by Sandra Byrd
Chapter 52
Tuesday afternoon I turned in my copy to Hazelle. “Let’s read it together in my office,” she said. Her voice was professional but not unfriendly, and I had the feeling that we’d both been through a lot. Maybe we could someday find our way back to friendship.
She rolled her eyes when she read my lead-in.
“‘Due to unforeseen circumstances, this paper is unable to have a horoscope column this week. In its place, we’d like to present a heroscope—someone who is working hard to make Wexburg a better place for all of us.’
“Oh, Savvy,” she said, but she didn’t use her red pencil to mark it out. She did make a few little tweaks throughout, making sure it was clear that the entire school was invited to the launch on Saturday, whether or not they planned to buy jeans.
“Will they be able to order jeans at the launch? Will there be a place to be measured?”
I nodded. “Ashley’s getting that all set up, and Becky’s going to be there, along with some of her designer friends, to measure a few people.”
“Let’s word it this way, then,” Hazelle said, drawing a few lines to rearrange a paragraph.
She didn’t touch the part promising fun under twinkling lights and butler service. “I guess I should be there,” she said, trying, I knew, to look reluctant. “As the editor, and all.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll have Ashley’s snaps to you first thing in the morning. Here’s the one of the little girl I mentioned in the article.” I pushed Emma’s photo toward her.
Thursday morning I got in even earlier than usual. I wasn’t going to wait to deliver the paper to read this article. And I wanted to set aside fifteen of the best copies for myself and my family, just in case I never wrote another article with a byline.
Tears sprang when I saw the copy. Hazelle had put it on the front page.
Chapter 53
It was Friday night, and everything was set. The samples were all at Be@titude, ready to be shuttled over to The Beeches the next day. Ashley’s staff had turned several of the rooms on the lower floor into swanky try-on rooms, and she’d told me that their cook had prepared lots of snacks for a huge help-yourself buffet table.
I had my outfit—a sample pair of the InJeanious jeans that I was hoping to buy. If I could score a summer job. I had my date—though we were meeting there, and I knew I’d be busy with details. I had my bestie. I was set.
I sat in my room that night praying all would go well. And then I broke out my guitar to soothe myself. I thumbed through some music and finally settled on Taylor Swift’s “Fifteen.” Because fifteen was slipping away from me. I had high hopes for the night—and the year ahead.
Chapter 54
When Ashley had set the party time for later in the evening, I hadn’t really understood why she’d wanted to do that. Would people be kind of tired? Did the Gorm Strausses want to save on food expenses? That hardly seemed likely. But when Mom and I pulled up to The Beeches, I knew right away why she’d set it for later.
The driveway was lit on each side from end to end—it must have been half a mile or more through the amazing beech trees, which stood like more of their staff lining the drive. When the house came into view, it, too, was ablaze from every window. But most beautiful of all were the trees—in the front garden and on the back property—which twinkled with rice lights, like millions of fireflies had settled contentedly on each branch.
“Wow,” I said, in spite of my desire to remain cool.
“Wow,” Mom said. I had to admit, she looked pretty spiffy herself. Penny’s mum had called her to tell her that the parents were welcome in the west wing of the estate to have some appetizers and to talk. Penny told me the real reasons why they were invited, though:
1. We couldn’t drive ourselves yet.
2. We needed their cheque books.
We’d arrived earlier than most so I could help Becky with last-minute prep. Mom headed off with the other parents, and as she did, I heard Penny’s mum talking excitedly about the garden club and the tours they were planning for the summer. Judging by the positive chatter, she had no concerns at all that my mom would be voted in. I felt happy for my mother.
“Hullo, Savvy,” Ashley said. Well, Becky had done exactly what we’d decided ahead of time, although I had to admit to a slight twinge of envy. She’d given Ashley the very best jean style and had also thrown in a top and a set of flats from one of her designer friends.
“You look stunning,” I said. And I meant it. It was good for business. Everyone would want to be dressed like Ashley.
“The outfit is rather smart, isn’t it?” she agreed. “I’ve got to get back to the dining room, where we’ve set up an order table for those wanting to place orders tonight. Becky is just around there, putting things up in the sitting room, the music room, and the library.”
Within the hour Penny arrived, and she and I helped Becky and her friends finish the setup. In no time at all, the house and the grounds were packed with people. Guys, girls, parents with cash—everyone imaginable.
I had just helped one girl sort through some styles for a personalized try-on when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, there.”
