SVH07-Dear Sister (11 page)

Well, well, well,
thought Bruce.
So you're in my power, huh?

Bruce kissed her. Then again, harder. Elizabeth responded by throwing her arms around his neck.

"You're wonderful, Liz," Bruce murmured.

The music slowed down, and the lights grew dim as the evening progressed. Elizabeth danced steadily with Bruce Patman, her head comfortably on his chest.

When Jessica realized it, she managed to pry

Elizabeth away for a moment.
"
Liz
,"
she whispered.

"Hmmm?"

"Liz, you know you're dancing with Bruce Patman?"

"Isn't he wonderful?" Elizabeth murmured. "Wonderful?
Bruce Patman?"

"Yes. I'm very interested in him."

"But you hate him, Lizzie."

"Who told you that?"

"You did, a hundred and thirty-seven times."

"Silly," said Elizabeth. "Go away."

Jessica kept her eye on Elizabeth and Bruce after that as they kept dancing cheek to cheek under the palms. She couldn't believe it. Jessica might be able to handle that obnoxious, pushy creep, but could her unpredictable sister?

"What's the matter?" Lila Fowler asked later, when she saw Jessica frowning.

"My sister and Bruce," Jessica said.

"They seem to be a new item," said Lila. "My pickup parties surprise even me sometimes."

"Well, he seems to be behaving himself," Jessica said. "So far."

It was another of those impossible evenings for Jessica, when she found her own fun utterly destroyed by having to worry about her sister. Was this what used to happen to Elizabeth? Had Jessica run around irresponsibly so that Elizabeth was forever watching out for her? Jessica vowed that if her sister ever returned to her

sweet old self, she'd never give her cause to worry again.

Bruce Patman was becoming more and more intrigued as the evening wore on. He'd kissed Elizabeth--and not only hadn't she pushed him away, she'd responded. Enthusiastically.

"I didn't think you liked me," he said.

"Why shouldn't I?" purred Elizabeth.

"No reason. But you always used to be stuck-up and afraid to do anything."

"That's not me."

"What would you like to do?"

"Anything you want."

"Really?"

"Sure, Bruce, honey."

Bruce laughed with abandon. Elizabeth laughed with him.

"This is going to be some kind of night, Liz," he said. "I hope so," she said.

"You want to go to my dad's club with me?"

"Sure."

"It's down on the beach," he said.

"I don't care if it's on the moon," Elizabeth said recklessly.

A little while later Jessica looked around and could find no trace of her sister. Bruce Patman was gone, too.
Uh-oh,
she thought, and made the rounds of the Fowler house looking for them.

There was no sign of them on the dance floor, at the buffet table in the dining room, or

around the bandstand. She checked the cars parked around the curving front drive but found only other couples who didn't appreciate being disturbed.

Finally she ran to Lila. "Have you seen Liz?"

"She's with Bruce."

"But I can't find them, Lila."

"Oh, I think they left, Jess. They went to Bruce's father's club with some of the kids."

"Oh, no," said Jessica. She looked around anxiously, wondering what to do. Then her eyes fell upon the only one she could trust.

"Todd, it's Liz and Bruce. They've left together."

Todd didn't have to be told another word. "Where?" he asked sharply. "I think to Bruce's father's club--down on the beach."

"OK," he said, and ran to his car.

Bruce Patman's sleek black Porsche moved swiftly through the night. Elizabeth had glued herself to his side. He couldn't believe it. She was really his for the taking.

He parked the Porsche carefully under the redwood overhang on the beach side of the Driftwood Club, and Elizabeth reached for the handle of the door.

"Don't, baby," Bruce whispered, pulling her hand away from the door.

"But, Bruce, the other kids are already going in," she said, glancing out the window. "We don't want to miss any of the party, do we?" she asked, her voice showing the effect of the liquor Bruce had given her at Lila's.

"We could have our own party, just the two of us," he suggested in a husky voice.

"But I want some wine." She giggled. "Wine makes me feel soooooo good." She snuggled against him.

"I've got enough wine right here in the car to make you feel
very
good, sweet Liz." He pulled her closer, kissing her on her slender, vulnerable neck.

"Oh, I like that! Sweet Liz, that's me!" She giggled again. "And I like whatever it is you're doing to my neck."

For the twentieth time that night, Bruce Patman wondered how he had gotten so lucky. Elizabeth Wakefield was about to melt in his arms. It would take just a little more to drink and just a little more time.

"As soon as the gang gets into the club, I'll take care of more than your neck," he promised. "Have some wine, my sweet Liz." He reached behind his seat and pulled out an already opened bottle, as well as a paper cup. Filling the cup, he handed it to her, then took a swig from the bottle.

He kept his arm around Elizabeth as she greedily drank down the warm wine. "I've got a

blanket in the trunk," he whispered into her ear. "We'll take the wine and the blanket and go down to the beach and--"

The door on the driver's side was suddenly jerked open, and Bruce felt a hard hand on his arm dragging him away from Elizabeth and out of the car. The bottle of wine fell to the ground and shattered.

"What the--" was all Bruce got out before he felt a fist on his jaw. The blow left him out cold on the driveway.

"What are you doing, Bruce?" Elizabeth's speech was slurred, and she tried to focus her eyes on the dim form that was looking down at her. "What happened to our party?"

"The party's over, Liz. I'm taking you home." Todd pulled her gently from the Porsche and guided her to his beat-up car. She was so unsteady on her feet that Todd was almost carrying her. Todd settled her in the car, buckled the safety belt around her, and got into the driver's seat. He had just started the car when Elizabeth sat up straight, recognizing him at last.

