by Mary Strand
We caught up with Dad a block away.
“Dad! You heard from Phil?” Breathless, I practically spat the words.
He turned around slowly, unsurprised, as if it were normal for him to be chased down the street. “Mary?”
I glanced at Jane, shrugged, and nodded.
He turned around again and kept walking, Jane and I flanking each side of him.
“Well? What did he say? Good news?”
“I haven’t had any good news in several days.”
Jane touched his arm. “C’mon, Dad. Tell us. They’re not getting married, are they?”
He sighed. “We’re not hillbillies, Jane, and I don’t know of any sixteen-year-olds who get married in Minnesota. Well, not my daughters, anyway.” He paused, staring into the distance at the setting sun. “Phil has suggested a somewhat ugly solution to Lydia’s problems, and your mother won’t like it, but he thinks there isn’t any alternative.”
I frowned. “Why don’t they just pursue charges against Justin and let Lydia go with a lecture about hanging out with assholes?”
“Lizzie.” Dad shook his head, but I’d heard him use the word “asshole” just an hour ago, talking about Justin. “Lydia is being released to Phil’s custody, but on the condition that she attend what Phil euphemistically refers to as a ‘boarding school.’ In Montana.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Montana?”
Dad nodded as he turned back to me. “I’m not sure that most people would call this particular school a boarding school. It’s often referred to by quite another name, but I hesitate to use that name with your mother.”
“Oh? What do you call it?”
“Reform school.”
“Reform school!” Jane’s eyes went wide. “Can they send her to one without a conviction?”
“The juvenile system doesn’t work in such an obvious way.” Dad motioned to Jane and me to keep walking. “Lydia doesn’t have a prior record, of course, which is good. But the city attorney is intent on cracking down on child prostitution, so Lydia’s timing is unfortunate. There is also, ah, a rather extensive body of evidence against her. So to speak.”
Jane’s nose wrinkled. “How so?”
Dad’s cheeks went a little pink. “What Lydia did was captured on a number of camera phones and such. The bar also had a videocamera, and it turned over the video in exchange for leniency against it for letting a minor perform certain, ah, acts.”
“Lewd acts?” Jane, ever pure, made a face.
“I’d rather not get into the particulars.” Dad shook his head. “I’m afraid she’ll never live it down. Certainly not if she returns home and goes back to her old school. No, I really think Phil’s suggestion is the right one.”
“Will it be expensive? Or is this one of those things that gets paid for by the state?”
Dad looked hard at me. “That’s the part I don’t understand. Phil claims she’ll be able to attend at no cost. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“So ask him to explain.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Dad turned back toward the house, with Jane and me sticking close by his side. “I just needed a breath of fresh air and a moment to think this through.”
“With us quizzing you.” I grinned. “Glad to be helpful.”
Dad tweaked my cheek, the way he used to when I was little. “You two are always helpful. I wish your younger sisters took after the two of you.” He smiled at Jane, who was blushing for reasons I could pretty much guess. “At least, when you’re not asking me to change your cell-phone number.”
She hadn’t in a year, miraculously enough, but I thought of Jane’s weird behavior with Charlie, which she and I still hadn’t discussed, thanks to all the drama about Lydia. I thought about Alex, life’s big riddle. Dad was better off not knowing the truth.
Dad rubbed his hands together briskly. “Well, I’d better get to it.” He glanced at each of us, as if searching for an answer that seemed obvious to me. “I’m not sure how to broach this with your mother. She’ll have to agree, of course.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Tell her that Lydia won a scholarship to an elite finishing school. Or maybe say she won the latest episode of ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos.’”
Dad just looked at me seriously. “I’m sorry, Lizzie, for even mentioning it. I’ll tell your mother the truth, of course. More or less.”
“I’m joking about making something up, but you don’t even know the truth about the money.”
Dad shook his head as we reached the front steps. “I’m guessing a place like this costs at least twenty thousand dollars a year.”
