Interrupted (6 page)

I frowned. Honestly, pink was following me everywhere.

I turned to Irene as realization dawned on me. “You own this restaurant.”

Irene stared at me in silence before throwing back her head and laughing — a half choking, half snorting sound that
was utterly charming and unpredictable. I ducked my head again.

“Why,
honey
,” Irene chuckled, glancing at Beatrice, “you didn’t realize that?”

Even Miss Beatrice couldn’t resist a smile. “It is called Goodey’s Diner, Alcyone.”

“I can’t take all the credit for it, though.” Irene grinned at Beatrice. “Mom gave Daniel and me the money to start it.”

I risked a sideways glance at Miss Beatrice and took a long sip of my tea. She gave Irene a warm smile and then sent it in my direction.

As if I needed her smiles. Or her love. As if I would ever be part of her big, happy “family.”

A knot formed in my stomach and I looked away. All of a sudden I felt tired and lonely and homesick. And empty.

“I don’t want to go to church.”

Miss Beatrice’s eyes widened. “Why not?”

I stuck my chin out and looked away. “Mama says church is for superstitious fools who don’t have enough guts to stand on their own two feet.”

Miss Beatrice put down the pretty white dress and bit her lip. “I see.” She sat down in the armchair and folded her hands in her lap, as if trying to think of what to do. “Allie,” she finally said, “faith isn’t about superstition or leaning on others because you haven’t got any … guts. It takes guts to believe sometimes. To know that even when things don’t look like they’re going well, God is still there and he’s still guiding you. Faith like
that — the faith to trust Christ enough to take the place for your sins and take control of your life. Faith like that takes all the guts in the world. And it’s worth it. Do you believe me?”

I squirmed under her gaze and refused to answer. “There is no God,” I muttered.

As if shocked by a powerful current, Miss Beatrice stood and crossed over to the window. She pulled back the deep-red curtains and let the sunlight pierce the room.

I squinted as my eyes strained to adjust. Outside the window, a thick green vine hugged the glass, and on its end a small purple morning glory lifted its face toward the sun.

After opening the window, Miss Beatrice reached out and fingered the flower. “Allie, if there is no God, who do you think made the flowers? Who do you think made you?”

I focused on the wall to her left. “It doesn’t matter because I’m in charge of myself. No God is going to rule me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and lifted my chin.

She sighed and shut the window. “I will be going to church, if you wish to come with me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “No, thank you.”

“Very well. I won’t make you.” Miss Beatrice paused in the doorway. “I don’t mind you staying home alone for an hour, if you promise to behave.”

“I promise.”

“Very well.” Her mouth twitched. “But I have always said that —”

“Why do you do that?”

She blinked slowly, clearly unused to being interrupted. “Do what?”

I swung my legs and crossed them under my little chair. “You start many of your statements with, ‘I always say …’ ” I tilted my head. “I was just wondering why.”

In a way I never would have expected of an older woman, Miss Beatrice rolled her eyes and opened the door. A smile played around on her lips. “I always say a child should never question an adult.”

“That one didn’t rhyme,” I pointed out.

She grinned and shut the door.

T
he house seemed even bigger and emptier when I was the only living thing in it. I walked around the kitchen, taking the time to study everything while no one could see me.

My stomach grumbled, leading me to the icebox. The amount of food took me aback: there was milk and eggs and fruit and anything else you could want. I reached for a jar of pickles, then halted.
This is Miss Beatrice’s food, not mine
.

I shut the icebox firmly and made my way into the library. My pace slowed as I examined the titles.
The Travels of Marco Polo … Alice in Wonderland … The Adventures of Robin Hood … Ivanhoe …

Miss Beatrice must have quite the imagination
.

I settled on a worn copy of
A Little Princess
and sat down in a little chair by the window, so I could look out and see the roses.

As I flipped through the book’s pages, memories flooded back over me of reading by the fireplace with Mama. I could still see her face, concentrated on her knitting, helping me as I stumbled over the harder words.

Shutting the book with a thud, I slipped it back on the shelf and left the library.

“I assure you, no one will stare,” Miss Beatrice said.

I glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s just a schoolyard, Alcyone. They’re just children.”

I looked out the window at the dozens of boys and girls, dressed in clean, pressed dresses and slacks, running up to the doorstep of the school.

I gulped. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Pish-posh.” Miss Beatrice reached over and opened up my door. She bent her forehead until her eyes were only a few inches from mine. “You can and you will do this, Alcyone.”

As soon as she turned to climb out of the car, I sent a fierce scowl at her back, feeling a little better.

I reached down to smooth my burgundy school dress, glancing about as Beatrice marched up the school steps. A few of the children stopped to stare at me.

