“That would be super, Grace. Actually, there are a couple of things that might work, but right now they look too old, or too citified, or something. Why don’t you both come up to my room after dinner and I’ll show you.”
True to Grace’s word, Muriel quickly called them to dinner. When they were all seated around the table, James said a blessing, then they all began chattering away like one big, happy family. It was hard for Allison to believe that they hadn’t always been like this. She looked across the table to where Andrew was seated next to Grace. She remembered what Mr. Jackson had said about Andrew’s football-playing skills. She didn’t really know a thing about football, but the fact that the vice-principal was impressed made her feel a deeper respect for Andrew. He suddenly seemed taller and older in her eyes, and she found that she was unable to think of anything to say.
“How long will you and Allison stay in Portland?” Grace asked as she passed the potatoes.
“By the time I meet with Clyde and deliver the paintings, it’ll probably be lunchtime. After that I imagine we’ll shop for hours and hours.” James grinned at Allison.
“Dad,” she said in a reprimanding tone. “My list wasn’t that long!”
He chuckled. “I thought if we had time we could have a nice dinner and maybe go to a film. I heard that Key Largo is playing.”
“Oh, I’d love to see that!” Allison said. “Did you know that I saw Lauren Bacall in Hollywood?”
“Really?” said Grace with interest. “Is she as gorgeous in person as she is on the screen?”
“Very, very classy,” Allison explained as she cut into a slice of roast.
“Wow,” said Andrew. “Who else did you see?”
Allison thought hard. “I saw Liz Taylor with a mud masque on her face in this fancy Beverly Hills salon. And I also saw Doris Day in a dress store where all the dresses were blue.”
“All the dresses were blue?” asked Heather in amazement.
Allison laughed. “Yes, it reminded me of when Dorothy went into the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz, only everything was blue.”
Before long, dinner was over and Allison and Heather were helping Muriel clear the table. Once they were finished and Muriel had hustled them away from the kitchen, Allison took Grace and Heather up to her room to examine her closet.
“I think there might be hope for a lot of these things,” Grace said as she looked over the clothes in Allison’s closet. “Maybe not this year, but just keep them and wait. The clothes you have here are so stylish that they haven’t even made their way to the wilds of Oregon yet.”
“I still have a whole trunk of things coming from Beverly Hills, and Marsha said she was going to add some things to it.”
“It’s so amazing how Marsha changed her mind, Allison,” said Heather. “Andrew told me the whole story. I think God did a miracle.”
“I agree,” said Grace. “Now, I hate to interrupt all this girl talk, but remember, Heather, tonight’s a school night, so we need to get Winston home and to bed.”
“We’ll catch up later,” Allison said as she walked them downstairs. “I have so much to tell you, Heather.”
“Have fun in Portland,” Heather called from the front step.
“Yeah, don’t buy the stores out, Allison,” Andrew warned.
“Oh, you!” Allison said in mock irritation.
“Will you be in school on Friday?” asked Heather.
“I hope so,” said Allison. “We’re coming back on Thursday, right, Dad?”
“That’s right. And we don’t want to miss Andrew’s game on Friday.”
“Great,” said Andrew, looking down at her with a big smile. “See you on Friday, then.”
That night when Allison went to bed, she could still see Andrew’s face smiling at her, saying “see you on Friday.” It had warmed her insides and made her heart beat a little faster. She only hoped he hadn’t noticed her reaction.
The next morning was foggy and gray, but it didn’t dampen Allison’s spirits as they drove along in the big green Buick. James had the radio on, and they sang along with Perry Como and Bing Crosby until they got into the Coastal Range and lost the radio frequency.
The first stop in Portland was The Blue Heron Art Gallery. The shop was small in front but got bigger as they were led toward the back. Clyde Jackson didn’t look anything like his brother at Port View High School. Clyde’s black hair was smoothed back and hung long over his turtleneck collar. He had a little black goatee that reminded Allison of some of Marsha’s strange beatnik friends in New York. But Clyde was warm and friendly and didn’t put on any pretenses. He even spoke to Allison as if she were an adult.
He gave them a complete tour of his gallery, pointing out names of artists that he thought James might be interested in knowing. Best of all, Clyde seemed genuinely pleased with James’ work. Allison felt proud, and she could see that her father was happy, too. As they had anticipated, it was nearly noon by the time they told Clyde thank you and good-bye.
“I don’t know about you, but I am feeling extremely hungry,” James said as soon as they stepped out on the street.
“Famished,” Allison agreed. “And I think we should celebrate. It sounds like Clyde thinks your work is quite good.”
They finally settled for hamburgers and milk shakes, which suited Allison just fine. Then they set off to find some school clothes.
“I’ll bet this is lots different from shopping in New York or Beverly Hills,” James said somewhat apologetically as they walked into Portland’s biggest department store.
“Yes, but already I like it much better.”
“Really? Why?”
“It’s smaller—less busy. People seem more real here.”
“You’ll have to lead the way, Allison. I’m sure you know much more about shopping than I do.”
