Stacey's Lie, Page 2

  “You’ll see.” It was his turn to smile mysteriously. He took his wallet from his back pocket. “How would you like to go buy yourself a pretty, summery something to wear to dinner tonight? I’ll take you to the Lion’s Lair.” He handed me some bills.

  So much for pouting. I gave Dad a kiss and was out the door before he’d even turned on his computer. There are tons of small boutiques and clothing shops in his neighborhood, packed with styles that haven’t quite made it to Stoneybrook or Washington Mall yet. This was going to be fun.

  After an hour or so of looking around, I settled on this super cute flowing pants outfit in a sunflower print against a navy blue background. It had a high waist, cap sleeves, and a scoop neck, and the pants were long and full. I loved it. I had a few dollars left, so I stopped at the market on the corner and looked at all bright flowers sitting in buckets out front. I finally settled on four tall sunflowers. (I’m on sort of a sunflower kick these days.)

  Back upstairs, I heard a high whining sound, followed by several clicks, as I knocked on Dad’s door. “What’s that?” I asked, as he let me in.

  “It’s the sound of my fax machine, sending a ten-page report to a client in Washington D.C.”

  “Wow! And I thought overnight mail was fast,” I commented. I handed him the sunflowers. “An early Father’s Day gift.”

  “Thanks. Is Father’s Day soon?” Dad asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  I punched his arm playfully. “You know it’s Sunday.”

  Dad smiled and handed the flowers back to me. “Would you put these in water for me? I want to take a shower, and then we can go out to eat.” I found a vase under his sink and put the flowers into it. They looked great on the small round table in the corner of the apartment.

  By seven-thirty I was dressed in my new outfit and waiting for Dad. He was on the phone, talking to a client in California (It was only four-thirty out there.) “That’s the great thing about California,” Dad said as he hung up the phone. “You can call in the evening, and everybody’s still in the office. You can really stretch your work day that way.”

  Leave it to my dad to find a way to stretch his work day!

  Talking about California made me think of my good friend Dawn, who is in California now. She’s another BSC member. Like me, her parents are divorced. And like me, she’s with her father right now. (Dawn grew up in California; she and her mother came to Stoneybrook after the divorce.) Dawn says she’s just there to visit her dad and her brother, Jeff, who lives with her father. My friends and I are all worried that she might decide to stay there. Dawn has California in her blood, just the way I have New York City in mine.

  “Ready?” Dad asked at last.

  “Ready,” I replied, picking up my pocketbook. We went downstairs and out onto the dusky street. I love this time of day in the city, when the sun is setting. People are home from their jobs, and getting ready to go out again. The traffic is less heavy, and a kind of temporary quietness falls over everything. Quiet for the city, that is. There are still sirens in the background, the low rumble of the subway below ground, the occasional helicopter chop-chop-chopping above you. But somehow the volume seems a little lower. I think the sharp edges of the tall buildings even look softer.

  We walked up several blocks toward the Lion’s Lair, on 70th Street. “How are you and Robert doing these days?” Dad asked.

  “Great,” I said. “Only he’s going to be away most of the summer.” I decided not to go into any details. I didn’t want Dad to feel bad about my missing my last weekend with Robert.

  “That’s a shame,” said Dad. “But maybe it’s a good thing for you two to spend the summer apart.”

  My hands went to my hips. “Why?” I asked indignantly.

  “You’re both young. It’s not good to become too involved with one person at your age. Maybe this summer you’ll meet someone you like better than Robert.”

  “Better than Robert? No way!” I cried.

  Dad laughed. “Okay, okay. I guess it’s true love. I’m just an old dad and I don’t want to lose my girl to some guy named Robert. At least not so soon.”

  I took hold of his arm and leaned my head against it. “You’ll never lose me, Dad. That’s impossible.”

  By the time we got to the Lion’s Lair, it was nearly dark. Out front, they’d turned on all these tiny, twinkly white lights. We walked down the stone steps into the restaurant. A hostess in a great-looking red silk suit greeted us. “I made a reservation,” Dad told her. “Ed McGill.”