“Twenty thousand?” I coughed out the words, and Jane and I stared at each other. After Dad’s midlife crisis led him to a yoga mat, and Jane had to drop out of Carleton, I’d done the math before picking the U of M. Jailbait Lydia was going to cost Dad a fortune for the privilege of attending reform school. “How can you afford it?”
“I can pay for my daughters. Even for this escapade.”
No, he can’t. Another thought hit me. “Shouldn’t Justin pay? It’s really all his fault.”
“He was stealing to maintain even his rather low-level lifestyle. No, I don’t think Justin has a penny to his name. I’d like to do something more direct to him, but I’ll have to leave that for the courts.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “Let Phil go after him. Lydia has always been terrified of Phil, especially the way he makes you think he’ll torture you if you don’t tell him the truth.”
Dad winked. “As it happens, I thought of that before I left him in charge of Lydia in Milwaukee.”
“Dad!” I slugged him, but even Jane laughed.
“A little trepidation might do her some good. Phil does have an ability to inspire fear.”
Grinning, we all strode into the house. To my shock, Mom was in the living room, smoking one of Dad’s covert cigars.
“Mom?”
She coughed hard. “I don’t see what you like about these filthy things, Howard. I keep choking on them.”
“You’re not supposed to inhale, my dear.”
With a shaking hand, she set the cigar in the ashtray. “Mary said you heard from Phil, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I see Jane and Liz found you.”
“Yes, they led me back home. I was trying to run away.”
Mom fluttered a hand. “Phil is fixing it, isn’t he? How soon will he bring her home?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, my dear. Lizzie? Jane? Could you leave us alone, please?”
We spied Mary listening at the foot of the stairs, and Dad shooed her away, too. So all three of us went a few steps higher and listened together.
Dad started talking in a low voice that I couldn’t quite catch. I caught Mom’s reaction, though.
“What? Well, well. Interesting. I didn’t know Montana offered such an elite school. But it makes sense. The rich and famous want to shelter their children from publicity, and where better than Montana?” Mom gasped. “Wait! She needs new clothes. She’ll want to fit in with that elite crowd.”
Jane gave me a horrified look. No wonder Dad hadn’t wanted us to listen. He must’ve told Mom a whopper.
The low murmur of Dad’s voice was quickly cut off by Mom.
“What? How will she get her clothes? This isn’t right, Howard, no matter how fancy that school is.”
Another low murmur.
“Hmmm. I suppose you’re right. She’d want to see what the other girls are wearing. I’ll ask Phil to take her shopping for a few things—oh, I know he’ll hate it, but he’ll do it anyway. I should’ve gone to Milwaukee myself.”
Jane and I looked at each other, stood up, and returned to the living room. Dad hardly looked embarrassed at all, but his lips were twitching. Mom rubbed her hands together, then reached for a notepad to start a shopping list.
I love Dad, but I realized right then that I would never marry a guy who’d lie to me rather than let me get upset. Yeah, Mom would’v
e gone ballistic, but she still deserves the truth about her own daughter. I sliced a glance at Dad, who wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Mom? I’m not sure Phil should take Lydia on a shopping spree. He doesn’t have that kind of time, and God knows what Lydia would want him to buy.”
Mom pursed her lips. “Hmmm. You might be right, Liz. I can tell from People magazine the sorts of things the children of the rich and famous tend to wear.”
Jane shot me an alarmed look, then went over and sat by Mom. “Tell you what. Liz and I know even better what sorts of things kids are wearing.”
“Rich kids, Jane. Don’t forget that. I don’t want Lydia to be embarrassed in front of her new friends.”
Embarrassed? She had no idea.
Jane nodded. “We can overnight it to Phil in Milwaukee, unless he and Lydia have already left for, er, boarding school.”
“Why doesn’t he just put her on a plane?”
I looked at Dad, who started whistling to himself.
I groaned inwardly. “He probably figured Lydia would want someone to take her there. You know. First day of school and all. You asked Phil to do it, huh, Dad?”
“He’s good to do it, Lizzie.”
