by Mary Bard
Jet began to whine and Suzie looked at her wrist watch. “It’s after five and Grandmother will be cross. Mother will be home, and I haven’t set the table or made the salad.” She backed rapidly down the ladder and raced back across the orchard with Jet.
She banged open the kitchen door and gasped, “Guess what!”
Grandmother was standing with her back to Suzie, stirring something on the stove. “I don’t have to guess. You have no more sense of time than a cricket.”
Suzie said, “I’m sorry I’m late, but just wait ’til I tell you why. Mother, I’ll bet you can’t ever guess what’s happened!”
Suzie’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table correcting papers and drinking a cup of tea. She smiled at Suzie and said, “Come over and give me a big kiss. My, you have pink cheeks! What have you been doing?”
Suzie rushed over and hugged her mother. “You’ll just never believe it, but a man who looks exactly like a movie star is really moving into the Pink House, only his wife doesn’t look like a movie star—she looks like a thin black crane and has eyebrows clear across her forehead and they have a little girl and her name is Clothilde only they call her ‘Co Co’ and she has straight black hair and bangs and she says ‘eet’ instead of ‘it’ and ‘weeth’ instead of ‘with’ only she speaks half English and half French and she sounds just like those French songs on the radio and . . .”
Grandmother said, “Slow down, Suzie, slow down. You’re talking like an express train. I hate to interrupt you, but Mother has to go to a meeting and the table must be set.”
Suzie rushed into the pantry and began to grab knives and forks, talking steadily, “And they’re making the pool into a regular Hollywood swimming pool and planting all sorts of flowers and it’s going to be just gorgeous. Oh, this is the most exciting day of my whole life!”
She stopped in front of her mother. “One thing I am disappointed about. I hoped her mother would have blond curly hair and dark-blue eyes and dimples and be pretty the way you are, but Mademoiselle, which is what Co Co calls her, looks as if she didn’t even know how to smile. Why, she even wears a kind of a black wedding veil.”
Suzie’s mother laughed. “If Co Co calls her ‘Mademoiselle,’ she probably isn’t her mother.”
“Well, I hope not because both Co Co and her father look just darling and Mademoiselle has pinchy lips and a pointed nose and sounds kind of like a cross teacher. . . .” Suzie clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry—but you never sound like a cross teacher. You’re always just darling. No wonder everybody in school says you are the prettiest teacher in the whole city. I wish Co Co’s mother looked exactly like you.”
Grandmother said, “And you’re as alike as two peas in a pod, Suzie. Now for heaven’s sake, let’s get the table set and the salad made, or your mother will never get to that meeting.”
Suzie started to make the salad, and her mother finished setting the table. While they worked Suzie told about the tennis court and the patio and repeated every word that Co Co and her father had said, except the French words.
When Grandfather came in he said, “I hear Bill Langdon’s back in town. I’d better go over there tomorrow and see what I can do to help him.”
That started Suzie off again, and she told her Grandfather a thoroughly mixed-up account of the afternoon, ending with, “Please, Grandfather, may I go with you when you go over there? I want to talk to Co Co. Please—please?”
Grandfather said, “We’ll see, Suziekins, we’ll see,” and began to read the paper.
Suzie’s mother said quietly, “I think it would be best, Suzie, to wait until after Grandfather talks to Mr. Langdon.”
“Ohhhh, Mo-o-ther!” Suzie wailed.
Grandmother said, “I’ll certainly be interested to hear what Bill Langdon has to say about letting that house stand vacant all these years. Not one word. Perfectly ridiculous waste of money, not to speak of the housing shortage.” She glanced at Suzie, who was now listening so hard her mouth was open. “I won’t go into it because little pitchers have big ears.”
Suzie said, “Ohhhh, Grandmother!” and wished for the hundredth time that Grandmother would not call her a pitcher the minute the conversation became really interesting.
She leaned over and whispered to her mother, “Is Co Co’s father, Bill Langdon?”
Her mother nodded. “I think so, darling. Now, eat your dinner.”
