“Not about Shirley,” agreed Andrew.
Heather sighed. “Well, now that we’ve wrapped that up. Did Andrew tell you?”
“Tell me what?” asked Allison.
“Not now, Heather,” urged Andrew.
“But why put it off? It’s only two days away!”
“Heather!” hissed Andrew.
Allison just knew that Andrew had asked Beverly to the Christmas dance. And while she wasn’t thrilled with the idea, at least she wasn’t upset. Perhaps the best way to smooth things over would be to seem excited about the whole thing.
“I think I know what you’re talking about,” said Allison.
“You do?” Andrew glanced quickly at her, then focused his attention back on the road.
“Yes,” said Allison. “I think it has to do with the Christmas dance.”
“That’s right,” said Heather triumphantly.
“Let’s see,” said Allison. “I’ll bet that Andrew is planning to go.”
“You’re good, Allison,” said Heather.
“And I’ll bet that he is taking Beverly Howard!” She forced a smile to her lips.
“Beverly Howard?” cried Heather. “Andrew, you didn’t invite Beverly, did you?”
Andrew cleared his throat. “Actually, Beverly asked me.”
“Beverly asked you?” Heather sounded horrified. “I didn’t think Beverly was like that. That’s more a Shirley Jenson sort of thing.”
Andrew laughed. “Actually, I think it’s okay for a girl to invite a guy. It takes a lot of nerve, if you ask me.”
Allison was listening silently, desperately trying to think of something light and witty to say, but no words came. Instead, she simply said, “Well, that’s nice that you’re taking Beverly to the dance, Andrew. You should both have a very nice time.”
“I’m not taking her—”
“But I thought you said—”
“I said she asked me. I didn’t say that I accepted.”
“Poor Beverly,” said Heather.
“Oh,” said Allison.
“But don’t worry about Beverly,” said Andrew. “She is going to the dance.”
“But not with you?” asked Heather.
“Not with me. She’s going with Howie.”
“Howie?” Allison repeated incredulously.
“Yes,” said Andrew. “Does that surprise you?”
“Well, a little, I suppose . . .”
“But Beverly and Howie are good friends.”
“Yes, I suppose . . .”
Andrew groaned.
“What is it, Andrew?” asked Heather.
“Maybe I just ruined everything.”
“What do you mean?” asked Allison. She felt as confused as Heather had seemed earlier.
“Let me tell you the whole story,” said Andrew. “Yesterday, while we were working on the paper, Beverly asked me if I wanted to go to the Christmas dance with her. I thanked her for asking me but said that I had been thinking of asking someone else. She asked who, and I said I was thinking of asking Allison if her father would give me permission—”
Allison gasped, afraid to raise her hopes too soon. “Really?”
“Of course,” said Andrew. “Why not?”
“I just thought that you and Beverly . . .”
“Beverly’s nice and all, but she’s a little too serious about this dating stuff for me. I wanted to take someone to the dance who is a good friend—someone I can have fun with. A pal.”
Allison smiled. That’s what she wanted, too.
“So after Beverly realized that I wasn’t game, she headed over for Howie and asked him.” Andrew glanced nervously at Allison. “This is where I might have blown it, Allison. You see, when Beverly asked Howie, he mentioned that he had been thinking of asking you but hadn’t had the opportunity. Well, Beverly got a little nutty then—going on about how it seemed everyone wanted to take Allison O’Brian to the dance. It’s probably a good thing you weren’t there, Allison. And she told Howie that I was already taking you. So Howie agreed to go with Beverly, and then Beverly was back in good spirits again and actually suggested that the four of us might go together. You know, just four friends out having a good time.” Andrew paused and took a breath. “So did I mess everything up, Al? Did you want to go to the dance with Howie?”
“No, not at all.”
“So,” Andrew took a breath, “do you think you’d like to go to the dance with me?”
“Sure. It sounds like fun. But I don’t know what Dad—”
“I mentioned it to him last night when I stopped by your house. He didn’t seem to think it was a problem.”