He shot me a look somewhere between grateful and irritated. We both knew he’d already dug a hole halfway to China. I grinned, guessing how much trouble he’d be in the moment Lydia made her first phone call to Mom from prison school.
Mom nodded. “Yes, of course that’s right. I suppose I could fly out there myself and join them.”
I held up a hand. “FedEx is cheaper. Besides, after Phil goes to all that trouble, I’d hate to make him think he wasn’t good enough to take Lydia to her new, uh, school.”
“Excellent point, Lizzie.” Dad started to move toward the front hall, probably eager to send a response to Phil before it got so deep in the living room that he got buried in it.
I smiled innocently at him. “Did Phil happen to mention whether there’s a school uniform? I’ve heard that stripes are all the rage.”
Mom gasped. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”
Dad shook his head. “I don’t believe there is. Just pick out some...comfortable clothes.”
“Comfortable!” Mom’s hands flew in the air. “Just like a man. No, girls. Make sure Lydia is the height of fashion.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I just know she’ll stand out.”
Chapter 21
“But there are two things that I want very much to know—one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to repay him.”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Seven
Mom’s newfound joy made her eager to rejoin us—and she celebrated by making dinner. While we battled rock-hard pork chops, Mom acted as if life couldn’t be better. As if Lydia hadn’t spent time in jail on prostitution charges and didn’t now reign as the queen of the Internet porn sites.
I glanced toward the far end of the table, where Dad had a benign smile on his face. How could he lie to Mom like that? Won’t she freak when she finds out the truth?
But that day wasn’t today. Maybe that was Dad’s point.
Mom stabbed her fork in Jane’s direction. “I’ve been thinking we could shop on the Internet. We’d have the pick of all the best stores in New York and L.A. Wouldn’t it make more sense than trying to find the right clothes in Woodbury?”
Jane nearly choked to death.
Dad thumped her on the back. “Now, Connie. Jane and Lizzie know what they’re doing. We have several years’ worth of credit card bills to prove it.” He shook his head. “Besides, I don’t think Lydia needs much. She’ll be with other girls, most of whom will likely be wearing jeans.”
Jane nodded almost violently. “I’m sure he’s right, Mom. I think Lydia will want jeans.”
“Jeans? Is everyone crazy?” Mom looked wildly at us.
Dad cleared his throat. “Considering how Lydia has spent the summer, I refuse to spend much money on her. She’ll do just fine with the clothes she already has, although I don’t object to new underwear and perhaps a few pairs of socks.”
“Howard!”
With that, he got up and left the table. Moments later, we heard the front door slam.
Mom ranted in his absence. When the buzzing got too loud, I left the table and trudged upstairs to be alone. To think.
Odd. Somehow the whole Lydia mess had been fixed just like that. Yeah, nude pictures of her filled the Internet, but most people wouldn’t see them. I groaned, feeling stupid about blabbing to Alex. If I’d just waited a few days, Lydia would be off at “boarding school” and Alex none the wiser.
Not that he’d spread the news. It was more than enough that he knew. He’d never want to go out with me now.
Thank God he lives in Connecticut. I think.
Early Friday morning, we gathered around the breakfast table, our plates of mushy scrambled eggs hardly touched. As Mom skimmed through a stack of papers from her briefcase, Dad fought me for the sports section, Jane swatted Cat for the comics, and Mary intoned the front page of the business section in a way that reminded me of a Gregorian chant.
The front door slammed open.
I leaped up first, wondering who left it unlocked. Lydia waltzed in, suitcase in hand.
“Hey, Liz. Could you pay my cab driver?” She waved jauntily to the scruffy guy standing at the door. She’d probably made out with him on the trip here. “I’m fresh out.”
Fresh out of jail. “Lydia, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in Montana. Like, yesterday.”
She dropped her suitcase with a loud thunk. “I said, could you pay him? I owe him money.”
“But I don’t. Go break into your piggy bank.”
“Liz!” Mom came running through the living room, snatching her purse from a chair before engulfing Lydia in a fierce hug. “You’re here! What a wonderful surprise. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll go pay the cabdriver. How much is it?”
