After Newman Bay Days, the summer fell in to a steady routine. Every morning I would set up my lemonade stand and set out the jug and the glasses, the homemade jam, and the rest of the books for sale. Every few days Mrs. Marshall would come by with a fresh supply of muffins for me to sell, which had become very popular.
I spent my days at the stand reading Miss Marple books, serving my steady stream of customers, and then stopping for a quick lunch midday with Andy El. Evenings we would work in her garden, when it was cooler. I would help her weed and water and pick the vegetables as they ripened. Then we got to work canning or freezing everything for winter.
Clarice was gone most days, off with her boyfriend, and evenings she worked at the tavern. I saw less of her this summer than in past years, but I was so busy with my lemonade stand and saving money that I didn’t really notice.
I would casually keep tabs on Elvis, who was out a lot more these days, now that he was known around town as a performer. He got hired to play for the Chamber of Commerce summer barbecue on the August long weekend. There were posters up all over that said: Elvis Presley Tribute Artist. Which was apparently the proper way to say Elvis impersonator. He came home afterwards, really pleased with how it had gone. To hear him describe it, they all loved his act. And not one of them suspected that he was the real Elvis Presley.
I still found lots of reasons to casually saunter by his trailer and peer furtively through the living room window or the open door to watch him rehearse. Which he did, faithfully, every day. I guess that was part of being Elvis Presley that he really missed — the performing part. I knew that he loved his new, quiet, private life living at Eagle Shores, though, because whenever he came and went he would be whistling and seemed happy. Maybe living such a quiet life was all he really wanted in the end, and that’s why he was hiding out, pretending to be an Elvis impersonator.
Every few days, Agnes and Linda would come over to Andy El’s through the Cut and help me at the lemonade stand, followed by a swim in the bay. Those days seemed to go by a lot faster, since having them there with me made it a lot more fun.
On those days, we would walk over to the Wymans’ farm and visit the puppies. They were getting bigger each day and were now wandering around and eating mushy food out of a dish, to give Lady a break.
It was really starting to bother me that everyone thought that I was saving for a puppy, when I was really saving to go to Vancouver and find my dad.
One afternoon, as I was cleaning up and putting away the lemonade stand, I made a decision. I would ask Clarice for permission to go to Vancouver by myself to spend a weekend with Angela. I knew that she would say yes. Well, I was pretty sure she would. Clarice was a pretty casual parent, and I didn’t think it would bother her to let me go alone on the ferry. I would just leave out the part about meeting my dad. I figured she’d find out soon enough, when I brought him home to meet Elvis. I just had to wait for the right moment to ask her. And then I could start telling people that I had decided to spend my money on a trip to Vancouver to visit Angela. Everyday I would tell myself, Tomorrow. I’ll ask her tomorrow. And everyday slipped into the next.
Sometimes I would go down to Clarice’s trailer and forage for something to eat in the little fridge, but mostly it was empty, since Clarice was home less and less as the summer wore on.
Occasionally she would come home for a change of clothes or to get a towel to head off to the lake for a swim with her new boyfriend, but that was about it.
I guess things were going well with him, but she still hadn’t told him about me. One day our paths crossed. I had gone to rummage around for some clean jeans in my dresser, and she came in.
“Well, hey, Truly, how’s it going?” she said, absently, pulling out a towel from the bathroom closet.
“Fine, I guess,” I said to her. She was in a pretty good mood. And she appeared to be sober, too.
“So, Clarice, I need to tell you something,” I said, trying to sound casual. I decided to tell her that I wanted to go to Vancouver for a weekend and stay with Angela. That way, I could tell Andy El all about it and feel less guilty about not telling her my real plan.
“Yeah, well, make it quick,” she said. “Byron’s waiting for me to head out to the lake before my shift tonight at the tavern.”
“That’s his name?” I asked.“Byron?”
“Yep,” said Clarice. “He’s a real great guy, too.”
“Have you told him about me yet?” I asked hesitantly.
“Not yet, but I will. Soon.” Clarice sounded evasive. “He’s not really into kids, but he’ll come around.” Even she didn’t sound too convinced. I decided I’d better change the subject and get brave enough to tell her about my plan to see Angela. But I would leave out the part about meeting my dad.
“I’ve been earning money this summer, running the lemonade stand,” I began. She turned to listen to me, and I could tell she was all of a sudden interested in what I had to say.
“Oh yeah? That’s real great, kid. How much ya got saved up?” she asked. There was a funny gleam in her eyes, but I had to keep going to get it all out in a rush.
“I’ve saved up twenty-four dollars and seventy-five cents,” I said proudly.
Clarice sat down at the dinette table and said slowly, “Say, kid, that’s really great. Imagine that! You, saving all that money.” She sat thinking, and I was just about to blurt out my plan when she suddenly asked, “So, where you got that money? You got it in a real safe place?”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “I got it stored in a jar I keep on top of the fridge on Andy El’s porch, so it’s real safe there.”
“Well, that’s real fine, real fine,” Clarice said. “Listen, I got to go, I’ll see ya around in a day or two, kid. Imagine you earning all that money, huh?”
She grabbed an outfit from her closet and headed off in her car, leaving me sitting in the empty trailer. It was only then that I realized that I hadn’t had time to ask her about my trip to Vancouver.