Gideon let out a big breath. "You scared me there for a minute. Want some ice cream?"
"We're going to be eating a lot of ice cream this year, aren't we?"
He kissed my hand in a kind of dorky, kind of charming way. "I fear so, my lady."
Megan found a parking spot near the Silver Queen Hotel. We wandered inside to look at the huge portrait of the lady with the gown made from real silver dollars.
"How many school clothes do you think you could buy with all those silver dollars?" Hannah asked as we gazed at the sparkling coins.
"Almost as many as Ashley Winters will wear the first month of school," Megan said.
Afterward, we toured the Mackay Mansion, Piper's Opera House, the schoolhouse, and the old church, at Hannah's insistence. She loved the fact that it had survived the great fire that had destroyed most of the town in 1875. I liked the fact that they had completely rebuilt the rest of the town within eighteen months—it reminded me of how all of us can recover from the bad things that happen.
Everywhere we went, Megan soaked up the information about Mark Twain's time as a reporter in Virginia City while Hannah went on and on about the spirit of the old objects.
Sample conversation:
"What do you think they made for the last meal cooked in this kitchen?" Hannah asked. "What did the person who last slept in this bed dream?"
"How did the last bowel movement taken in that chamber pot smell?" Megan asked.
"How did it feel to scrub that floor for the last time?" I asked.
Hannah scoffed. "You two have no sense of history."
I paid a lot of attention to the jewelry the women wore in the old photographs. Wouldn't it be fun to re-create period jewelry? In the Mackay Mansion, one woman wore a choker that was kind of like the one I'd just finished, except hers had a jeweled cross on the end and mine had a heart-shaped bead.
"Your choker sort of looks like that." Megan stood next to me. "Is it antique?"
I had hoped one of them would notice my necklace. "No, I made it."
"You did? It looks, like, totally professional." Hannah put her fingers on my neck. "Can you make something for me?"
I thought of the multistranded button necklace I'd designed for Hannah. "I'm working on something for you."
"And me?"
"I have something very classic planned."
"Black?" Megan flipped her hair up and looked at me.
"Of course." I smiled, thinking that finally I had something unique about me. An actual skill! "I'm also making a charm bracelet for Katie to send along with my check for the van—hopefully, it will smooth things over a bit." I made a face.
Megan sighed. "We weren't exactly superlative summer employees, were we?"
"I think I'll go down as the worst delivery driver in history."
"What about me?" Megan shook her head, speechless. Hannah wrapped her arms around our shoulders.
"Well, I still think you guys are the best."
Megan and I rolled our eyes and started laughing.
We popped into various gift shops as we walked down the old-fashioned wooden sidewalks toward the photo place. The air ahead of us smelled sweet with fudge. It reminded me of the sweet, sugary smell at Katie's, but with a more pleasing chocolate aroma. Tourists gathered outside the corral for the fake gunfight. Megan gawked at the cute cowboy guy selling tickets.
"You should've seen the real cowboys—I mean, cowmen—at the Rodeo Carnival," I said.
"Trust me. I know."
"Friends come before boys," Hannah said, as if she hadn't been spending all her time with José.
"Hello? I'm the only one without a boyfriend." Megan made an exaggerated pouty face. "That reminds me. I need fudge. Or maybe ice cream."
I smiled to myself, thinking, Gideon, boyfriend, my boyfriend, Gideon.
"It is super hot," Hannah said. "I don't think I'll wear my new sweater on Monday."
"Only freshmen wear their new clothes," I said. "We're seniors. We know better." I had actually started looking forward to school: going out to lunch with Gideon, stopping by Gideon's locker, maybe even releasing all the PE volleyballs back into nature...
The fan whirring in the sweetshop cooled us a bit as we looked around. Hannah and Megan pored over the ice cream flavors while I looked at the fudge. I'd been eating a lot of ice cream lately; the thought of eating it without Gideon and his chocolate jokes made me feel a little lonely for him.
"I've been meaning to tell you that I love those earrings," Megan said as we paid for the ice cream and fudge.
"Me too." Hannah swung one of the little hearts with her finger. "Did you make them to match your necklace?"
"Not exactly." I blushed. "Gideon made them for me."
"He makes jewelry? Isn't that a little—" Hannah scrunched up her tiny nose.
"Suspicious, if you catch my drift." Megan frowned.
Not again. Why couldn't they leave Gideon and me alone? So what if he wasn't on the approved-potential-boyfriend list? He liked me; he cared about me; he made me feel good—about myself. "Trust me. It means he's good with his hands, if you catch my drift." I raised my eyebrows and attempted the Look.
"Jory! That's so not like you." Hannah giggled. "So bold."