I turned around. It was Tommy. “Hey,” I said, unable to stop the happiness from spreading up to my face and blossoming into a big smile. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
He rolled his eyes. “My grandparents were going to drive me, and then my dad got home in time, but my gran didn’t want to miss the chance to eat free at The Beeches, so now the whole clan is here. Thankfully my sister had a date or they’d have packed her along too.” He glanced around the room. “By the look of things, it’s going brilliantly!”
I grinned. “It seems that way, but I’m not willing to declare victory till we count the orders at the end of the night—and till I hear the word victory from Hazelle’s lips.”
“Is she here yet?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her, but in a crowd this big . . .” I shrugged.
“Savvy!” Becky called out to me. “I could use a hand if you’ve got a spare one.”
“I’ll meet you outside after things die down,” Tommy said. “Text me when you’ve got a minute. I, uh, want to talk.”
“Okay,” I said, jumpy as those firefly lights. I hoped I knew what he was going to say.
He started toward the buffet, where his football friends were. Then he turned back to me once more. At first I was embarrassed that I was still looking at him. And then he winked.
He winked! My wink! The long-awaited wink.
I practically floated to Becky and helped her organize the orders she was taking. Just as I finished alphabetizing them, I felt a tap and spun around. It was Hazelle, and she had a serious expression on her face. “Savvy. I need to talk with you. Is there somewhere kind of private?”
Chapter 55
What could Hazelle have to tell me in private other than something bad—and bad about the newspaper? She was probably going to tell me that Natalie was back on the staff, and because she had seniority, she was going to have to take the staff writer position. Or maybe someone else found out that I was the Asking for Trouble columnist and it was going to be all over campus next week. Or something worse! The rumor would run through the crowd at the launch and steal the thunder from InJeanious.
“Savvy!” Hazelle said sharply. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
I popped out of my bubble. “Oh, sure, right. Here’s the storage area for the sample jeans. It’s pretty private.” We walked to the closet, and I closed the door behind us. “What’s up?” I braced myself for her answer.
“Brian’s here,” she said.
“Okay . . .” I was waiting for the rest.
“He’s here. And so is everyone else, but he’s here. And, well, you always wanted to make me over. Now’s your chance.”
I exercised extreme control over my forty-three facial muscles. “Sure . . . I mean, if that’s what y
ou want.”
“I do,” she said. I’d already taken care of everything Becky had asked me to do, so we sorted through the stack of jeans till we found something that was pretty close to an ideal fit. And then I ran and got one of the designer shirts that Ashley had rejected before settling on her perfect look. I hustled back to the closet, threw it at Hazelle, and closed the door on her. A few minutes later she came out. “Well?”
“Fabulous,” I pronounced. “Let me tweak your makeup just a little bit and twist your hair to the side.” What I really wanted was a straightening iron, but there wasn’t one here. “Okay, kid, go get ’em,” I said.
I stood back and watched as she approached the buffet room. Heads turned and conversation quieted as she walked by. I felt just like a mother hen. I had my moment, then went back to help Becky and the designers. Ashley did her bit by floating through the rooms and the gardens, looking amazing.
And then there was Hazelle. Her makeover was intended to stun Brian, but it had a much bigger effect. I even heard a few people say, “If those jeans can make Hazelle look that good, sign me up!”
A few hours later, the music died down some, and about half the people melted away. Becky came up and pulled me aside. “Savvy, guess what?”
“What?”
“Look at this number.”
Chapter 56
I couldn’t believe the bottom line. “No way. Is that the whole order?”
She shook her head. “It’s not even the total. There are still people in line. And that’s only orders from tonight. We’ve got a six-month license, so when they love the jeans and want another pair, they’ll have to come back to Be@titude.”
“Is that enough money for the clothing program for single mothers?”
“More than enough,” Becky said as she squeezed my arm. “But I’ll be really busy. I might need some help at the shop this summer. Know anyone who’d like a job in fashion?”
I grinned. “I’m sure I can come up with someone.”
“You might not need the money,” she said, “after your cut.”
My mouth dropped open. “My cut?”
“Sure,” she said. “You’ll get a small commission on the orders. I’d guess about—” she did a couple of calculations and wrote a number on a piece of paper—“this much.”
“Really?”
“Really. Just don’t blow it all on clothes,” she teased.
I laughed. A picture of Emma crawling under the rounders at the shop passed through my mind.
“Some of it on clothes. And some on a playhouse.”
Now it was her turn to be shocked. “A playhouse?”
“I’ll tell you later.” I waved and headed out of the room to text Tommy.
I have some time—where should I meet you?
Back garden, left corner. By the roses.
I glanced in the mirror. A little disheveled, but it would have to do for now. On the way out the door, I saw Hazelle and gave her a thumbs-up. I’d hoped to walk by, but she came up to talk with me. I didn’t want my anxiety to show, but apparently it did.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You looked nervous when I saw you before, and you look nervous now.”
