Damn it all! Why hadn’t I put them away?
“Well, will you get a load of these,” Veronica breathed, picking them up and thumbing through them. She darted a wary glance at Samantha. “Now don’t freak out again—this is what you’ve been hiding? Check out his eyes! Hate to admit it, but these pics are gorgeous.” She plopped down on the corner of the bed, her gaze glued to one particular photograph in her hand. Samantha’s favourite. “And this one is quite impressive. Fess up, twerp. Who’s the hottie?”
“His name’s Ben, if you must know,” Sam said with a deep sigh of resignation. “I’m sure you’ll be meeting him soon enough.” She yawned again, pulling on her denim cutoffs. “Here’s the hair dryer. Now get out of here.” She grabbed the photos out of her sister’s hands. “Don’t wanna be late on your first day, do ya?”
Veronica giggled and made a face. “Yes, Nana.” She headed for the hall, then stopped in the doorway. “How about you, Sam? You are going to look for a job, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know…I guess.”
“Beats moping around here,” Veronica said, sounding uncharacteristically sympathetic. “Want me to ask if they have any spare hours for you? At the store, I mean.”
Hmm…why is she trying to be nice to me now? Or need I wonder? “Not on your life.” Samantha shuddered, the thought of dealing with all the strange and demanding townie customers making her insides quake. “I would rather find something else. Anything else.”
While making banana pancakes for breakfast, she spied the empty wine bottle under the sink. That hadn’t been there yesterday, she thought. Her mother must have drunk it when she got home from her shift. And that was when? About half past three in the morning?
Samantha shook her head, thinking of her mother sleeping it off in her bedroom. Darlene’s drinking had grown more frequent, more like daily, since the big breakup. Boozing alone, pathetically numbing herself with cheap red wine. I guess she’s found her own way to cope, Samantha thought, pushing her plate away, her breakfast half-eaten.
Her father’s absence left a gaping hole in her life as she knew it. Despite the problems and all of the arguments, a part of Samantha still wished he would come home and somehow change things back to the way they used to be, when her parents were in love. Magically return them all to happier times when making a living in the Cove had been arduous but attainable, when fish were plentiful, when life in the tiny fishing community was bustling with abundance and activity. She yearned to see her mother’s winsome smile again, and not have to watch her schlep herself off to work at night to a job she didn’t really like, in a city she’d never wanted to live in.
In vain, she tried to push away the horrible knowledge of her daddy’s brief fling last winter. In hindsight, she realized her father’s dalliance with the local postmistress had only been a stepping stone out of his crumbling marriage. As soon as Darlene had learned of it, she’d kicked him out, but by that time he had been only too glad to leave.
Her father hadn’t called in about a week, likely too busy working and getting settled in himself. He had promised to try and make it home to see her and Veronica at Christmas, but that seemed too far away to think about now.
Ben intruded back in her thoughts. Where had his mother moved? Had she stayed in Mount Pearl, or left town, or Newfoundland altogether? What had happened to his parents? They must have fallen out of love like hers, she speculated. Did Ben bear the scars of a messy breakup like she did? She wondered if he would talk to her about it if she asked. Maybe, if they became better friends, he might open up to her.
Samantha envied Veronica for her carefree outlook. When their father had moved out, her sister had said, “Good riddance,” and, “It’s about time.” But did she mean it? Did she really not care, or was it all an act? Veronica never seemed to let life bother her like it did Samantha. She said C’est la Vie, and that was that. Why couldn’t that be her attitude?
The inevitable meeting between Ronnie and Ben occurred that afternoon. In a rash attempt to quell a particularly sharp pang of loneliness, Samantha went to meet her sister as she finished her shift at the convenience store a couple of blocks away. I must be totally desperate to seek out Ronnie’s companionship, she thought with a wry grin.
“Well, if it isn’t Sammie,” Veronica said when she saw her, her cheerful face lifting Samantha’s mood in spite of herself. “Let’s go downtown for a gawk around before we go home. What do you think?”
