The "yowl" traveled up the trellis to Chloe's second-story bedroom window. She stuck her head out and cringed. Her father peered skyward, rubbing the growing welt on his head. "What are you playing?" he said. "Gong with the Wind?"
She made an apologetic face at him. "Sorry, Dad. Are you hurt?"
He examined his fingers. "I don't detect any scarlet, my dear."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Would you mind bringing my doll up on your way in?"
Dr. Mankewicz propped his bike against the rose trellis and bent to retrieve the Rhett Butler doll beside his foot. Chloe thought, not for the first time, that from a mile away you could guess he was a college professor. Tall, handsome, wearing mismatched socks. Straightening, he adjusted his wire rims at Chloe. "Is Gran . . .?" He let the question dangle.
"Cooking up her special Ukraine brain delight for dinner. My tenth birthday party, remember?"
He shook his head. Squinting up at her, he said, "I'm sorry, Chloe."
"It's okay. I'll just make a salad."
"Not about that. I forgot to buy you a present."
Chloe threatened him with the other doll.
He covered his head with his briefcase. "See you later. Oh, by the way. I'm taking up a new hobby."
"What? Dad!" Chloe's voice rose an octave, but he'd already disappeared through the patio door. "Oh, no." She leaped to her feet. "What is it this time?"
"Your mother phoned me today at work." Chloe's father squeezed honey from the honey bear bottle onto his slice of pumpernickel bread. They were sitting across from each other at the dining room table eating dinner. Chloe stopped drizzling dressing on her spinach salad, then squirt out a big blob. "She wants you to call her," he said.
"In this life?" Chloe speared a cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth.
"Chloe . . ."
"Forget it, Dad."
"She wants to spend Thanksgiving with you."
Chloe choked. She grabbed her iced tea and took a swig. After she swallowed, she asked sarcastically, "What's she serving? Turkey with oyster stuffing? Giblet gravy? Baked ham? Or is she going to force me to stand by and witness brutal slaughter again when she plunges a live lobster into boiling water?"
He folded his bread in half. "She didn't realize it would upset you so much. She probably just forgot. Your mother understands that the two of you have philosophical differences."
"Understands? Dad, I still have nightmares about that lobster. It keeps flopping around helpless in those banded claws, trying to escape. She doesn't understand. How could she? She doesn't believe in anything."
"That's not true. Just because she doesn't share your convictions," he met her eyes across the table, "doesn't mean she's amoral."
"No," Chloe muttered. "She's a moron."
He held her eyes. "Your intolerance is showing, my dear."
Chloe dropped her eyes. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. "But, Dad. She blinds bunnies."
He frowned at her.
Chloe shoveled a forkful of spinach leaves into her mouth. She hated that her mother worked for Desiree Cosmetics. Why couldn't she work for a cruelty-free cosmetics company? Body and Bath or Crabtree and Evelyn or Peacekeeper? They never tested their products on animals.
There was a moment of silence while both Chloe and her father chewed and swallowed. Then Chloe's father, mopping up some gloplets of honey from his plate with the last crust of bread, said, "It could be worse. She could sell cars." He chomped on his bread and added, "On TV."
They both cracked up. Yes, Chloe was definitely her father's daughter. Even though her parents had been divorced more than ten years, Chloe couldn't believe they'd ever been married. Or had a child. No way was she related to her mother.
Maybe I'm adopted, she thought. Or cloned. Yes, that's it. I was a test tube baby. And Mother just picked me up from the hospital. In her lavender Lexus with Desiree Cosmetics, Inc. plastered all over the back window. Chloe shuddered.
She decided she'd better change the subject. "So, Dad, what's this new hobby of yours?"
"Ah." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. Behind his wire rims, his eyes twinkled. Rubbing his hands together, he leaned forward to speak. At that moment the dining room lights went out. The door to the kitchen burst open and Gran shuffled in, carrying Chloe's birthday cake, all ten candles flickering in the dark.
"What time do you want to meet at Bird Boutique tomorrow?" Muriel asked. She shifted her stack of books from one arm to the other. "I have to be home by eleven for a dentist appointment. Personally, I don't think that's enough time to demonstrate, especially for a cause as important as saving the exotic birds of the world. I'm going to ask Mom to reschedule for next Saturday."
"Good try, Mur." Chloe smiled. "You've already made her reschedule that appointment three times. You and your, what is it, ordontophobia?"
Muriel looked at her. "That's fear of teeth."
