I was lounging at home watching The Price is Right the following week when the phone rang.
As soon as I answered, Scout just started talking.
“So, let’s pretend that you live in Washington, D.C., and I’ve just met you at a cookout on Maryland’s eastern shore … Some fat cat, muckety-muck’s place on the waterfront. I get my assistant to find out your number. I call and you say, ‘How did you get my number? It’s unlisted! How dare you call me!’ and I tell you that I have connections.”
I giggled. I couldn’t stop myself.
“You call me stalker, wacko. I say, ‘yes, I am a stalker, a wacko.’ You go out with me anyway because you cannot resist my charm and good looks. Then we date for eight months before I bring you up to Maine to meet the family. Gran opens your mouth up and looks in with a flashlight to check your teeth.”
“Yeah,” I said and giggled some more.
“So, let’s pretend.” He cleared his throat.
“Um, hi Claire, I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Scout Toohey, and we met at Senator McMucketty’s Fourth of July bratwurst party.”
“I am afraid I don’t remember you,” I said and giggled some more.
“I was the incredibly handsome one. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.” I knew he was trying to be funny, but that part was true.
“Oh, yes. Now I remember you now,” I said. “You spilled your drink.”
He laughed. “Oh, now you’re playing. Good … I was wondering if I might take you to dinner.”
“That would be lovely,” I said. “I’ll have to check my sched—”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Tonight?” It was Tuesday. I thought he’d want to go on Saturday. I never thought of any great romance starting on a Tuesday, but then again, he was here on vacation, and every night is Saturday when you are on vacation.
“Yeah, you do eat every day, don’t you? You’re not one of those I-think-I-forgot-to-eat girls?”
“No,” I said and giggled again.
“Remember, we’re not ready to go through the whole family thing, so don’t say anything. Or they will all want to go with us.”
They did usually travel in a pack like wolves, that was true. I didn’t want Dad to know either, so I sent him into town for ice cream at 6:45, then left a note saying I was going out with Pepper. I hated to lie to him, but I was afraid he might say something to Uncle Chet or the elder Pike.
I had no choice but to wear my blue linen dress. I hadn’t bought any new clothes for the summer. Hanging out with the Tooheys, I hadn’t needed any. He pulled up in a dark blue sedan, one of the family cars that seemed to be owned by no one in particular and driven by everyone. I wondered where we’d go. I had imagined us in every restaurant on Water Street, trying to figure out where we’d go, but instead, we left town.
He took me to the House of Pizza in the next town over. He had a beer, and I had a soda; they both came in red plastic cups. They were textured and felt a little greasy, even though they were still warm from the dishwasher. They had the same ones at Keech Harbor House of Pizza.
He was wearing khakis, a Harvard T-shirt, no socks, old boat shoes, and a Rolex. I had never seen one before, except for ads on the back cover of the Bee. I kept trying to get a look at it to see what all the fuss was about.
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
“Yes.” I’d be humiliated if I got carded.
“So tell me all about Claire Hart.”
What was there to tell? I wanted to say I was class valedictorian, but that sounded so high school, and what with drinking soda and the recent tea party, it would all make me look like a baby.
“I’m going to college in the fall.” I wanted to brag about my scholarship, but it made me sound poor, so I shut up.
“What are we doing at college in the fall?”
“Finance.”
“Impressive. You’re a numbers girl. Math was your best subject.”
“No, they were all my best subjects,” I answered truthfully. “It took me a long time to decide what to major in. But I picked finance in the end. You can do a lot with money.” What a stupid thing to say. Look who I was talking to.
He excused himself and went to the bathroom. A man came out from behind the counter and came to the table with the pizza. It was Steve from Keech Harbor House of Pizza!
“Hey slacker! Why aren’t you working for me this summer? I had a nice job waiting for you, Claire,” And then he whispered, “What the heck are you doing here with that a-hole?”
I didn’t answer. I was just so surprised to see him.
“Do you work here, too?” I asked.
“Just bought it from my uncle,” he said.
Scout came back just then, so fast that I wondered if he had even bothered to wash his hands.
“Steve, my old friend,” he said, draping his arm around Steve and hugging him. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I bet not, Scout, my old friend. I own this place now, too. Bought it last year when my uncle decided to semi-retire. He lives in Greece all winter. And of course, I still help my parents run the shop in Keech. But you, you have it made. You are a mover and shaker. How are things in Washington? You must be breaking hearts left and right,” he said, grabbing Scout by the chin and shaking his face back and forth.
Scout laughed a fake, forced laugh.
“We went to school together,” Scout said. I was sort of surprised. I never thought of Steve as being anywhere near my age. I mean, Scout was older, but not that much. I had only ever known Steve as someone who worked at the pizza place. And since I had never seen him in school, I just assumed he was a lot older than me. I never realized he had been in prep school all that time.
“Steve!” a female voice called from the kitchen.
“Good to see you,” he said and left.
“Sorry about what?”
“He’s … never mind.”
Scout seemed troubled. He ate quickly, and then we left. I wondered if I did something wrong. But we made out in the parking lot until they closed. So I guessed I had done something right.