Girls Only! (32 page)

“I hope you don’t expect Tarin to call me that,” she said softly as he returned.

His eyebrows became butterflies. “Excuse me?”

“Manda . . . or Miss Manda will be fine. But nothing formal, please,” she insisted.

He nodded. “I understand.”

Tarin dashed down the steps, scurrying into the room where she and his father were chatting quietly. The chubby boy stood there without speaking.

“Tarin? Please greet Miss Manda,” said Mr. Greenberg.

“Hello,” said Tarin with a blank expression.

“How’s it going?” she replied.

“How is
what
going?” Tarin asked. A frown planted itself between his blond eyebrows.

She smiled at him, hoping to defuse the tone of the conversation. “It’s just a saying,” she remarked, shrugging. “Nothing to dissect or analyze.”

Mr. Greenberg was grinning at her response. Yes! She was getting somewhere. At least with Tarin’s father.

The boy seemed somewhat defenseless against the two of them. “No need to elucidate, Miss Manda,” came the tiny voice. “I fully assimilate the significance of the phrase.”

If the blond-haired boy with the babyish voice hadn’t seemed so serious, it would’ve been something to laugh about. But, bless his heart, this kid knew what he was talking about. Manda figured she had better just keep the expressions rolling. Turn the interview into a game.

“I’m going to be your new sitter,” she announced, turning to look at Mr. Greenberg just to be sure.

Tarin’s father was nodding his head, an enormous grin spreading from ear to ear. “Yes, I do believe this arrangement is going to work out quite nicely,” he said, getting up. “Three afternoons a week.”

“I haven’t offered
my
assessment yet,” Tarin whined, on the verge of a tantrum.

“Very well, the interview continues,” Mr. Greenberg said, glancing at Manda. Quickly, he sat down again.

Tarin gladly took center stage, which happened to be the carpeted living room floor. He stood with his knees locked and his round head tilted to one side, probably thinking.

Manda could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning. Turning . . . What would he ask her?

“I’m intrigued by your qualifications,” Tarin began, eyes blinking. “Please specify.”

She drew a deep breath. “In what aspect of my achievements are you most interested?” she asked.

Nice comeback
, she thought, congratulating herself.

The boy’s eyes were bright blue, the color of the ocean in summer. His plump face was flawless and clear, but it held a permanent look of mischief. “What genre of cuisine would you say is your specialty?” he asked.

Easy!

“Well, I’ve been known to make a mean spaghetti and meatballs dinner,” she said.

Simply and without another word, Tarin turned to his father. “Employ her.”

Manda was shocked at the kid’s power. Tarin the Terrible clearly ruled the roost. The occasional after-school job was going to be a battle of wills. Hers against his.

Who would win?

She was eager to find out!

Reach for the Stars

Chapter Eleven

“I’m coming home tomorrow,” Mom told her later that afternoon. “Doc says I’m ready.”

Manda was thrilled. “This is great news.” She hugged her mother, enjoying the smell of her perfume. The familiar scent made her wish her mom could skip out of the hospital this minute!

The semiprivate room seemed smaller today. Manda wondered if it was because the Greenberg home had been so spacious.

“How’d the interview go?” Mom asked.

“It was crazy. Very different.”

“What do you mean?” Mom looked worried.

“It’s just that Mr. Greenberg and his son have an unusual relationship, to say the least.” She was careful not to reveal what she thought of Mr. Greenberg himself.

“So tell me all about these people,” Mom said, appearing to be well rested as she sat perched on the hospital bed.

“Let’s see, uh, Mr. Greenberg is . . .” She paused. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s just something very individual . . . intriguing about him.” She wished she had the nerve to say that her mom ought to meet him sometime. Maybe invite him over for coffee or something. But that would mean Tarin might have to tag along. Big mistake!

She was probably way out in left field. Such wild and wacky thoughts. There was no hope that her mother would ever be interested in getting to know the man anyway.

“How’s your work with Coach Hanson coming?” Mom asked.

“I’m right on schedule for Dressel Hills, but I’m really glad you’re coming home. It’ll make things much easier.” She figured she’d still have to do some of the cooking and cleaning up. Her mom’s leg was going to be in a cast. It would be tough going on crutches for many weeks. At least Manda wouldn’t have to be running back and forth to the hospital every day.

