Baby-Sitters at Shadow Lake
“Smells like cabbage,” said Claud. “No, like cabbage and sewage.”
“I was thinking,” began Kristy, “that the smell was more like the one you get when you’ve just cleaned a fish and you’re stuffing the head down the garbage disposal and something disgusting is already in the garbage disposal, like chicken skin. And the smells meet —”
“Gross me out!” cried Mary Anne. “Kristy, don’t you ever stop? You are always making me sick.” Mary Anne turned to me. “She is always making me sick,” she added.
“For your information,” spoke up Karen haughtily, “that smell is not chicken heads or whatever you said. It is perfume. Lovely Lady perfume.”
“It is?” said Mallory cautiously.
“Yes. Nancy and Hannie and I were wearing it but then you said the dance was a casualty, Kristy, not a formal, so we took showers.”
“Casual,” Kristy corrected her sister absentmindedly. “And I hope this doesn’t mean the bathroom smells, too.” She stuck her head in the door. “Aughh!” she shrieked. “Disgusting! The shower smells like perfume and soap and … and … something else.”
“Lemon juice?” suggested Karen. “We rubbed lemons on our hands to help make the other smells go away.”
“Yechh,” said Kristy, and closed the door to the bathroom.
I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes had passed, and I was no closer to being ready for the dance. The room was pandemonium, but I would simply have to do my best. Ignoring my friends and the squabbling (also the odor in the shower), I rinsed off the suntan lotion and washed my hair. Then I got dressed. Even though the dance was not “a casualty” I wanted to look my best.
Since we would be leaving for Stoneybrook the next morning, I gathered together all of my clothes (the clean ones) and spread them on a lower bunk. This created a mess, but I was just going to have to pack them into my suitcase soon, so I didn’t mind.
While I was trying to decide on an outfit, Claudia wandered over and sat on the bed. (Actually, she sat on my Capri pants, but I wasn’t going to wear them, so it didn’t matter.) Claud glanced around the noisy room. When she was sure no one was paying attention to us, she said, “Have you figured out what to do about Sam?”
“About Sam?” I repeated.
“Yeah. Tonight? The dance? He’ll be there, of course.”
“I know….”
“And?”
“Well … and I don’t know.”
“What if he asks you to dance?”
I frowned. Then I sighed. “Like I said, I don’t know.”
Claudia looked a little hurt. “Okay.”
“Oh, Claud, I’m not — not holding anything back from you. Honest. It’s just that I have been thinking about Sam, and I really don’t know how to handle tonight. I’m sure there’ll be something to handle, though.”
“Probably you should just be polite. If he asks you to dance, then dance. Tonight’s our last night. Whatever he says or does, go along with him.”
“Even if he tells me I look ‘raaaavishing, dahling’?”
Claud grinned. “Yup. Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“He could make me look like a fool in front of everyone. He could dance like Frankenstein or something. That’s exactly the kind of thing Sam would do. I think he actually likes making scenes.”
“I guess you should just play it by ear.”
“Hey, I know! Promise me something. If Sam and I are together and he starts to act like a real jerk, come rescue me.”
“We ought to have a signal.”
“Oh, good idea! I know. If I need rescuing, I’ll blink my eyes at you. I just hope you’ll be able to see me.”
“I’ll try to stay close by.”
“Okay. Thanks, Claud. You are a true friend.”
“Why is she a true friend?” asked Kristy from behind us.
“She’s helping me with Sam,” I replied.
Kristy made a face. “Sam’s the one who needs help. Poor Stace. I’m sorry he’s interested in you. And I apologize for the fact that Sam is my brother.”
That evening we ate supper in a hurry. We ate in the cabin and the meal was sort of scattered, half of us eating while standing at counters, Karen and her friends eating out on the porch (where no one could smell them). Everybody was dressed and ready for the dance — and not terribly interested in eating.
We walked to the lodge in one big group, as if we were going there to eat dinner, but it was an hour later than usual, and when we reached the lodge we didn’t go to the dining room. Instead we entered the ballroom, and found it decorated.
