“Will do. You have a great time, now, okay?”
“I will. Thanks for calling. I love you guys.”
“We love you, too. ‘Bye, honey.”
The click on the other end signaled the phone call was over, but the warmth of her dad’s voice remained. Sierra had awesome parents, and she knew it.
“Was that Alex?” Christy asked, shaking off her jet lag as she sat up and stretched.
“No, it was my dad. Can you believe that? Here I’m thinking how wonderful it would be to sneak out to see Alex, and my dad calls and asks me to promise I’ll only spend time with Alex if we’re with you or Marti.”
“Sounds like something my dad would say,” Christy observed.
“And would you do what he said?”
“Probably.” Christy stretched again and yawned. “I sneaked out once on a trip with my aunt and uncle to Palm Springs.”
“You?” Sierra sounded shocked.
“Yes, some of my friends and me. It was so dumb. Now when I think about it, I can’t believe I let them talk me into it.”
“Was it to see a guy?”
“No,” Christy said, getting up and going over to the window to look out at the view. “We sneaked out to go to a store. It turned into a huge mess. We ended up at the police station, and everyone was mad at me for a long time. Definitely not worth the risk.”
Sierra believed Christy when she said it was a bad idea. Sierra knew that her dad made the chaperone rule only because he loved her. Still, she couldn’t deny that if Alex called and wanted to see her tonight, she would still be tempted to go.
But Alex didn’t call. Marti woke up shortly after Christy did and briskly proclaimed her headache had gone away. Marti insisted the three of them go downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner even though it was after eight o’clock.
They were all hungrier than they thought, and the Wiener schnitzel and potatoes tasted wonderful. With their spirits renewed, they decided to take a stroll and windowshop in what their waiter had called the alt stadt, or old town, of Basel.
A cool breeze skittered off the Rhine River and kept them company as the three women walked and talked. They got along better than they had at any other time on their trip.
Sierra was hopeful that, if Marti stayed in this good mood, she might agree to let Sierra spend more time with Alex. Maybe they could go hiking as he had suggested. Or at least for a picnic or bike ride.
Ever since Sierra had arrived in Europe, Alex had been a part of everything she had done. It would be miserable to try to see the sights without him.
“Would you like to visit the school again tomorrow, Christy?” Marti asked as they looked in one of the shop windows. “Are there any unanswered questions you would like to discuss with Mr. Pratt?”
“No, I think I have a pretty good idea of what it’s all about. I just need to decide if I’m going to attend or not before we leave.”
“Yes, you do,” Marti agreed.
“I’d like to do some more sightseeing,” Christy said. Then she added smoothly, “A hike with Alex would be especially fun.”
To Sierra’s surprise, Marti didn’t immediately rebuff Christy. They were nearly back at the hotel.
“Marti, I don’t know if this helps you decide,” Sierra said, “but when my dad called tonight, I told him about Alex. Dad said he hoped we would spend more time together, have fun, and make some memories.”
“Your father said that?” Marti asked. “You’re not making this up, are you?”
“No, that’s what he said. He also said that whatever I did with Alex had to be with Christy or with you.”
“That’s what he told you?”
“Yes,” Sierra said firmly. She wasn’t used to having her word questioned.
“Then I must say I applaud you for telling me. Honesty is always the best policy.”
“Yes, I guess it is,” Sierra said, more to herself than to Marti.
Marti stopped walking and turned to face Sierra and Christy with one of the nicest expressions she had worn on the trip. It was obvious she was feeling better. “I must say I admire the two of you for the way you abide by your parents’ directions. You are both quite different from how I was at your age.”
“I hear you were pretty wild,” Sierra said, seizing her opportunity to delve in. Christy pinched her. “I mean, I can just imagine you must have been rowdy if you were so different from us,” Sierra said quickly, trying to cover her blunder. “Christy and I are actually pretty boring people when it comes down to it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Christy teased.
Marti resumed walking in step with Christy and Sierra. A moment later, she asked, “Christy, what has your mother said about me?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you can tell me. What has Margaret been saying?”
“All she ever said was that you two were pretty opposite, and I know my mom was super obedient and had a boring social life.”
“My social life was never boring, that’s for sure.”
“What was it like?” Sierra said, barging into the conversation. She thought this might be the right time for her to start tearing down the walls that Marti had built.
“That’s quite a bold question,” Marti said. She sounded surprised but not offended.
“Did you have lots of boyfriends?” Sierra asked. “I picture you with the captain of the football team or maybe the star basketball player. You would have made a cute couple—a tall guy and you, a sweet, petite girl.”
Marti laughed. “He was actually a hockey player. And he wasn’t all that tall. Just muscular and, oh, so aggressive! I believed he could stop the world from rotating if I only asked. Nelson was definitely a self-made guy. What Nelson wanted, Nelson got.”
“That was his first name?” Sierra asked. “Nelson?”
Marti suddenly looked surprised, as if she hadn’t realized what she had said. “You girls don’t need to hear this. Forget I brought it up. That was all very long ago. What we should be doing is discussing our plans for tomorrow. Why don’t we plan on breakfast at eight? We’ll meet downstairs as we did this morning, only please try to be on time tomorrow. We can take it from there. I think some shopping is in order, don’t you?”
