by Dyan Sheldon
Boycott Coca-Cola. Don’t buy stuff made in China. Save Gracie Mooney.
I saw you as I was walking past… In a trance of terminal boredom… Was that really why Cooper came into Java? Because he thought I looked like I needed his help?
“I know what he’s like, Savanna. And I’m not into him.” I wasn’t.
“Are you sure, Gracie?”
“Of course I’m sure.” But maybe I was a little, you know, flattered by the attention.
Savanna laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. I mean, Mr Holier than Thou, he’s like such a major pain in the butt – always moaning about starving children and telling you not to wear labels and stuff.”
You’d think he could worry about drunken movie stars and TV shows like everyone else.
She started walking again. “Come on, let’s find something for Marilouise and go to Java. I could really use a coffee.”
Make mine a double espresso.
Chapter Ten
Savanna Changes Her Plans
(and Everybody Else’s)
It may sound weird, since I wasn’t one for social gatherings, but I was really looking forward to Marilouise’s birthday outing. It was going to be fun. Savanna said the only way it would be fun was if Marilouise stayed home. “Marilouise could make a Hollywood party seem like waiting in line at the airport,” said Savanna. I laughed. But I wasn’t going to let her bring down my enthusiasm. It was the girls-going-out-together part that really appealed to me – away from school and any mention of Morgan Scheck and stuff like that. It seemed pretty grown-up, almost like the girls’ nights out Savanna and I were going to have when we had our own apartment.
The birthday dinner was on Saturday night. Which meant I had to leave Neighbours right after the class ended so I’d have enough time to get home, shower, get dressed and then walk over to Savanna’s. It would have made more sense for her to come to my house, but I was worried that if I wasn’t there to hurry her up she’d never be ready in time.
Cooper walked me home anyway. “I still remember Marilouise’s sixth birthday party when her dog ate the cake,” said Cooper. “It was a truly memorable event.”
Savanna was still in the bath when I got to the Zindles’ house. “For God’s sake, Savanna, you’ve been in there for hours.” Zelda screamed from downstairs. “Anyone would think you must’ve drowned by now.” She smiled sourly. Smiling sourly was Zelda’s speciality. “Go on up, Gracie. Maybe you can get her to move her butt. She never listens to me.”
Half an hour later, I was sitting in Savanna’s armchair, wearing my special-occasions black skirt and my
favourite top (gauzy and stretchy and patterned to look like lizard skin) and with my hair spiked up, idly flicking through one of her magazines (the educational kind that tell you how to figure out what your most flattering colour is and how you know if a boy really likes you), still waiting for Savanna.
At least she was out of the bathroom. She was in the doorway, bellowing to her mother downstairs. “No, it’s a dress – it’s grey and red and blue and white… Yeah, it’s short, Mom, but it’s a dress – not a top, not a skirt, not a kilt, a dress! You, like, wear it with leggings or tight jeans or whatever…” She leaned back into the room, sighing and rolling her eyes. “God help me…” she muttered. “How can I be related to a woman who flunked Fashion 101?” Her head went back out of the door. “But I, like, put it in the hamper weeks ago. How is it possible that you haven’t even washed it yet?”
I stared down at a picture of a girl who didn’t look like she ever had bed-head or got zits. She was wearing this flowery, flowy kind of dress. Really feminine in a romantic, meet-me-on-the-cliff-top-in-a-thunderstorm kind of way. I was trying to picture the dress on me. It didn’t look feminine or romantic. It looked like a little kid dressing up in her mother’s clothes. Ready to trip over the hem and fall right over the cliff if she so much as took one step.
“But I wanted to wear it tonight…” wailed Savanna. “Well, excuse me for breathing, but I don’t want to wear something else. I had it all planned. I was going to wear it with my grey silk pants. Nothing else really goes with them.” Savanna slammed the door shut. “I swear, sometimes I think she does it on purpose!”
I looked up.
“What about all the stuff you’ve got on the bed?” Which would be the dozens of things she’d pulled out of her closet and drawers when she was looking for the short, grey, red, blue and white dress. Which explains why I was sitting in the chair.
