jake.
“I said get out,” I said.
“We will in a minute, Sport. Don’t worry.” Jake looked into the kitchen. “Mike, that jar by the sink will be perfect. Bring a glass of water too.” Aunt Florence made jams and jellies so she always had jars in the kitchen.
I tell you, my face was burning. It wasn’t from embarrassment. I was mad, really mad.
Mike went out to the kitchen and came back with an empty jar and a glass full of water. Jake grabbed the jar, poured some of the whiskey into it, and then screwed on the cover. Then he poured the water into the bottle until it was at the exact place that it had been with the whiskey in it. “Perfect,” he said.
I stared at both of them in disbelief. “It isn’t perfect,” I yelled. “I told you to get out,” I yelled even louder. I heard crying but it didn’t register for a minute. “I’m going to tell my aunt you did this,” I screamed.
“I don’t think you will,” Jake said. “It’s our little secret.” He held his finger up to his mouth.
Rosie was crying really hard by this time. I had to go get her. Jake and Mike walked out the door. I think Jake said thanks, Sport, before I slammed the door.
Rosie stood in her crib with tears running down her face. She put her arms up for me and I picked her up. “Shh, it’s okay. We’ll go look at books again until your mom and dad get home.”
I had to check to make sure the whiskey was put away. It was back in the cabinet already and the glass of water was by the sink. I put Rosie down on the floor and she started crying again. I rinsed out the glass and put it upside down in the drying rack. “Rosie, hang on,” I said. They had taken a jar so I had to put another one by the sink. Aunt Florence had all her jars in the pantry next to her wonderful jams. I didn’t know if the jar had been upside down with a cover on top but that’s what I did. It was going to have to do.
I picked up Rosie and brought her back to the living room. We looked at all her favorite books. I wrapped her blanket around her and pretty soon she had calmed down. She was still sucking her thumb when Aunt Florence and Uncle Mike came home.
“What happened?” Uncle Mike asked. He picked Rosie up. “Were you crying?”
“She was,” I said.
“Why?” Aunt Florence asked.
I should have told her why. That Jake and his weird buddy, Mike, came into the house, sat in the living room even though I told them to leave, and then stole some of Uncle Mike’s whiskey. Instead I just sat there and said, “I don’t know. I thought maybe she had a bad dream.”
“Maybe. Oh, poor little Rosie.” Aunt Florence took Rosie from Uncle Mike.
I hadn’t noticed the dirt on the floor earlier. Jake and Mike must have had dirt on their shoes when they came in. There was some on the floor in front of the liquor cabinet. Uncle Mike saw me looking at the dirt. He went into the dining room and stood by the liquor cabinet. He opened the door of the cabinet and closed it. He walked into the kitchen. He came back into the living room, rubbing his chin. “Was someone here?”
“Uh. No,” I said.
“Where did the dirt come from?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t dare breathe. Uncle Mike was one of my favorite people and now he was locking his eyes with mine. I had to look away. “C’mon, Colette. I’ll take you home.”
I wanted to get out of there. Uncle Mike was usually talkative when he drove me home. We sat in the car saying nothing until we got to my house. “Are you sure nothing happened?” Uncle Mike asked.
He knew something was wrong. Jake was right. I wasn’t going to tell on him. “No, not that I know of.”
“Okay. We’ll see you later then.”
I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough and evidently Uncle Mike felt that way too because he sped off as soon as I opened the door of my house. My mom looked up from the couch. “Good,” she said. “Carol Burnett is just starting.”
“I think I’m going to bed, Mom.”
“How was babysitting?”
“Fine. It was fine.”
“Okay. You’ve had a long day. See you tomorrow.”
I trudged upstairs. I didn’t know what Uncle Mike was thinking but he wasn’t buying the bad dream story. He was probably talking to Aunt Florence right now.
One thing was certain. Jake was a jerk; a total jerk. The farther I stayed away from him the better.
Chapter Seventeen
Bad News Travels Fast
The next morning was Sunday so we went to nine o’clock Mass. I sat next to Gramps. He said the prayers, sang along with the choir, and patted my knee about ten times during Mass. We went out to breakfast at the Diner. I kept thinking about Jake taking the whiskey. I wondered if Uncle Mike would figure out that it had been tampered with.