That was another thing—Suzie wished grown people would not say, “Eat your dinner.” They talked and talked and sometimes ate so slowly that they were at the table long after she was in bed, but they always said, “Eat your dinner,” to her, the moment the conversation was so interesting she could hardly swallow. She heaved a large sigh and said, “Honestly!” and slowly chewed one cold string bean.
She put down her fork. “Grandmother, I hope I’m not being rude, but when you were almost twelve, did you like to be called ‘a little pitcher’?”
Grandmother tried to look stern, but her face was twitching with suppressed laughter as she answered, “No, Suzie, indeed I did not, and I liked even less to hear ‘Children should be seen and not heard,’ although goodness knows I heard it often enough.”
“Are you mad at Mr. Langdon?”
“No, but it’s just one of those things I’d prefer not to discuss. When it comes right down to it, I guess my feelings are hurt. Bill Langdon’s just like my own son, and not one word all these years. I’ll certainly give him a chance to explain but . . .”
Suzie’s mother broke in, “Suzie, Bill Langdon is just your uncle Jim’s age. We used to play together all the time when we were children. I think Grandmother thought we might get married when we grew up. Actually Bill always treated me like a little sister—not a date.”
“A date! Heavens to Betsy!” Suzie looked at her mother and tried to imagine her having a date.
Her mother grinned and continued. “Bill went East to college, and then after he graduated he went to Europe with an oil company. He married a French girl, and I imagine Co Co is probably their child.”
Suzie stared thoughtfully at her mother. “And you went to the University and learned to be a teacher and married Daddy and had me. But I still don’t see why I can’t play with Co Co.”
Grandfather cleared his throat. “We’ll let bygones be bygones and be as neighborly as we always have been.”
Suzie’s mother said, “Perhaps it would be just as well not to mention the Langdons at school, until after we have talked to them, Suzie.”
Suzie promised and crossed her heart. But she could almost see Millicent and the Select Seven gasping with envy when she stood in the center of the group during recess and told them all about Co Co and her father and the Hollywood swimming pool. She thought, That’s the trouble with secrets. The minute you hear one, you always think of all the people you could tell it to. She made an extra cross on her heart and bit the tip of her finger to remind her not to tell one soul.
Suzie’s mother smiled. “Come on, darling. I must get to that meeting.”
Suzie picked up two plates and stared at her mother. “Did you and Mr. Langdon go steady, Mother?”
Her mother didn’t answer for a minute, and there was a dimply smile on her face as she said, “No, Suzie. We used to swim and sail and dance together. I had a crush on him, but he probably never thought of me except as Jim’s little sister. He used to call me ‘Pest,’ to be perfectly honest with you.”
Suzie slowly wandered back and forth, trying to imagine what it would be like if her mother had married Mr. Langdon. “Would we have lived in the Pink House, Mother?” she asked.
“I doubt it. Bill’s family tore down the old house and built that one after Bill went to Europe. When they died, he came back and closed the house and said he never wanted to see it again. Now, stop moving like a snail. By the way, how did your May poster turn out?”
The mention of the May poster reminded Suzie of Millicent and the Select Seven and being called teacher’s pet and
all of her hurts and slights. Immediately her mouth turned down and she said dramatically, “Don’t be surprised if our whole room gets expelled. Today was just terrible. Millicent—well, I’ll bet you just can’t imagine what happened!”
Suzie’s mother took Suzie’s chin in her hand and said, “Let me see, I imagine that the firebell rang and Millicent stood in front of the door and wouldn’t let anyone out and the smoke began to curl and the flames to crackle.”
Suzie smiled but she continued in the same whiney, dramatic voice, “You just don’t know. Millicent was just awful.” Her voice rose as she stalked into the dining room. “And that wasn’t the worst. Right in the middle of science, Miss Morrison announced that she isn’t coming back next year.” She swished over and flapped a dish towel. “I could give you a million guesses and you’d never guess why. Miss Morrison—is—going—to—get—married!”
