Girls Only! (30 page)

Manda went to her mother and kissed her cheek. “I won’t agree to anything, but I can promise you one thing—you’ll be absolutely jazzed.”

She could hardly wait to start filming.

Tomorrow!

The afternoon was extra cold, and the windswept slope was slicker than usual. With the sun on her face, Manda prayed that all would go well.

“This is important stuff,” she told Benny, who held his video camera. “It’s for my mom. She needs a piece of the mountain.” She gave him a few instructions about the sort of angles she hoped he might capture on video.

“I can handle that,” he said, hoisting the camera onto his right shoulder.

“Don’t worry about this being too professional.” She patted him on the arm. “It’s the thought that counts.”

She prepared to ski the short distance, waiting for Benny to give her the high sign. The plan was to ski out the gate and down the first one-third of the course. No need to capture the entire run.

“When you’re ready, just whistle,” she called to him.

Benny skied down the first section of the run, using wide, banked parallel turns, taking things slow and easy due to the camera perched on his shoulder.

Manda had to smile to herself, the excitement building. “Mom’s gonna love this,” she said to Coach Hanson at the starting gate. “You have no idea how much!”

“Ski cautiously,” Coach advised her. “There’s a lot of ice out there today.”

Another challenge. But she was ready. “Hear anything?” she asked Coach.

His ruddy face broke into a smile. “Sounds like a whistle to me.”

“Benny’s ready.” She was off, down the slope, thinking only of her mom’s soon-to-be look of surprise. Manda felt the ice when she hit several patches of extremely hard snow made by the harsh daytime wind.

Adjusting to the conditions at hand, she used the absolute minimum of edge on her skis. And she avoided hanging on to the traverse too long.
Just like the best skiers
, she thought as she spotted Benny and the camera.

The first section of taping went too quickly, so Manda asked Benny to ski down another long section, toward the Corkscrew. The perfect place for some additional footage. The real exciting stuff!

Although Manda had been filmed frequently, never had it been under a circumstance like this. The tape was for pure entertainment. Possibly therapy.

She could just imagine her mother’s face light up when Manda took the tape to the hospital. She’d already arranged with the nurses to borrow a VCR for the showing. “The video might help her get better quicker,” she’d told them.

Now, preparing to ski the wild turns of the Corkscrew, she glanced at the sky. It was bleak and gray, yet pieces of blue tried to peek through the cloud layer.

She peered down the course through her goggles.
“Go, girl,” she said into the icy air. “You’re Downhill Dynamite!”

Benny gave the whistle sign again, and she was off. She zigzagged and swooped past the sharp turns of the familiar run, enjoying the thrill of it—the stimulating tingle of a job well done.

At the designated spot, she turned her skis quickly and came to a swooshing stop as snow billowed about her like a misty fan. Satisfied that Benny had captured enough footage, she thanked him. Then, winded but pleased, she headed down to catch the ski lift, feeling as happy as if she’d actually won a race.

But the serious hard work of the day was still ahead. In five short weeks she’d be competing in the Downhill Classic. If she was to place anywhere near first, she needed more practice time on the slope. Shouting “Go, girl!” to the sky wasn’t going to cut it in Dressel Hills.

She knew that. The next hour would be a test of her raw nerve.
Do I have what it takes to win?
she wondered on the ride back up to the summit of Falcon Ridge.

Do I?

Reach for the Stars

Chapter Seven

She didn’t have to wonder long. Manda’s last practice run of the day, followed by a stiff set of pointers from Coach Hanson, had been a blazing success.

“Move over, Picabo Street,” she said.

Coach agreed. “You really pushed your limits today, Manda. Keep skiing like that, and I’ll be following
you
to the Olympics someday.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Don’t thank me. You’re the one with the bite.”

They laughed together, but she knew he was right. There was something burning inside her, driving her . . . pushing her to the very edge of human endurance and courage.

Manda never questioned what that something was. But she knew it was there. Sure as the stars in the sky.
And she would use it to kindle her strength to compete.

To win!

On the way to the ski lodge at the base of Cascade Peak, Manda bumped into Mr. Greenberg. She had secretly observed him before, after ski class when he came to pick up his son—super intelligent and smart-mouthed Tarin the Terrible.