Savanna sighed. “But it’s all so dull and regular… I wanted something, like, really kapowy.”
“I thought you didn’t care about tonight. I thought you said it was like going out with your parents.” Only without any major fights.
“Ohmigod!” Savanna put her hand to her mouth, her eyes peering over her fingers like two full moons. “I was sure I told you. Oh, I am such a flake. Didn’t I tell you? How could I forget to tell you?”
I believe in being positive, but sometimes it takes a really gigantic effort. I dropped the magazine back on top of the pile on the floor. I had the same sort of bad feeling I got when I heard about another melting glacier. “Tell me what?”
She started rummaging through the clothes on her bed. “I can’t go to Anzalone’s with you guys after all. Something came up at the last minute.”
“What do you mean, something came up?” I unlooped my legs from the arm of the chair and sat straighter. This was the last minute. “We’re meeting Marilouise in less than an hour.”
“I’m not.” Savanna was shaking her head. Disappointedly. I couldn’t tell if the disappointment was because of Marilouise or because her mother was a better realtor than she was a laundry lady. “I mean, I’m really sorry, Gracie, you know I am. I mean, I’m, like, really devastated, but I just can’t go to Marilouise’s dinner thing tonight after all. I was sure I told you.”
And when would that have been? I’d been at Neighbours all afternoon.
“I don’t know… I thought I told you when you got here.”
“You were in the bath when I got here.”
Savanna sighed. “I’m reallyreally sorry, Gracie.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “I guess it just slipped my mind.”
“It slipped your mind?” What had she been doing all day, patching up the hole in the ozone layer?
Savanna twisted a stray strand of hair. “Well, if you’d hung out with me instead of doing good deeds, Gracie, you would’ve been with me when all this came up, wouldn’t you, and then I wouldn’t’ve forgotten to mention it?”
“When what came up?” As if I couldn’t guess.
“Morgan finally called! Isn’t that great?” Savanna wasn’t looking disappointed now. “And guess what? He’s taking me out for dinner!” If she smiled any more, her teeth would fall out.
“But you’re already going out for dinner.”
“Yeah, I know, but—” Savanna sighed “—only now I’m not, am I? Now I’m going out with Morgan.”
You’d have thought that one of her magazines might have had something to say about dumping your friends because some boy asked you out at the last minute.
“Savanna, you can’t just change your plans because Morgan suddenly decided he can see you. That’s not right.”
“It’s not like that, Gracie.” She tossed a couple of tops aside. “It wasn’t sudden. He always wanted to see me tonight, he just didn’t know if he could.”
“Why, because the UN special meeting might go on longer than he’d thought?”
“You’re not funny. You know how busy he is.”
“Oh, Savanna… It’s Marilouise’s birthday, remember? She’s been planning it for weeks.”
Savanna groaned. “As if I didn’t know. It’s practically all she ever talks about.”
“I don’t know why you ever said you’d go. All you’ve done is complain about it right from the start.”
Savanna pouted. “You think I’m a lousy person.”
“No, I don’t. I j
ust think—”
“You’re disappointed in me. You think I’m a crappy friend.”
“I didn’t say that, Sav. You’re a great friend.” She was always trying to boost my morale. Telling me I was cute and funny and not as short as I thought. Last year, when I’d been teased a lot for being small or a vegetarian or a brainbox, she’d always stood up for me. And I knew that if I were in trouble she would help me out. When I was home with the flu for two weeks in the spring, she’d come over every afternoon to bring me my homework. “I just think that if you tell someone you’re going to their birthday dinner, then you should go. You know, unless something really major happens.” Like your house is hit by an asteroid.
“But something major has happened.” She looked like a little kid who can’t understand why its pet gerbil is lying on the floor of its cage with its feet in the air. I was starting to feel as if I was the one who was being unreasonable. “Morgan can see me tonight. I mean, you know what his schedule’s like. Who knows how long it’ll be before I see him again if I don’t go tonight?”
“It’ll be a year before Marilouise has another birthday.”
“Gee, really?” Savanna widened her eyes. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, come on, Savanna. You know what I mean. You’ll have a date with Morgan a lot sooner than Marilouise gets to put another candle on her cake. This is an important night for her.”
