Pause.
He must be on the phone.
“How do you think she’s going to react?” There was sarcasm in his voice. “Not to mention, how do you think he’s going to react?”
Pause.
“Look, I’m just not sure I see the point of—”
Pause.
“Yes, yes, I know. I don’t have a better idea, but I need some time to think about it.”
Pause.
“No, we’ll do it together. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet. I’ll be in touch.”
The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck were standing straight up. When she finally let out the breath she was holding, she noticed a throbbing in her hand. She’d been concentrating so hard on trying to make sense of what her dad was saying, she hadn’t noticed that her fingers had practically fused to the hot mug. He was talking about her. Why? Who was Scotty? And who was “he”? And what wasn’t her dad ready for?
An eternity passed. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Well, I can’t stand here forever. Good chance she was making a big deal of nothing. She’d just ask him. Whatever it was, he was probably planning on telling her anyway.
She knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open.
Her dad glanced up. Though the conversation had ended ages ago, he was still holding the receiver. A strange look flashed across his face. “Hey. Didn’t hear you come home,” he said. But his tone was off, like he was trying too hard to sound normal.
Lucy squinted at him, then announced, “Tea,” and placed the mug on his desk.
He smiled weakly and set the receiver back in the cradle. “How was the funeral home?”
“Fine, I guess.” Her eyes shifted to the phone. “I didn’t interrupt, did I?”
“Oh…um….” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “No, no. Just work stuff.”
She tried again. “New case or something?”
“Yes. No.” He made a production of blowing on his tea. “I mean, not mine…Jonathan’s…from the office. He wanted to meet me tonight, get my opinion.” His eyes stayed on the rim of his mug. “But I don’t have time. I’ve got to go to the visitation.”
“Oh.” Lucy didn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t want him to keep lying. “Okay. I’m gonna go work on my project.” She backed out of the room, leaving him shuffling and reshuffling a pile of papers.
Her dad never lied to her. Even when her mom was sick and everyone else had avoided giving her a straight answer, he hadn’t. He hadn’t tried to shelter her or protect her feelings. He had put it all out there and told her the truth.
So why was he lying to her now?
Chapter 3
As the days passed, Lucy kept waiting for her dad to say something like, “Listen, pumpkin, about the other day. That phone call wasn’t from Jonathan…” But it didn’t happen. And for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.
She should just forget about it. He was a grownup, after all. He had a right to have his own secrets, things he didn’t feel the need to share with her. That was fine; she could live with that. Plus, there was no proof it had anything to do with her. Even as she was telling herself all this, she was shaking her head. Of course it has something to do with me. I heard my name.
Three nights in a row, she lay in bed trying to list off every person she’d ever met. Neighbours new and old, people from her dad’s work, guys from his basketball team, guys he golfed with, couples he and Mom had played bridge with, relatives, anyone she could remember from her mom’s funeral. There was no Scotty.
She began to study her dad every chance she got, in spite of the fact she had no idea what was she looking for. The only thing she noticed was that he seemed distracted, a little on edge. Did it have something to do with that phone call? She knew she was distracted by that phone call.
Or maybe he just missed Mom. She knew she missed Mom.
It took almost three weeks, but then it finally happened.
Dad stuck his head in her bedroom door. “Hey, pumpkin. Pop down to my study when you’re finished, would you? I want to talk to you about something.”
He was trying to sound normal, casual, just like he had after that phone call, so she tried too. “Sure, Dad,” she said, not looking up from her textbook.
Once he left she sat on the bed tapping her pencil against her scribbler. What was she waiting for? Wasn’t this what she wanted?
She stood outside the study door, off to one side and out of her dad’s sightline. Why couldn’t she shake the feeling that whatever he was going to tell her, she wasn’t going to like? After a moment of rocking back and forth on her heels, she squared her shoulders and walked in.
He looked up from the folder in his hand as she plopped herself in the chair that faced his desk.
“That was quick,” he said.
Lucy shrugged.
“So, pumpkin, that was some great macaroni casserole you—”
“Dad.” She stopped him. “What did you want me for?”
“Well, uh….” He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you. I’ve been making some plans.”
Lucy scrunched her eyebrows together. “Plans?” Who would have thought that word could sound so ominous?
He nodded slowly, then continued: “School’s going to be out soon, so I’ve been giving some thought as to what I’m going to do with you for the summer.”
“What do you mean, do with me?”
He held up a hand. “Now, just hear me out. You might be pleasantly surprised.”
I doubt it. “Dad, you don’t need to make any plans for me. Mrs. Cooper wants me to babysit Sadie for the summer. And I really want to because I’m saving for a new cassette player,” Lucy blurted as fast as she could. “And I know what you’re going to say: ‘Don’t you already have one?’ But no, I don’t. That’s a tape recorder. It’s not the same thing.”
Dad smiled, but only with one side of his mouth. “Luce, honey. This summer I have two huge cases. They’re going to take up all my time, involve a lot of travel. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“But I won’t be. I’ll be looking after Sadie.”