Sierra wasn’t ready to think about shopping. She had uncovered a corner of Marti’s armor, and the name tattooed there was “Nelson.”
ten
“NELSON,” SIERRA REPEATED to Christy once they were back in their room. “Have you ever met anyone named Nelson?”
“No.”
“I wonder what happened with him. She almost told us—did you notice that?” Sierra asked.
Christy nodded. “She was in a good mood, too. That was nice.”
“Let’s hope her good mood sticks around for a while.”
The next morning Marti was still in a good mood when they met downstairs for breakfast. Sierra might have tried to make another crack in Marti’s armor, except this time Sierra was the one in a foul mood.
She hadn’t slept well. The nap had thrown her off, and so she wasn’t able to fall asleep right away like Christy had. Instead, Sierra lay in the quiet room thinking and praying, half awake and half asleep for hours.
It didn’t help that Alex hadn’t called. Why do guys do that? Sierra fumed to herself. They say they’ll call, they act sweet and even touch your cheek like they mean to keep their promise, and then you never hear from them. Here I was thinking of what it would be like to sneak out, and then he doesn’t even call!
The more she thought about her previous urge to sneak out, the worse she felt. She wouldn’t even dream of doing something like that at home. Why had she allowed herself to think it would be okay here? All she could come up with was, at home, she respected her parents and their authority over her. She didn’t feel exactly the same about Marti.
“We can start with shops down the street where we went for our walk last night,” Marti suggested after her breakfast. “I especially wanted to go back and buy tha
t scarf I saw about two blocks down. Was there anything in particular you girls saw that you wanted?”
“Nope,” Christy said. She had awakened in a sunny mood. When Sierra emerged from the shower, Christy had been seated at the desk, reading her Bible, writing in her journal, and humming. Sierra threw a pillow at her, but that didn’t stop her happy little tune.
They entered the first shop, and Sierra watched Marti turn into a different person. She greeted the friendly sales-clerks and began to make flattering comments about their merchandise. The clerks moved in closer and responded to her in their professional English. Marti was in control.
“Why do you think Alex didn’t call?” Sierra asked Christy.
They hung back in the front corner of the store next to a display of greeting cards.
“He probably had a good reason.”
“Yeah, like, he’s a guy and all guys are alike. They come across all sweet and interested, and then someone more interesting catches their attention and suddenly you’re nothing to them.”
Christy laughed softly.
“I wish you wouldn’t mock me when I’m sulking.” Sierra crossed her arms and gave Christy an exaggerated pout.
“It’s funny,” Christy said. “Not what you’re feeling, but what you’re saying sounds exactly like what I used to say about Todd a few years ago.”
“Great. Now you’re telling me that even Dream Boy Todd used to be an insensitive jerk. Is there no hope?”
“Oh, I could tell you stories! There’s enough to fill a book.” Christy leaned closer. “Todd has still been known to have occasional setbacks. Like with this trip. This is a big decision for me, and I think it involves Todd, too. But he keeps acting like it doesn’t matter. Whatever I want to do will be fine with him. Makes me so mad when I think about it.”
“I’m sure he’s only trying to be nice and give you freedom to make your own decision.”
“Are you defending him?” Christy said, now crossing her arms as well.
“Somebody should,” Sierra remarked.
She and Christy eyed each other.
At that moment, Sierra realized that if she looked half as silly as Christy did, both standing there in their mutual pout positions, the two of them must be a hilarious sight. She started to laugh.
“What?” Christy said.
“Guys,” Sierra said with a glimmer in her eyes. “Who needs ’em?”
“That’s right,” Christy agreed. “Who needs them? We’re in Switzerland, for goodness’ sake! We need to start having our own fun and forget about Todd and Alex.”
“I’m with you,” Sierra said. “We have the whole day ahead of us without a single guy on the schedule. What do you want to do?”
“I’m sure Marti wants to shop some more, but then she always wants to shop.” Christy looked over at her aunt. “If you see anything, be sure to speak up. She’ll buy it for you. I think her hobby is buying things for people.”
“You mean her hobbit,” Sierra said.
“Her what?”
“That’s what Alex said instead of ‘hobby.’ ”
“Alex?” Christy challenged. “I thought we were done with those undependable guys. It’s just us women today.”
“You’re right,” Sierra said, holding up her arm as if she were the Statue of Liberty. “Onward to freedom and liberty and shaking off our emotional chains.”
As she spoke the last two words, her fist hit a revolving rack of note cards and tipped the rack off balance. It teetered dangerously.
“Look out!” Christy yelled to one of the customers who was heading for the door and about to be clobbered by the card rack.
Sierra’s quick reflexes enabled her to catch the edge of the rack, and she jerked it back toward herself. The rack didn’t hit the startled customer, but a dozen packets of note cards ejected in the sudden yank and pummeled the unsuspecting woman like snowballs. The rack, responding to Sierra’s quick pull, toppled in the other direction. It landed on the greeting cards, crumpling dozens of them as it continued its crash course to the floor, where it pulled out the electric cord along the wall, causing the overhead lights and fans to turn off.
