“It’s too bad that girl had to say that, Allison. It might not even be true. Why don’t you try to forget the whole thing and just act as if everything is the same as always. Then if it’s not true, you won’t be embarrassed. And if it is true, it will probably just blow over in time.”
“That makes sense.”
“And how’s our old friend Shirley Jenson doing these days?”
“Actually, I had a small success with her today.” Allison launched into a dramatized story about Shirley’s new society column until James was laughing so loud that Muriel had to come see if everything was all right.
“I’ll explain the whole thing, Muriel,” said Allison as she began carrying dishes into the kitchen, and before long both George and Muriel were chuckling, too.
“It’s a wonder they didn’t end up calling it ‘Flossie’s Flotsam,’ ” laughed Muriel.
“I just hope this helps smooth things over between me and Shirley,” said Allison as she dried a plate.
“Well, I remember what Mercury O’Brian used to say about her adversaries,” said Muriel.
“Grandmother Mercury had adversaries?”
“Not many, mind you. But some of the best people are just born to it, Allison. Anyway, your dear grandmother used to say, ‘I’ll kill them with kindness, I will.’ And she would.”
“Kill them?”
“Not actually kill them. But she would lavish so much pure, sweet kindness on them that it would actually kill their mean spirits. It seemed that even her worst enemies eventually came around and usually turned into her most devoted friends. My, but she had lots of friends.”
“Really, even her enemies came around?”
“Sometimes it took years and years. In fact, one cantankerous old woman didn’t come around until after Mercury’s death.”
“It figures,” said Allison. “I can just imagine Shirley Jenson at the ripe old age of ninety-three, standing at my funeral saying, ‘Whatever shall I do? My very best friend has gone off and died on me!’ ”
Muriel laughed. “You never know, darling. You just never know.”
“Would you girls like to come to the basketball game with me tonight?” asked Andrew as he drove them to school on Friday. “I’ve got to cover it for my news story.”
“I don’t think I’d care to,” said Heather. “I promised to help Grace with some wedding things, and besides, I don’t even like basketball.”
“You don’t?” said Allison in surprise. “I think it’s swell. I used to play forward on the team back at Oakmont. Next to soccer, it’s my favorite sport.”
“Really?” said Andrew with interest. “I don’t care much for it, myself.”
“Why not?” asked Allison.
“The truth is they didn’t play it in England, and I don’t know much about it. I mean, I know how to dribble and shoot, but I don’t know the actual rules. It was easier to learn to play football, since it’s quite a bit like rugby, and I always loved rugby. But I’ve never taken the time to learn anything about basketball.”
“Won’t that make it a bit difficult to report on it?” asked Heather.
Andrew smiled. “Not if my good buddy Allison lends me a hand.”
“Oh, I see. And what do I get out of this little arrangement?” asked Allison.
“I’ll treat you to a hot dog.” They all laughed as Andrew pulled into the parking lot, then he turned to Allison. “Seriously, Al, can I count on you to help me out?”
“I’ll have to check with Dad first.”
“Swell!” Andrew grabbed his books and slid out of the truck. “See you girls after school,” he called as he jogged off to join some of his buddies.
“Heather,” said Allison as they walked toward the front door. “Do you think it’s okay if I go to the game with Andrew?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, you know—it might seem like a date.”
Heather laughed. “A basketball game?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s silly. And he really does need help for his story.”
“If you’re worried about your father, just remind him that Andrew will soon be like a brother to you.”
“Yes,” said Allison. She knew Heather meant well, but thinking of Andrew as a brother was not helpful. Not in the least.
At lunchtime, Allison invited Caroline and Heather to spend the night at her house on Saturday night. “I can interview Caroline for my article then,” explained Allison.
“Good idea,” said Heather. “And maybe it would be a good time to teach you both how to knit.”
“Yes,” agreed Caroline. “You’ve been promising to show us. I was hoping I’d have time to make something for my mom before Christmas.”
“How’s your scarf for John coming?” asked Allison.
“Finished.” Heather smiled smugly.
“Any letters lately?” asked Caroline.
“Now that you mention it . . .” said Heather mysteriously.
“Come on,” urged Allison. “Tell us the latest.”
“Well, I finally sent the photos from the Harvest Ball—remember? After John received them, he wrote back a wonderfully sweet letter.”
“Now I suppose he’s totally smitten,” teased Allison.
Heather blushed. “Oh, I doubt that. You know we’re just good friends. Besides, he’s in college and there are a lot of pretty girls around.”
“Not as pretty and sweet as you,” proclaimed Caroline with loyalty.
“Thanks,” said Heather. “But I would understand. John and I are friends and pen pals. It’s probably silly to think there’s anything more to it. We live in completely different worlds. But it’s fun writing to him.”
“I think it’d be romantic to have a sweetheart living far away,” said Caroline dreamily.
Heather laughed. “He’s not my sweetheart.”
“Just the same, it is sort of romantic,” said Allison as she picked up her tray. “And you might as well enjoy it, Heather.”
Heather grinned. “Don’t worry, Allison. I do.”