“Your softball team is doing well,” my dad said. “It is,” I said.
“Do you think you’ll go to Lake C
ity?”
“Maybe.”
“I mean for the championship,” my dad said.
“I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Dad. I just don’t have a lot to say today.”
“Sometimes a girl needs to think,” Gramps said. He took a big bite of his pancakes smothered with butter and syrup.
“That’s right, Gramps,” I said. I could usually count on Gramps being on my side. The way he said that I needed to think could mean a couple of things. That I just wanted quiet; unlikely because I loved to talk about everything or he knew something was bothering me big time. That was probably the case but I wasn’t going to say anything because then I would have to tell him what was bothering me.
Ever since my fight with Sally, Gramps had tried to get me to talk to him. So had my mom. I couldn’t tell them how I had been part of a big lie to Mrs. Reynolds. I couldn’t tell them that I knew about stealing from Musolf’s and I had said nothing even though Mr. Musolf was Gramp’s best friend. I really couldn’t tell them about Uncle Mike’s whiskey being watered down because Aunt Florence and Uncle Mike wouldn’t want me babysitting anymore. I should have kept Jake from coming into their house.
My mom said that good news traveled fast in our town but bad news traveled like a lightning bolt. I didn’t have to wonder about the bad news part because the phone was ringing as we walked into the house. It was Aunt Florence. My mom kept saying “I see” and “No, she didn’t say anything” while looking at me. I went upstairs, put a Chicago album on my record player, and lay on the bed. I had a sick feeling that the phone call had something to do with last night.
“Colette, come downstairs, will you?” My mom yelled.
“Colette,” my dad yelled. This was going downhill fast. I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to do. I didn’t wonder for long. I heard a knock at my door a second before my dad opened it. “Please turn off your music and come downstairs,” my dad said quietly. “We have some questions for you.”
“I’ll be right there.” I took the needle off the record, shut off the record player, put my record in its jacket, and then laid it on the shelf underneath. My dad didn’t move. He waited until I crossed in front of him and then he followed me.
My mom sat in the living room. Gramps was nowhere to be seen. “Sit down,” my mom said. She motioned to the big chair that Gramps usually sat in. My mom and dad sat down on the couch. “Florence had some interesting things to say about last night,” my mom said.
I swallowed. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“What did she say?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute. Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
My dad held his hand up. “Let me try, Gemma,” he said. “Honey, we’re your parents and we only want the best for you.” He had his hands on his lap. His voice was quiet. I leaned forward so I didn’t miss a word. “Mike noticed dirt on the floor; some was in front of his liquor cabinet. His whiskey bottle was in a different spot and the cap was loose. He tasted it and he said it was watered down. Do you know anything about that?”
“No. No, I don’t.” I looked down at the floor. I had never lied to my parents or Gramps. How did Jake know that I would lie for him?
“Well, we’re not getting the truth obviously,” my dad said. He stood up and paced. “Let’s try again. Mike said the whiskey was watered down. You were the only one there. Or were you?” My dad stopped in front of my chair.
I squirmed. “I was.”
“What happened to the whiskey?”
I thought I might as well get it over with. “I took it,” I said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know why.”
“Where did you get the idea?”
“Kids at school. Some said that they took liquor from their parents, added water to it, and their parents had no idea. So that’s why I did it.”
“Just because kids at school were doing it?”
“Yes, that’s why.”
“I never thought of you as being a follower. We’ll have to keep a much closer eye on you,” my mom said. She stood next to my dad; a real united front. “We’ll tell you your punishment later. In fact, you can go.”
“Where’s the whiskey now?” My dad asked.
“What do you mean?” I squirmed again.
“I mean, what did you do with it? Did you drink it?”
“No.” I was starting to panic. I was afraid I’d tell the whole story. Then my babysitting career would be done forever. And worse than that, people at school would call me a tattletale. “Actually, I took a taste of it and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. So I dumped it out.” My head was aching. “Can I go?” I asked.
“Go ahead,” my mom said. “I’m not going to tell you how disappointed we are or how once you lose trust in somebody, it’s hard to get it back. We’ll talk about that later. By the way, Florence, Mike, and Rosie are coming for dinner.”