“Aren’t you Tarin’s father?” she said, propping her skis up against the log-frame exterior.

“Why, yes, I am.” His clean-cut face was friendly and warm. When he smiled, his slate gray eyes twinkled. “And you’re Tarin’s new ski instructor, I believe.”

“Just till my mother’s leg heals,” she explained. “She has a badly broken leg, and I’m filling in for her.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “I see, so you must be a very good skier yourself.”

“I’m pretty good for my age.” Laughing about her mildly boastful comment, she was about to excuse herself.

“Uh, Miss Garcia—”

“Manda,” she interrupted. “Call me
Manda
.”

His smile was contagious. “All right, then, Manda.” He looked at her the way she assumed a father might
look at his own daughter. “I was wondering, would you happen to know of a responsible sitter? Someone who might be interested in spending time with Tarin a couple afternoons a week?”

Instantly, young Joanne Bock’s comments came to mind. But Manda dared not let on that she knew Tarin had scared off several baby-sitters.

“I would be glad to pay more than the usual hourly rate,” he added quickly, almost before she could reply.

She smiled politely. “Let me think about it. I might know someone who could help you out.” She didn’t say that
she
was the one. She didn’t want to let on that she was intrigued by both Tarin . . .
and
his father.

“Very good,” he said, offering his business card. “Would it be too presumptuous to ask if you’d mind giving me a call? That is, if and when you might come up with someone?”

She accepted the card, noting that he was a computer analyst. “Sure, I could do that.”

He turned to go, then stopped and looked back at her with a kindly nod of his head. “Thank you, Manda. I’d like very much to interview someone soon.”

Interview?
What on earth for?

Hardly anyone interviewed baby-sitters in Alpine Lake. Not unless there were certain health concerns involved. Things the prospective sitter might need to be aware of. Stuff like that.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t think what Mr. Greenberg might need to discuss with her or any sitter. Was Tarin so terrible that his father had to interview someone for the job?

She left for home, head reeling. Thankful that her ski videotape was ready to present to her mother, she picked her way across the well-lighted streets.

Up and down Main Street, lights began to come on in the front windows of the old Victorian houses. Livvy Hudson, vice-president of the
Girls Only
Club, lived in a gray-and-white three-story house just a block from where Manda turned to head home.

Maybe Livvy would know what sort of sitter interviews Mr. Greenberg was conducting these days. After all, one of Livvy’s school friends had baby-sat some of the worst-behaved kids in town. Livvy had told her so.

Manda came close to going the extra block, just to stop in and ask her ice-skater friend her opinion. But at the last minute, she decided not to. It really wasn’t her duty to dig up dirt on Tarin Greenberg. She would find out the whole story for herself when
she
attended the interview for the job.

Long after her ski-lodge encounter with Mr. Greenberg, Manda continued to think about him. He was so thoughtful, it seemed. And his words were kind, almost gentle. Yet his son was fiery and determined. How could
that be? Surely, there was something of his father lying silent in the rambunctious and outspoken boy.

I’m going to find out
, she decided as she waited for the pedestrian light to turn.
I won’t waste a single second
.

It was a promise she’d made to herself yesterday, after the Sunday dinner with her friends the Bocks. She wouldn’t forget. No matter what, she was going to get to the bottom of this Tarin thing!

Reach for the Stars

Chapter Eight

“You’re doing
what?
” Livvy Hudson practically howled into the phone. Raising her voice was highly unusual for Livvy. She was soft-spoken most of the time.

Manda continued. “You heard me . . . I’m interviewing for a baby-sitting job . . . with Mr. Greenberg.”

“I don’t believe this,” Livvy muttered.

“Well, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Livvy retorted, then fell silent.

“C’mon! You can’t mean that. What could be so horrible about sitting for Tarin Greenberg?”

Livvy spoke up. “They don’t call him Tarin the Terrible for nothing, do they?”

“Maybe not. But I’ve seen the way he operates in my ski class, and to be honest with you, there’s nothing scary about that kid.” She was being straight with
Livvy and, at the same time, trying to check out some things.