After school, James picked up Allison to help out at the airport. She had gladly agreed to work in the office a few hours a week in exchange for flying lessons. During this time she was to learn how to operate the radio as well as some basics of running a small rural airport.
“This place is really coming together,” said Allison as she examined the new filing system. “Very organized.”
“Compliments of Grace,” James said as he wrote in the schedule book. “She’s very efficient and orderly. We make a good pair—” he chuckled—”since I’m not.”
“Probably comes with her nursing background.”
James nodded. “Probably. Say, I tried to reach Marsha today to discuss this Christmas thing, but I had to leave a message with Lola.”
“Marsha’s not always easy to reach,” said Allison as she filed some receipts and bills. “Say, Dad, I forgot to mention that Andrew invited me to the basketball game tonight. He’s covering it for the paper, but he really doesn’t know much about basketball—and I happen to know a lot.”
“You do?” James looked at her in surprise, then grinned. “There’s still so much I don’t know about you, Allison. How do you know about basketball?”
Allison explained about the team at the academy, and James challenged her to a game of one-on-one sometime. “Maybe I should put a basketball hoop on one of the hangars. We shouldn’t let all that fine asphalt go to waste. It would be a fun way to pass the time when there’s not much to do around here.”
“And when will that be?” asked Allison skeptically. “It seems there’s so much to catch up on right now.”
James laughed. “Well, at the rate Grace is going, we’ll be caught up by the New Year. That woman is indomitable right now.” He glanced at the clock. “When is Andrew picking you up?”
Allison blinked. Did that mean it was okay to go to the game? She tried not to register her surprise. “Andrew said the game starts at
seven, but he wants to get there a little bit earlier—”
“Good grief, we better get you home so you can get ready and have some dinner. Let me go find Mac and let him know we’re going.”
The phone was ringing as they walked in the front door, and Allison ran down the hallway to grab it. “Hello?” she said breathlessly, thinking it might be Andrew, but it was the operator announcing a long-distance call.
“Hello, is this Allison?” Marsha’s smooth voice sounded small and far away.
“Yes. Is that you, Marsha?” Allison suddenly remembered the Christmas invitation and hoped Dad would hurry along in time to have this conversation with Marsha.
“How are you, darling?”
“I’m fine, Marsha. We just got in the door. Dad and I were out at the airport, and I had to hurry home to get ready for the basketball game.”
“Goodness, you are a busy girl. I didn’t realize there was so much to do in the backwoods of Oregon.” Marsha laughed. “But I am glad you’re having such a good time, Allison. Did you get my letter?”
“Yes. That’s why Dad was trying to reach you.” Her father was in the hallway removing his jacket, and Allison mouthed the word Marsha to him and pointed to the receiver. “Dad wants to discuss it all with you.”
“Is your father around?” Marsha’s voice stiffened slightly.
“Why, yes, he’s right here. I’ll put him on. It was swell talking with you, Marsha.”
“Yes, darling. It’s so wonderful to hear your voice again. I have missed you.”
Allison handed the phone to her father while mouthing, Be nice, with raised eyebrows. She wondered how he would deal with her. Marsha was being so incredibly sweet, and Allison didn’t want her to feel hurt or rejected right now.
“We’re all doing quite well, thank you,” said James in a polite but formal voice. “And you?” He listened for a long moment, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “Really?” he finally said with just a tiny smidgen of interest, and then, “You don’t say? Jimmy Stewart?” He paused, listening again, and then, to Allison’s surprise and pleasure, he actually chuckled. “Well, no one said being a famous film star would be easy, did they, Marsha?”
Allison glanced at her watch. She wanted to change her clothes, and it sounded like he was doing just fine in warming Marsha up before he broke the disappointing news. That was nice. Allison gave him a smile and a little wave, then dashed upstairs.
After trying on her third outfit, Allison finally decided to wear her charcoal tweed circle skirt with her russet mock turtleneck sweater, along with the new clogs she’d gotten on the shopping trip with Grace and Heather. Karen Brown already had a pair and had told Allison where to find them in Portland. After much deliberation, Heather had decided to get a pair, too. So far, they were the only three to have clogs in all of Port View High. Naturally, Shirley had made fun of the thick, wooden soles, calling them little Dutch-girl shoes, but Allison didn’t care. She liked to be different and thought the noise the shoes made when walking was fun.
Her dad was still on the phone when Allison got downstairs. She paused to listen, and his voice sounded pleasant—almost as if he were enjoying the conversation. She wondered if he could still be talking to Marsha. Perhaps he was speaking with Grace. When he noticed Allison, he began to wind down the conversation.
“Sure, Marsha,” he said. “That would be just fine . . . yes, and you, too. Good-bye.”
“Jeepers, Dad, were you talking to Marsha this whole time?”
James rubbed his chin. “She was in a chatty mood, and you told me to be nice to her. Besides,” he chuckled, “it was her phone bill.”
Allison laughed. “So is it all settled, then?”
He frowned. “Not exactly. Marsha went on and on about how Stanley wouldn’t be there and how lonely she would be and how much she enjoyed your company. . . .”
“So what did you say?”