“It looks like a school dance,” Mary Anne whispered to me.
And it did, balloons drifting down from the ceiling, paper decorations tacked to the walls, even a small band at one end of the room. However, unlike most of our school dances, the boys and girls did not divide themselves up on opposite sides of the room. Also, people began to dance right away. I saw Watson dancing with Kristy’s mom, Charlie dancing with Emily, the Three Musketeers dancing as a group, and Jessi dancing rather unhappily with Daniel. What was going on with Jessi? I wondered. Mal would probably know. I turned around to look for her — and found myself facing Sam.
“Hi, Stacey,” he said. “Would you like to dance?” Sam’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. He was frowning slightly.
“Okay,” I replied.
And at that second, the band ended a fast song and began playing a slow one. Sam opened his arms to me. Wordlessly, I fell into them and Sam guided me around the room. Once, I glimpsed Claudia. She raised her eyebrows at me and I smiled dreamily at her.
The next thing I knew, she had broken away from some guy I didn’t know and was pushing her way toward me. What on earth — and then I realized. I had blinked my eyes.
Claudia was coming to rescue me. I shook my head (just slightly). I stared at her, eyes wide open. Finally, I waved to her over Sam’s shoulder. Claud skidded to a stop. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Then she blushed.
“SORRY!” she mouthed to me.
“THAT’S OKAY,” I mouthed back.
Claud turned away.
I felt Sam’s arms tighten around me. I laid my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes (to be on the safe side). And we drifted through the rest of the evening together. Has Sam liked me this way all along? I wondered. Have I liked him? Even without conversation, I knew the answer to both questions. Yes.
Stacey wasn’t the only one who couldn’t tell the entire truth in Kristy’s trip diary. Maybe you’ve guessed that I didn’t tell the entire truth myself in my last diary entry. Actually, not only did I leave out some important information, but I sort of lied a little. The truth is that the dance, the band, the food, and the decorations were wonderful, but I did not have a wonderful time. Mostly, this was my fault.
* * *
“Jessi?” said Mallory before we left for the dance. “Are you okay? You seem a little, oh, nervous.” We were in the girls’ dorm. I was leaning into a mirror, putting on a pair of earrings, and Mal was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder.
“Who me?” I replied. “Nervous?” I dropped one of the earrings behind the bureau and had to crawl around on the floor to find it.
“Yeah, you,” said Mal as I held up the earring and a dustball.
“Well, I guess a little. Yeah.”
“But you like dances.”
“I know. I’ve never been to one with Daniel, though.”
Mal frowned. “I don’t get it,” she said.
“Mal, Daniel likes me,” I explained. “And I liked him, too, at first. But the boy I really like is Quint.”
“And you think Daniel is going to … what?” Mal’s voice trailed off.
“I think that at the dance tonight he’s going to … profess his love for me.”
“You do? Gosh,” breathed Mallory, awed. “No boy has ever, um, professed his love for me. When Ben Hobart and I go to movies and to dances and stuff, we always, well, we always j
ust watch the movies and dance. And talk, of course, but about things like what our brothers have done and why there should be movies that adults are not allowed to see.”
“Daniel is older than Quint and Ben,” I pointed out. “An entire year older.”
“Whew,” said Mal. “If things seem complicated now, imagine how they’ll seem when we’re sixteen and in high school.”
I’m not sure why, exactly, I like certain people and dislike certain other people. I mean, it isn’t as if all the people I dislike are axe murderers and every single person I do like is friendly and honest and smart and talented and … perfect. No, some people I really can’t stand are all those good things. And my close friends are certainly not perfect. Kristy is bossy and Claudia’s a slob and even Mal drives me crazy sometimes when she won’t stop talking about how her parents are treating her like a baby.
This is why I can’t say just how I knew I really liked Quint, and how I knew I just sort of liked Daniel. But I knew. I also knew that somehow, at the dance, I was going to have to let Daniel down. I was going to have to tell him my true feelings about Quint.