  “We opened our outdoor seating today,” the hostess told him. “Would you like to sit there or inside?”

  Dad looked at me. “Outside sounds great,” I said. We followed her through the restaurant, which was decorated with sculptures of lions and big stone lion heads that jutted out from the brick walls. She pushed open a sliding glass door and we stepped outside onto a patio. Right next to the patio was a huge rock ledge. All around and above us, apartment building windows were beginning to light up. The patio was like a little bit of country protected by the rock.

  When the waiter came, I ordered shrimp cocktail (which, for me, amounts to shrimp on ice, since I can’t eat the cocktail sauce) and broiled red snapper. Dad asked for raw oysters to start and steak au poivre (that’s French for “with peppercorns”) and handed the waiter back the menus.

  “Ready for my surprise?” Dad asked.

  “Sure,” I replied.

  “Remember that conference I told you about — the one scheduled for next week? Well, I was informed just today that I would not have to attend after all. As long as the client receives my report by Monday, she could present my study and conclusions at the conference. That’s why I was so determined to finish it today.”

  Was Dad expecting me to jump up and down? I mean, this wasn’t exactly a wonderful surprise. In fact, it meant I could have come to the city next weekend, after all, and not missed this last weekend with Robert.

  “That’s not the surprise,” Dad went on. “The surprise is this: I’ve decided to take a vacation for two weeks, starting next weekend. My appointment calendar is clear for that time period, since I thought I’d be at the conference. It’s a perfect time for me to take off. I’d like you to come with me, Stacey.”

  Now that was a surprise. “Awesome!” I cried. “Where are we going?”

  “You name it. Anywhere you want. I’m leaving it completely up to you. We could head out west, or go to the mountains for two weeks. How about Disney World? Or are you too old for that? Maybe Europe? What do you think?”

  This was astounding! My father, the workaholic, was actually going to take two whole weeks off? He had rarely taken that much time off. Sometimes my mother and I had gone away together and he’d joined us at the end of the week. Or we’d all take off together, and he’d leave early. “Are you sure you can handle two weeks off?” I asked.

  “No,” he said with a smile. “But I’m going to do it anyway. So, where are we going?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. This was a big decision. “Can I have until Sunday to think about it?”

  “Sure thing,” Dad agreed.

  “I guess I should call Mom and check with her,” I added.

  “Good idea,” Dad agreed. “But I bet it will be fine.”

  When my food came it tasted extra delicious. I wasn’t sure if it was the food or that I was feeling so happy.

  My happy mood continued through Saturday. It was another beautiful, warm day. Dad and I went to the Museum of Natural History, which I’ve always loved. We saw the new, expanded dinosaur exhibit, which was pretty cool, and we caught the star show at the Planetarium. After that, Dad took me to this huge CD and tape store near Lincoln Center. We spent over an hour there. Then we went downtown to Chinatown for supper, and back up to the West Village to see a play.

  That night, I lay in the dark in my tiny bedroom and watched the car lights from the street outside gliding across the ceiling. Physically I was exhausted, but my mind was wide awa
ke. I couldn’t stop thinking about where Dad and I should go on our vacation.

  I didn’t feel too old for Disney World but I’d been there already (on this great trip with the BSC). Maybe it was time for a trip to Europe. Would two weeks be long enough? Or, should I come up with something closer to home?

  Europe sounded good, though. I put my hands behind my head and pictured myself sitting in some cute little café on a Parisian boulevard. I’d wear a great red beret with something super stylish. As elegant Parisians walked past, I’d bend my head close to the person sitting beside me to say something very clever in French.

  No. There was a problem with that picture. The person I pictured beside me at the table was Robert, not my father. Maybe it would be better to go someplace else with Dad and save the European trip for some other time. (Like a honeymoon with Robert. Who knows? It could happen.)

  I sat up, leaning on my elbows. I’d had a great idea! I could go to California and visit Dawn. California isn’t really much closer than Europe, but I’d get to see Dawn.

  I lay back down and shut my eyes. In the morning I’d tell Dad what I’d decided. We were California bound!