“You better think this through super carefully,” Livvy said. “Before you do something you might regret.”

“What’s to regret? I need the money for lift tickets and other ski stuff, and it sounds like Tarin needs a good sitter.” She sighed. “Where’s the problem?”

Livvy huffed into the phone. “Go ahead . . . learn the hard way.”

“Just give me something solid to go on,” Manda insisted. “Tell me something I don’t already know about this kid. Then maybe I’ll think about dropping it.”

“Okay, I’ll get the lowdown for you. Soon as I talk to someone . . . a friend of mine.”

Manda assumed the friend was Suzy Buchanan, Livvy’s school friend. Suzy was one of the town’s busiest sitters. “We’re talking straight from the horse’s mouth?” asked Manda.

Livvy chuckled. “You got it.”

They chatted about the upcoming
Girls Only
meeting and, later, how Manda’s mother was doing. “Mom should start improving soon,” she told Livvy. “She had her leg surgery today. I’m heading off to the hospital now.”

“Need a ride?” Livvy asked.

“Thanks anyway. I’ll catch the city bus.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she said. “See ya tomorrow at school. And don’t forget the buzz on Tarin.”

“Don’t worry. Bye.”

Manda said good-bye and hung up the phone.

She tossed a frozen dinner in the microwave. The chicken and rice dish had a flat, cardboard taste. She couldn’t wait for her mother to come home from the hospital. Even if Mom couldn’t stand up and cook, she could tell Manda what ingredients to throw together. Anything would taste better than nuked fast food!

After eating, she washed up and changed clothes. Then, before leaving the house, she called the hospital. “How’d the surgery go?” she said when her mother answered.

“I survived, and now I’m ready and waiting for some entertainment. Namely, you.”

“Remember, you promised to be wide awake when I get there,” Manda reminded.

“My eyes are propped open, and I can’t wait to see you. Hurry!”

Manda smiled into the phone. “Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll see you in less than ten minutes.”

Actually, the walk to the bus stop was less than two minutes from the house. The bus would take her the rest of the way. Five minutes—max!

When Manda arrived, both her mom
and
Auntie Ethel were sitting up in bed. A row of cut flowers—yellows, blues, and reds—and plants lined the wide windowsill nearest Mom’s bed. Ethel’s side of the room was decorated with a pink-and-white balloon bouquet and at least a dozen get-well cards.

“I’ve got a big surprise!” Manda announced, motioning to the nurse in the hallway.

“You’re surprise enough for me.” Mom reached out for a hug.

Manda hurried to her bedside and squeezed her gently. “What did your doctor say about the operation?”

“That I slept through it,” Mom joked.

“Well, now, that’s a
good
thing, I’d say,” Ethel commented with a chortle.

Manda joined in the laughter. “No, really, how’d everything go?”

Mom was still smiling. “The surgery was a snap. No complications. My leg should be back to normal in six weeks or so.” She was wearing a pink bow in her shoulder-length hair.

Manda touched the bow. “Where’d you get this?”

“Oh, one of Ethel’s grandchildren gave it to me.” Mom looked especially bright, nearly childlike, with the pink touch in her dark brown hair.

Auntie Ethel grinned, showing her gums. “Yes, indeed, we had a whole roomful of company today.”

“Sorry I missed it,” Manda said. “But I think you’ll understand when you see the surprise.”

Almost on cue, two nurses came in and set up the VCR. “It’s show time,” one of them said, waving as they left the room.

“Show time?” Mom asked.

Manda stood in front of the two beds, her arms out like a choir director’s. “Both of you need a bit of fresh air, a blue sky, and . . . a very tall mountain!”

Mom started clapping as if she knew the surprise. Ethel burst in with short applause, too. “This is such fun,” said Mom.

“Wait till you see the show, then you can decide.” Manda pressed the “play” button on the remote and went to sit on the edge of her mother’s bed. “Tadah!”

She played her harmonica as background music, though the video was quite short. But it was accompanied by numerous “oohs” and “aahs”—from Mom especially.

Ethel mostly panted and gasped when the Corkscrew section came on the screen. “Oh, dear me, how in the world does she ski like that?” the woman said.