by Lois Duncan
“That’s rough,” Niles said. “That’s really rough.”
“Why did he do it? Why would he hurt me like this? How can one person do something like this to another person, when they’re supposed to care about each other?”
“Maybe,” Niles said, “he thought it would hurt you more if he told you…” He let the sentence drift, unfinished.
“Told me what?” Laura brought her face up out of the sweatshirt. “What is it he didn’t want to tell me?”
“Look, Laura, Pete’s my brother. I may not approve of everything he does, but at the same time—”
“Tell me, Niles! You have to! Where is Pete now? Why didn’t he come tonight?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Niles, please!”
“He’s—at the dance.”
“At the dance?” She couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly. “But why would he go alone to a dance when we could go together?”
“He didn’t go alone,” Niles said.
“You mean that he—”
“I mean, he took Madison. They got back together early this week, and he’s been out with her every night since. They just weren’t telling anybody yet. They wanted to get everything worked out between them first.”
“But he said he hated her,” Laura whispered. “He said he never wanted to see her again.”
“So he changed his mind.” Niles brushed her cheek with his lips. “Hey, now, baby, don’t look like that. It’s not the end of the world. So Pete’s going out with some girl. There are lots of guys who aren’t. Like me, for instance. I know how to keep a chick from being lonely. Just relax, and I’ll show you that brother Peter isn’t the only one who knows how to keep you warm.”
“No. Stop. Don’t do that.” Laura stiffened as his arms came tight around her.
“Stop playing games, Laura.” There was a note of irritation in Niles’s voice. “Pete’s told me about all the things you let him do to you when you go parking down by the creek.”
“I don’t believe you. Pete wouldn’t talk about—”
The words were lost as his mouth closed over hers, and she twisted helplessly as he leaned against her, forcing her backward under the weight of his body. He was shorter than Peter, but stronger. His arms were locked around her, pinning her own arms at her sides, as his hands began to fumble impatiently with the zipper at the back of her dress. His mouth kept working at hers; she felt his tongue, wet and slimy, probing at her sealed lips.
In desperation, she did what seemed the only thing possible. She bit him.
He sprung back so suddenly that they both rolled off the sofa onto the floor. Laura felt a sharp jab of pain as her left shoulder hit the corner of the coffee table. She pulled herself to a sitting position, tugging frantically at her skirt, which had become twisted around the upper part of her thighs.
Niles’s face was white with rage, and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.
“Bitch!” he said hoarsely. “You freaking bitch! You took half my tongue off!”
“I’m sorry.” She meant it. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. The taste of his blood in her own mouth made her nauseated.
“You’re sorry, all right! The sorriest mess I’ve ever seen! You thought Pete was going to take you out in public and dance with you? He’d die first. And so would I. So would anybody.”
“That’s not true. Peter and I have been dating for weeks now.”
“The word isn’t ‘dating,’ it’s ‘screwing.’ With his eyes closed. Why else would any guy in his right mind spend time with a whale?” Niles leaned toward her, enunciating each word carefully. “Pete was using you. Get used to the idea, because that’s all any guy is ever going to do with you. You might as well take what you can get, because it’s all you’re going to get. You get all high-and-mighty like you just did with me, and you’re going to wind up without anything at all.”
“Get out!” Laura whispered. “Get out of my house!”
“With pleasure!”
When he was gone Laura got up off the floor and went over to the front door and locked it. Then she went upstairs and took off the blue dress. She stood staring at it for a long moment; then she wadded it into a ball and stuffed it into the back of her closet. She took off the pumps and threw them in after it.
Then she went into her mother’s bedroom and opened the bottle of sleeping pills she kept on her bedside table. She didn’t bother to count them. She took them all.
The dance was over at midnight.
Holly Underwood arrived home at 12:14 a.m. Her date, Steve Penrose, walked her to her door. This had been their first date, and neither one had particularly enjoyed it. They said a polite good night, keeping a careful distance between them. Holly went into the house, and Steve went back to his car.
Irene Stark dropped Kelly Johnson at her home at 12:20 a.m. and then drove several blocks farther to let off Erika Schneider and Paula Brummell. Erika was spending the night at Paula’s.
Tammy Carncross and Kevin Baker went to the coffee shop before calling it a night.
Tammy’s parents pulled into their driveway at 12:23 a.m.
“That was quite an evening,” Mrs. Carncross commented.
“You can say that again,” her husband said. “Did you see the look on Ferrara’s face when Paula dropped her bombshell?”
“How could I miss it?! Do you think they’ll really do it—use the money for a girls’ soccer team?”
“Not if they can help it. Ferrara has his heart set on those warm-up suits.”
“Mr. Shelby was laughing.”
“He probably thought it was a joke.”
“There’s nothing wrong with starting a soccer team,” Lil Carncross said. “It’s a popular girls’ sport in lots of towns.”
“I can’t imagine the school organizing a soccer team for the girls when the boys don’t even have one yet.” Mr. Carncross opened the car door. “Hey, does that dancing we saw tonight remind you of disco?”
“Nothing can replace disco,” Mrs. Carncross said. “It was also sort of nice dancing cheek to cheek.”