“I think you’ll have to tell Mrs. Cooper no.”
“Why?”
“I told you. I don’t want to leave you alone all summer.”
And then the brochure about band camp flashed in her head. Oh God, no. This better not be about that. Maybe Scotty is the camp director or something.
She crossed her arms. “Is this about band camp?”
He frowned, a confused expression on his face. “No. Not band camp.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “You know, after last summer, your mom in the hospital all those months, both of us in a kind of fog, and well…everything that went with that.…”
Lucy felt a glob of something lodge in her throat. He was right. They had been in a kind of fog. It was the sadness—so heavy, so dense.
“I thought it would be good for you to do something completely different,” he said. “Like having a kind of do-over.”
Do-over? Now it was her turn to look confused.
He sighed. “Every time summer comes around, I don’t want you to associate it with your mom getting sick.”
“I won’t, Dad,” she said quietly. Though she didn’t know if that was true.
Shifting uncomfortably, he said, “I got a letter from Josie, and she’s offered to have you come stay with her for the summer. In Cape John.”
What? Once band camp was taken off the table, she’d had no clue what he was going to throw at her, and she certainly hadn’t been expecting this. “What?!”
“I know, I know, you’re probably not that big on the idea right now.”
“What?!” It was like she couldn’t process his words.
“Just thin
k about it. A change of scenery, getting out of the city for the summer.”
Lucy’s mouth fell open. He was serious. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m not!” He looked stung. “Don’t ever think that. It’s—”
“But I don’t even know Josie. I’ve met her like four times in my whole life!”
“All the more reason to spend some time with her,” Dad said reasonably.
“Dad!” She felt an overwhelming urge to stomp her foot, but she was sitting down.
“Lucy.” Leaning forward, he suddenly looked extra serious. “I think this summer could be….” It was like he was searching for the right word. “Life altering for you.”
“Life altering?” Her chest tightened. “I already had a life-altering summer,” she snapped.
For a minute, neither of them said anything.
She felt kind of bad for saying that, and for saying it that way, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.
“It’s in the middle of nowhere, Dad,” she said. “Nothing to do. No mall, no rec centre, no theatre, no friends, no nothing.”
He came out from behind his desk, sat on the corner, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’re overreacting. Cape John is beautiful. It’s quiet and peaceful, great beaches, you know how you love to swim. Most people would be jealous.”
She jerked her shoulder away. “You said you didn’t want me to be alone, but that’s exactly what I’ll be. Alone.”
“No, you won’t. You have family there—your mom’s family. You should get to know them.”
“But I want to go to band camp! Just send me to band camp!”
His eyes narrowed. “I always got the distinct impression you weren’t interested in band camp. Are you now telling me you want to go?”
Lucy thought about saying yes, but ended up looking down at her hands clenched in her lap. “But who’s going to look after you? You know, do the cooking and cleaning?”
“I’m a big boy. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“But what about Linus? Who’s going to look after him?”
“I think I can manage to look after the cat. Remember, you are talking about a cat who hates us and spends ninety-nine percent of his time outside and as far away from us as possible.”
Okay, he was right about the cat. “But, but—” She frantically searched for more excuses. She was out. “Please don’t make me go,” she pleaded. “I’ll be homesick, I know it. Pleeease, Dad.”
“Pumpkin,” he said softly. “You’ll be with Josie. Remember all those stories your mom told us about her? Now you’ll be able to see if they’re true.”
“I don’t care about the stories!”
“Lucy—”
“You know she’s deaf, right? How am I supposed to even talk to her?”
“You’ll manage. She’s an excellent lip—”
“And she swears. Did you know that? She swears a lot. I heard her!”
He tilted his head. “I don’t think a few bad words ever killed anyone.”
“Wow! That’s the kind of role model you want for me?”
“Your mom seemed to turn out okay.” He smiled. “More than okay.”
Throwing her mom into it was a low blow. Lucy lifted her chin. “Well, I’m not going. I’m just not going. You can’t make me.”
He got that serious look again. “I know this might be hard, but in the end, I think it will be a good thing.”
She stubbornly held his gaze even though she felt the prick of tears. “Why are you punishing me?”
“I am not punishing you. Just give yourself some time to get used to the idea.”
“And if I don’t get used to idea?”
Silence.
She mashed her lips together. “If I go and don’t like it, can I come home?”
More silence.
“Yeah! I didn’t think so!” She shot him an angry glare and stomped out of the study.
When she reached her room, she slammed the door and kicked her garbage can. It smacked into the wall beside her dresser and flipped upside down. Unfortunately, she had emptied her pencil sharpener yesterday, and now that part of her room was covered with a fine film of lead dust and pencil shavings. Kneeling on the floor to clean it up, she started to cry. Frustrated tears mixed with the black mess, making everything even worse.