  After that, sleep came pretty fast. Soon I was dreaming. Dawn and I were surfing, riding perfect wave after perfect wave. Then the dream changed. I was with Robert, on a sailboat. The sky was clear and the wind filled the sail. In my dream, the boat was sailing itself, while we sat with our arms around each other.

  It was the most romantic dream.

  When I opened my eyes, Dad was already moving around the apartment. “Morning,” he greeted me as I shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” I said sleepily, sitting down at the table. Suddenly, I remembered my dream. “Dad,” I said. “I’ve decided where I want to go on vacation.”

  “Where?” he asked.

  “Davis Park,” I said. (Sorry, Dawn.)

  On Monday I could hardly wait to tell my friends my vacation news, but I decided to put it off until our BSC meeting at 5:30. That way I could tell them all at once.

  At first, Dad had been surprised by my choice. He knew about Davis Park, but hadn’t expected that I would. I told him I’d heard about it from friends, but I didn’t mention Robert. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He might think I wasn’t interested in spending time with him — that the only reason I wanted to go to Davis Park was because of Robert. That wasn’t exactly true. Robert would be at work all day, and I would be spending time with my father. But by going to Davis Park, I’d be able to see Robert some of the time, which was certainly better than seeing him none of the time.

  Anyway, at brunch that day Dad said he thought going to Davis Park was a great idea.

  After we ate, I gave him his Father’s Day gift. He loved the chess set as much as I’d hoped. “I’ll teach you to play on the beach at Davis Park,” Dad said happily.

  I arrived at Claudia’s house before 5:30 on Monday and let myself in. (The Kishis don’t mind — they’re used to the BSC members trooping in and out on meeting days. We’ve always met there.) I bounded up the stairs. “Hi, Claud,” I said as I walked into her bedroom and bounced onto her bed.

  “Hi,” said Claudia, putting down her sketchbook. She had been drawing with colored pencils, and her picture looked kind of like a cartoon. It was a group portrait of the BSC members.

  “This is excellent,” I said, looking more closely. “My hair is not that curly, though.”

  “It’s a caricature,” Claudia explained. “Everything is supposed to be a little exaggerated.”

  The cartoon — or caricature — really was good. Claudia is such a talented artist. She sculpts, does pottery and silk-screening, makes jewelry, paints. You name it! If it’s artistic, Claudia does it, and does it well.

  As I mentioned, Claudia is my very best friend. She’s really beautiful, with long, silky, black hair and totally perfect skin. She’s Japanese-American, and has the most gorgeous, dark, almond-shaped eyes.

  She also has a fabulous sense of style. Like me, Claudia’s really into fashion, but she does everything her own way. Claudia knows how to personalize a look. She’ll combine clothing in a way you might think would be disastrous, and instead of disaster she ends up with perfection. For example, today she was wearing a long, black, crocheted vest that fell to her knees over a pair of black shorts and a white blouse with ruffles at the collar and cuffs. Her hair was in two long braids tied with black and white ribbons at the ends. On her feet were black sandals with a thick platform sole and white ribbons which laced around her ankles. (The ribbons had originally been black, but Claudia cut them off and glued on white ribbons.) The outfit might sound crazy, but it looked great!

  “Claudia,” I said. “I have to talk to you about something.”

  Claudia fished a pack of Cheetos from behind her pillow. (Claudia has to hide her junk food because her parents disapprove.) “What?” she asked as she tore open the bag.

  “Would you like to come to Davis Park, on Fire Island, for two weeks with Dad and me?” Dad had told me I could bring her if she wanted to come. He said it would be good if I had some company in case he had to catch up on a little work while we were there. (That’s my dad the workaholic for you. I suppose I couldn’t expect him to change completely.)

  Claudia dropped her Cheetos all over the bed. “Of course I would!” she cried. “That would be so great! When?”

  “We’d ride down to the city after school this Friday. Dad would meet us. Then we’d take the train out to Long Island early Saturday morning and take the ferry over.”

  “Friday will be my lucky day,” said Claudia happily. “The last day of school and a trip to Fire Island.” Claudia is not a big fan of school. She’s smart but she’s not good at academics, she’s a horrible speller, and she doesn’t care about grades. She just wants to do well enough to keep her parents from becoming too upset.

