A Million Miles From Boston (17 page)

“Yes!” I glanced at the PT again, daring her to look at me.
Then I’d jerk my head away from her. She licked her finger and turned a page in her book, her head down.

My stomach sank. People were responsible for each other, and that night I’d been responsible for Bucky. I could blame her all I wanted, but it wasn’t her fault.

If I met her somewhere, like at a grocery store, and she had nothing to do with Dad, then I’d probably like her. I should apologize for running away and leaving her with the flowers, but then she might think it was okay to be here. Still, I should say
something
.

“Did you know that the Nile River is 4,132 miles long?” I remembered how amazed Lauren and I had been when Allison had rattled off those facts about raccoons.

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t smile. “Yes, it’s the longest river in the world.” Then she went back to her book. Okay, she was mad at me.

“Thanks for the rubbing alcohol,” I said. My ears had started to feel better.

Finally she glanced at me, her eyes soft, big mouth turned down. Maybe she wasn’t angry, but disappointed. Hot prickles started up my neck.

Dad came to the doorway, smiling at her—a different smile than he gave me. Excited. So, so happy. The prickles crept up to my cheeks and now I knew what they were.
Guilt
. Because I was mean to her or because of something else?

I jumped up. I couldn’t stand these feelings anymore.

“
nemy ahead, six o’clock!” Bucky, in his camouflage pajamas, ran into the yard. Henry followed, wearing an old army jacket that hung to his knees. They used sticks as guns and pinecones as grenades.

I watched from the porch, then pulled money out of my pocket. Another week of camp ended that day. I was two hundred dollars away from my goal. I’d make it as long as I didn’t spend a cent.

When Dad came to the doorway, I swept my money into my lap. A twenty-dollar bill fell onto Superior, who was stretched out across my feet. She sniffed it, then laid her head back down.

“I don’t know about you”—Dad pointed to the boys, then sat next to me—“but I feel a whole lot better knowing the cottage is fully protected.”

I smiled and shoved the bills back into my pocket. I felt
lucky to have a dad who was president of our family and who hadn’t packed up Mom’s things and shipped them off to Michigan after she died. He picked up a puzzle piece.

“Not this again.” I took the piece from him and we laughed.

“I’d hoped we could camp on Upper Egg this weekend, but the weather might not cooperate again.” His voice was so serious that I squeezed my puzzle piece. “And Julia has to work this weekend, so she won’t be up.”

I stared down, trying to hide a smile.

“Can we please talk about her?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“You know, she was married once. She lost her husband.”

I stood. Why did he want to talk about things all the time now?

“Will someone help me?” Bucky called. “I can’t reach my gun.”

I ran out the door and pulled Bucky’s stick from high in the hedges.

When I heard something behind me, I turned to see Ian pushing a wheelbarrow full of compost in the Steeles’ backyard. I walked over.

“I’m spreading this stuff in the garden, then taking out the kayak.” He tipped the wheelbarrow. “Man, how can something that smells so bad be so good?”

He held his nose and shuddered, his arms flopping. I laughed, then picked up the rake and started spreading the
compost. Ian pulled out weeds. We finished in a half hour and Mrs. Steele handed us each a blueberry muffin.

“Wow!” Ian smiled. “Your garden is the nicest one I’ve ever seen.”

Suck-up!

“Thank you, Ian. And thanks, you two, for your hard work.”

“Sure.” Ian bit into his muffin. “Good!”

I glanced at Mrs. Steele. So far only the PT didn’t seem snowed by Ian.

“You’re both welcome to the kayak,” she said. “Go on. Enjoy.”

Superior and I followed Ian to the dock. He handed me a life jacket and I zipped it to my chin. The water was calm but I saw how it stirred underneath the surface. Her nose over the edge of the dock, Superior paced, smelling, watching.

“Are you coming?” Ian said as we lowered the kayak.

“What about Superior?”

“She can come with us.” He sighed. “You’re afraid of drowning, aren’t you?”

I looked at the water, then nodded.

“You know, only, like, nine people drown in the U.S. every day,” he said.

That made 63 per week and 252 per month. “How’d you know that?”

“I found it on a Web site during our science project.” He smiled and I smiled back. We climbed onto the kayak and pushed off. Superior started barking at us.

“We’re not going far,” I yelled to her. The kayak wobbled and our paddles collided in the air until we coordinated our strokes. Then we glided.

My heart pounded and everything came at me at once. The cold water, the warm salt air, the bold blue sky. I looked straight ahead at Bucket Island, with its evergreens and birch trees. I reached over and skimmed my hand on top of the water.