Peter Grange took Madison Ellis home at 12:30 a.m. They took a long time saying good night.
At about the same time, David Brewer and Ann Whitten were parked in the Whittens’ driveway. The porch light, which Mrs. Whitten had left on for them, illuminated the porch steps and a strip of lawn, but stopped short of the front of Dave’s pickup truck. In the darkened interior of the cab they sat close together with their arms around each other.
“I felt kind of funny tonight,” Dave said. “A graduated guy at a high-school dance.”
“It was fun, though, wasn’t it?” Ann asked.
“It was fun because you were having fun. It’s just that when I’m around a bunch of your school friends like that, I realize I’m robbing the cradle. They all seem like such kids.”
“You’re not that much of an old man,” Ann said. “It’s only been three years since you were in high school yourself.”
“It’s been a long three years. Tonight, looking around at those boys—Tammy’s boyfriend with the red hair, and the guy Peter, that Madison goes with—I felt like they were living in a whole different world. They’re thinking about partying, sports, scouting out each other’s girlfriends; I’m thinking about the farm, getting the leak in the barn roof fixed before the first snow, getting married.”
“You’re not happy, are you, about my going to art school?” Ann asked him softly.
“I think it’s what you’ve got to do. If you don’t, you’ll always feel like you missed out on something.”
“That’s what I feel,” Ann said. “It’s like it was meant to be, the way it fell out of the sky right into my lap like that.”
“That’s not how it happened,” Dave said. “Your teacher friend arranged it.”
“Well, still—”
“She knew what she was doing. She knew we were engaged, the wedding date was set, everything was planned. Not
hing ‘fell into your lap,’ Annie. A lot of strings were pulled.”
“You sound as though Irene did something mean and sneaky,” Ann said in astonishment. “That she was trying to hurt us instead of help us.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dave said. “It’s just hard to like somebody when you know they don’t like you.”
“Irene likes you!”
“No, she doesn’t. When you introduced us tonight, I could feel the vibes coming out of her like cold air from a freezer. There’s a lot of bitterness in that woman, and I don’t like the idea that you’re around her so much.”
“You’re wrong,” Ann said. “Irene’s the warmest, most understanding person in the world. She wants me to get this training because she thinks I have real talent. She takes my painting seriously.”
“So do I. I told you, I’d make you a little studio room to paint in.”
“But you think of it as a hobby, not as a career.”
“I think of it as something you need to do to be happy,” Dave told her. “If you mean by a ‘career’ that I expect you to sell paintings and make money to pay the expenses around the place, then you’re right, I don’t think of it that way. That’s my job. If I couldn’t support us, I wouldn’t get married.”
“That’s an old-fashioned point of view,” Ann said.
“And I’m an old-fashioned guy. What do you want me to do? I’m letting you go off to Boston. I’m going to sit here and wait for you. What more do you want?”
“But you want me to feel guilty, like you’re doing me a big favor!”
“I’ve never tried to make you feel like that. It’s just”—his voice grew husky—“it’s just that I’m going to miss you.”
“Oh, Dave, I’ll miss you, too.” She turned and pressed her face against his shoulder. “I’m so confused that sometimes I’m not sure how I feel about everything myself. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I love you, too, my gentle Annie,” Dave said quietly. “I know that things are different now than they used to be when my dad and mom were married. I know girls want different things now, and I guess that’s how it should be. It’s just that I’ve grown up a certain way. I can’t change the whole way I think and feel about things like that overnight. I’m trying. That’s the best I can do. I’m trying.”
Jane Rheardon hadn’t gone to the dance. She went to bed early, and then, as she often did, woke around midnight. At 12:32 a.m. she was lying in bed, reading.
She heard the siren when it was still a long way off and got up and went to the window. All the houses along the street were dark.
Somewhere, someone is hurt, she thought. In a car accident, or a fire. But that person isn’t Mom.
It had been a pleasant Saturday. Her father had left the night before to go hunting in the northern part of the state. She and her mother had gone shopping for material and then had spent most of the day sewing. Jane was trying to make her own dress for the first time ever—her mom made it look so easy—and that night they had gone to Brummell’s Café for dinner. Her mom had been chatty, giggly, like a young girl. They had ordered fried chicken, and for dessert they had both had chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and nuts piled on top.
Her mom was sleeping now, safe and alone in the queen-size bed in the next room. The sirens were not for her.
Kristy Grange heard the siren when she stood on the porch steps, kissing Tom Brummell good night. She stiffened, turning her head to listen.
“A fire engine?” she said.
“Or an ambulance. It’s close, isn’t it? It sounds as though it’s only a couple of blocks away.”
“I hate sirens,” Kristy said with a shudder. “They freak me out.”
On his way home, Tom passed the ambulance. It was parked with its lights flashing in front of the Snow house.
Chapter 13
At breakfast the next morning, Tom told his sister and her overnight houseguest about the ambulance.
“It was on Locust, just a block or so from the Granges’. That white house with the little fence around it.”
“Not the one with the oak tree in the side yard?”