“Well, I told her about the wedding plans and how this would be our first Christmas, things like that. But I just couldn’t bear to tell her absolutely no. I finally said you and I would discuss it some more and I would get back to her.”
Allison thought for a moment. “Does that mean you think I should go?”
“Not exactly, Allison. Naturally, I’d rather have you here with me. But maybe that’s selfish on my part. I don’t want to influence you. You’re not a child anymore. I think this should be your decision.”
Allison sighed loudly. “I think it was easier being a child. You just went wherever people told you without worrying about hurting anyone’s feelings.”
James cocked his head to one side. “And what about the time they told you to go to camp last summer?”
Allison grinned sheepishly. “Well, that was different.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to decide tonight, Allison. Don’t worry about it right now. Say, you better grab something to eat before Andrew gets here.”
Muriel quickly put a plate of food together for Allison, but she’d barely taken two bites before Andrew knocked at the door.
“Sorry, Muriel,” said Allison as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Why don’t you let me put that meat loaf into a sandwich for you,” offered Muriel.
“No, thanks,” said Allison. “Andrew promised to buy me a hot dog if I help him with his sports article.”
“That’s generous of him,” her dad teased as he led Andrew into the kitchen. “Does this mean my daughter works for food?”
Allison pulled on her corduroy car coat. “Just for friends and family.”
James nodded, then turned to Andrew. “It’s getting foggy out there, Andrew. Maybe you should drive the Buick instead of the jalopy.”
“If you think so, sir.”
“I think so.” James handed him the keys. “Now, drive carefully, young man, and take good care of my little girl.”
“You can count on it,” said Andrew in a responsible voice. “We better get going so we don’t miss the beginning of the game.”
“You mean the tip-off,” corrected Allison.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “See how embarrassing this is? She knows more about the sport than I do.”
James laughed. “Don’t be too hard on him, Allison.”
As they drove, Allison told Andrew how her father had decided that it should be her choice whether or not to go to Marsha’s for Christmas.
“Then it’s easy,” said Andrew. “Just tell her no.”
Allison moaned. “It’s not that easy, Andrew. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Even after all the times she’s hurt you?”
“But I’ve forgiven her, remember?”
“Yes.” Andrew nodded. “And I realize that was the right thing to do, Allison. I don’t know if I could’ve done that if I’d been in your shoes. Whenever I think of Marsha Madison, I get a little bit angry.”
“That’s because you don’t really know her; you’ve only heard lots of bad stories. And the truth is I don’t think I could’ve not forgiven her,” said Allison. “I was miserable when I was so bitter against her. And now she’s being so nice and sweet . . . I’d hate to let her down.”
“But what about letting your father down?”
“That’s the problem. But at least Dad would understand. Plus he has Grace and the rest of you. Marsha doesn’t have anyone right now.”
“What about her husband, Stanley?”
“He’s going to be in New York.”
“Gee, that is tough. Have you prayed about it, Allison?”
“A little. I guess I should pray about it some more, huh?”
“I guess so.”
It was warm and noisy in the gymnasium, but the game hadn’t started yet. The gym took on a golden glow, with the overhead lights reflecting off the shiny maple floor. Allison looked around the crowded wooden bleachers and wondered if they’d even find a place to sit. But Andrew led her straight to a bench directly behind where the players sat. It
was reserved for reporters. Allison reminded herself that she was a reporter, too, so she flipped open her note pad and hoped to look as official as Andrew.
“You a reporter?” asked a balding man sitting on her right.
“Yes, we represent our school paper,” answered Allison in a business voice. “You’ve heard of the Pirate Chest?”
“You bet.” The man smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Sam Long from the Port View Herald.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Long. I’m Allison O’Brian from Tamaqua Point. And this is my friend Andrew Amberwell.”
“Since you’re a fellow reporter, you better call me Sam.” He smiled at Andrew. “And I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Andrew, here. You had a great football season, son.”
“Thanks. But it’s fun being on the sidelines for a change.”
“I hear you’re being considered for some college scholarships, Andrew. Have you heard anything official yet? Strictly off the record, of course.”
Andrew grinned. “Actually, I did hear from a couple of smaller colleges, but I’m hoping to hear from the state schools before long.”
“Well, you let me know when you make a decision. I’d like to do a little write-up about you—you know the bit, local sports hero makes good.”
“Sure,” said Andrew. “I’ll let you know.”
Soon the basketball game started, and Allison began to discreetly explain to Andrew what was going on. But she could see that it was making him uncomfortable, especially with Sam Long sitting so close by.
“How about if I just take notes?” she whispered. “I can explain it all after the game.”
Andrew smiled. “That’d be swell, Al. I’ll take notes, too. You can fill me in on the correct terminology later.”
At half time, Karen and Beverly came over to chat with Andrew and Allison. Shirley Jenson was right on their heels. Once again, Shirley had on her black-and-gold outfit that looked suspiciously like a cheerleader’s. Allison wondered if Shirley had any idea how ridiculous it made her appear.
“How’s our new sports reporter doing?” asked Beverly.
“Okay, I guess,” said Andrew. “And the team’s doing better than I expected.”
Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2 Page 23