But Superior wouldn’t stop barking, so we turned back. We watched her pace, her neck stretched so far that it looked as if it could snap.

“We’re coming!” When we were only thirty feet away, she jumped, crashing into the water, and swam toward us, her black and white snout just above the surface.

Everything happened fast. Superior tried to climb onto the kayak, her nails scraping and sliding. I panicked and leaned toward her, and we tipped. I went headfirst into the water, the shocking cold freezing my face, my breath. But I bobbed to the surface. Ian was in the water, too. The kayak floated upside down beside us.

“Let’s get Superior to the dock,” he said. We swam on either side of her. It had been a long time since she’d swum this far.

“Come on, you can do it,” I said.

In a few minutes we reached the dock. I tried coaxing Superior up the ladder but she wouldn’t go. Ian climbed up; then I did and she followed. On the dock she shook and
water flew everywhere. She sat and looked at me, panting heavily. I kissed her wet nose.

Ian jumped back in after the kayak and paddles. Superior and I climbed onto the rocks and sand. I waded into the water and helped him flip the kayak and lift it out.

“That was wild!” Ian collapsed onto the dock, laughing. “You go much faster with two people paddling! Next time we’ll take it around the Point.”

I wrung out the bottom of my shirt and pulled my wet shorts away from me. I curtsied and Ian cracked up.

Twice in one week I’d gone into the water and nothing bad had happened. If I hadn’t reached for Superior, we wouldn’t have tipped. Maybe we
could
go around the Point. I’d done it!

“We went flying into the water!” Ian kept laughing. “That was so much fun.”

I grinned. Then we sat in the sun, quiet. Ian lay on his back, his arms and legs spread, his eyes closed. The year before, Annie had put him on her list of the top five cutest boys in our class. Kendra Willet said she held hands with him at the movies.

But I knew that at any moment, he could do something jerky. Maybe break something. People didn’t just
change
all of a sudden.

I looked at his freckles and long fingers and the way his chin pushed out. He was kind of cute, I guessed, as long as he was just lying there. I could tell I was blushing. I stretched out next to him and let the sun dry me.

After a while Dad called to us, and Ian followed me onto our porch. We told Dad about the kayak.

“Then Superior jumped into the water and tried to get up and we tipped over.” Ian laughed. “It was so cool!”

“Your first wet exit.” Dad grinned. “Did you like kayaking?”

“Yes. Except I was worried about Superior.”

“Take her with you next time,” Dad said. I nodded.

“You should see Superior swim,” Ian said. “She’s so strong. And she follows Lucy everywhere. I wish I had a dog like her.”

“We’re lucky,” Dad said.

Ian smiled, then looked around the porch. Our cottage was different from his house. What did he think about the water stains on the ceiling? The mildew smell?

What did he think about me?

“Well, I should go,” he said. “See you!”

I watched as he opened the porch door, then walked onto the road.

“Seems like you two have finally become friends,” Dad said.

“We went kayaking, that’s all.” My cheeks were hot, so I hurried across the porch and climbed the stairs to my room.

My shorts and shirt were dry but inside my pocket the money was still damp. I took out the bills and spread them across my desk. Next time I’d wear my bathing suit.

I jerked my head up. Next time!

Were
we friends now?

auren and Stevie were in their suits when I arrived to babysit, so we walked down to the water. The tide was low and they waded out, looking for shells. I kept glancing at Ian’s house but it was closed up tight.

I’d brought my notebook and bird book, but Lauren didn’t want to draw.

“Let’s play house,” she said. We draped towels over the railing on their dock, making a house. Lauren and I sat underneath while Stevie filled a bucket, brought it to us and dumped it out on the dock. Water, sand and rocks spewed across the wood.

“Dinner!” he said.

We pretended to eat, gushing over how good it was. He giggled, waddled back down the dock and filled his bucket. We did this over and over.

The air was hot, humid and still. We were sweating as the
sun forced its way through tiny holes in the towels. I faced the Debacle so I could see if anyone went in or out. “Can’t we do something else?”

“No!” they both said. Stevie waddled up and dumped the bucket.

Lauren pretended to eat. “These pork chops are scrump delicious.”

I laughed. The game was real to them.

When I finished babysitting, I walked past Mrs. Richards, who was opening her car door. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hello, Lucy. Superior.”

I suddenly had so many questions that I didn’t know where to start. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Did you have a stepmom?”

Her cloudy eyes widened. “My dad remarried sixteen months after my mom died. She and my dad are still married, although I don’t have much of a relationship with her.”