“Well, to be honest, when I saw you the first time, I was a little worried you were going to tell me bad news about the paper,” I admitted.
“Bad news?” she asked. “There were hundreds of people here. Plus, I’ve already received like eight letters to the editor, and that was before the event. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she said. “And after tonight . . . well, I’m wondering if maybe we might need to run a regular feature on fashion.”
“Great idea,” I said. “I have some suggestions. . . .”
She held up her hand. “I just said I was wondering, Savvy, not committing. Don’t run ahead of me.”
I laughed. It was good to know that, great jeans or not, Hazelle was still Hazelle. “What did Brian think?”
“He said I looked great and tried to start a conversation with me twice. But you know, I told him it’s over.” She looked happy and confident. I leaned over and hugged her.
Talking about Brian reminded me . . . I had an appointment. “I gotta run,” I said. “Talk to you later.”
I made my way through the thinning crowd toward the back of the garden, where the prize-winning Gorm Strauss rose garden was aglow with the twinkling lights. I saw Tommy sitting on a bench, and I came over and sat next to him. Close, but not too close.
He smiled when he saw me. “Big success, eh?”
I nodded. “I am so happy for Becky. I am so thankful to God.”
“So, Savvy—” he took my hand in his, and I didn’t pull it away—“I was wondering. Do your parents mind if you go out with people?”
“No.” I was glad I’d already talked it over with Mom.
The music drifted out from the house, and there were some crickets trying their best to keep time in the distance. “Would you go out with me, then?” he asked.
“Yes, I will.”
He leaned just a little bit toward me.
I instantly recognized the pose, of course. Dude decoder!
“Do you mind if I kiss you?” he asked.
“No,” I said. I closed my eyes, and he leaned over and lightly brushed his lips against mine. That was it. I didn’t expect it to happen often, and I knew that till my wedding day, there’d be nothing more. But I was not going to be “sweet sixteen and never been kissed.”
As I opened my eyes, I saw him bending over. He plucked a rose from one of the bushes and handed it to me. “Don’t tell Ashley’s mum,” he said.
I laughed. As I did, I heard a man behind me clearing his throat.
Chapter 57
I turned around. “Father Christmas!” How long had he been there, and what had he seen?
“Grandpa!” Tommy said.
I turned and looked at Tommy. “Grandpa?”
“Yeah, that’s my grandpa,” he said. “You know each other?”
“Uh, kind of,” I said. “I interviewed him for the paper.” I hoped I hadn’t spilled his secret.
Father Christmas seemed to know what I was thinking. “Don’t worry; he knows about me,” he said. “A bit hard to keep that kind of secret from your own family.”
Well, that would explain how Tommy’s gran knew about my writing for the paper. Father Christmas—also known as Tom, the postmaster—was the one who had brought a pen to me on Christmas Day. “Oh . . . I see.” I was finally connecting the dots. “Your name is Tom,” I said to him. “Aunt Maude called you Tom.”
His eyes twinkled, just like Father Christmas’s should. “Aunt Maude, eh? We called her Mad Maude in my day. She was quite the social butterfly.”
“Social butterfly?”
He smiled. “I dated her a bit meself before she ran off and got married to a man from up north. Then I met Tommy’s gran, and the rest is history.” Another mystery solved. Aunt Maude recognized Tommy because, well, he did look like his grandfather. Much cuter, though. Of course.
“So how are you doing on those Christmas wishes?” he asked.
“What were those?” Tommy asked me.
Oh no. I was going to have to be brutally honest because Father Christmas would surely remember everything I’d said. I took a deep breath. “I asked for a really good friend; a guy who likes me for myself; a place, or two, to do good work; and . . . a Wexburg Academy Times pen.”
“And how are you doing on lining those up?” Father Christmas asked.
I grinned but refused to look at Tommy. “I, uh . . . They all seem to be lining up pretty well now.”
“You’re a quick study,” Father Christmas—I mean, Postmaster Tom, or, uh, Tommy’s grandfather, said. “You’ll have to set some new goals. You can tell me all about them. In December.” He turned to Tommy. “I came to find you, as it’s time to go. Are you and your young lady ready?”
His young lady! I held the rose stem
loosely in my hand. “I’m ready.”
Then we three walked back to The Beeches together, under the stars—both electric and natural—chatting and laughing like you should when you live in jolly old England.
Later that night, when I was home and nearly asleep, I thought of the perfect way to end the night. I dug out my phone and typed in a verse. Then I forwarded it to everyone I knew.
Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
Matthew 6:4 (NIV)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52