Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2

by Melody Carlson

  “You go ahead and have lunch with Karen and her friends,” said Heather on Thursday when Allison invited her to join them.

  “But I want to eat with you,” Allison said. “Caroline can come along, too.”

  “I don’t think they want me at their table.” Caroline looked down at her plate.

  Allison sighed. It was probably true. Caroline had the uncanny ability to make people uncomfortable. Earlier in the week, just after Caroline had learned about Allison’s mother being Marsha Madison, she couldn’t stop staring at Allison as if she, too, were also a movie star.

  “Go ahead, Allison, I really don’t mind,” Heather said encouragingly.

  Allison looked at Karen’s table. The girls were laughing loudly now, and it sounded like fun. Why did she have to choose between Heather and the others? Just then, as if on cue, Karen looked over and waved at Allison.

  “Go ahead,” Caroline said. “We’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Allison replied decisively. “Not unless you will both come with me. Come on, you two, let’s all go and join them.”

  “Really?” Caroline looked skeptical.

  “Yes,” Allison said, pulling Heather along with her.

  “Hi, there,” Karen greeted. “Pull up a piece of bench.”

  Allison found spots for herself and Heather and nodded to Caroline to take the empty space directly across from them, right next to Janet. Allison didn’t miss the sour look on Janet’s face as Caroline sat next to her and hoped that Caroline hadn’t seen it.

  “Janet,” teased Karen, “you look as if your lunch doesn’t agree with you.”

  “Yes,” Janet muttered as she rolled her eyes. “Too much spice in the meatloaf.”

  Allison sighed in relief.

  “Are you going to the game in Trenton on Saturday, Allison?” Beverly asked.

  “Yes, my dad is going to drive us. I guess it takes almost two hours to get there.”

  “We’re going to spend the night at my aunt’s house so we don’t have to drive back so late,” said Karen. “You could join us, but you’ll probably want ride back with your dad.”

  “You’re right,” Allison said. “But thanks for thinking of us.”

  “Hey, Allison,” Karen said between bites. “I keep forgetting to ask you something. I noticed how much you seem to enjoy those writing projects that Miss Jones keeps assigning for English. You should talk to Beverly about the Pirate Chest.”

  “What’s that?” asked Allison as she opened her milk.

  “The school paper,” Janet said as if Allison should know this by now. “Beverly is the assistant editor, and she’s always trying to get us to join the ranks. Don’t do it, Allison.”

  Allison laughed, then turned to Beverly with genuine interest. “Actually, I’d like to hear more about it.”

  Janet groaned. “You’ll be sorry. . . .”

  “Give it a rest, Janet,” said Beverly. “Just because you’re too lazy—”

  “Lazy has nothing to do—”

  “C’mon, you two,” said Karen. “Allison might like working for the paper.”

  “Actually, I do like to write,” she confirmed.

  “Ah-ha, I suspected you were the literary type,” said Beverly smugly. “Okay, meet me in the journalism room right after school, and I’ll give you the whole scoop.”

  Allison discussed the possibility of working for the school paper with Heather as they walked to their last class of the day.

  “I really think you should do it,” Heather said. “You’ll probably be very good at it. I remember when Grace read me your letters last summer, I always felt as if I were right there with you in Beverly Hills or wherever you were writing from. You seem to have a real gift.”

  “You would probably be good at it, too,” Allison said. “You are always saying things that sound like they could be written in a book.”

  Heather laughed. “I think I’d rather focus on my music right now, but I appreciate the compliment. You know, Andrew has expressed interest in working on the paper. I hear that they only started it last spring—that’s why they’re a little short staffed.”

  “It would be great to get in on the ground floor,” said Allison. “Beverly seems to think it’s possible. Can Caroline take you to meet my dad in the parking lot and tell him I’ll be about ten minutes late?”

  “Sure. Um . . . I wanted to tell you something while Caroline is in the bathroom. Remember last week when she was so glum about not going to the dance, and we told her that we’d help her to fit in better and everything?”