“I really hope I’ll get to see you compete,” Mom said, smiling. “It might be kinda hard.” She glanced at her broken leg. “With this cast, you know.”

“You’ll make it, Mom. I’ll make sure you’re there.” Once again, she thought of Mr. Greenberg. She pictured
him, his strong arms carrying Mom up the slope partway—getting her situated at the finish line. Easy!

Shaking off that surprising thought, she went over and parted the curtains. “W-where’s Auntie Ethel?”

The hospital bed was empty!

“She was released at noon,” Mom explained. “My roomie’s gone home. But don’t worry, I have her address.”

“That’s good.” She paused, remembering how happy the dear lady had seemed two days ago when Manda played her ski video. “Maybe my piece of the mountain got her inspired enough to check out of here.”

Mom laughed. “There might be some truth to that.”

Manda was pleased all around. Ethel Norton was back home, Mom soon would be, and she’d landed herself another job . . . right under Mr. Greenberg’s nose!

Things were absolutely ideal.

Tarin the Terrible acted out the next day during ski class. He followed Manda around on the bunny slope, asking for special favors. Constantly. What bugged her even more was his endless intellectual talk. It was put-on . . . so unnatural. And by the end of the session, she wondered if she should mention something to his father.

Unfortunately, the opportunity never presented itself.
So she decided to wait and discuss it tomorrow afternoon, the next time she was scheduled to baby-sit. She hoped there might be time to talk to Mr. Greenberg before he slipped out the door.

Meanwhile, she endured the endless barrage of Tarin’s articulate prattle. She couldn’t help but count the minutes till her first ski class was finished. She worried that she might feel frustrated like this while baby-sitting the boy. Was it worth putting up with such nonsense just to get better acquainted with Mr. Greenberg?

As it turned out, she completely missed Tarin’s father after class. Little Shelley Rolland needed some assistance with her skis, so Manda helped her unsnap the bindings. “How’s that? Now you’ll know how next time, right?”

Shelley nodded her head. “Thanks.” She reached for Manda’s gloved hand. “You’re the best ski teacher in the whole world!” she said as they walked toward the ski lodge together.

Manda chuckled. Shelley was so young it was hard to imagine her ever having had another ski instructor. She led Shelley up the wooden ramp, to the west door of the lodge.

“I’ve got a secret,” Shelley said, button nose upturned in the frosty air.

“You do?”

“Yes, and it’s a big-girl secret.” Shelley’s eyes were
wide, waiting for Manda to take the bait. “I’ll tell you if you make me a promise.”

Manda reached for the lodge door and held it open. “What promise is that?”

Shelley did her usual motioning so Manda would bend down to her level. “I’m in love with someone,” she lisped.

“Should I guess?” Manda asked, playing along.

“No,” Shelley insisted. “Let me
tell
you!”

Manda wondered if all five-year-olds were this outspoken. “I’m ready for the secret,” she said, leaning down.

“I’m in love with Tarin,” whispered Shelley. “I think he’s
terribly
terrific!”

Manda nodded. She couldn’t say that she agreed. The boy was a spoiled, brainy brat, and she was going to do her very best to tame him. And . . . to find out what made him tick!

She had a scheme, and it wouldn’t be easy. But she wasn’t a quitter. She wasn’t giving up!

Tomorrow she’d lay down the ground rules.
Rules!
Wouldn’t Tarin the Terrible be surprised?

Well, it wouldn’t matter what the boy thought. He’d have to comply, one way or the other. Starting with letting
her
call the shots!

Shelley pulled on her sleeve again. “Don’t you think we’d make a cute couple?” she said.

Manda snapped back to attention. “Oh . . . yes, I think you’d be very cute together.”

The little girl’s eyes were dreamy now. “I think Greenberg is such a nice name.” Then she started muttering, “My name is Mrs. Shelley Greenberg. . . .”

Manda couldn’t help hearing the childish mutterings. She remembered her own kindergarten daydreams about boy classmates. Except she’d never have been interested in a kid like Tarin. She liked the overly confident types best. The kind of boys who popped off huge mounds of snow, soaring on snowboards at twenty-five feet into the air. Or . . . daring aerial skiers and bungee jumpers. Her kind of guy.

