The Steps

  “Klutzy?” Ben laughed. “What’s that?”

  “I stumble into things, fall down, trip, things like that. Klutzy. It’s my grandma’s word.” Shut up, Annabel, I thought. SHUT UP!

  “Well, klutzy,” Ben said. “I come here every morning before school for a run. I come on holidays, too, because now it’s become a habit. If I’m going to be a professional footy player one day, I have to train every chance I get.”

  I tested him. “Wouldn’t you rather be playing on your PlayStation instead of getting up so early in the morning to work out?”

  Ben stared at me very seriously. “I’d much rather be playing footy or working out than be locked up inside playing on some dumb machine.”

  I had to turn around so he would not see me catch my breath. He joined me as I walked toward the oval.

  “Do you work out?” he asked.

  “I go running with my mom sometimes in Central Park,” I said. “And I love to swim and rollerblade.”

  “Cool,” Ben said. Without either of us inviting the other, we started jogging side by side along the pavement ringing the oval. “I’ve always wanted to visit New York. Seems like a fantastic city when you see it in movies or on the telly. Dad says maybe we’ll go there for my sixteenth birthday. He’s been saving for years for us to take an adventure somewhere.”

  “You should go!” I said. I turned around to run backward so I could face him. “It’s the coolest city. You’d have to go to the Empire State Building because every tourist does that, but after you should go see the Chrysler Building, which is way cooler. It has this arch tower with art deco windows, and I think it’s probably the most enchanted building in all of Manhattan. And you could go running around the reservoir in Central Park like Madonna does and go ice-skating at Rockefeller Center and of course you’d have to go to the Village to play pickup basketball, and then there’s always lots of football or baseball games you could get in on in Riverside Park, maybe you could even teach the guys there how to play Australian footy.”

  I was talking a mile a minute, like I was Angelina. As I talked I gestured wildly with my hands I was so excited, and of course, running backward and flailing my arms about, not to mention my shoelace, which had come untied, I tripped and fell on the grass.

  “Owww!” I cried out. Could I just die right now?

  Ben stopped his jog and sat down on the grass next to me. He leaned in to touch my ankle, to see if it was okay, but then got really shy just before his hand reached my shoe. He pulled his hand back suddenly.

  “You ok, klutzy?” he said instead. His smile and deep green eyes made me forget all about the sharp pain.

  “Want to know a secret I haven’t even told Lucy?” I said.

  “Yeah!” he said quickly.

  “My friends at home call me Whoops.”

  “Whoops?” Ben said.

  “On account of I’m always falling and . . .” I hesitated, not sure whether I could trust him with this information. Then I decided I could, and I finished, “Because my full name is Annabel Whoopi Schubert. My middle name is Whoopi.”

  Here’s how I knew I loved him. He didn’t laugh.

  “Cool,” he said. I think that was his favorite word. From the way he pronounced the word, I bet he listened to a lot of hip-hop music.

  I stood up and tried to start running again, but the pain in my ankle was too intense. “I think I’d better go home and put some ice on this foot,” I said.

  “I’ll walk you,” Ben said. I dare you to find one boy at the Progress School that chivalrous. I dare you further to find one with an Australian accent as sweet sounding. My ankle was hurting less already, but I hung on to his arm as I limped back to Granny Nell’s anyway. Hanging on to arms is what Brittany Carlson does to Brad Dufus the Third, and even though she is the last of my idols, in the boyfriend department at least, I figured I could learn from her.

  Ben’s arm muscles were Australian Grade A buff!

  “You’ll be okay?” he asked me as we reached the gate to Granny Nell’s. I nodded. I thought, I’ll be okay so long as I get to see you again! I closed my eyes halfway in case he wanted to kiss me. He didn’t.

  “See ya, Whoops.”

  I opened my eyes back all the way to see Ben sprinting back toward the oval.

  Chapter 20

  Lucy came back into the shed we were cleaning with a pitcher of lemonade.

  “Guess who’s coming to dinner?” Lucy asked.

  “Jenny?” I assumed.