Samantha fell in step alongside her sister on the hot sidewalk. Why not? It was a splendid, summery afternoon and a great opportunity to explore the historic old city, their newly adopted home. Present company notwithstanding.
“How goes the new job?”
“Just a job, but it’s okay,” Veronica said. “We got busy for the last couple of hours, so my shift flew. Some odd and colourful characters around this part of the city, though, let me tell you.”
“I thought you’d want to hang with your new friends after work.”
“I would, but they’re busy. Mandy’s babysitting her brother, and I think Gina’s out of town on a road trip with her boyfriend for a day or so. Must be nice to have a car.” Veronica frowned. “I wonder if Momma will ever get one, so we can get our permits…”
Their heads turned in unison when a silver vintage convertible abruptly pulled up beside them. Its engine hummed smoothly but powerfully as it idled by the curb, its entire length of silver and chrome glimmering like a dream in the afternoon sun. With its top down, Samantha was equally quick to drink in the rich red interior and its mint condition, but what registered most for her was the driver. It was Ben Swift. Must be his father’s car. Her heart knocked in her chest when she saw the tilt of his chin, his perusal hidden behind sunglasses, his tentative smile. She didn’t need to see his eyes to know where he was looking.
“Hey, Samantha. May I give you girls a lift?” he asked. “Take you in the T-bird for a little spin around your new town?”
“Holy! You sure can,” Veronica said, her wide-eyed gaze sweeping over the long, sleek, streamlined body of the Thunderbird. Only then did she check out the boy behind the wheel. “Hi, I’m Veronica.” She flashed a captivating smile, the dimples in her cheeks looking especially fetching, much to Sam’s chagrin. “You must be Ben, my sister’s latest model? I’ll give Sammie that much, she really does have excellent taste in photography subjects.” She struck a pose on the sidewalk and giggled, hands on the perfect curves of her hips. “You should see the shots she took of me.”
And there it was. In spite of the instant blaze of jealousy she endured, Samantha was in awe of her. Ben was getting the full onslaught of Veronica’s confident charm. How easily she could talk to a perfect stranger, particularly one as perfect as Ben. And how easily she could lie; Samantha had never taken a photo of Ronnie in her life!
“Well, hello. Great to meet you, Veronica. So you’re the big sister. Awesome.” Ben reached over and pushed the passenger door open. “Climb in! How about I take you both up to see Signal Hill?”
Samantha got in first, shimmying into the back seat and leaning into the soft and sumptuous pleated red leather. She suspected Ben probably wanted Veronica to sit in the front. Why fight it? She chewed the ragged edge of her thumbnail, looking at the backs of their heads as they talked and laughed. She felt the chemistry, palpable between them as they chatted. They hardly seemed to know she was there.
“So how old is this lovely car?” Veronica asked.
“She’s a ’66,” Ben said. “Silver Mink exterior, genuine red leather interior, power-operated folding top. One of only about five thousand Thunderbird convertibles made that year. 428 V-8 engine. Smooth ride, runs like a charm. Sweet wheels, eh?”
“Look at the cool retro dashboard, and you’ve put in a CD player. Gorgeous! How long have you had it?”
“My old man bought it a few years ago, but I get to drive it a lot. We have it out from April to December and store it for the worst months.”
As t
he convertible wound its way to the top of Signal Hill, the warm, sultry wind tousled Samantha’s hair into an unruly nimbus, a fright wig of epic proportions that no hairband on earth could possibly corral. Damn her stupid hair! She noted Veronica looking infuriatingly beautiful, her ponytail now liberated from its scrunchie, allowing her silky tresses to fly unfettered in the wind. She also observed Ben having difficulty keeping his attention on the road.
Samantha tried her best to enjoy herself. She looked around at the clusters of tourists snapping pictures and exploring the historical landmark. After admiring the panoramic view of the city from the Hill, touring the inside of Cabot Tower and its museum, and unsuccessfully trying to spot a humpback or a minke whale in the Atlantic, the threesome returned to the convertible. They headed back down, listening to the radio and driving onto the harbour front. More throngs of tourists. Samantha liked the salty tang in the air here, the first whiff she’d gotten of the sea since leaving Calmer Cove. She breathed it in, her eyes tightly closed. She had forgotten how much she missed it.