Her whole body shrugged. “But it’s an important night for me, too. I’ve been waiting, like, days for this.” She stuck out her lower lip. “I don’t know why you’re being so hard on me, Gracie. I mean, what would you do if you had to choose between a date with this totally awesome guy at some sophisticated restaurant and a bowl of spaghetti with Marilouise Lapinskye at a place where they sell pizzas in the foyer?”
“You already bought her a present.”
Savannah smiled. “Well, you can give it to her, can’t you? That way, she’ll know I really was going to come, and she won’t feel so bad.”
Part of me felt like saying, Give it to her yourself, but it wasn’t the dominant part of me. The dominant part of me knew that arguing with Savanna when her mind was made up was like thinking you could stop climate change by only using your car six days a week instead of seven. Pretty pointless. So I said, “What excuse did you give Marilouise for not going?”
Savanna held up a long black skirt and a metallic-pink top. “What do you think?” She shook the top so it shimmered. “Or maybe this with the silk trousers and my red mini-skirt?”
Maybe I wasn’t the only one who knew how to avoid answering a question. I was sitting up so straight by now that I was practically rigid. “Savanna, what did you tell Marilouise?”
“I haven’t told her anything.” Savanna was still studying the top, her head on one side.
“What do you mean, you haven’t told her anything?”
Now she was looking at me, but not what you’d call right in the eyes. More like right near the side of my head. “I kind of thought that maybe you could tell her.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, Gracie… You’re, like, so much more diplomatic and kind than I am. You know you are.” She gave me one of her three-year-old smiles. “And she doesn’t know you as well as she knows me. She won’t get mad at you.”
“Oh, no you don’t…” I was shaking my head. Very firmly. “This isn’t my problem. There is no way I’m breaking this news to her. You’re the one who’s—” I hesitated, searching for the right words. Letting Marilouise down? Lying to her? Jacking her dinner for something better? “Not coming. You should be the one who tells her.” And the one who apologizes. Abjectly.
Savanna moaned. “But you know I hate to be criticized, Gray.”
“That’s ridiculous. The most judgemental thing I’ve ever heard Marilouise say was that she doesn’t like peanuts.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Marilouise is the worst. I mean, she doesn’t shout and tell you what a jerk you are like a regular person. She just makes you feel like you stepped on the last butterfly or something.”
“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?” Maybe next time she’d look where she was going.
“But I can’t tell her, Gray.” Savanna dropped the skirt and the top back on the bed. “I mean, how can I tell her when I’m so sick I can’t even pick up the phone?”
“Oh, Savanna… That is really feeble.” You’d think that, with all the lying she did, she’d be better at it. “Marilouise isn’t stupid. She’ll see right through that.”
“Not if you’re convincing.”
“Savanna—”
She sighed. “Well, can you think of a better excuse? I mean, like, be reasonable, Gracie. There isn’t time for anything more complicated. Sudden, paralytic illness is
the only possible reason I could come up with at such short notice.” She put her hands together. Pleading.
“Please, Gracie. Don’t let me down. I’m counting on you.”
“Savanna, you can’t count on me. I mean, you can count on me, obviously you can count on me – you’re
my best friend – but not for this. I really don’t like lying.”
She shrugged. Philosophically. “And who does?”
I could think of one person who didn’t seem to have a lot of trouble with it.
“I mean it, Savanna. I tried to tell you the other day. I was really uncomfortable with that whole thing about telling Archie we went to see my dad in a play.”
“You were? Why?”
Why did she think? Because my bra was too tight?
“Because I had to lie.”
“And I told you I was sorry about that, Gracie. I mean, Archie surprised me just as much as he surprised you. I don’t see how that gets to be my fault. I mean, I can’t control what comes out of his mouth, can I?”
“That’s not what I mean, Savanna. All I’m saying is that I didn’t like lying to him. But this is even worse.”
She looked at me. Curiously. Inquisitively. A naturalist discovering a new species of iguana. “How come?”