The principal’s office was obsessively clean. White-washed walls, scratch-free floors, stainless desks. I squirmed and ducked behind Beatrice, and was immediately mad at myself for doing so.

“Can I help you?” the secretary sighed, looking at us from behind her silver-framed glasses. She twisted her piece of pink gum around her finger.

“Yes,” Miss Beatrice said, motioning to me with a grand air. “This is Alcyone Lovell.”

“Alcyone
Everly
,” I interrupted.

My correction fell on deaf ears. “I’ve come to enroll her in the ninth grade.”

The secretary stared at me for what seemed like a whole minute before drawling, “I see. And how do you spell that?”

Suddenly, the door burst open and a pretty blonde girl flew in. Her golden curls, tousled from the activity, whipped around behind her as she stuck her tongue out at a grinning boy and stamped her foot. “You stay away from me, Andy Brown, ya hear?” With a regal air, she turned and rolled her eyes at the secretary. “He just will not leave me alone!” With a fluid motion she straightened and smiled at me. “Hi, I’m Charlie, who are you?” A slight Southern accent made the words float across the air. “Where’re you from? Are you just visiting or staying forever?” She tilted her head. “Have I seen you before?”

I must have looked like a total fool as I stood there and stared at her, because after a moment she wrinkled her nose and turned to the lady behind the desk. “Miss Mary, what’s wrong with this girl?”

Mary sighed again and pushed up her glasses. “Dunno. She still hasn’t given me her name.”

Miss Beatrice leaned forward and pointed at Mary’s book. “A-l-c-y-o-n-e.”

The girl turned toward me again and beamed, flipping a
stray curl off her shoulder. “I’m Charlie Cooper. My daddy’s the principal here. As of last year, at least.”

“Charlie? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”
Great, now I’ve probably offended her
.

Charlie snorted and threw back her curls. “Oh, no, not at all. My real name’s Charlotte, but when I was young the boys took to callin’ me Charlie, and it stuck.”

“The boys?”

“My brothers. I’ve got five of them,” Charlie said proudly, sticking up her palm. “Now what’s your name?” She peeked over Miss Beatrice’s shoulder at the sheet. “Al-ki-o-nee?”

“You say it
Al-cee-u-nee
.” I paused. “But I like Allie. Allie Everly.”

“Oh.” Charlie looked me up and down for a second. “I like you, Allie,” she said suddenly. “You’ve got beautiful eyes. I just know we’re gonna be best friends.”

I looked down as I felt my cheeks heat.
Beautiful eyes?
They were just a light bluish-green. And I had plain, dark hair too. Not straight enough to hang loose and not curly enough to fluff; just sort of blackish-brown, wavy hair, rather than a gorgeous, golden halo like Charlie’s. And my freckles! Four under my right eye and five under my left! Talk about misfortune.

“I just know you’re going to love this school,” Charlie was saying — no, gushing — as she looped her arm in mine. She opened the door and let me pass through first. “I’ll show Allie to her class,” she called behind her as she led me down the hall.

I smiled and hugged my books to my chest. Boys were watching us discreetly as we made our way straight down the center. I glanced at Charlie and realized she was sort of strutting
down the hallway. If I tried to copy her gait, would I look like an actress or a waddling duck? I decided not to risk it.

“Why’s everyone looking at us?” I whispered.

Charlie looked around and for the first time seemed to recognize everyone around her. “Oh, don’t mind them,” she whispered back. “They always do that. You don’t realize it after a while, though.” She squeezed my arm. “Say, did you know I met FDR? Yeah, I was on summer vacation and …”

I held my head up high as I walked to my class. My
friend
was with me now.

The window seat of my new bedroom was the perfect place to look out over the ocean. In my hands I clutched a stuffed animal I’d found on the bed. It was a cute little bear, with button eyes and a brown nose. It looked homemade, which was probably the reason I chose it.

I looked back down at the notebook in front of me.

I let out a deep breath and looked back up at the sky. Can you see stars in heaven?

I paused and looked over what I’d written. It didn’t seem appropriate, so I ripped it out and started over.

I groaned softly and closed the notebook with a slam, biting my lip.

Someone knocked on the door. I looked up to see Miss Beatrice standing in the doorway, in good spirits. Her hair was down and around her white-robed shoulders.

“I see you found my teddy bear.”

I nodded and let go of the bear a little bit.

“His name is Mr. Bearington.”

I hid my smile deep down inside and frowned. “That’s a silly name.”