  “Uh-huh,” Allison said quickly as they neared the classroom.

  “Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I sort of offered to do something with her on Friday night.”

  “This Friday?”

  “Yes, is that okay?” Heather’s voice grew uncertain. “I told her I would have to check with you first.”

  “Sure, I guess so. What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, the thing is, she was nervous about coming to my house because of Andrew, you see.”

  Allison laughed. “Because of Andrew?”

  “Shh, she might be coming,” Heather whispered.

  “I don’t see her.”

  “Well, I wondered, Allison . . . do you think we could come to your house? Grace could come over and—”

  “Here comes Caroline now. Sure,” Allison whispered quickly. “No problem, Heather.”

  “Thanks, Allison,” Heather said in relief. “We’ll talk later.”

  Allison met with Beverly after school as planned. The journalism room was off by itself in a small building separate from the school. Beverly gave her a quick tour of the facility, such as it was, including the closet, which served as a darkroom, and the mimeograph machine that was used to print the paper. Beverly introduced Allison to several students whom she had seen around school. The only name she retained was Howard Ketchum’s—only because she had heard Andrew say that Howard was the smartest kid in school, maybe even a genius. Howard was tall and slim and seemed a little shy behind his horn-rimmed glasses, but he smiled and shook her hand and told her that he hoped she would want to come on board. After Howard returned to his big black typewriter, Beverly explained that although Howard was only a junior, he was the editor of the paper.

  “It’s not much,” Beverly apologized. “But it’s a start.” She held up a small stack of handwritten and typed papers. “And this will be our first issue of the year. Our original goal was to have a weekly paper, but we’re so short staffed that we’ll start out with a monthly and hopefully speed up as the year progresses. So what do you think?”

  Allison didn’t have to think twice before answering, “I think I’d like to give it a try.”

  “Great! I work after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sometimes I’m late if we have cheerleading practice, but Howard can keep you busy. He’s the brains, I’m just the organizer.” Beverly looked over her shoulder, and Howard smiled shyly at her.

  “I’d be lost without Beverly,” he admitted. “I’m not the management type.”

  “Well, I think this looks like fun,” Allison said. “I wish I could stay and work, but my dad’s waiting. I’ll have to start planning on staying late on Tuesdays and Thursdays from now on.”

  “Excellent,” said Howard. “We could use some more help around here.”

  Allison was so excited when she got into the car that she immediately launched into the story about working on the paper. “I’ll need to stay late two days a week, Dad. Is that okay with you?”

  “You could probably ride home with Andrew when he has football practice,” Heather suggested.

  “That’s right,” James said. “And we can figure the rest out later. It sounds like a fun opportunity for you, Allison. I know how you like to write.”

  After they dropped off Heather at home, Allison asked if she could have Heather and Caroline spend the night on Friday.

  “Sure, Allison, what’s up?”

  “Well, I sort of p
romised Heather that we would try to help Caroline look more like the other girls in school. I mean, she’s nice and everything, but she just doesn’t fit in very well. Do you think it’s hopeless?”

  “Nothing is hopeless. I think it’s very nice of you to care.”

  “We’re going to ask Grace to come help, too.”

  James smiled. “Grace will enjoy that. I know she likes Caroline a lot. She would love to help her out.”

  They took the road toward the airport. “I’ve got some business to take care of with Mac,” he said with a mysterious twinkle in his eye.

  “Business?” Allison asked slyly. “Is it the kind of business I’m hoping it is?”

  “Maybe. Do you want to come into the office with me? I don’t mind if you listen, Allison. I’d like you to be my partner in this.”

  Allison grinned. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I can’t wait to see Mac’s face.”

  It was even better than Allison imagined. Mac jumped out of his chair in excitement. “You mean it?” he shouted with glee, slapping James on the back. “You truly mean it? You’re not just putting me on now?”