“We’ll see about that. Until last summer, the only thing I ever wore was my school uniform or things that Lola bought for me. But I have seen Marsha shop.” Allison stepped up to the cosmetics counter and inquired where the ladies’ department was located.
“Second floor,” said the woman with a smile. “The escalator is right over there.”
“Thanks.”
Allison stepped confidently from the escalator with James right behind her. In no time she had gathered several skirts and sweaters and blouses.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” James commented with a grin as she handed him a small pile.
“I learned from the best.” Suddenly, Allison’s brow creased into a frown as she realized that she was used to seeing Marsha shop without any sort of budget. She hadn’t even stopped to consider what her father’s financial situation might be. It was a good thing she still had money of her own that Marsha had given her before her trip.
“You look troubled, Allison. What’s wrong?”
“I—uh, I don’t want you to think that you have to buy all these things for me, Dad. I have my own money—”
“Not on your life, Allison Mercury O’Brian!” James interrupted, and he lifted a hand to stop her. “This is the first time in ages that I have been able to buy something for my little girl. You’re not going to take that away from me, are you?”
Allison looked into his eyes and realized that he wasn’t joking. “No, not if you want to, Dad. I just didn’t want to assume that—”
“Well, you better assume, young lady. I’m your dad, and I want to enjoy some of the things I’ve missed out on.”
Allison smiled, but she could feel tears in her eyes. “I’ve missed them, too, Dad. Believe me, I’ve missed them.”
He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “Well, let’s be thankful that it’s all just a memory now. And let’s keep shopping. This is fun!”
“May I start a dressing room for the young lady?” asked a salesclerk with a smile.
“Certainly,” James said as he handed the stack to her.
After Allison modeled several outfits, they decided on three. First
there was the A-line glen-plaid skirt with a short-sleeved sweater in a soft shade of brown. The next was a pleated skirt of moss green tweed with a matching cardigan that her father said brought out the green in her eyes. And finally, Allison’s favorite outfit, a circle skirt in a russet, pumpkin, and gold plaid. It fit her tiny waist perfectly, then swirled out at the bottom so that if she gave a spin it shot out at the sides. It was lined in satin and felt wonderful against her bare legs. James had actually found the perfect sweater for it: a long-sleeved mock turtleneck in the rich russet shade. Allison was pretty certain it was cashmere, although she hadn’t checked the tag.
When she stepped out of the dressing room in that outfit, James whistled low and said, “I’m not sure why I’m being so helpful in getting my little girl all dolled up. The boys are going to be busting down my door before long.”
“Oh, Dad,” she said. The clerk just grinned and happily rang them up.
James did some shopping of his own while she selected socks and underthings. Then they carried the packages out to the car and headed for the shoe store down the street.
“This was such fun, Dad,” Allison said later that day. “I’ve never had this much fun shopping before. Usually I’m with people who are making me get things I don’t really want or even like, but I adore everything you’ve bought me today. And I can still hardly believe that I’ll get to go to a real high school on Friday. It’s like a wonderful dream!”
“It is for me, too, Allison. Hey, look over there at the theater marquee—Key Largo is playing tonight at six. Do you want to see it?”
“You bet!”
They piled the packages into the car, then set out to find a restaurant that James remembered from before he’d gone to New York in the early thirties.
“It’s not far,” James told her. “Shall we walk?”
“I’d love to.” Allison put on the new coat that her father had insisted she get. It was a dark brown tweed with a brown velvet collar and velvet-covered buttons. It was very long, almost to her ankles, and the lining swished when she moved.
While they walked, she thought about the clothes they’d purchased today. They were so different from the things she had borrowed from Marsha several months back. These new school clothes seemed to suit her personality. They felt like Allison clothes. She no longer needed to masquerade as a grown-up, and she no longer needed a school girl’s uniform. It felt like she was actually becoming her own person, and it felt nice.
James took them down a couple of wrong streets and through a back alley until he finally found the restaurant called Figaro’s. It was a sweet little Italian restaurant run by the same family that had owned it back before James had gone off to New York.
“It looks exactly the same,” James said as they were seated at a wobbly round table covered in red-checked cloth. A candle burned brightly in a wax-covered wine bottle, and Italian music played on a phonograph by the cash register. Every once in a while it would skip, but that only seemed to add to the charm.
“Did you come here a lot?” asked Allison after they both ordered the spaghetti with meatballs.
“Only once,” James said as if looking back over the years. “It was with Grace.”
“Oh.” Allison laid the linen napkin in her lap and studied the flickering flame of the candle.
“I’d like to bring her again sometime.”
“I’m sure she’d like that.”
“And now, Allison,” James said, shaking his head as if coming out of a dream, “I want you to tell me all about you.”
“About me?”
“Yes. I know a lot about who you are now, but I really don’t know much about your life up until now. Just bits and pieces.”
“There’s not much to tell. Eight years in a drafty old boarding school with a bunch of other poor little rich girls. Holidays either in New York with Marsha or at the estate, which was always preferable—at least until Nanny Jane passed away.”