Miss Beatrice nodded and leaned in the doorway, watching me. “I haven’t seen him in ages. I was afraid he was gone forever.” She crossed the room and sat across from me on the window seat. I scooted away. “Isn’t that moon something?” she asked. “I watched it from this room when I was a little girl. And yet it never changes.” She looked down and rubbed the material
of her robe almost nervously. “Allie, I’m sorry. I know how hard this has been for you. A new life, a new family.”

She turned and looked me in the eye. A cheery smile spread over her face. “But we’ll get through this together.” I didn’t breathe as she reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, her eyes softening. “Allie.” Her hand lingered around my jaw. “I’ve always wanted another daughter.”

My breath left my lungs so quickly all I could do was recoil, banging my head against the wall. “I’ll
never
be your daughter.”

Miss Beatrice dropped her hand as if she’d been slapped. I thought I saw hurt and loneliness flash across her face, but then it was empty again.

Without another word, the door shut and I was alone.

I opened up my journal again and began to scribble fiercely, my tears making the page seem blurry.

I made a strangled sobbing sound, looking away. The moon was still shining, but now it seemed distant — almost like it was retreating from my view. I rubbed my hand across my eye and ripped out the page again.

I slammed the journal shut and put a hand over my mouth to muffle the tears. I looked down. Mr. Bearington was still in my other hand.

“Stupid bear!” I screamed, throwing it across the room. Then I collapsed against the window in tears, the glass cold against my sore, throbbing head.

“Oh, Mama,” I whispered into my arm, “I just want to go home.”

W
hat are you reading?”

I looked up to see Beatrice grimacing at me from across the table.
Why should I bother telling her it’s Emily Dickinson?
I broke our eye contact and turned the page.

Beatrice buttered a piece of toast. The clinking of her knife pierced the silent air. “I have to make sure our dresses are pressed for this afternoon. I’ll wear the green one and you will be wearing the new blue one.” Without even bothering to look at me squarely, she said, “Don’t make that face, Allie. Russell will think the blue one lovely.”

I put the book down just long enough to take a sip of milk. Natural light flooded the sunroom, casting shadows on my page.

“And our nylons have to be steamed too.” Beatrice frowned to herself.

The silence filled the table. For as long as I’d lived here, it had been like this. Awkward silence. Stilted conversation. Beatrice always reaching to pull something out of me that I wasn’t willing to give.

Beatrice took a last bite of toast. “You know what? I think I’m going to go get ready. Finish up, Allie. The party begins at one.”

She walked out of the dining room muttering, finally leaving me alone. I sighed and opened up Dickinson again.

My eyes skimmed the page, but none of the words sank in.

Gosh, could life be any more boring?

“And boom! We blasted their heads off!”

Laughter erupted among the group. I looked around to see Beatrice nodding as Debra Wilkinson gripped her arm. I forced a smile and went back to counting the blades of grass under my shoes. I held my notebook firmly behind my back so no one would take notice. Every fiber of my being longed to be giggling and talking with Charlie instead of being forced to play good society girl at this stupid party.

Humphrey Wilkinson laughed and rubbed his stomach. “Well,” he bellowed, “I said to myself, ‘Humphrey Wilkinson, you’ve done your job, killed your Germans, and soon you’ll win your war. Then you can go home and teach your good ol’ son to do the same.’ ” He patted Russell on the back.

“Papa,” Russell moaned, blushing like a little girl.

This time I smiled for real.
“Papa”? Oh, please
.

Russell glanced at me and grinned. “As soon as I marry I’ll get up and go join the war in Europe myself. Yes, sir, I will.”

My happy feelings vanished and I dropped my gaze back to the ground.
I wish they’d draft you now
. I winced.
That was a cruel thought
.

Humphrey’s booming laughter filled the lawn again. “That’s my boy!”

A late May breeze tickled my neck. For as far as I could see, prissy young ladies and prissy old ladies and prissy middle-aged ladies paraded about as obnoxious men laughed much too loudly.
What a wearisome day
.

Debra leaned toward Beatrice and spoke just loud enough for me to hear. “Russell’s always wanted to join the army. Ever since he was a boy, in fact. But his father and I told him he needed to find a wife first.” She smiled and checked to see if I was listening. “Tell me, Beatrice, has Allie had any boyfriends lately? Any young suitors crawling around at your place?” She winked.

Oh, that does it! Really, do these people have no discretion?
I sent visual daggers toward her back.

“No,” Beatrice said, sipping her lemonade. “She claims she’s too sensible for romance.”

I had to do something to stop this. Before long, they’d be choosing my wedding dress and discussing names for my children.

“Beatrice?” I tapped her on the shoulder. “Yes?” She turned around, annoyed.

I put on my sweetest face and rubbed my forehead. “May I please be excused? I have a terrible headache.”

