That Summer

“I know.” I wondered if Ashley was looking out at us. “You sure you don’t want to come in? My mom would love to see you.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Not now. I gotta go.”

I got out of the car, shutting the door behind me. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Well, you didn’t have far to go.”

“No. But it was nice anyway.”

“ ’Bye, Haven. Hang in there.” He started the engine and the blubbing built to a noisy peak before leveling off steady. I stood on the curb, watching him drive away, and just as he turned the corner I thought of my father and Lorna again, and the baby with its tiny ears. Even Sumner and his jobs and jokes couldn’t make some things go away.

Chapter Nine

That weekend was the official premiere of the Lakeview Models in the annual Back to School Fall Preview Fashion Show. The name had been changed, however, to the Back to School Fall Preview Fashion Show Featuring a Special Appearance by Former Lakeview Model Gwendolyn Rogers; someone had gone around with a magic marker and added on to all the signs. I wondered how Gwendolyn was feeling, if she was still out staring in her backyard or pacing the neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning, or if she even cared about the Lakeview Models at all, in the midst of her rumored nervous breakdown. I’d been thinking about Gwendolyn Rogers a lot lately as I sat awake in my own bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what could happen next. Sometimes I even listened for the sound of her feet on the pavement outside, the rustle of her passing, the shallow breaths I imagined of someone gone wild. I was sure I’d heard her, at least once.

The whole town turned out for the Fall Fashion Preview that Saturday; but since most people were not interested in buying children’s shoes, Marlene and I took turns walking down to the main stage and reporting back on the activity. In the early part of the morning, there was a great racket of chairs being set up and people shouting to each other. Around noon, the models arrived and began to get ready in the store that had been Holland Farms Cheeses and Gifts until it had just recently gone out of business. Now it had a sign in the front window that read Model Prep Area, with the words Authorized Persons Only, Please written in firm little letters beneath it. They were in there, cooing and giggling. You could hear them from outside, where all the younger girls and those who hadn’t made it were grouped, trying to catch a glimpse of Gwendolyn or the models or anyone even slightly related to the whole process. And of course Sumner was there in his uniform, carrying a clipboard and looking official.

I was off for the day at one-thirty because I had the early shift, so I got to see the entire production. Casey and I met by the stage and took seats in the back, behind the mothers of the models and the screaming children that fill the mall every day and all the people with cameras out to get a good shot of Gwendolyn Rogers, Supermodel.

“I can’t tell you how I’ve been dying to get out of the house,” Casey said as we sat down. She was in another big shirt, this time an old rugby with worn elbows. “My mother is driving me nuts. She won’t let me near the phone or out the door without giving me the third degree, and I know she’s been in my room.” I was watching the stage as she spoke, which now had two white partitions covering the big leaves I’d seen a few weeks ago.

“You can’t tell,” I said.

“Yes I can, because I set traps for her.” She crossed her arms against her chest, triumphant. “I left a hair shut in my dresser drawer and in the latch of the box I keep all my important stuff in, and when I checked after coming home the other day they were both gone.”

I looked at her. “Hairs?”

“I saw it in a movie.” She flipped her hair and rolled her eyes, a combination of moves she’d picked up at camp along with all her other bad habits. “It’s drastic, I know, but something had to be done.”

“But she still went through your stuff,” I told her. “It’s not stopping her, it’s just proving the fact.”

“Right. And I have ammunition when I accuse her of invading my privacy. I’ll tell her I can prove it and then watch her squirm.” She sighed. “It’ll be ugly, but like I said, there’s no love in war.”

“It’s not really a war, Casey.”

“It’s close to it. You know Rick’s parents won’t even let him talk to me anymore? Every time I call they say he’s busy or at practice or something. I haven’t talked to him in a week.”

“He hasn’t called you?”

“He probably has and my parents don’t tell me. I swear to it, Haven, they want me miserable. They hate Rick and they haven’t even met him.” Behind us some baby started howling.

It was amazing what a summer could do. Before camp my best friend, Casey Melvin, was a short, pudgy redhead who hung back at introductions, couldn’t look a boy in the eye, and spent every Sunday afternoon taking tap-dancing lessons with her mother. Now she was at war with her parents, angry at the world in general, and more than a little bit paranoid. I wondered if the summer had changed me, if with one look the world could see a difference.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Lakeview Mall I would like to welcome you to the annual Fall Fashion Preview!” Everyone looked around for the source, since in years before, the show had relied on a woman with a loud voice to yell the commentary from side stage. The voice came from a speaker mounted on a plant right behind us: the Lakeview Mall had gone high tech. “And to begin our festivities, we have a very special guest. Please give a big welcome to our very own former Lakeview Mall Model and hometown girl, Gwendolyn Rogers!”