Chloe shrugged. "Close enough. What do you call the fear of fear itself?"
"Phobophobia." Muriel curled a lip and Chloe smirked.
Chloe scrounged around in her bag for the Bird Boutique grand opening announcement. They were standing at the street corner across from the middle school waiting for the traffic to clear. "Store opens at nine o'clock," Chloe read. "Let's meet at eight-thirty. I think two and a half hours is a strong enough show of support." She started across ahead of Muriel. Over her shoulder she asked, "You don't have some ridiculous fear of arrest, do you?"
"What?" Muriel's eyes bugged out. "Do you think we might get arrested? Chloe!" Muriel rushed up behind her. "Do you really think there's a possibility?"
Chloe replied, "Don't worry. If they haul us off to the slammer, I'll tell them you were my hostage. It was all my idea; that I threatened to expose you if you didn't cooperate."
Muriel exhaled a sigh of relief. Then she frowned. "Expose me for what?"
"Lusting after a married man. That's got to be a crime."
"Chloe!"
Chloe burst into laughter.
A swarm of students converged outside the Aspen Grove Middle School front doors. Along the sidewalk a cluster of cheerleaders gathered to swap beauty secrets, Chloe presumed. She and Muriel waved their way through the haze of perfume. Muriel's allergies kicked up and she started to sneeze. Chloe thought she'd have to write another scathing editorial to the Aspen Grove Gazette, this time about respecting people's rights to breathe fresh air. Maybe she'd throw in a few jabs at jocks while she was at it.
"Chloe, hi."
That voice. Chloe froze. She held the door open as he breezed past. "Thanks," Brett said, punching her arm. "If this is women's lib, I'm all for it." He smiled at her.
He touched me, she thought. She savored the tingle while several more people brushed by her unnoticed. And he remembered my name.
"Thanks," someone else said. "Bring the luggage in when you get a chance."
Like a sprung mousetrap, Chloe released the door. Unfortunately, Muriel was waiting in the threshold and the door smacked her in the face. The force hurtled her backward, right onto her rear.
"Mur, I'm sorry!" Chloe crouched to help her friend gather books off the ground. "Talk about vapor between the ears."
Muriel grinned. Without warning, she bolted upright. Chloe noticed the grin change to a sappy smile. "There he goes." Muriel sighed dreamily, gazing down the hall after Mr. Keifer. Absently, she took the books Chloe offered her and floated off on a cloud behind him.
"Oh, brother," Chloe muttered. She flung her bag over her shoulder and started down the hall in the opposite direction. I hope I never act that stupid when I fall in love. Like I'm ever going to.
"What time's the big bird boycott?" Brett asked, suddenly appearing at her side.
Whoa, he was tall. And his sun-bleached hair shimmered in the fluorescent hall light. "The what?" Chloe asked. And he was always catching her off guard.
"The boycott tomorrow at Birdie Boutique. It's still on, isn't it?"
"Of course it's still on." She clucked. What did he think; she was all talk, no action? "We're forming the picket line at eight-thirty."
"Wow, you've got a whole picket line going?" He widened his eyes at her. "I'm impressed."
Uh-oh, she thought. Did two a line make?
"Do you always walk so fast? It's like warp speed trying to stay up with you." He stepped in front of her and stopped dead.
Did he say I was warped? She felt a little tipsy, standing there close enough to feel his body heat. "What did you say?" She had to raise her voice over the growing din.
He nudged her sideways, out of the stampeding herd and against the lockers. "You're hard to talk to, you know that?" He propped his arm over her head. "And you never smile. You're so intense."
Chloe opened her mouth to retort, but she couldn't think of a retort, tart or otherwise. Luckily, the clanging bell overhead cut off all conversation.
"Crap." His eyes slid from hers to the watch on his wrist. "I'm late for gym." He backed away. Playfully, he boxed her arm and said, "I'll catch you later, Chloe. Tomorrow for sure. I want to talk to you about something."
He disappeared into the storm of students thundering down the hall. Chloe inhaled a deep, calming breath. She hadn't even exhaled it all when he reappeared.
Touching the tip of her three-cornered Paul Revere hat, he said, with a lopsided grin, "By the way, I like your hats."
Chloe smiled meekly.
He waggled a finger at her. "Hey, I did it. I made you smile."
She watched him sprint away until he had vanished around the corner. Then she spun in place and pounded her head on the locker behind her, flattening the three corners into four.