I threw my shoe in the trash on my way into the house. I went upstairs and flopped into bed. Dad was out, I didn’t know where. I wanted to sleep late, really late, like all day, and stay numb and ignorant. But I forgot to pull the shade down, and the sun woke me up as soon as its rays hit my window at 5:38 a.m. I lay there, burning in my humiliation until I heard Flo come in an hour later. I jumped up and brought my bathroom garbage downstairs to hide the shoe before she saw it. I kept hoping that Scout or Pepper would call. That someone would tell me that I had nothing to be embarrassed about. That something crazy always happens at the Sainte Anne de Part-tay.
But no one called. Not even Pixie. I felt the worst about her. It was a real trespass, sneaking into her reading house without permission. It’s something I normally would never have done. But I just followed Scout. I knew he wouldn’t call.
I told Flo I had cramps so she’d leave me alone, but she knew something was up. She knew my schedule better than I did, since she was the one who washed my sheets and underwear and kept the bathroom fully stocked with what she referred to as “supplies” in a whispered tone. She left me alone and didn’t ask me any questions. I wonder if she could have heard something.
That week, Dad kept offering to drop me off in the village, so clearly, he was clueless. I had to keep making excuses as to why I didn’t want to go anywhere. I couldn’t tell him his favorite family booted me out of their inner circle because I was messing around with the Golden Son in Pixie’s playhouse. I didn’t even want to admit this to myself.
I finally got my reading done. I read all about macroeconomics, and I finally read that flowery novel Dad brought home for me in June. It was about true friendship. I cried throughout most of it, and I loved it even though I didn’t want to. Then I reorganized my closet again by color, just in time to pack it all up and off to college.
After three days, the phone finally rang, but it was only Tim.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch together, before we go our separate ways next week,” he said.
It suddenly hit me that for the first time in twelve years, I would not be saving a seat for him on the school bus. It made me sad, and it made me sadder that I hadn’t even thought about it until now.
“Sure,” I said.
“Dock n’ Dine?”
“Maybe … if it’s not too crowded,” I lied. I just wanted to make sure it was clear of Tooheys. I was 18 now and could go to the forbidden Dock n’ Dine if I felt like it.
Tim picked me up in his dad’s truck, and we headed toward the village. The Plunger and the blue station wagon were nowhere in sight. Maybe they had all gone back to school or on some new adventure. It was a Tuesday, early in the day and late in the season so the Dock n’ Dine was quiet. Soon, the tourists and most of the Tooheys would be gone for another year.
Tim requested one of the outside tables in the section close to the road, which I thought was pretty weird for a wannabe marine biologist. It was separated from the sidewalk by a low white fence. Tim sat next to it and rested his arm on the rail. I couldn’t understand why he’d want to sit next to the road when there were plenty of perfectly good tables right on the water. But Tim was holding court—the harbormaster, Mulligan from the market, one of our old teachers, even a late-season tourist asking for directions, each stopped to chat as they passed by on the sidewalk. Maybe he just liked to socialize. Maybe he was showing off.
My skanky lab partner came and took our order, and even she was nice to me because I was with Tim, and everybody loved him. I started to place my order, and then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old blue station wagon slowly cruise by.
“I’ll have the garden sal …” I started to say. I wasn’t in the mood to eat anything that might have been caught anywhere near Hazard Point.
“A garden sal-what?” Skanky said. She wasn’t that nice.
The car door opened while it was still moving, and Pepper jumped out, stumbling a bit, then regaining her footing and storming up to the fence. She leaned over it and into my face.
“You! You ruined EVERYTHING!” she screamed. Gasps erupted from the few other diners around us. Skanky laughed.
“Do you think it was just an accident that we met you back in June? Gran saw your picture in the Keech Town Crier and said ‘This one, Pep, get this girl. This is the one for Pike.’ And then wasn’t it just my dumb luck, not two days later, and there you are, walking down Water Street oblivious, dumb, and happy. And, oh didn’t I get lucky again when you saved that idiot dog of hers.”
“You threw her! You threw Sailor Moon overboard!” I shouted. Let everyone hear how awful she is!
“God no! What’s wrong with you?” she hissed. Then she leaned in closer, baring her teeth like a threatened Chihuahua. Really, more like one of Grannie’s German Shepherds.
“You were perfect. Everyone liked you. Pike, Pixie, Gran, we all did. Even I liked you. And then you had to go and ruin it with Scout! Scout could be in Congress someday. Who do you think you are? He can’t get involved with some nobody from a broken home in Keech—”
“You know what? Screw you, Pepper,” I said, standing up. I thought that would shut her up, but she just kept going on. Cheddar had turned the car around and now pulled up behind her.
“Pep,” he said, leaning out the window, “get in the car.” But of course, she ignored him.
“You would have been perfect for Pike. He’s not going to Washington or Boston or even Portland, for chrissakes.” she said. Pike sat in the passenger seat and avoided my gaze.
I can’t believe I ever liked him or fell for Scout and his smarmy charm.
“He needs a local,” she kept going, “but one that is also good enough for him. You know how hard it is to find that? But there you were. Tall, check—blonde, check—smart, check, valedictorian no less, although how hard could that be at Keech High—and local, check, check, check!”
“Let’s move inside, Claire,” Tim whispered. I ignored him.
“And what perfect timing! You show up just in time to get rid of Meredith.” Now she was on a roll.
“Get rid of Meredith? Why do you even care?” I shouted. By now, Pike had joined her on the sidewalk and pulled her elbow.
“Come on, Pep,” he urged, but she ignored him.
“Meredith. I’ll tell you what Meredith is. Meredith is a rushed wedding and a baby on the way. That’s how girls like Meredith operate.”
“Oh come on, Pepper. What is this? 1965?”
“How do you think we got stuck with Cheddar’s mom?” Pepper laughed. “Do you know why she never comes out to the Point? Because she’s fat as a cow and owns a yarn shop. A Yarn Shoppe! With two ‘p’s and an e!”
“How can she come out to the Point in summer? Summer is her busiest season!” Cheddar shouted from behind the wheel of the car. “And at least my parents love each other.” Pepper rolled her eyes.
I had no idea. I would have liked to have gone to Aunt Velveeta’s yarn shoppe. I had seen Cheddar’s mom knitting in the car with Uncle Chet. I bet Flo would have liked something from that yarn shoppe, too.
“Pepper,” I said to her. “I just want you to know I wrote your grandmother the loveliest note, telling her all about the wonderful party I attended while she was away praying in Quebec.”
“You didn’t. You couldn’t.” Pepper started to hyperventilate and turned completely white. She rushed back to the car and jumped into the back seat.
“Drive! Drive!” she shrieked at Cheddar.