“So she told me. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Mother! Honestly! I’ll have you know Miss Morrison is going to marry a principal. If that isn’t just about the craziest thing anybody ever heard of. Honestly!”
“Why, Suzie, what’s wrong with that? Everybody likes Mr. Wagner.”
“Mother! In the first place he’s a principal, and in the second place, he’s so old!”
Suzie’s mother laughed. “He isn’t very old, Suzie. He’s just about my age, and I’m still able to creep around a little. We all think it’s a wonderful idea. They have so much in common, and they’ve known each other for ages.”
“It’s all very well for you to laugh, Mother, but nobody your age gets married.”
“Oh, come now! What about all those movie stars?”
“That’s different. They’re glamorous, but not teachers and principals. That’s ab-so-lute-ly im-pos-sible! And another thing . . .” As Suzie dried each dish she added another highly exaggerated account of all the awful things that happened in school.
Finally Suzie’s mother said, “You’re not behaving one bit like yourself lately, Suziekins. What is really bothering you?”
Suzie was quiet for a long time while she tried to think of some way to tell her mother why she felt so crabby and whiney. You certainly couldn’t tell your own mother that you wished more than anything she wasn’t a teacher. The Select Seven said it certainly was neat to have your mother do all your homework and see that you got good grades and never got caught at anything. But it wasn’t neat—it was just awful. If she tried to act polite and quiet and get good grades so her mother wouldn’t be embarrassed, they called her “teacher’s pet.” If she tried to act smarty and not study, they whispered, “Suzie Green thinks she’s smart. She can get away with murder. Her mother’s a teacher. Pretty neat!”
Anyway she didn’t feel one bit like herself. She felt like three different people. The Suzie who went to school was so mixed-up and scared she didn’t dare raise her hand. The Select Seven were so mean she just stood around on the playground by herself wishing she were bossy and boy crazy like Millicent.
Practically the only time she didn’t want to be like Millicent was when they were having sports. Rich and Ray both said she pitched like a boy. When she was riding her bike or climbing trees she certainly didn’t want to be an old scaredy cat like Millicent. That was the second Suzie.
And she realized she was now being the third Suzie and trying to talk like the Select Seven and making everything she told sound like a radio serial. Of course her mother thought she was whining and feeling sorry for herself, but you couldn’t tell her you wished she’d stop being a teacher and just be a regular mother.
Suzie dragged her feet across the kitchen and slammed a cupboard door. “I’m just sick and tired of being an only child—not only in this house but in the whole darned neighborhood. Oh, what’s the use? Not one single soul understands!”
Suzie’s mother said, “Suzie, I’ve been thinking about your May poster. Why don’t you paint one that would show a new child, like Co Co, how much fun an American school really is?”
Instantly Suzie stopped glowering and shuffling her feet. She threw her arms around her mother. “Gosh, I’m glad you’re a teacher. You always have the neatest ideas! Oh, I left my paints down in the Lookout. Would you have time to walk down with me and get them? Then I could do some sketches while you are at the meeting. Oh, Mother, you’re the neatest mother in the world!”
Suzie’s mother shook her head. “Suzie, you are what is known as a mercurial character. We’ll have to hurry because it’s almost eight o’clock.”
As Suzie skipped along beside her mother, the blossoming trees were milky in the twilight, the light on the mountain peaks was a filmy pink, and the sailboats were like little white triangles of paper on the darkening lake. “Oh, what a beautiful evening,” she sang as she climbed up into the Lookout, collected her paints and her big drawing tablet, and started down the ladder.
She looked down on the Pink House and her heart came up in her throat. No longer did it lie like a wrapped Christmas package under the trees waiting to be opened. Tonight lights shone invitingly from the doorway, the house was bathed in the same delicate pink glow as the mountains, the pool gleamed like a blue turquoise, the gardens were shadowed, and night birds called softly to one another in the opalescent twilight.
Suzie called down, “Mother, I can hardly believe it. The people in the Pink House are real!”