  “No, Jenny’s coming to lunch. Patrick and Ben are coming to dinner. Patrick called and invited us over, but then Granny Nell asked them over instead. She loves to cook for people.”

  Ben was coming to dinner? I looked at my watch. That gave me only about seven hours to figure out what to wear.

  “I thought your grandmother didn’t get along with Ben’s father,” I said.

  “Not so,” Lucy said. “She just didn’t like Mum marrying him barely a year after our dad died. She likes Patrick just fine. They live right down the street.” I understood. Bubbe liked Jack just fine as my dad, but not as Angelina’s “partner.”

  “Guess what else?” Lucy said. The shed was pretty dark, but I could tell she was smirking.

  “What?”

  “Well, Whoops, seems that our Ben has got a thing for . . . you!”

  “He told you that?” That Ben had told Lucy my secret nickname didn’t matter at all if he was crushing on me.

  “Not exactly. He asked to talk to me after Patrick finished on the phone with Granny Nell. He said, ‘Tell Whoops I said hi.’ ” Lucy paused. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Jack told us about your middle name when we watched Sister Act. You should feel lucky. Whoopi is a much cooler middle name than mine. Adelaide. Lucy Adelaide Crosswell. Dumb! Guess what else?” Lucy was having way too much fun with this.

  “What?”

  “Ben said you’re the prettiest American girl he’s ever seen besides Julia Roberts! He luuuvs your American accent.”

  “Ben’s seen Julia Roberts?”

  “No, silly!” Lucy said. “He lives in Melbourne! But if he had . . . then you’d be like, next prettiest.”

  Whoa! I thought my heart might jump out of my chest. I was twelve years old and facing massive punishment the next day, and still my life was this good.

  It was hard to gloat about this new piece of information. Lucy was trying hard not to be sad. The shed we were cleaning was filled with old possessions of her dad’s: old surfboards, woodworking equipment, microscopes, and tools. Lucy told me Penny had stored the stuff at Granny Nell’s because she couldn’t bear to look at her husband’s things after he had died so suddenly, so young.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. I poured her a lemonade.

  “This whole week has been so intense,” she said. “I want to cry seeing all his stuff. But it’s like I’m out of tears. Remember how you said you were mad because Angus and I call Jack ‘Dad’?” I nodded. Lucy continued, “Well, sometimes I wonder if my real dad is mad about it too.”

  “He’s not,” I told Lucy.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because if I can learn to deal with it, so could your real dad. Your dad would be glad that you and Jack found each other, like I am.” If anybody had told me a week earlier that I would have admitted that, I would have wanted to spit in their face.

  “Angus will probably end up being a marine biologist just like our real dad was,” Lucy said. “Let’s polish this equipment, and then we’ll wrap the stuff and store it so we can keep it in good shape for when Angus grows up and wants it.”

  The last of Lucy’s tears dried as she proceeded to work.

  Chapter 21

  Ben and his dad were really close. I thought that was really cool. Most of the boys I knew at school were embarrassed when their dad was around. But Ben, you could tell, really liked his dad. They were buds. They laughed the same laugh, smiled the same smile, talked the same topics.

  “This casserole is graay
ate, Mrs. Crosswell!” Patrick said.

  “Graayate!” Ben seconded. I am convinced “graayate” is the Australian national word, after any word cut off and ending in ie.

  “They’re all each other has,” Granny Nell confided to me in the kitchen. Granny Nell didn’t treat me like a guest. She let me help with the chopping, cooking, and serving. “Those two look after the other since Ben’s mum passed and Patrick and Penny split up. That’s the way it should be with fathers and sons!” Then Granny Nell looked at me as I helped her pull a chocolate soufflé out of the oven. “Is that glitter on your eyelids?”

  I grinned.

  Granny Nell said, “Well, aren’t you tarted up but lovely.” I had borrowed back my panoramic New York picture dress and black platform sandals from Lucy. After Lucy and I had finished cleaning the shed, I had taken a shower and then put my hair in braids. I took the braids out right before Ben and his dad arrived, so that my hair fell down my back in blond waves. I added silver sparkle to my eyelids and a touch of pink lipstick to my lips. And Lucy, Jenny, and I had painted one another’s toenails a funky purple color earlier that afternoon.