“That’s it,” Tom said. “Do you know who lives there?”
“Laura Snow. I’ve picked her up a couple of times to go out to the nursing home.” Paula turned to Erika worriedly. “Something bad must’ve happened. Do you think we should call?”
“Yes, definitely,” Erika said. “You know, she’s all alone there except for her mom. If Mrs. Snow’s had a heart attack or something, Laura’s going to need us.”
“Should I call her cell or the hospital?” Paula asked, getting up from the table.
“The house.”
The phone was answered on the first ring. The conversation was short.
When Paula returned to the table, she looked more worried than ever.
“It’s Laura, not her mom,” she said. “One of their neighbors is over there and answered the phone. She wouldn’t tell me anything except that the ‘crisis is over,’ but Laura’s going to be in the hospital for a few days. Mrs. Snow was there with her most of the night, but she’s home now, sleeping.”
“She didn’t say what happened?” Erika asked. “Was it her appendix or something like that?”
“She wouldn’t say. In fact, when I asked her, she basically hung up on me. Should I try the hospital?”
“Tell them you’re her sister,” Erika advised. “You might be able to learn more that way.”
This second call provided no more information than the first. Laura Snow was, indeed, a patient at Modesta Hospital. She was “in fair condition” and “resting comfortably.” There was no phone in her room, and she wasn’t allowed to have visitors.
By noon all the members of Daughters of Eve had been given the news, and Erika had called Irene Stark.
“Can you find out what happened?” she asked her. “They’ll talk to you. You’re her teacher.”
“I’ll try,” Irene said. “I’ve never met Mrs. Snow, though, and I don’t know that my name will mean anything to her.”
“She didn’t show up at the dance,” Erika said. “From something she said, I thought she was going to come.”
There was a pause. Then Irene asked slowly, “With a date?”
“I don’t think so. Laura doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I think she does,” Irene said.
“You’re kidding! I’ve never seen her with anybody. That kind of news gets around fast. Modesta High is one big gossip factory.”
“Think carefully,” Irene said. “What was it she said that made you think she would be at the dance last night?”
“I don’t remember. Oh—wait—yes, I do! She was telling somebody, maybe it was Holly, that her mom had bought her a dress. It was a little tight, but she thought she would fit in it by homecoming. She was on a diet; I know, because she and Paula and I share the same lunch period. Laura used to eat with us, but recently she hasn’t even been coming into the cafeteria. She said watching us eat made her too hungry.”
“I’ll call Mrs. Snow tonight,” Irene told her. “Meanwhile, I think it would be best not to make too much of this. I wish you’d tell the girls not to talk about it at school tomorrow.”
“But when Laura is absent, won’t people be curious?”
“I don’t see why. Students are absent all the time. Whatever the reason for Laura’s hospitalization, it’s obvious her mother would prefer to keep it quiet. So until we know more about this, let’s keep it between us. All right?”
“All right,” Erika agreed readily. “But you will tell the Daughters of Eve, won’t you? That is, if you find out anything?”
“Of course,” Irene said. “You’re her sisters.”
The November 13 meeting of the Modesta chapter of Daughters of Eve was called to order by Erika. The pledge was repeated.
Ann Whitten read the minutes from the previous meeting:
“Irene Stark brought up the possibility of
making a special designation as to how the money collected through the raffle will be used. After much discussion, Paula Brummell moved that the money be spent to start a girls’ soccer team. Jane Rheardon seconded the motion, which was passed unanimously.”
“It shook up a few people, too,” Kelly Johnson commented wryly.
“A few people!” Holly Underwood exclaimed. “That’s the understatement of the century! You should’ve heard Steve on the way home from the dance! He was so mad he could hardly talk. You know, he’s on the basketball team, and they’d been counting on those warm-up suits.”
“My dad doesn’t think Mr. Shelby will go along with us,” Tammy said. “Dad thinks he’s taking it as a kind of joke.”
“He has to go along with us if he endorses the check,” Paula said. “We have it printed right there on the back. When he signs his name, that’s his agreement.”
“Please, everybody, I think this comes under the heading of ‘old business,’ ” Erika broke in. “Let’s do things in order. Are there any additions or corrections to Ann’s minutes? No? Then they stand approved as read. Madison, could we have the treasurer’s report?”
“We took in five hundred and fifty dollars through dance admissions. Materials for decorating the gym were one hundred and twenty-three dollars; drinks were donated; and the DJ—meaning Brad Tully and his laptop—cost one hundred dollars. After writing a check for the girls’ soccer team, that gives us a personal balance of three hundred forty-seven dollars, even before we collect December dues. In other words, we’re rich,” Madison announced with satisfaction. “Let’s have a party.”
“We just had a dance. That should last us awhile,” Holly said. “I think we ought to order some flowers to be sent to Laura in the hospital.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” Tammy said. “Do we know how long she’s going to be there? Has anybody heard anything?”
“Irene was going to try to find out for us,” Erika said.
“I talked to Mrs. Snow last night.” Irene was silent for a moment. Then she said, “I saw Laura this morning.”
“I thought she wasn’t supposed to have visitors,” Paula said in surprise.