“Of course. Just don’t wander far.”

I nodded and turned on my heel. I could hear them all laughing again at something—Humphrey’s booming voice covering all the others’. I took a final glance at the white mansion on the hill and shuddered.

“Allie!”

Someone grabbed my arm. I jumped and whipped around, practically knocking into Russell. I rolled my eyes and pulled my arm away, relieved. “Oh, Russell, you scared me! Could you come with a warning bell or something? I’d like to know when
you’re
behind me.” I tried to turn, but Russell reached out and touched my arm, startling me in a whole new way.

Russell wrung his pale, white hands. “I’d like to think I won’t soon need to be telling you. I mean, I’ll still be needing to tell you, but maybe soon you won’t need to be told or you won’t … Oh, Allie, was I being too presumptuous?” He reached out and grabbed my arm again.

What?
I stared at him for a moment, wondering what bad drama he’d seen at the theater last Friday. “By asking to follow me around?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No, my love. By making my intentions clear in front of everyone.” He tightened his grip on my arm, his small eyes crinkling in a poor imitation of a lover.

A woman walked by and raised her eyebrow at us.

“Russell!” I leaped back, tearing myself from his grasp. I resisted the urge to wipe my arm against my dress. “Russell, I have to tell you —”

“No!” Suddenly Russell’s finger was pressed against my lip, silencing me. My eyes widened and I stared at him in silence,
too afraid to move. “Let me be the first to speak,” Russell cried. I gulped. People were beginning to stare.

“I mean to marry you, Allie,” Russell proclaimed. “I mean for you to marry me. I mean for us to be husband and wife. To be a family. I mean for —”

“I don’t want to marry you, Russell!” I slapped his hand away and took a step back, very much disturbed, though I tried to look relaxed and pleasant. “Enjoy the party.”

I pivoted and practically ran away from him, conscious of the crowd now gathering to watch the spat. Why was my life so complicated?

When I chanced a look back, Russell was shrugging. “She doesn’t want to rush things,” I thought I heard him say.

I shuddered.
He is a creep. Or incredibly dense
.

“Oh, Allie, there you are. Come here.” Beatrice motioned toward me, acting as if she hadn’t seen me in years. “I want you to say hello to Miss Rachel.”

Great
. Brushing off my skirt, I trudged over to the table where Beatrice and Miss Rachel were sitting. “Good afternoon.”

Rachel Piper smiled slowly, revealing two rows of even teeth. Then she sighed and patted her gray pompadour. “How are you, Alcyone?”

“Just fine, thank you.” The back of my leg itched. I lifted a foot to scratch it, careful not to let anyone see. Beatrice especially wouldn’t let me hear the end of it — she’d been trying for years to get me to act “proper.” As I checked to make sure my actions had stayed discreet, my eyes met with a young
man sitting across the garden. He smiled at me, his blue eyes crinkling.

How
do
I even know they were blue? I’d never seen him before.

Beatrice touched my arm and smiled. “Rachel was just telling me about the delightful garden party she held last weekend. Would you like to hear, Allie?”

I fought a grimace. “No, thanks.”

Miss Rachel raised a pointed eyebrow. “I see,” she said, pursing her lip. “Tell me, Alcyone: have you met my nephew, Samuel? He’s staying with me for the summer.”

I shook my head. “Sorry.”
Oh no. Now I’m going to have to stand here for another half hour and listen to her praise her precious nephew
. But something niggled in the back of my mind.

Miss Rachel raised a gloved hand and waved it. “Samuel! Come over here!” She grabbed my hand, as if afraid I would leave the table at any moment. “You must meet your neighbor.”

I turned and saw the young man across the garden rise and make his way toward us. Up close, I could tell I was right about his eyes. My head felt pinched.
How … how do I know his face?

“Hello,” he said, extending a hand to Beatrice. “I’m Samuel.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’ve always said that a new friend is a journey on life’s fresh bend.” Beatrice smiled and turned to say something to Miss Rachel.

Samuel raised an eyebrow before turning and sticking out his hand. “And your name is?”

I stared at him in silence.
His face … his hair … his eyes … What’s wrong with me?
My brain felt fuzzy.
Maybe I’m getting a tumor!
I gulped, feeling panicked.
What are the first signs?

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

I jerked to attention, nearly knocking Samuel’s arm. He had a wry smile on his lips, obviously enjoying my discomfort. “Allie,” I said, avoiding his hand.

He chuckled and pulled his arm back in. “And, um, are you okay, Allie?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” I looked around.
An escape. I need an escape
. “I, uh … I have to go.” I spun on my heel and ran down toward the beach, clutching my notebook to my chest.