  Patrick’s and Ben’s eyes widened very happily when we brought out the chocolate soufflé. It really was a special evening. Granny Nell had set up candles in the dining room, a lovely summer breeze was coming in through the lace curtains, and Duke Ellington jazz, which I knew because it was also one of Bubbe’s favorites, was playing on the stereo.

  Lucy and I knew it was our last night together before we had to return to Sydney and “be held accountable for our crimes,” as Granny Nell said, and there was a mellow happiness between us. Like we knew our adventure was ending, but how glad we were to have had it. Ben’s being there on our last evening of our adventure made the night more than perfect—it was bliss.

  “Lucy,” Patrick said. “Sydney’s been good to you. You’re growing into a lovely girl. You’ll give your mother my best?” Lucy nodded shyly.

  “How’s my buddy Angus?” Ben asked. “Tell him thanks for the birthday card!” Lucy had told me that Ben was Angus’s hero. Points for Angus.

  “Mrs. Crosswell, this is the best chocolate soufflé I’ve ever had in my life.” Granny Nell beamed at Patrick’s compliment.

  “Are you seeing anyone, dear?” Granny Nell asked Patrick.

  “No time, really,” Patrick said. He looked at Ben. “The boy keeps me pretty busy. We’re training him for professional footy, you know. And he’s going to work with me at some jobs this school holiday, right, son?” Ben’s dad was a contractor who installed skylights, did electrical work, and generally made people’s houses look and work amazingly, Lucy had told me. I could not name one boy at the Progress School who had a job with his dad.

  Ben nodded eagerly, but his mouth was full. Another thing I liked about Ben was how unspoiled he was. He wasn’t like those kids at the Progress School who can only talk about what computers their parents are going to get them, where their parents are taking them on vacation, what everyone could do for them. Ben was respectful and wanted to help his dad, instead of the other way around.

  For some reason, seeing Patrick and Ben together made me feel better about Harvey and Wheaties coming into my family. Having men around added an exciting energy to the dinner table.

  Lucy said to her grandmother, “Ben’s interested in learning how to surf over the school holidays. I was thinking maybe we could give him one of Dad’s old surfboards? There would still be plenty left for me and Angus, Granny. What do you think?”

  “If it’s all right with you, it’s all right with me. Those are your boards to give away, Lucy love.”

  I hadn’t even realized the bait Lucy was throwing out until she said to me, “Annabel, why don’t you go show Ben the surfboards in the shed while Granny and I make coffee?”

  I love you Lucy, I thought.

  Ben and I jumped up from the table and went to the shed outside. “Wow,” Ben said when he saw how the shed glimmered in cleanliness and orderliness. “You and Luce really made this shed look great. I took some rakes out of here last winter to help Mrs. Crosswell clean up some leaves, and this shed was a mess!”

  Now it was my turn to beam.

  “You should come visit New York sometime,” I said, searching for something, anything, to say.

  “That would be fantastic,” Ben said. Fantastic. Something only a megafine Australian guy would say.

  The last specks of sunlight were shining into the shed as I showed Ben the surfboards. He stood up so close to me as we inspected the surfboards, and I could tell he was as nervous as I. He leaned in toward me, like maybe he wanted to touch my wavy-shiny hair, but then he pulled his hand back and touched one of the boards. “These surfboards are graayate,” he admired. We both knew he didn’t care about the surfboards at that particular moment.

  I knew we didn’t have much time before Lucy, Granny Nell, and Patrick came outside to join us. This was our moment, but Ben was too shy to make the most of it. So I took matters into my own hands.

  I would never have done what I did next if Justine hadn’t told me about the move from a sexy book she read. I reached for Ben’s hand and placed it on my hip, then reached to put my arm on his shoulder. I smiled a closed-mouth smile so my braces would not twinkle in the twilight. Ben figured out the rest. He turned beet red, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn he was counting in his mind “One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi . . .” before he leaned down. He finally moved his head down toward mine, and our lips touched in the best moment of my life that far.