“There,” said Heather triumphantly. “I thought we’d never get that worked out. Andrew told me on Sunday that he was thinking of asking you. Talk about a bad case of procrastination.”
Allison laughed. “Actually, I think Andrew’s timing is perfect.”
“You do?” said Andrew.
Allison grinned. “Yep. I needed a couple of days to work some things out.”
“Like what?” asked Heather.
“Oh, just things like who your friends are, what’s really important, you know . . .”
Heather laughed. “You’re lucky that you’re asking a girl to a formal dance who happens to have a closet full of beautiful gowns to choose from.”
“Not a whole closet, Heather,” argued Allison good-naturedly. “But my movie-star mother has been more than generous with her hand-me-down gowns.”
“So you think my last-minute timing won’t be a problem?” said Andrew.
“Not at all, Andrew. I’m already looking forward to Friday. And I think it will be great fun to go with Howie and Beverly. Like you said, four friends out having a good time—it sounds great to me.”
Andrew sighed loudly. “Phew, I’m glad that’s done. I don’t know how Beverly got up the nerve to ask not only me, but then Howie, too.”
“Beverly is a gutsy gal,” said Allison. “I don’t think I could do that.”
Andrew laughed. “And Howie confessed to me later that it was his second invitation to the dance!”
“Who was the other?” asked Allison.
“Shirley Jenson.”
Allison nodded. “Of course, that would explain something.”
“Explain what?” asked Heather.
“Yesterday, when we were rowing—rather, I was rowing—out to the island, Shirley was getting all worked up about Howie. She insinuated that I had something going on with Howie that was keeping him from being interested in her.”
“I don’t know who would be interested in Shirley,” said Andrew. “Especially once the word gets around about what she did to you.”
“Maybe we should keep it quiet,” said Allison.
“But what about your news story, Allison? Won’t people find out when they read that?” said Heather.
“I didn’t mention what Shirley did in my article.”
“Then I guess it all depends on how Shirley handles it,” suggested Andrew.
“Maybe,” said Allison. “And you can never tell with Shirley.”
“Do you think she’ll apologize to you, Allison?” asked Heather.
“I don’t know. Dad’s determined to make Hal understand the seriousness of what she did. But I have to admit, I almost wish we could just forget the whole thing.”
“That probably wouldn’t do Shirley any good,” said Andrew.
“That’s true,” said Heather. “She needs to realize the danger she placed you in and be sorry about it.”
“Well,” said Allison, “as Muriel would say, you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.”
“And Shirley Jenson is as stubborn as an old mule,” laughed Andrew.
“It’s a beautiful gown, Allison,” Muriel said through the stickpins in her mouth. “And this gorgeous green is perfect for Christmas. It reminds me of glossy holly leaves. Give another little turn, dear.”
Allison carefully pivoted a few degree
s on the footstool. “Thanks for hemming it up, Muriel. I hated to bother Grace right now; she’s so busy getting things ready for the wedding.”
“It’s so nice that Andrew decided to go to the dance,” said Muriel. “Although it would’ve been nice if he’d given us a little more notice! Another turn, dear.”
Just as Allison began to turn, a quiet knock sounded on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she called out cheerfully.
Allison cranked her head to see who it was without messing up Muriel’s hemming, but she nearly fell off the stool when she saw Shirley Jenson step into her room.
“What are you doing here?” asked Allison with wide eyes.
Muriel turned to see. “My word!” she exclaimed, rising to her full height.
“Your dad told me I could come up to talk to you,” said Shirley sullenly. “My dad is down there talking to him right now.”
“Oh.” Allison looked down at Muriel, then back to Shirley. “You’ll have to wait until Muriel is finished here.”
“It’s okay,” said Shirley. She stood next to the door and waited.