“Uh…just wondering…what are you doing tonight?” Ben asked, his arm stretched across the back of the front seat. His tanned hand nearly touched Veronica’s shoulder. “Up for a movie? See Jurassic Park yet? I think it’s still playing at the mall—”
“I’d love to see it,” Veronica said, her eyes smiling in his direction, her cheek in profile curved in pure pleasure. Ben’s eyes were locked on hers like magnets.
Samantha felt sick. “Count me out,” she muttered, looking away. As much as she wanted to see the new blockbuster, she couldn’t stomach the idea of going into a dark theatre with these two. Sit next to all of that chemistry and hormones? Spare me, please. She squinted out at the ships docked in the harbour with unseeing eyes. The laughing squeals of overhead seagulls seemed to mock her.
“You sure, sis?” Veronica asked sweetly, still looking at Ben. “We want Sammie to come too, don’t we, Ben?”
Jeez, sis. You’re all heart, Samantha glowered.
“Of course,” he said, sounding like he’d forgotten all about his back seat passenger. “Yes, Sammie, you should come too.”
Samantha winced. So now he was calling her Sammie, as well? Her eyes rolled skyward. She longed to be anywhere but here. “Nah, you guys go ahead. I’ll see it another time,” she said, chewing on a strip of nail she’d pulled from her thumb. She wouldn’t even consider competing in this arena with Veronica. There was no point. “Ben, would you mind dropping me home now?”
“Of course,” he said. “Military Road, right?”
“Yeah, me too,” Veronica said. “Need to get out of these work duds and hit the shower. But I’ll see you later. Will you still have these fab wheels tonight?”
“I think I can arrange it. Here, give me your phone number.” He produced a pen and the back of a used envelope for Veronica to write on.
Heart plummeting, Samantha felt a meanness well up in its place as the convertible pulled in beside her house. She felt about as desirable as a wad of navel lint as she got out, while the other two still beamed at each other.
“Bye for now,” Ben said. “It was so very nice to meet you, Veronica. Bye, Sammie.”
Samantha spun around on her heel. “Goodbye, Benny,” she said curtly, with extra emphasis on the diminutive name. How do you like that, she thought as she retreated from the car, still watching him. A second later she regretted it.
Ben’s face darkened as his hands gripped the steering wheel. “Hey—don’t call me that!” he shot back, his voice hard as he stared straight ahead. “Got it? The name is Ben.” His abrupt change in tone made both girls freeze to a standstill on the sidewalk.
“Okay, Ben, chill,” Veronica laughed. “We won’t call him that anymore, will we, Sam?”
Face flaming, Samantha didn’t answer as she disappeared inside the refuge of the house, letting the door bang behind her.
Chapter Four
“Her beauty, her pink cheeks, and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her and to purchase indemnity for every fault.”
- Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Samantha felt feverish with self-loathing. What was wrong with her? In one moment, she behaved all quiet and meek, and then in the next, she turned into a mean-spirited little bitch. Running up the stairs to her room, she kicked the door wide open, making it strike and bounce against the wall.
Ah yes. Once again, she’d lost it. The intensity of her irritation and hurt had triggered an outburst she didn’t mean. Would Ben ever speak to her again? She glanced at her face in the bedroom mirror, disturbed to notice she’d forgotten sunscreen. The bright, new sunburn on her nose and forehead glowed like a neon sign, broadcasting her carelessness. Wonderful.
“Well, aren’t you the sulky brat,” Veronica said from the doorway, venom dripping from her words. “Your attitude can turn on a dime. But what else is new, hey, Sammie?”
“Maybe I don’t like my childish nickname any more than he does, ever think of that?”
“Maybe you need to grow up. You’re sixteen now, so it may be high time to put away the snotty little remarks and temper tantrums. Why are you always so super-sensitive?”