Chapter 4
Lucy knew she could have put up more of a stink—kicked and screamed, maybe erupted into a number of cleverly timed crying fits—but in the end, it would have been a waste of energy. She had seen that look on her dad’s face before, the way he had set his jaw. He wasn’t changing his mind.
Standing in front of the calendar hanging on the back of her door, she drew an X in black marker, crossing off the days. As each day passed, she felt the life slowly being sucked out of her.
In a kind of zombie state, she made her way back and forth to school. When home, she would barricade herself in her room, determined to avoid any contact with her dad. There was no way she was going to cave and talk to him. Cherry on the sundae was that he didn’t seem to notice, which made Lucy think maybe they didn’t speak to each other that much.
She stubbornly maintained her silent treatment right through the school’s June fun fair, in spite of the fact that her dad volunteered to work the cake walk and they ended up having to spend the entire morning together. And continued it right through her fourteenth birthday, when she had shaken her head, crossed her arms, and refused to celebrate.
Her best friend, Sarah, sat on Lucy’s bed after school one afternoon. “I’m really gonna miss you, Luce. How many days left?”
“Thirteen. I’m gonna miss you, too.”
“The rec centre is going to be dead boring without you. And Mom’s still making me take swimming lessons.” Sarah stuck her finger in her mouth and made a gagging sound. “You know how I hate them.”
“I hate them too.” Lucy sniffed. “Wish I was taking them with you.”
They hugged, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders for a bit. Sarah pulled away first. “I finally have your birthday gift.” She got up and went to her book bag. “Sorry it’s late. I had to wait for the Donovans to pay me. God. They never have the cash. They always book me at least a week ahead. I don’t know why they act all confused and caught off guard when they have to pay me. Jeez.”
Momentarily pulled out of her funk, Lucy smiled. She really was going to miss Sarah. A lot.
Sarah placed a small, brightly wrapped gift in Lucy’s lap. Lucy excitedly ripped away the paper. It was the butterfly-shaped stickpin from the jewellery store in the mall that she had had her eye on for ages. Yes! But then her dad appeared in her bedroom doorway, causing her smile to immediately straighten into a thin line.
“Why don’t you let me take you girls out to the House of Mei Mei for supper?” he asked.
Lucy didn’t answer and began tearing up a scrap of wrapping paper into tinier pieces.
“We could even catch a movie first,” he added, trying to sound all chipper. “I tell ya, I’d love to see that Star Wars.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. Who was he kidding? He’d already seen it with the neighbours and had talked non-stop for days about the special effects. She’d already seen it with her friends. Three times. He knew that.
He sighed and leaned against the door frame.
“Oh, come on.” Sarah nudged her. “Let’s at least do dinner. It’s the buffet on Friday nights.”
Lucy kept on shredding the wrapping paper.
Her dad sighed again then turned to Sarah. “Tell her we have to do something for her birthday. I haven’t even given her a gift yet.”
“All the egg rolls and honey-garlic spareribs you can eat,” Sarah sang.
Lucy’s eyes shifted back and forth between Sarah and her dad. “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m
not talking.”
“Great!” Her dad beamed and made a loud clap with his hands.
At the restaurant, they slid into the booth, Lucy and Sarah on one side, her dad on the other. For Sarah’s sake, Lucy did manage to grunt out a few words, but they were mostly about her legs sticking to the vinyl bench and the blobs of plum sauce crusted on the table. Her dad presented her with a card containing twenty-five dollars along with the new Bee Gees album. She mumbled a thank you without making eye contact. He paid the cheque and the drive home was even more silent than the dinner. In the privacy of the back seat, Lucy pressed her hands against her cheeks. They felt hot. God, I’m being such a brat. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Lucy snapped the cap back on the marker after drawing the last X through Wednesday. Tomorrow. Thursday. Thursday was the day. Though she had been praying for some kind of reprieve, it obviously wasn’t coming. She couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to pack. She started lining up things on her bed, things she knew she couldn’t leave behind—her giant root beer Lip Smacker, her new stickpin from Sarah, her silver sparkly belt, her sequined butterfly T-shirt, and her super-wide-leg jeans. Two months of allowance had gone to pay for those jeans. In junior high your popularity was measured by the width of your pant leg. That’s what she used to think, anyway. It took her a while to realize they hadn’t really made a difference one way or the other. She stared at the denim blue against her pale green bedspread. It’ll probably be too hot for jeans. She put them back in her drawer.
There was a knock on her door. “Lucy?” It was her dad. “Why don’t you come out and watch some TV? We’ll watch whatever you want. Bionic Woman’s on soon.”
She didn’t answer.
“Come on, pumpkin. It’s our last night together for a while.”
Whose fault is that? She pushed in the lock button on the doorknob. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened. After a moment, she heard a loud sigh and the flip of his slippers as he retreated down the hall.
She turned and faced her closet, hands on her hips, as if waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. She started pulling clothes off hangers, scooping stuff off shelves. Folding was too time consuming, so she just tossed them across the room, forming a heap on the floor.
The Big Dig Page 3