“Nanny Jane was a good woman.”
“Yes, I still miss her. After she died it wasn’t the same going back to the estate. And besides, it never seemed like Grandmother Madison really wanted me around. You know what she’s like.”
“Only too well,” James nodded in sympathy. “It’s really quite sad if you think about it. What does that lonely old lady have, anyway?”
“Nothing but a bunch of stinking money.”
James laughed. “At least you’re learning what’s important and what’s not early on in your life.”
Allison continued on, trying to fill her father in on any major details or events that he had missed. But as she looked back, she realized her life up until last June seemed unimportant. Now the life before her looked colorful and exciting. She couldn’t wait for her first day at school and her future to begin.
Allison awoke early and looked around to see where she was, then stretched contentedly. She was back in her sweet blue-and-yellow bedroom. Home. And today would be her first day of high school. It had been fun going to Portland with Dad, but she was glad to be home. She didn’t care if she ever went on another trip. She hopped out of bed and looked over to where she’d carefully laid out her clothes last night, just in case she accidentally slept in late and had to hurry. That used to happen a lot back at boarding school, but not today. Allison pulled the window shades up to see a blanket of gray fog outside. She smiled. It looked like a perfect day for a wool sweater and skirt.
She carefully dressed, pulling the russet sweater over her head, then slipping the fall-colored plaid skirt on. She tucked the sweater into her waistband and buckled the narrow brown leather belt that was the perfect accessory to her skirts. She cuffed her socks and slid her feet into the new saddle shoes, tying neat little bows. At boarding school she had been required to wear loafers with her uniform, and while she still liked loafers, it was nice to try something new for a change. And this was quite a change to wear something other than a uniform to school. It felt a little strange to think that her own identity might actually be visible in the form of her clothing now. There had always been an anonymous security in looking just like everyone else.
She stood before the mirror and examined her reflection. It did help that she was now wearing her own clothes instead of the castoffs from Marsha. That should help her to fit in with the kids she’d observed at school the other day. She combed and styled her hair. It had grown out some and was curling past her shoulders now, and the russet sweater seemed to bring out more of the red highlights.
“Hello, in there,” called Muriel’s voice. “Are you up, Allison?”
“Come in, Muriel,” said Allison.
“Oh my!” Muriel exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Don’t you look as pretty as a picture! What a beautiful outfit, Allison. It suits you to a tee.”
“Thanks, Muriel. It’s my favorite of the things we bought yesterday. I thought I might as well wear it for my first day.”
“It’s perfect. And when you’re ready, I’ve got breakfast for you downstairs.”
“Thanks, Muriel. I guess Dad will be taking me to school today. . . .”
“Actually, Andrew called yesterday afternoon before you and James got home. I forgot to mention that he and Heather wanted to give you a ride. I don’t think your dad will mind.” Muriel winked.
“That sounds great, Muriel. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Allison latched her gold locket around her neck and checked the mirror one more time to make sure everything was in place. Then she went to her closet and took out the brown corduroy car coat that Marsha had given her in New York. It was one that Marsha had gotten for a trip to the mountains last winter but had never worn since. She had thought Allison might get some use out of it, and it looked just right with this outfit.
“Okay,” said Allison out loud. “Here goes nothing.” Then she whispered a prayer in her heart, asking God to help her not make a complete fool of herself today.
“Good morning,” James said, looking up from his cof
fee when Allison entered the kitchen. He set the morning paper aside, then slowly shook his head. “You look fantastic, Allison. You ready to knock them all dead?”
“Dad,” she said in a dramatic tone. “I should be going to school to get an education, not to impress people.” Then she laughed. “Still, just between you and me, I’m dying to know what they will think of me.”
“Don’t worry about that, Allison. I’m sure you’ll fit in perfectly. Say, I hear that you already have a ride to school today. I guess that’s preferable to being driven by the old man?”
Allison felt bad. “No, not really,” she stammered. “I don’t mind who drives me—if you want to—”
“Nonsense. I think it’s great that you can ride with Heather and Andrew. Actually, I’m anxious to start a new painting today.”
“Really? What are you going to paint?”
James smiled mysteriously. “I don’t like to reveal my work till it’s finished.”
“Sounds interesting.” Allison sat down and looked at the loaded plate that Muriel was placing before her. “Goodness, I’m getting so nervous I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat all that.”
“Well, you don’t have to clean the plate, dear, but eat something,” Muriel ordered like a concerned mother hen.
Allison slowly managed to make a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice disappear before she heard Andrew’s horn tooting in the driveway. “Good-bye,” she said as she grabbed up her coat.
“Good luck, Allison,” James called as she ran out the door.
Andrew was waiting by the old jalopy. He wore a black-and-gold letterman jacket and opened the passenger door for her as if she were a queen. “You look like you’re all ready for school, Allison.”
“I guess I am,” she replied, wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment. She slid in next to Heather and said, “I’m so nervous I feel like I could lose my breakfast.”
Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2 Page 4