"Yeah, Junior Jory could never have pulled off a look like that." Megan handed me my bag of fudge. I'd bought extra for Gideon. Vanilla.
"Next thing we know you'll be selling your jewelry on late night TV like that old soap star." Megan launched into a sales pitch, using a nasally voice and exaggerated hand gestures that bordered on the obscene.
I started laughing so hard that I dribbled chocolaty fudge spit down my shirt. My white shirt.
"Ah, now that's the Jory I remember," Megan said. "Patented neatness issues." Megan took a delicate bite out of her waffle cone. "Maybe I should do your TV spots."
"You're gorgeous enough." I didn't usually compliment my friends, but it felt good.
"I am not." Megan swatted my knee with her hand.
"You know you are," Hannah and I said together.
"Well, maybe." Megan vamped up and down the wooden sidewalk, finishing her cone. "But I'd rather sell shoes, if I'll get an employee discount. Or maybe textbooks. Do you know how much college textbooks cost?" Hannah and I reminded Megan that we still had a year of high school left.
"I know," Megan said. "And I promise to enjoy it. Ninety-five percent of the time. Maybe only eighty-five percent of the time."
"Come on, Meg. We're going to have a great year. Go, Huskies!" I moved my hands like pompoms.
That got Hannah started on a discussion about whether she should sit on the Wooster or Reno side during the first football game. Will I be a traitor? Should I wear red and white, but not blue? People will see me with José afterward anyway.
Megan and I exchanged looks as Hannah debated herself. Finally, Megan held up her watch in front of Hannah's face.
"Oh, no! We're supposed to be at the photo shop—and I still have to brush my teeth!" Megan and I rolled our eyes, but Hannah simply hooked her arms through ours and we walked down the street side by side, giggling like crazy while tourists stared at us.
Hannah drove the photographer nuts trying to decide between proper Victorian lady or lady of the evening. She tried on a long, old-timey dress with a fancy bonnet, then a teddy with a bustier, then the old-timey dress again.
"What's right for the moment? This exact moment?" she fretted.
I went with the teddy and fishnets. So did Megan.
"People are going to have their yearbooks for years," Megan said. "Plus my mom has always told me to appreciate my youthful body."
"My mom said the same thing." I gasped. "She was all, Go for it, Jory. Enjoy being young with all your possibilities ahead. Eating actual meals has sure changed that woman!"
"I don't think she meant for you to look like a hooker, though," Hannah said.
"Soiled Dove, thank you very much." I liked the thought of Gideon seeing this photo—he'd end up eating
cartons of ice cream!
"Come on, guys." Hannah waved a Little Bo Peep staff at us. "Isn't this sweet?"
"Well, I'm certainly not going to herd sheep." I pushed up my boobs. "I'm herding men," I said in a low, sexy voice.
Megan burst out laughing. Hannah blushed. We finally convinced Hannah to wear a slinky red nightie after assuring her that José wouldn't get the wrong idea even though it was Wooster colors, and besides the yearbook doesn't come out until June and we're sure your future husband won't mind, and, of course, you can hide it from your future kids.
The photographer arranged us with guns, cards, cash, and fake bottles of booze. I sat on the bar with one leg dangling over the other, a spiky shoe hanging off my front toes. Megan stood sideways to my right, glancing over her shoulder, her long hair draped around her. Hannah insisted on leaning behind the bar to my left, for modesty reasons. I don't think she had any idea what that did for her ample cleavage. The photographer put a frilly showgirl headdress on her and stepped over to the camera.
"Ready? One, two, three."
I looked straight into the camera and smiled.
* * *
A SPECIAL DELIVERY OF THANKS
Big bouquets to my agent, Ted Malawer, and to my editor, Julie Tibbott.
Warm pie and coffee to my writing group, especially Kelley and Susan.
Dozens and dozens of cupcakes to my dad, David, stepmom, Stephanie, brother, Ethan, and sister-in-law, Colleen, with extra sprinkles to my daughters, Emma and Sophie.
A tiered wedding cake to my husband, Mike. Thanks for always believing.
And finally, a charm bracelet to my mom, Rondi, who always burns the cookies but provides endless inspiration and source material.
SYDNEY SALTER held a variety of jobs before becoming a full-time writer, including a brief stint delivering pies and flowers, wrecking vans, and destroying wedding cakes in Reno, Nevada. Sydney now lives in Utah with her husband, two daughters, two cats, and two big Bernese Mountain dogs. She loves reading, writing, traveling, and, of course, baking and decorating cakes (but not driving them anywhere).
www.sydneysalter.com
www.mybignose.blogspot.com
My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters Page 22