But she did agree with her young student on one thing, at least. Greenberg was a
very
nice name. She thought it would be a fantastic change from Garcia—the name her father had given her mother when they married, and passed on to her. Maybe
that
was the reason she caught herself thinking so much about Mr. Greenberg. Maybe she wanted Mr. Greenberg for her father. It was time for a real father, one that would stay with her and her mother forever.

After all, Tarin’s father was a single man; probably a lonely one, too. He needed a wife and daughter to round out his life. . . .

Reach for the Stars

Chapter Twelve

Promptly after school on Friday, the
Girls Only
Club members gathered for their once-a-week meeting. It promised to be a short meeting because two of the members had other appointments. Manda didn’t say that she had an appointment, too. With Tarin’s destiny.

“Let the meeting come to order,” Jenna Song said, sitting cross-legged on the rug near her bed.

Jenna’s attic bedroom was more like a hideaway clubhouse than a bedroom. Everything a girl gymnast could possibly want was available. Things like a four-poster bed and dresser, a computer desk, an Olympic rings wall hanging, and a shelf for displaying competition medals.

Unlike most girls, Jenna had floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a barre to practice ballet in her bedroom. The size of the room, the barre, and the fact that it was high in the
attic were the main reasons why they’d chosen to have club meetings here. After all, the four club members were each enrolled in the same ballet classes!

“Old business first,” Jenna said.

The girls shook their heads. Nothing.

“New business?” the president asked.

Heather Bock had something to say. “I think we should offer to help Manda’s mom. She’s home from the hospital with a badly broken leg.”

Jenna and Livvy agreed. They liked the idea. So did Manda, of course, but she felt awkward about commenting. After all, it was
her
mother!

Then Jenna spoke up. “Since Manda seems to be spreading herself thin these days, we oughta make sure her mom’s doing all right. You know, help out.”

Manda resented the comment. Jenna made it sound like Manda was too busy to help her own mother. “My mom’s just fine, thank you. And what I do with my free time is my business.” She hadn’t planned for the words to slip out quite so spitefully.

“Thing is,” Jenna continued, “in order to be an
active
member of this club, you need to be focused on your competitive skiing.” She glanced at the wall calendar. “There isn’t much time left before the Downhill Classic . . . is there?”

Sounded like a threat—like Jenna thought she didn’t deserve to be in the club anymore.

Jenna pushed on. “Dressel Hills is going to be packed with competitive skiers,” she stated.

Manda knew all about that. No one had to remind her what she was up against. “I’m on top of things,” she said. “Coach Hanson thinks I have a good chance at first place this year.”

Jenna looked puzzled. “How can you possibly pull it off?”

“I just will,” she replied, feeling more and more resentful. Then, not thinking, she let it slip that she was headed for her first baby-sitting afternoon with Tarin Greenberg. Starting today. “I know I can handle everything.”

Jenna slouched down and clammed up. Livvy Hudson tried to carry the rest of the meeting, handling duties as vice-prez, while Jenna had her silent tantrum. Heather Bock also seemed unhappy and embarrassed about it.

As a result, the meeting was adjourned twenty minutes early. And not a single thing was accomplished, except for the annoying, bossy words dished out by the president.

Manda was thoroughly upset with Jenna. She didn’t hang around for refreshments—healthy snacks, of course. Since the four of them were aspiring athletes, it was important to serve up finger foods like celery sticks and carrots, raw cauliflower and broccoli. Today, they could enjoy their snacks, just the three of them. Without her!

She headed for the door, hoping to sneak out unnoticed.

“Psst, I’ll call you,” Heather whispered.

“Okay, see ya!” Manda wiggled her fingers at her friend. She wanted to tell her to say hi to her cute brother Kevin but didn’t.

Thank the Lord for Heather
, she thought. Without Heather Bock in her life, she might’ve felt truly alone. But she knew the blond-headed ice dancer was a loyal friend, if there ever was one!

Manda was gone and glad to be out of there. She was off to her baby-sitting job on Wood Avenue. Tarin the Terrible was waiting.

So was his father!

There was no time to chat with Mr. Greenberg before he left. Manda wanted to complain about Tarin’s extremely advanced vocabulary and the fact that she thought it was something he was putting on just for show. But all too quickly she was left solely in charge of the bland-faced kid, without a clue as to his true mental abilities.