  “Take it easy, Mac. It’s not all signed and sealed yet, but it seems that Hal and Marge are ready to get me out of their hair for good. My attorney is still looking things over, and we want everything done right. Still, it looks like I could be the new owner sometime in November if all goes well.”

  “That’s only a few more weeks,” Mac exclaimed. “This is the grandest news I’ve heard since the war ended. This is a day to celebrate!”

  “Well, let’s save our celebrating until it’s all done. And remember, Mac, not a word of this to anyone. I only wanted you to know because I know how much this place means to you.”

  “Ah-ha,” said Mac knowingly. “Then I’m guessing you haven’t told Grace about this new little business venture yet.”

  James shook his head. “Everything is happening so fast right now. I know that I should, but there just hasn’t been the right time yet.”

  “I’ve still got that banner—”

  “Please . . . not the banner again.”

  “I know you young people think differently about these things,” Mac said. “But I grew up in a world where the men did what they had to do, and the women didn’t have a whole lot to say about it.”

  “I understand,” James said. “But I’ve learned to look at things differently. Mostly, I don’t want to hurt Grace.”

  “You do what you think is best, James, and thanks for sharing the good news. I’ll be sleeping a little easier tonight.”

  Allison considered Mac’s words about women as they drove home. In the case of Grace and her father, she thought it sounded okay, but at the same time she knew that if she were Grace she might feel differently. Of course, Grace and her father weren’t married. They weren’t even officially engaged.

  “You look like you’re in another world, Allison Mercury. Are you thinking about that school paper?”

  “No, actually, I was thinking about the airport and about what Mac said. I think that if Grace really loves you, she would be willing to stand by you—no matter what.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do, Dad. Maybe you can tell her tomorrow night—when she comes over to help with Caroline. Just make sure you don’t spill the beans until we’re all done with Caroline. I wouldn’t want to blow her concentration.”

  James laughed. “That’s my practical daughter.”

  But the next day James had to make an unexpected trip to deliver more paintings to a gallery up the coast. He left a message for Allison with Muriel saying he wouldn’t be home until late. Allison knew that if they had their air shipping business he could have easily delivered the paintings and still made it back in time for dinner. One more good reason to proceed with the airport purchase.

  Grace brought Heather and Caroline over as planned, and they spent their first hour flipping through the pile of recent issues of fashion magazines that Marsha had tossed into the bottom of Allison’s trunk. At first Allison had a hard time looking Grace in the eye. She felt slightly guilty for the secret that she and Andrew were keeping from her. If only her father had been able to tell Grace tonight as planned. It would’ve been nice to have gotten everything out into the open once and for all.

  Soon they were so caught up in discussing various hairstyle possibilities and wardrobe changes that Allison put thoughts of the airport business out of her head. Besides, she told herself, Grace would support them in this. She had to.

  Before long it was decided that Caroline needed her hair cut. She always wore it pulled severely back with silver barrettes at the sides, then it hung straight down her back like a horse’s tail. This style only served to make her rather large face look even bigger. Like Heather’s hair, Caroline’s was blond. But unlike Heather’s thick, luxurious curls, Caroline’s hair was thin and limp and barely waved.

  “Some bangs will soften your face,” Grace explained as she held Caroline’s hair around her face, pretending it was shorter.

  “Do you know how to cut hair?” asked Caroline.

  “Well, I cut the boys’ hair and my own,” Grace said hesitantly.

  “And you trim mine,” Heather reminded her.

  “Then please cut mine,” Caroline said assertively.

  Grace blinked in surprise but then agreed. Soon Caroline’s hair was bluntly cut just above her shoulders with neat bangs that framed her face. Grace dampened and curled the hair onto rods, then wrapped a white tea towel around her head.

  “You know,” Allison said as she studied Caroline without her bulky, dark-framed glasses. “I don’t know if you’ve ever considered changing your glasses, but . . .” She paused for a moment. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing and hurt Caroline’s feelings.