“Because it’s Marilouise’s birthday, that’s how come. And she’s been looking forward to it.” I did some more head-shaking. “I really don’t think I can lie to her like that. I’ll feel like a total creep.”
“But you’re not being a creep. You’re being a loyal friend. You’re the loyalest friend anyone could ever have. That’s why I love you.”
“Savanna—”
“I don’t mean a loyal friend just to me, Gracie. I mean to Marilouise, too.” Now she was looking me right in the eyes. “I mean, what are you planning to do? Tell her what’s really going on? Be honest with yourself here, Gracie. How do you think poor Marilouise’ll feel if she finds out I skipped her birthday because I’d rather go out with Morgan? You think that’s going to boost her self-esteem? You think that’s going to cheer her up a whole lot?”
Probably not. Probably it would make her feel like a small piece of dog poo on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
“See? That’s, like, exactly what I mean,” said Savanna. “So you wouldn’t be doing her any favours, would you? You’d be making things way worse.”
I wasn’t sure about way worse, but I could see that I wouldn’t be making things way better.
“Well…”
“I knew you’d help me!” She ran over and threw her arms around me. Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Gracie.” She squeezed me so hard I gasped. “I’ll call you the minute I get home.”
Oh, good. At least I still had something to look forward to.
Chapter Eleven
Eggplant and Angst
Mrs Zindle gave us a ride as far as the bridge. I’m sure Zelda and Savanna were bickering most of the way because bickering was pretty much their default mode, but I don’t really remember the drive. I was pretty preoccupied with swamping myself with guilt about Marilouise. Marilouise had never been anything but really nice to me. Even when Savanna started being best friends with me instead of her, Marilouise n
ever got snappy or snarly the way a lot of people would have. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to explain to Marilouise how Savanna was practically on death’s front lawn. How could I possibly face her? The way I felt, if I looked her in those clear blue eyes, I was liable to blurt out the truth and beg for mercy.
Savanna was almost out of the car before it stopped, but I climbed out slowly. I felt like I was about to shoot the last silverback gorilla.
“Wish Marilouise a happy birthday for me!” ordered Mrs Zindle.
Savanna said we would. Mrs Zindle waved as she drove off. Savanna waved back. The Zindles’ gas guzzler passed the lawn decorated with dozens of smiling
garden gnomes and disappeared around a bend. Oh,
how I wished I was in it.
“Right, I have to go.” Savanna turned and gave me a hug. “Kisskiss, byebye. Don’t forget to tell Marilouise how really sorry I am.” She thrust her present into my hands. “Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I’m feeling better.”
Horns honked as Savanna dashed across the street.
My excitement about the evening was as gone as the Mohicans. I’d rather have been digging potatoes. I’d rather potatoes had been digging me. So instead of going right into the restaurant, I hung around in the parking lot for a while. Postponing the inevitable. Psyching myself up. Marilouise, you’ll never guess what happened… Marilouise, it’s just totally awful… Marilouise, Savanna is sooo sorry… Well, what’s good here besides the eggplant parmigiana? Eventually, some guy stuck his head out the kitchen door and asked me what I was doing. I went inside.
Anzalone’s was always busy on a Saturday night, but that night it was packed tighter than a battery barn. The first thing I saw after I pushed past the mob of people by the register waiting to pick up their pizzas was a cloud of silver star balloons, swaying over a table at the back. Everyone at the table was wearing a sparkly, paper hat. Balloons … paper hats … Happy Birthday, Marilouise! The icy hand that had been squeezing my stomach relaxed its grip a little. This wasn’t what I was expecting. This was a real party, after all. Which was good news. Marilouise wasn’t going to be all torn up by one less guest the way she would have been when there were only two altogether. Savanna wasn’t really going to be missed. Marilouise might not even notice that she wasn’t there. I hovered on the edge of the dining room for a couple of minutes. Maybe I could sneak back out, go home and leave Marilouise a message on her phone that Savanna and I were both sick. Victims of a small, localized epidemic. And then a couple of sub-zero fingers started squeezing me again. Who were all those people? Did any of them look even vaguely familiar? Why hadn’t Marilouise told me she’d invited them too?