  I counted. The kiss lasted five heartbeats.

  Chapter 22

  I almost thought we had arrived at some parallel universe when we returned to Sydney the next morning. As Lucy, Granny Nell, and I walked out to the airport arrival area, who should be standing there waiting for us but: Penny and Jack, Angus holding Bubbe’s hand, Beatrice in a Snugli on Angelina’s chest, and Harvey and Wheaties? Excuse me?

  “I told you there was a surprise waiting for you in Sydney,” Granny Nell chuckled as we walked toward them. We had thought she meant a surprise garage to clean or that we would be—surprise!—grounded until the next millennium was halfway over.

  Both Lucy and I looked at each other like, Now what do we do?

  The moms came forward first. Penny grabbed Lucy toward her chest, and Angelina handed off Beatrice to Harvey and ran to me. “Oh, my baby,” she said, squeezing me into the fiercest hug I’d ever experienced. She kissed the top of my head over and over.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, even though words were difficult. Angelina had my face nuzzled so hard to her chest it was difficult to breathe, much less speak. She smelled like Chanel perfume and baby powder.

  Oh, no, I thought, another airport scene. I could just see future tourist billboard advertisements for Australia with pictures of me and the Steps and all our parents having weird reunions at the Sydney airport.

  “After you hung up the phone on me, and I couldn’t reach you by phone because you had unplugged it—you bad girl—I told Harvey we had to go to Australia right away to work this out. Bubbe said there was no way we were going to Australia without her, too. Harvey made hotel reservations, called the airline to cash in his million frequent flyer miles, and he had us on a plane to Sydney before I even had a chance to find out you had run away to Melbourne with Lucy. By the time we got here, you and Lucy were at Lucy’s grandmother’s. Your father might need to be hospitalized after the stress of these last few days. First you girls run away, then we show up unexpectedly. We’re going to have a long talk this afternoon, young lady.”

  That “young lady” again. Since when had Jack and now Angelina, too, become so . . . so . . . parental?

  Jack broke away from hugging Lucy and lifted me in his arms like I was still a baby. Tears were in his eyes. His big, tall body was heavy with relief and happiness.

  “Anna-the-Belle,” he murmured. And I’d thought Angelina’s squeeze wa
s tight.

  “I’m so sorry, Jack,” I said. “Please don’t be furious with me.” I tried to be cool, but the tears were streaming down my face and I was bawling like a baby.

  “Kiddo,” Jack said. Uh-oh, I thought. Nothing good ever comes of a conversation a parent starts with the word kiddo. “Maybe it’s time you started calling me Dad.”

  I nodded into his neck and wished to stay in his arms forever.

  * * *

  Lucy and I were not allowed to go home right away. The first thing our parents did after releasing us from hugs and kisses was to sit us down. At the airport terminal, with a Sydney police officer they’d brought along!

  The officer had a notebook filled with pictures of kids our age who had run away. Pictures of kids who were starving, who had been beaten, whose eyes begged for safety and warmth. Kids who had ended up homeless on the streets or lost forever, or worse, had been found dead. Lucy and I were shaking by the time the officer finished showing us the pictures.

  “Do you understand the risks you two took?” he asked.

  We both nodded. I think we were too shocked and horrified by the pictures to speak.

  The officer said, “Maybe you think you were having fun and making a point to your parents at the same time, but what you did was stupid. Bloody stupid. You two don’t know how lucky you were to make it to Lucy’s grandmother’s safely. Don’t ever do anything like that again if you value your families or your life.”

  We both gulped. We understood. Big time.

  Chapter 23

  Angelina and I had the long talk, “young lady,” in her hotel room.

  I had never stayed in a fancy hotel before. The beds were gigantic, and the curtains looked like they belonged in a museum. Our suite had plush sofas and armchairs, too. Harvey is very rich. He owns a chain of mattress stores all over the tristate area. He’s on television more than all of Angelina’s shampoo, telephone, and panty hose commercials combined. “Hi, I’m Harvey Weideman. You can trust your good night’s sleep to me.” Oy.