“You can sit down if you want,” offered Allison stiffly as she got back into position for Muriel. Why had Shirley come? Had Shirley’s dad forced her to come up here to apologize? It wouldn’t be pleasant. Perhaps the best thing would be to just get it over with.
“Another turn, dear,” mumbled Muriel.
“What did you want, Shirley?” asked Allison with her back to her.
“Well,” began Shirley slowly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I left you out on the island yesterday.”
“I see,” said Allison.
“Another turn, please,” said Muriel quietly.
Allison turned again. “Why did you do it, Shirley?”
Shirley took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I was getting cold, and I called for you, but you didn’t come. . . .”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might get cold, too,” asked Allison, “after you left me there with no way to get home?”
“Not really.”
“Another turn, dear,” said Muriel.
Allison turned again. Now she could see Shirley sitting on her bed. Her head was down, and she was fidgeting with her hands. “I did get cold, Shirley,” continued Allison. “It began to rain, the wind was blowing, and soon it was dark. Not only that, the thieves were on the island. Did you know that?”
Shirley shook her head without looking up. “I didn’t know it at the time.”
“I actually thought that you might have gone to get help,” said Allison. “I thought perhaps you were calling the police and getting my dad.”
“I said that I didn’t know about the thieves, Allison.”
“Right. You just left because you were cold. And you didn’t care that you abandoned me out on the island, in the dark, to freeze to death.” Allison wanted to get through to Shirley—to somehow make her understand the seriousness of her actions.
“I tried to call your dad later on,” said Shirley without looking up, “but the line was busy.”
“He tried to call your house, but no one answered,” said Allison.
“I might’ve been in the tub.”
“Yes, I’m sure a hot bath would’ve felt nice. While you were in your warm tub, I was probably sitting on the rocks getting soaked and cold, worrying that the robbers might find me.”
“I really am sorry, Allison,” said Shirley, looking up. There were streams of tears coming down her cheeks. “It was a stupid thing to do. Okay? Probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I’ve certainly done plenty!”
Allison had never seen Shirley cry before. She didn’t think the girl was capable of tears and even wondered now if they were genuine.
“Turn again, please, Allison.”
Allison turned. Now she was facing Shirley head on and didn’t know what to say. For a long, silent moment she studied Shirley, sitting on the bed. Shirley’s face was red and blotchy and streaked with tears. Perhaps this wasn’t an act after all.
“Are you really sorry, Shirley?” asked Allison quietly.
Shirley nodded, then looked up. “You probably think I’m only sorry because I got in trouble, but the truth is I am sorry that I left you out there all by yourself. It was the meanest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m not very proud of it. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”
Allison sighed. She knew what she needed to say, but why was it so difficult? Finally, she spoke. “I will forgive you, Shirley. Jesus says we’re supposed to forgive those who hurt us and to love our enemies. It’s not always the easy way, but it’s always the best way.”
“And I’m sure you think that I’m your enemy.”
“What do you think, Shirley?”
Shirley didn’t answer, and Muriel slowly stood. “That’s the last of it, Allison. I’ll come back up later to get the dress. Watch out for the pins when you take it off.”
Allison took Muriel’s extended hand as she stepped down from the stool. Her back to Shirley, Muriel was smiling at Allison with moist eyes.
“Thanks, Muriel,” said Allison. “I really appreciate it.”
Muriel left, and Allison stood looking at Shirley, wondering what more needed to be said. Shirley had wiped her tears, but her eyes and nose were still red.
“I don’t think I could forgive anyone if they did what I did to me,” Shirley said quietly.
“I couldn’t, either,” said Allison, “not without God’s help.”
“Oh,” said Shirley. “I doubt that God would help me.”
“You’ve done some pretty rotten things, Shirley. But that doesn’t mean that God would give up on you. In fact, the reason that Jesus died on the cross was to forgive all the people who were bad—which includes everyone.”
Shirley looked skeptical. “I don’t think so, Allison. All that religious stuff is just for good people—people like you.”