Everything suddenly went silent. Everyone in the store turned to stare at Sierra and Christy. A salesclerk marched over and plugged the lights and fan back in.
“Quick!” Sierra said under her breath. “How do you say ‘Excuse me’ in German?”
“Sorry,” Christy blurted out. “Pardon us. Merci. Por favor.”
“That’s not German!” Sierra hissed through her clenched smile.
“It was the best I could do,” Christy said.
She helped Sierra right the toppled rack and began to scoop up the packages of note cards.
“Are you all right?” Sierra asked the still startled customer.
The woman answered in French and then in German. When Sierra understood neither, the shopper swatted her hand in the air and exited the shop.
“What happened?” Marti demanded, flying to their corner of the store.
“It was an accident,” Christy said, calmly placing the note cards back in the rack. “Oh, these are cute. Did you see these with the wildflowers, Sierra?”
“Let’s get some,” Sierra suggested, placing the last of the note cards onto the rack.
“Couldn’t you have decided they were cute without causing the entire display to fall apart?” Marti snapped. “They’re ruined, so we’ll have to buy all of them.”
“They’re not ruined,” Sierra said. “They’re packaged in these sturdy plastic boxes. But the cards are a different story.” She turned to look behind her. At least two dozen greeting cards were mangled.
Marti marched over and began to snap up the bent cards. She even took ones that were not bent but were in the vicinity of the damaged ones.
“You two wait outside and try not to destroy anything else, will you?” Marti whooshed past them and went to pay for the cards. Sierra and Christy silently left the small store and walked over to a streetlight to wait for Marti. A basket of bright yellow marigolds and tiny blue flowers hung over their heads.
“Don’t do any more liberated-woman imitations, Sierra, or you’ll bring that flower basket down on your head,” Christy warned with a laugh.
“Is your aunt so annoyed that she’ll never want to see me again?”
“She’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident. Besides, we got a year’s supply of German greeting cards out of the deal. That might not have happened if the rack hadn’t come after you.”
They both started to laugh.
“I want the cards,” Sierra said. “I think we should send them to all our friends and let them guess what the German greeting says.”
“Let’s do it!” Christy agreed. “They probably say, ‘Sorry to hear about your kidney stones,’ or “Congratulations on your retirement.’ ”
“Probably!” Sierra agreed. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked across the street at a small wooden booth that was painted white and had green shutters. It looked like a playhouse complete with window boxes brimming with masses of orange, yellows, and blue flowers. “What is that little place? I didn’t see it last night when we walked along here.”
“It looks like an information booth. They probably have free maps. Should we get one?”
“Sure,” Sierra said, leading the way across the cobblestone street.
An older man smoking a thin-stemmed pipe and wearing lederhosen and a green felt hat greeted them.
“Guten tag,” he said with a nod.
“Do you speak English?” Christy asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“Is this an information booth?” she asked.
He silently raised his gray eyes to the large information sign above his head.
“We’d like a map.” Sierra said, tucking her head in next to Christy’s. “Do you have one that shows all the interesting places to go in Basel?”
“Yes.” He handed them a brightly colored m
ap with directions in four languages. “What would you like to see?” he asked.
“I’d like to go on a picnic in the Alps,” Sierra said suddenly. “Like in The Sound of Music.”
“That was in Austria,” Christy said.
“I know, but Austria and Switzerland share the same mountains, don’t they? I think a picnic would be fun. We could take a bus, couldn’t we? The taxis are so expensive.”
“Yes, you can take a bus or you can take a train. Which mountain range would you like to see?”
Sierra shrugged. “Any of them. I like all mountains. Isn’t the Matterhorn in Switzerland?”
“Yes, you could take a trip to Zermatt,” the man said, opening a map of Switzerland all the way.
“I didn’t mean an overnight trip. Just a day trip. For today. I thought we could go on a picnic today,” Sierra said.
The man closed the map. “Then perhaps you would allow me to make another suggestion.”
He opened a smaller map and, with a red pen, marked the bus line they should take. He pointed across the street to a yellow building where they would stand to catch the bus. When Christy and Sierra turned to see where he was pointing, they both saw Marti at the same time. She was pacing back and forth in front of the store with a frenzied look on her face.
“This is great. Thank you,” Christy said, reaching for the map and hurrying across the street.
“Danke,” Sierra called over her shoulder. She knew Marti would be hopping mad that they hadn’t told her where they were going. Their plan had been innocent—a quick detour before Marti got out of the store.
There she stood, her fist punching into her waist and her toe tapping. In her hand, she held a bag filled with mangled German greeting cards.
eleven
“I’M NOT UPSET,” Marti said. With purposeful steps, she led Christy and Sierra down the street toward the scarf shop. “You explained the situation to me, and like I said, next time just tell me where you’re going. You can imagine how I felt when I stepped out of the shop, having covered the expense of your catastrophe, only to discover you were nowhere to be found. How would you feel? I was terrified. I’m responsible for the two of you, and if anything ever happened, why, I’d never recover from it.”
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