Lydia waved a hand in the air. “Oh, a few hundred, no more than five hundred, tops.”
“Hundred? Lydia! What happened? I don’t have that kind of money in my purse.”
Dad ambled toward us, but he didn’t reach for his wallet.
“Hey, Dad.” Lydia didn’t look the least bit repentant for any of her sins, including the one awaiting payment at the front door. “I didn’t have money for a bus, so I grabbed a cab from Milwaukee. I said you’d pay when we got here.”
“I have no intention of paying for your cab, young lady. Phil said he put you on a plane to Montana.”
Mom’s face was beet red as she rummaged wildly in her purse, finally emerging triumphant with a checkbook. “Don’t worry, Lydia. I’ll write a check.”
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Dad snatched the checkbook out of Mom’s hand. “Lydia, you’ll be paying for this yourself. Not from your mother’s checkbook and not with, say, a credit card you’ve stolen from Lizzie or anyone else.”
“Dad!” “Howard!”
“And that’s final.”
He jabbed the checkbook in the air, making his point, as the cab driver cleared his throat. Mom snatched the checkbook back out of Dad’s hand and ran outside.
“Damn it, Connie. Stop!” But before Dad could catch Mom, she quickly scribbled out a check and handed it to the driver, who sprinted to his cab and soon peeled out from the curb.
After staring at the disappearing taxi’s black exhaust for a moment, we all trooped back inside. The instant the door slammed shut, Dad grabbed Mom’s checkbook and shredded the checks. When Mom shrieked, Lydia laughed. “Good joke, Dad. Mom, you can just get new checks from your bank.”
With everyone clustered around her, Lydia bobbed with self-importance. I glanced at her waist. The tight abs she’d worked so hard to acquire were gone, and the muffin top had returned. I pushed aside the awful thought that she might have a more lasting reminder of her days and weeks with Justin.
She whirled i
n place, as if looking for the lost treasure of Timbuktu. “Has anyone heard from Justin? Phil wouldn’t let me talk to him, but Justin promised to find me.”
Dad shook his head. “How? When?”
She fluttered a hand. “I saw him for a few minutes before Phil acted like a big jerk and read me a lecture. Right. Like I’m supposed to listen to him or the stupid old judge. But Justin doesn’t know about my new school. I have to call him. He’ll think I’m here and come looking for me.”
Dad shook his head. “We have a restraining order against him. If he comes within a block of you, here or in Montana, he’ll have a one-way ticket back to jail.”
“Dad!” “Howard!”
Dad just rolled his eyes and, returning to the living room, plunked down in his recliner and lit up a stogie.
Lydia glanced around at the rest of us, looking smug. So like herself. “The kids at school are gonna be, like, so jealous when they hear about my summer, and now I’m going to this cool boarding school. I had to tell all the girls about it. They think they’re cool, but I’m still the coolest.”
I couldn’t take another moment of Lydia without puking, so I returned to the kitchen table, where my scrambled eggs had congealed into a disgusting yellow heap.
Lydia dropped into a chair next to me. “You must be totally jealous, Liz. You were hot on Justin, and I got him.”
I rolled my eyes. “I tend to go after guys who stay out of jail.”
“You’d probably like Alex Darcy, then. He drilled me a lecture me, too. The guy has a pole up his ass.”
Alex? “What?”
Lydia put a hand over her mouth. “Shit. I promised not to mention Alex, but, man, what a pompous jerk.” She shrugged at Mom, who looked mildly horrified.
My mind raced, wondering how Alex had gotten involved. And why? Alex thought Lydia was a twit at best and a prostitute at worst. So why would he do anything for her?
My stomach churned, but I smiled sweetly at Lydia. “I just hope you don’t find Montana too boring. No Justin, and maybe no guys at all.”
“No guys? As if!”
“Didn’t anyone mention that you’re going to an all-girls’ school?” I tried to look sympathetic. Not. “Bummer.”