Chapter Two
A French Friend
During school the next morning, Suzie was so happy that Miss Morrison had to remind her several times to pay attention. No matter how hard she tried to keep her mind on her lessons, she kept seeing Co Co’s face and hearing her say, “Oui, Papa,” and “Oui, Mademoiselle,” and wondering if she would come to Maple Leaf and be in Miss Morrison’s room.
Miss Morrison said, “Suzie, I must have your attention,” and Millicent hissed, “Teacher’s pet,” but instead of blushing and hanging her head, Suzie smiled at Miss Morrison and Millicent, and said, “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
On the playground after lunch, Rich and Ray were coaching Suzie to improve her pitching arm. Ray explained, “That’s good, but if you want to pitch a curve, you’ve gotta hold the ball like this, see?”
Millicent walked over, followed by the Select Seven and said, “Fourteen looks like the cat that swallowed the canary. She wouldn’t be so smart if she knew that five asked me for a date.” She pointed at Suzie and they all whispered and giggled. Instantly the Pink House secret began to buzz around inside of Suzie like a bee in a jar. She almost opened her mouth and let the secret out, but Ray said, “Shut up, Millicent. Suzie, you’re the only girl who can pitch, but you’ve gotta wind up first like this, see?” He wound up and threw the ball clear out of the playground.
While Ray was getting the ball, Rich continued, “But dear Millicent throws underhand, like this.” He danced up to Millicent and tossed the ball right under her nose. She screamed and threatened to tell Miss Morrison whereupon Rich, in a squeaky imitation of her bossy voice said, “Oh, girls, I almost forgot—five plus two equals Seven Sickly Saps.” All the boys laughed and slapped their thighs, the girls giggled, and Millicent flounced off to tattle.
All afternoon Millicent whispered in code and called Suzie “teacher’s pet,” but Suzie found she didn’t even care, and for the first time began to think that perhaps Millicent wasn’t so important after all.
The moment school was dismissed, Suzie grabbed her books and ran all the way home. She burst in the kitchen door, and gasped, “Grandmother, did anything new happen? Could you see what they were doing? Did you see Co Co?”
Grandmother said, “Trucks going back and forth all day long. I’ll admit I am so curious I almost climbed up into the Lookout, but Bill Langdon might think it a little odd if he found me crouching in a tree at my age. Oh, yes, I have something for you.”
Suzie danced up and down with impatience while Grandmother picked Snowball, her white kitten, off her shoulder and set him down among the re
d geraniums on the window sill, with, “There, now—you can play jungle.” She brushed Marigold, her yellow cat, off her lap, with, “Pardon me, but I have to stand up.” She stepped carefully around Smokey, her gray cat, who was winding around her legs and purring, with, “I trust you are not telling me you are going to have kittens again,” and finally reached behind her and handed Suzie a small picnic basket covered with a red checked napkin. “See if that’s enough. I put in two bottles of orangeade, two straws, two apples, and four ginger cookies.”
“Enough for what?” Suzie asked.
“Enough for you and Co Co. It always seems so much easier to get acquainted with strangers when you are both eating something. Now skip up and change your clothes and for goodness sake, remember everything that happens so you can tell me.”
“Oh, Grandmother, you’re so neat!” Suzie hugged her grandmother and flew up the back stairs. She jerked on jeans and a T-shirt, rushed downstairs, and grabbed the basket, blew a kiss, whistled to Jet, and ran as fast as she could go to the Lookout.
She climbed up the ladder and there, sitting cross-legged on the floor and reading a book, was Co Co.
Suzie blushed and said all in one breath, “Hello, I’m Suzie Green and this is Jet, our dog, and I’m so glad you’re going to move in.”
Co Co nodded. “Bonjour, Suzie. Bonjour, Jet. I am delighted to meet you. I regret if I intrude. I climbed on the platform to see the mountains and the lake. We see all of America from here. Do we not?”
“Oh gosh, no! This is just a little part of western Washington. Grandmother fixed us a picnic. Would you like some?”
Co Co’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Indeed, yes. With pleasure. I am always hungry. We live at the hotel until our house is ready.” She spread her hands. “It is horrible! So dark, so ugly!”