As we walked to the lodge after supper on Friday evening, I began rehearsing a speech. I planned to recite it to Daniel sometime that night. This is what I was going to say: “Daniel, I want you to know I’ve really enjoyed our time together here at Shadow Lake. The last week and a half have been a lot of fun. But I’ve decided that Quint, the other man in my life, means more to me than I’d realized. Daniel, I don’t want to hurt you, but I just can’t be your girlfriend. I hope you aren’t too upset.”
The speech seemed unfinished somehow, but I wasn’t sure what to add to it. I prayed that something decent would spring to mind while I was giving the speech. A brilliant ad lib. Maybe even a witty one, so I could leave Daniel laughing.
“Jessi? Hey, Jessi!”
“Yeah?” I shook myself.
“Um, the lodge is this way,” said Dawn, giving me a strange look.
“Oh,” I replied, glancing around. We had almost reached the lodge and everyone else had just negotiated the right-hand turn off the path. But I had continued straight ahead.
I ran to catch up with the others and Mal laid her hand on my arm. “Jessi, get a grip!” she whispered loudly.
We entered the lodge, bypassed the dining room, and walked into … well, it’s called the ballroom, but it does not look like my idea of a ballroom. I think of ballrooms as absolutely huge with tall, many-paned windows and a winding staircase down which party guests can make grand entrances. It starts out as just one staircase, then splits into two that meander down to the dance floor. At the windows are rich velvet curtains that are so heavy they don’t even stir with a breeze, and hanging from the ceiling are gold and crystal chandeliers. Wait — gold and diamond chandeliers.
Now, I will admit that the ballroom at the lodge was beautifully decorated. Otherwise, it looked just like the dining room, without the tables and chairs. Dark wood, beams running overhead. Your basic big log cabin. And of course, no one was wearing gowns or powdered wigs. Pretty much, no one was even wearing dresses or neckties. Still, when my friends and I first stepped into the room, I caught my breath. I just love the aura of a dance, whether it’s a ballet, a bunch of kindergartners in flower costumes, or a group of people ready to enjoy an evening together. I guess I love the concept of “dance.”
“Jessi?” said a voice. This time it belonged to Claudia. “You’re a million miles away.” I nodded. I knew why. It was easier to daydream and to let my mind wander than to face Daniel and give my speech.
“Any particular reason?” she asked. She was grinning, as if she knew exactly what the reason was, but she wanted to hear me say it.
“I guess,” I replied. “I —” And at that moment someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind. I turned around.
There stood Daniel.
“Jessi, you look lovely tonight,” he said.
I guess I should have replied, “Thank you,” but instead I said, “I do?” I mean, I was wearing a jean skirt, a yellow tank top, flop socks, and high-top sneakers.
“Yeah. You look gorgeous,” Daniel said lightly.
Actually, I knew what he meant. Daniel was just wearing shorts, a polo shirt, and loafers, but he looked pretty gorgeous himself.
“Want to dance?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied. The band was playing oldies but goodies. Real oldies. They started off with “Chains of Love.” Daniel led me to a spot smack in the middle of the dance floor. And as we danced, he kept smiling at me. I smiled back, but found I couldn’t look directly into his eyes for more than a few seconds. Then my gaze would drift away, over his shoulder, and I’d realize I was watching Charlie whirl by with Emily Michelle in his arms, or the Three Musketeers, or Stacey and Sam…. Stacey and Sam? I did a double take. I must have seen — No, it was Stacey and Sam. They whirled by us again, and Stacey was actually smiling.
The band paused, then switched to a slow number, the second one of the evening. When the first one began, I had told Daniel I wanted to get some refreshments. But this time, he put his arms around me immediately. Uh-oh. Time to give my speech.
I leaned away from Daniel and looked up at him. “Daniel?” I began.
“Yeah?”
“You know, I’m leaving tomorrow. And I want you to know I’ve really enjoyed our time together here at Shadow Lake. The —”
“Me, too.”
I nodded. “Well, anyway, the last week and a half have been a lot of fun.”
“Definitely.”