The cold waves lapped against my bare toes. I wiggled them in the sand and smiled to myself. Resituating myself on the rock, I held my drawing away from me and studied it. From the safety of shore, I could still hear people enjoying the party.

Russell’s nose isn’t quite that big
. I bit my lip and erased the nose. With a few quick lines, the problem was solved.

I looked down at the page again. Maybe a picture of Russell wasn’t quite appropriate next to a page containing a lovely poem about the moon. But it had to fit somewhere. I would not survive this day if I couldn’t take out all my frustration into a horrid drawing of Russell as
I
saw him.

“Who’s that?”

I jumped and looked up. I could just make out a man’s figure from behind my curtain of dark hair. Since when did my hair come loose?

I pushed the hair aside and saw Samuel standing in front of me. One dark eyebrow was cocked, his mouth crinkling in amusement.

I glanced down at the caricature and blushed. It certainly wasn’t the most polite portrait to be caught drawing.

The young man was still smirking. I noticed his trousers were rolled up and his brown hair was tousled from the wind.

I finally spoke. “Wh-what?”

“I said, ‘Who’s that?’ ” He pointed at the portrait.

“No one. No one at all.” I tilted the notebook away from him and tried to scare him off with a withering glare.

He just smiled and leaned close enough to look over my shoulder. “Doesn’t look like no one. Looks to me like an ugly rich boy. Your boyfriend?”

I snapped the notebook shut and snorted. “No, thank goodness.”

“Then your sister’s boyfriend.”

“No.”

“Hmmm …” He began strolling down the shore. I saw he was barefoot too. “I’ve got it!” He snapped his fingers and grinned. “Your brother! No, your cousin?”

I let my mouth raise a little. “Try again.”

Samuel studied me. “Could he be the reason you left the party? An unwanted suitor perhaps?”

My eyebrows flew up. I hid my smile and smoothed out my skirts. “No, actually his name was Rumpelstiltskin, but I knew you’d never guess it.”

The boy smiled, his blue eyes crinkling. “It was on the tip of my tongue.”

I doubted that. “Sure it was.”

He swept into an elegant bow. “Honest, my lady,” he said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and opened up my notebook again, continuing my sketch of Russell. This time I threw in a few extra touches to make him as prissy as possible.

“Unfortunately for you, I learned in princess school never to trust the word of a stranger. Especially not bareheaded, shoeless, beach-roaming vagabonds. So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” Even as the words flew out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe it was me saying them. My tone was full of arrogance and rudeness, but could it also be interpreted as inviting? My cheeks flushed. I hoped not.

“Well then, I shall just have to prove my innocence to you another way.” He motioned to the ocean. “A swimming contest, perhaps?”

I looked down, straightening my back. “No, actually I don’t swim. Especially not with
strangers
.”

“Don’t or can’t?”

I hated that he was challenging me. “Can’t.”

He smirked. “Now’s a perfect time to learn.”

The book was slammed shut again. “Are you crazy? I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Neither do I.”

“The water’s probably freezing.”
Who was this ridiculous …

“Only one way to find out.”

I looked up, frustrated, and caught a mischievous gleam in his eye. He was daring me. “I don’t even know you,” I said. The challenge lingered in the air, taunting me. I knew I shouldn’t, but I was too stubborn to resist.

I followed him to the edge of the water and dipped my toe in. I was right — It was cold. “Beatrice will kill me.”

He raised an eyebrow, and I knew I had to do it. I shut my eyes and took a step into the water, wincing when the water reached my knees and caused my dress to cling to my legs. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

He looked pleased. “Just like that. Nice and easy. It’s not so bad, is it?”

I scowled at him. “I’ve hardly reached my knees.”

“You’re almost halfway there.”

I frowned at him and his silly, roguish smile. Goosebumps popped up on my legs. I held my skirts tight. “I’m not getting in any farther. I can’t go back to the party wet. I’m just going to go back.”

I started to turn around and make my way back to the sand.

“Allie!” Samuel suddenly shouted. “Get b —” And then his voice was muffled by the gurgling sound of rushing water.

A wave crashed on my back, whipping my feet out from under me. I let out a gurgled scream as my world turned to freezing, swirling blackness. I flailed in the water, tried to stand, and fell back down. “Oh no.” My voice came out panicky and waterlogged. “Oh, dear heavens. Oh my word.”

Samuel came up laughing, water sputtering out of his mouth. He shook his head, droplets flying.

I stood and twisted my skirt back into place as the water retreated back into the ocean. I pushed the hair out of my face, and noticed sand covered my backside. Beatrice would die when she saw me.