Why indeed, Samantha thought, turning away from her sister. She knew deep down Veronica was right. Sometimes, when life and circumstance gave her that heavy hurt in her chest, she wanted others to feel that hurt too. She was sick of being called on it, but how could she change something that felt like an innate part of everything she was?
“You’ve always been high-strung, Sam, but you have to learn to get along in life now that you’re getting older. It was all very funny and entertaining when you used to complain and cry about things, like your itchy sweaters or your every little ache and pain. And how about the time you completely lost it because chewing your ham made your teeth squeak? Remember that meltdown?”
Funny and entertaining? Not to her! Samantha remembered the ham incident vividly, even though she’d only been seven or eight. Tears sprang to her eyes now, just as they had back then, when she’d slammed her fork down with a clatter and spit the half-chewed morsel out onto her plate. Why couldn’t they at least try to understand?
“…when you were a baby, Momma said you were the crooked, colicky one. And to this day, you’re forever moaning how everything I do is too much. My music is too loud, my perfume’s too stinky, or I have the lights on too bright. You’re so friggin’ touchy,” Veronica sighed, shaking her head.
“We can’t all be perfect like you. Now get out of my face.”
“No problem. Only leave Ben alone. Don’t go ruining this for me! I like him, a lot. Understand, loser?” Veronica retreated to her room.
Darlene emerged from her bedroom in her threadbare ‘Nana’ robe, looking haggard. “Don’t mind me, girls. Just trying to get a nap. But hey, who needs a silly thing like sleep when they have work in a few hours?”
“Sorry, Momma,” Samantha said, even though Veronica was the one doing most of the ranting. She still felt apologetic after supper as her mother prepared for work. She offered to pack a lunch for her.
“No, that’s fine. Some of us are ordering in fish and chips tonight for a change. But thank you for offering.”
Later, while watching television, Samantha had no choice but to behold the dolled-up version of Veronica when she came downstairs. She had taken pains to apply extra eye makeup, and was dressed in a becoming new halter top and jeans that accentuated her youthful figure. Her blonde hair hung loose, tumbling over her bare, sun-kissed shoulders. She looks all fresh and new, Samantha thought. Why couldn’t my sister have been born ugly? The beginnings of a migraine headache thrummed behind her temples.
The doorbell chimed. That would be Ben, she thought, her shoulders tensing.
“Would you get that for me?” Veronica asked, their argument apparently forgotten for the time being because it suited her. “I have to grab my sweater in case it gets cold in the theatre.” She disappeared back upstairs.
Samantha turned off the television and went to open the front door. Standing there was Ben, a half-hearted smile on his lips.
“Hi,” he said. “Is Veronica ready for some dinosaurs?”
“Just about. Come on in.” Samantha admired his stylish, grunge plaid shirt as he entered. Something leaped deep within her when his gaze gripped hers.
“Listen, Samantha, I’m sorry I was so rude with you today.” He fiddled with his car keys, but he looked directly at her. “Nobody calls me that name, not since I was little. But that was still no excuse for the way I acted.” He looked down then, still jangling the keys, then jamming them in his jeans pocket.
“I’m sorry too,” Samantha said. “I guess I don’t like my nickname much either.” She tried to laugh, but it came out like a snort.
“Samantha does sound nicer than Sammie. I promise to always call you that from now on. It’s nothing but pure laziness trying to shorten such a pretty name.” He reached out in a chummy gesture, touching her shoulder. “I see someone has a sunburned nose.”
Samantha’s hand flew up to her face as she blushed. “Every summer, guaranteed,” she complained.
She smiled at Ben, but it faded when Veronica in all her gorgeousness entered the vestibule.
“You look sensational,” Ben breathed, his appreciative eyes taking in every inch of her sister. Of course, Veronica accepted the compliment without question, beaming with satisfaction.
Samantha looked down at her ratty, over-sized T-shirt, complete with a ketchup stain from supper.
“Are you sure you won’t come too?” Veronica had the decency to ask as they moved to leave.
Samantha shook her head, fighting to look serene. “Maybe next time. You two have fun screaming at the T-Rex.”
Calmer Girls Page 3