Great. I’ll have two more people staring at me and asking me questions. Maybe I should just sit in the middle of the table with the rump roast or whatever we were having. Then everyone could gape at me while Aunt Florence said, “Tsk, tsk.”
This was becoming one of the worst weekends of my life. The very worst in my life was after Gramps had a stroke and we thought we were going to lose him. It was horrible being in the hospital and not knowing what was going to happen. Another one was when Sally decided that I was the reason why Jake wasn’t her date. I didn’t know if we would ever be able to fix it because she hadn’t talked to me in two months. I’d like to tell her that she was lucky she wasn’t Jake’s date because she’d be in as much trouble as me.
My body felt heavy like something was pushing me down. I had nobody I could talk to about it. Sally was out as a confidant and Suzy was really nice but she didn’t really know my family. She didn’t know about Aunt Florence and her son, Daniel, who was twenty one years old. And she didn’t know about my Uncle Daniel, who had died in the Korean War. She didn’t know how much I loved my Gramps, how I had the coolest dad ever, and how my mom had never lied to me about anything.
Chapter Eighteen
Consequences
I lay down on my bed and went to sleep. There was knocking at the door, right before it was opened.
“Colette. Wake up,” my dad said. “It’s three in the afternoon.”
My mom was standing there too. I sat up on the bed.
“We might as well get right to it.” My dad was very serious. “Your mother and I are in agreement that there has to be some consequences. I mean, I know that kids drink and party and do all kinds of things.”
I just sat there. I didn’t know if I should agree or disagree or respond at all.
“You’re only fourteen and a half and because of that, we have to be sure this doesn’t happen again. You’ve got three years left in high school. So...”
I had never been grounded. I wondered how long it was going to be.
“You’re grounded for three weeks. This is how we came up with it. I said a month because of the fact that you stole from your uncle in such a sneaky way.” He ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “Your mother said two weeks so we compromised.”
THREE WEEKS. That’s a little excessive, I should say. My dad was rambling on and on. I didn’t even hear him anymore.
“I said do you have any questions?” My dad asked. “What about softball?”
“I’m sorry, you’re grounded.”
“What? I can’t play!” I was standing now. “That’s not fair.” I looked over at my mom. “Mom, do you agree that I can’t play?”
“Talk to your father. I’m sorry.”
“I think I’ll just stay up here. I’m not hungry anyway.” I had to think about this whole big mess. Maybe I’d tell them that I didn’t want to work at the store anymore. “Please go,” I said.
My mom started saying something and then clo
sed her mouth. They both walked out of the room. I didn’t exactly slam the door but I closed it with a bang. I went over to my records and looked at them. I put three Beatle’s records on the spindle and one of them dropped onto the turntable. I turned it up loud, really loud. Usually that would bring a knock on the door from my mom but nothing happened so I turned it up louder. No knock. Good. I sang along.
I still didn’t know if I was going to sit at the dining room table with Uncle Mike and Aunt Florence. On the other hand, I couldn’t just sit up in my room for three weeks. THREE WEEKS. I almost wished that I had done something so the punishment didn’t seem so unfair.
The second record was just about done when I heard a knock at the door. “What?” I shouted. The door opened. I expected my mom but instead it was Aunt Florence holding Rosie. Rosie held her hands over her ears. I turned off the music.
“Rosie was looking for you, Colette,” Aunt Florence said.
“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“Well, I’m glad you said what happened.”
“Yes.”
Rosie reached for me and I took her. I gave her a hug. She put her head on my shoulder.
“Where did you dump the whiskey?” Aunt Florence
asked. “I mean after you had a sip.”
“Um. In the backyard.”
“Our backyard?”
“Oh, yeah. Your backyard.”
Aunt Florence seemed puzzled. Then she smiled.
“Maybe I should ask Mike to go sniff around in the backyard.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad because I don’t think you drank some whiskey and threw the rest in our backyard. Oh, and then you filled the bottle with water. That about right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, Colette. You can talk to me when you’re ready to.”
On the one hand, I was glad that Aunt Florence didn’t believe that I stole Uncle Mike’s whiskey but I had been punished and that wasn’t going to change.
It Starts With a Lie Page 7