Allison laughed. “I’m not so good, Shirley. I’ve lied and cheated. I’ve even stolen.”
Shirley’s eyes popped open wide. “I don’t believe it, Allison. Not you.”
“Sure. And it wasn’t that long ago. Last summer I lied about going to summer camp, I stole money from my mother, and then I ran away.”
“No kidding?”
“I’m not saying it to impress you, Shirley,” said Allison. “It’s just to show you that I’m not perfect—not even close.”
“And I always thought you were such a goody-two-shoes.”
Allison laughed. “That shows how little you know me. Even after I wanted to change, I went through some really hard times. But I finally realized that I needed God—I couldn’t turn my life around by myself. That’s when I invited Jesus into my heart, and since then it’s been a whole lot easier.”
“It sounds too simple, Allison. Is that really all you did?”
Allison nodded. “The changes didn’t happen overnight, and I still make mistakes all the time. Like if I could’ve put my hands on you when I was angry out on the island—I don’t know what I might’ve done.”
Shirley nodded. “I can understand that.”
“But that would’ve only made me more miserable,” said Allison. “That’s why it’s better to just forgive you.”
Shirley clenched her fists and frowned. “I can’t understand that, Allison. I don’t think I could forgive anyone like that. The reason it was so easy to leave you out there was because I was mad at you. I felt like I hated you at the time.”
“Why?”
Shirley held up her hands and shrugged. “Why not? You have it all, Allison. It’s just not fair. It makes me really hate you.”
“I don’t ‘have it all,’ Shirley.”
“Your mom’s a famous movie star.”
“Don’t you realize how awful that’s made my life? I would’ve traded places with anyone hundreds of times.”
“And then there was the thing with Howie. . . .”
“Howie i
s just a friend.”
“But he likes you better than me.” Shirley’s eyes filled with fresh tears.
“I can’t help that.”
“And I hate how your newspaper stories are always getting all the attention—”
“I put a lot of work into them.”
“And then you make friends so easily—everyone seems to hate me.”
“That’s just it, Shirley. If you could quit worrying about your life and just hand it over to Jesus, He’d do a much better job with it. Believe me! You’ve managed to make a pretty bad mess of it so far.”
Tears began to pour down Shirley’s cheeks again, and Allison wondered if she’d said too much. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Shirley. But you must know it’s true. Your life looks pretty messed up from where I’m standing.”
“I know it is.” Shirley nodded and blew her nose. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”
“You don’t have to fix it, Shirley. You just have to let God. He’ll do all the fixing.”
“I don’t know how to let Him.”
“You just ask, Shirley.”
“You mean like praying?”
Allison nodded.
“I don’t know how to. . . .”
“Do you want me to pray with you?”
“I guess so, but I’m kind of scared.” She looked up at Allison with the most sincere expression that Allison had ever seen on her face.
Allison sat on the bed next to Shirley, and the green taffeta made a soft rustling sound. She reached over and took Shirley’s cold hand. Shirley bowed her head, and Allison could hear her crying softly.
“Dear God,” began Allison. “I’m here with Shirley because she needs your help, and you said all we need to do is to ask. So we’re asking.” Allison paused. She had heard others lead people in a repentance prayer, but she had never done it herself. She hoped God would help her. She turned to Shirley and spoke quietly. “Now, Shirley, if you are really serious about this, you have to invite Jesus into your heart, yourself. You can repeat the words after me, if you want.” Shirley nodded solemnly and Allison continued to pray.
“Dear God, I know that I’ve done lots of things wrong. . . .” She paused and waited for Shirley to repeat her words, then continued. “But I know that you promised to forgive me if I believe in your Son, Jesus Christ. . . .” Again she paused. “So I confess that I believe in Jesus, and I invite Him into my heart right now. . . .” Allison sneaked a peek at Shirley as she echoed the words. “Please help me to live my life the way you want me to, God, not the way I want to.” Allison waited for Shirley, then said, “Amen.”
Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2 Page 32