  “Yes?” Caroline asked anxiously. “My mom has been telling me it’s time to get some new ones. These are all sprung on the hinges. I’ve had them ever since the sixth grade.”

  “I remember a girl from boarding school who wore glasses, but the rims were so delicate and light colored that it almost didn’t look like she had glasses on. She was a very pretty girl. In fact, I remember actually wishing I wore glasses because I thought I might look like her.” Allison laughed.

  “That’s a great idea, Allison,” Grace said. “You know, I’ve heard it said that President Truman looks like a completely different man when he takes off his glasses. It’s amazing how such a small thing can make such a great difference.”

  Grace and Allison also decided that Caroline’s hemlines should all go down at least three inches whenever possible, and they thought she should avoid the frilly types of blouses that she seemed to wear so often.

  “They’re pretty,” Grace said gently. “But I don’t think they quite fit your face, Caroline. I think you should go for the more classic style.”

  “Yes,” agreed Allison quickly. “Like Katharine Hepburn. I saw her in Hollywood last summer. She’s a very striking woman, and she looks terrific in trousers. I wish my legs were long like hers, then I would wear trousers all the time.”

  “I didn’t want any new clothes for school this year,” said Caroline. “My mom sure wasn’t very happy about that, but I don’t like shopping with her. She always wants to dress me up like I’m still her little girl. She doesn’t understand how the other girls dress, and I’m hopeless at finding the right things myself. Besides . . .” Caroline looked down at her hands and frowned at her chewed fingernails. “It’s hard to find clothes that fit just right. I know I’ve put on a little weight in the last year. I keep telling Mom that I’m getting fat, but she just laughs and says I look healthy. She’s always making cookies and cakes and things—” Her voice caught, and tears glistened in her eyes.

  “Grace knows a lot about nutrition and diet,” said Heather. “She is a registered nurse, you know. I’ll bet she could tell you what’s good to eat and what you might want to avoid.”

  “Will you, Grace?” Caroline
asked hopefully.

  “Certainly, dear. We’ll write up a diet for you to follow. But it will be up to you to stick with it. It takes a lot of discipline and exercise to lose weight.”

  “I’d really like to try,” Caroline sniffed, and Allison handed her a handkerchief.

  Allison remembered what Heather had told her about Caroline’s only brother. He had enlisted in the army in 1944, and not long after he arrived in Europe he was reported as missing in action. Caroline rarely spoke of him, and Heather said that Caroline clung to the hope that her brother was alive. Suddenly, Allison realized that she had been so consumed by her own problems that she had hardly registered how hard all this must be on poor Caroline, not to mention her parents. No wonder Heather had been so kind and loyal to Caroline. She made a silent vow to do the same from now on.

  By the time Grace left and the girls went to bed, they felt like they had made huge progress. Allison had even promised Caroline a few pieces of Marsha’s cast-off clothing as incentive if she could stick to her diet and meet her weight goal. Caroline had been ecstatic, disclosing that her secret dream was to become an actress someday.

  “Thank you both so much,” Caroline said in the darkness. Her voice sounded stronger now, more confident. “I’m going to do everything we’ve said. I know it will take time and work, but I’m going to do it. When my brother, Kevin, comes home, I want him to be proud of me.”

  “Caroline,” said Allison, “he must already be proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Allison. But I want him to see me happy, too.”

  “Good for you, Caroline,” Heather cheered. “We’ll do all that we can to help.”

  “Yes,” Allison teased playfully. “I promise to smack you every time I see you biting a nail.”

  “And I’ll ask you about your diet and exercise every day at lunch,” said Heather.

  “You two are the best friends I’ve ever had,” said Caroline. “I won’t let you down.”

  “Don’t do it for us, Caroline,” Allison urged. “And doing it for your brother is nice, but I think you should do it for yourself. It’s your life, you know. You’re the only one who can really live it.”