“And — and, um.” (I hadn’t planned on my speech being interrupted.) “And — oh, yeah. I mean, but I’ve decided that Quint — remember, I told you about him — that Quint means more to me than I realized. Daniel, I don’t want to hurt you, but … ”
I stopped speaking when I realized Daniel was frowning slightly. He dropped his arms from around my waist. Oh, no. After all my planning I had hurt his feelings.
“Um, Jessi,” said Daniel quietly, “I like you, too, but I never meant for you to think I wanted to be your boyfriend. I just wanted to be your friend. I have a girlfriend back in Boston. Her name is Carol.”
Whoa. I could feel my face burning. I was sure I had never, ever been more embarrassed. Oh, my lord, Daniel must think I’m the most conceited, self-centered —
But he was smiling. “I had a great time, too, Jessi, and I want to thank you for showing me how much fun dancing can be. In fact, I was thinking. How about one more lesson?”
I smiled back at him. “You got it,” I said.
All right, I know the last diary entry sounds a little desperate, but I meant absolutely every single over-written word of it. I prayed that if Watson had any doubts about deciding to accept the house — even after he read the diary — this entry would change his mind. It was my only hope. I was willing to risk sounding foolish.
Well, the dance ended, Friday ended, and Saturday arrived. Nobody woke up easily. Every one of us — my family, our friends — had stayed at the lodge until the band packed up their instruments and left, and the waitresses began to clear the refreshment tables. Here is something very gross: Stacey and Sam did not stop dancing until after the band had left. This means that for awhile the two of them were just dancing around the ballroom — alone — without music. (Oh, please. Give me a break. How could anyone get romantic with my brother?)
You should have heard Stacey after we returned from the dance. Well, actually, you should have seen her, since she wasn’t saying anything. The girls were milling around in our bedroom, getting ready for bed. My friends and I were helping the Three Musketeers and Emily. Emily, by the way, had fallen asleep in Watson’s arms while we walked back to the cabin. Now she was sprawled on her bunk on her back, arms and legs flung out. We took off her clothes, put on her pajamas, and slipped her under the covers, and she never woke up.
Anyway, after Emily was in bed and the Three Musketeers were talking sleepily in theirs, my friends and I ti
ptoed onto the porch. We slumped into the wicker chairs and began whispering.
“Did you see me dancing with Andrew?” I asked. “He stood on my feet while I moved around. He said that way he wouldn’t be able to step on my feet. I think we danced about five times.”
In the dim porch light I saw Mary Anne smile. “He danced with me that way, too,” she said. “Then I told him to dance with Emily Michelle, so he did, but they kept crashing into people’s knees and falling down.”
“I danced with two really nice boys,” spoke up Mallory, “but we didn’t tell each other our names.” She was sitting under a bug-zapper, swathed in her mosquito netting, a can of Raid next to her. At least she had taken the netting off for the dance.
“I mostly danced with Daniel,” said Jessi, who didn’t sound terribly excited about it. Not even very pleased.
Claud looked at her, frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jessi shrugged. She wasn’t ready to tell us what had happened between her and Daniel. Not then. She told us several days later.
“Stace?” I said. (No answer.) “Yo, Stacey!”
“What?” She’d been staring up at the roof of the porch. Now she shifted her gaze to me, with a look that said she might or might not be aware of her surroundings. “Yeah?”
“Did you, um, have fun tonight?”
“Oh, yes.” Stacey’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
Gag, gag, gag, I thought, but I couldn’t resist digging up just a little more information. “So, what exactly do you see in my brother?”
“Huh?”
“In Sam! What do you see in Sam?”
“Oh, he’s gorgeous, Kristy. I don’t know why it took me so long to notice. I mean, when I kind of liked him last year I thought he was cute and everything, but he’s beyond cute. He truly is gorgeous. Maybe during the last year he blossomed. Like a flower.”
I coughed, covering up a giggle, but the rest of my friends were gazing solemnly at Stacey. (Later, Mary Anne said to me, “I recognize true love when I see it.”)
“Girls?” called a quiet voice from inside the cabin.