  Mr. and Mrs. Kishi aren’t thrilled by Claudia’s attitude toward school. Claudia’s older sister, Janine, is a real high-IQ genius. She already takes college classes even though she’s still in high school. I guess the Kishis expected Claudia to follow in Janine’s footsteps. Lately, it seems they’ve been appreciating Claudia’s own strengths a little more.

  “I’ll have to ask Mom and Dad, of course,” said Claudia, picking up the Cheetos. “But I’m sure they’ll say yes. Why did you pick Davis Park? Isn’t that where Robert’s family has a house?”

  “That’s right. Robert’s family spends every August there and he makes it sound so nice,” I said. Somehow, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her the whole story, about Robert getting the job on the ferry and all. I hadn’t told anyone about Robert going away so soon, I guess because I’d felt too sad to talk about it. Now, I decided not to tell Claudia because I was afraid she wouldn’t want to come if she knew Robert would be there. She might think she’d be a kind of fifth wheel. That wasn’t true, though. Robert would be working most of the time.

  “Too bad you can’t go in August, when Robert will be there,” Claudia said. “But it’s good for me. If Robert were there you wouldn’t need me to come along.”

  “I’d still want you there,” I insisted.

  “No, you wouldn’t, ” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’d just be in the way.”

  That did it. Once she said that, I knew I’d been right not to tell her about Robert.

  “Hi, guys.” Claudia and I looked up to see Kristy Thomas coming through the door. As usual, she was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers, and her long, brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She sat down in Claudia’s director’s chair, which is where she always sits during BSC meetings. Reaching over, she plucked Claudia’s sketch off the bed. “Hey, this is great,” she said. “Only, I’m not that short.”

  “It’s a caricature,” Claudia explained again. “Everything is exaggerated.”

  “Yeah, but you made me the shortest one in the group,” she protested.

  “You are the shortest one,” Claudia rem
inded her.

  “Even shorter than Mary Anne?” she asked. Claudia and I both nodded. Kristy frowned and studied the picture. “You know, this picture gives me an idea,” she said, almost as if she were talking to herself.

  Claudia and I exchanged a Look. Something is always giving Kristy an idea. Great ideas are what she’s famous for. In fact, the Baby-sitters Club was Kristy’s idea to begin with.

  It came to her one day when her mother was trying to get a baby-sitter for her younger brother, David Michael. Kristy and her two older brothers, Sam and Charlie, were all going to be busy the following afternoon when Mrs. Thomas needed a sitter. And Kristy’s father had left the family shortly after David Michael was born, so obviously he couldn’t baby-sit, either.

  Her mother seemed to be making a trillion phone calls without finding anyone to sit. That’s when it occurred to Kristy that parents would love being able to call one number and reach a bunch of baby-sitters all at once.

  Kristy told her great idea to her best friend Mary Anne Spier. They told Claudia, and Claud suggested inviting me to be part of the Baby-sitters Club, too.

  We put up fliers advertising our new baby-sitting service. Parents could call Claudia’s private phone number between 5:30 and 6:00 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and reach four qualified baby-sitters. It was an instant success. Right away we had more business than we could handle.

  We were so swamped that Mary Anne suggested we invite Dawn Schafer to join the group. Dawn was new in school; Mary Anne had just met her, but they’d hit it off right away.

  As I told you, Dawn is from California. She’s tall and slim, with long, white-blonde hair. Her style of dressing is casual but cool. And Dawn is very much her own person. She cares deeply about social causes and the environment, for example. And even when it isn’t easy, she follows her own beliefs.

  It was funny that Mary Anne and Dawn became such instant friends, partly because Mary Anne’s incredibly shy, and partly because at first glance, Dawn and Mary Anne seem pretty different. Mary Anne is short (though not quite as short as Kristy), she’s on the quiet side, and she had brown hair and brown eyes. When Mary Anne met Dawn she was still wearing her hair in braids every day and dressing in jumpers and kneesocks. (Her clothes and hair weren’t entirely her fault. Her father was still super strict back then.)