"You know, Todd, you're getting to be a real party pooper," she slurred just before she passed out.

Thirteen

"Stay right where you are, young lady," Alice Wakefield said in a tone Jessica was very familiar with.

"Don't you want me to clear the table?" Jessica asked hopefully. She didn't think she was going to escape the coming lecture, but it was worth a try.

"Sit down, Jessica," Ned Wakefield said sternly.

Jessica knew she was really in for it if her father was going to get involved in the discussion.

"First, Jessica, suppose you tell us why you didn't inform us of the speeding ticket and the dent in the car when you got home on Saturday," her mother said.

Jessica shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She knew why she hadn't told them. They would

have started yelling and lecturing, but she could have handled that. The real reason for her silence was the grounding she knew would come. She hadn't wanted to miss Lila's party. And it was a darn good thing she
had
been there. Who knew what would have happened between Elizabeth and Bruce if she hadn't sent Todd after them? She'd been very responsible that night, and where had it gotten her--in trouble again. It just wasn't fair!

"I was going to tell you about it sooner, really I was," Jessica began in her own defense. "But I--"

"But what?"

"Well, I know you have so many things on your minds these days, and I just didn't want to add to your worries." She didn't really think they would buy that, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Your consideration for our feelings overwhelms me, Jessica," her father said dryly.

"Oh, all right! I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't see my side of it. I
knew
you would ground me. Why don't you pass judgment and sentence me without going through the motions of a hearing?" Jessica said, somewhere between tears and anger.

"Jessica, you can't expect us to ignore the reckless and irresponsible way you were driving," Alice said.

"But it wasn't as bad as it looks, honest! I wasn't going all that fast, and the dent wasn't

really my fault," she pleaded, looking from one parent to the other.

"Seventy miles an hour isn't all that fast?" her father queried, arching one eyebrow.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wakefield."

The three Wakefields turned toward the doorway of the kitchen and saw Jean and Joan looking at them.

"What is it, girls?" Ned Wakefield asked.

"Could we talk to you for a minute?"

"Can it wait until we finish talking to Jessica?"

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Joan said.

Just what I need
,
Jessica thought.
With those two on the witness stand, I'll
probably get sent to the electric chair.

"OK, come in, girls. You were with Jessica that day. Maybe you can tell us what happened."

"Jessica couldn't have been going as fast as the policeman said she was," Jean stated. "It's not possible."

Mr. Wakefield smiled at them. "I know you want to help Jess, but she was tracked by radar. She
was
doing seventy."

"She couldn't have been, Mr. Wakefield. Those radar guns sometimes make mistakes. My dad told me that once a big old oak tree was clocked at forty miles an hour."

"And besides that," Joan put in, "I always get carsick at high speeds, and I felt just fine that day."

Jessica blinked in astonishment. They were defending her. They were actually on
her
side.

"And about that dent," Joan continued. "Jessica started backing out first. That man in the other car was more to blame than she was."

"It looks like you have a couple of pretty good defense attorneys," Ned Wakefield said, smiling. "What do you think, Alice?"

"I think you and I may have overreacted, Ned," she answered. "Perhaps this was a case of carelessness, not recklessness." She turned to Jessica, catching the look of total relief. "But don't think you're off the hook entirely, young lady. There will be a punishment. Your father and I will discuss this further and talk to you about it later."

Jessica smiled happily. She could hardly believe her good luck. "Thanks, Mom and Dad. Thanks so much! You have my solemn promise that I'll never go even a half mile over the speed limit again!" She threw her arms around her mother, hugging her tightly.

Alice Wakefield found it impossible not to laugh along with her daughter. Disentangling herself, she suggested, "Don't you think you should save some of the thanks for your two friends?" She nodded in the direction of Joan and Jean as she and Mr. Wakefield left the room.

Jessica eyed the two girls for a moment. What in the world was she supposed to say to them?

The twins exchanged glances and then looked at Jessica.

"We're sorry we were so much trouble for you, Jessica," said Joan. "Trouble?"

"Well, you know, the night of the drive-in and then again with the auditions."

"Well, I'm sorry I yelled at you so much,'-' Jessica said.

"Oh, that's all right," Joan said.

"We get yelled at lots more sometimes. That was nothing."

"Really? Your parents yell at you?"

"Oh, no," said Joan.

"Never," added Jean.

"It's Mr. Minor, our flute teacher. Boy, he's nuclear!" They both giggled.

"Besides, we never had so much fun," said Joan.

"Never," Jean said. "Boy, going to a real drive-in! With making out and everything."

"Wait a minute," Jessica said.

"Nobody ever takes us places like
that
,"
said Joan. "Wait till we tell the kids."

"Listen, you two," Jessica said, "cool it, see? You weren't supposed to be there." But she looked at their solemn little faces and couldn't help laughing.

As Jean and Joan left the room, the closeness between them was obvious. It made Jessica want to cry. She and Elizabeth had been like that,

sharing everything, protecting and sticking up for one another. But not anymore. And she missed that closeness. Losing out on dates, having her parents angry at her--none of that was important. She needed Elizabeth, her sister ... her friend.

"Hey, Liz! Wait up!"

Elizabeth turned around and saw Bill Chase coming down the corridor toward her. He was wearing his usual land outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. His long, straight blond hair was dry for a change, and he was carrying books instead of a surfboard.

"How's the surf these days?" she asked, smiling up at him in a flirty way that took him by surprise.

"Terrific--as usual."

Since he was only truly alive when he surfed or gave surfing lessons, Bill didn't spend much time hanging out with the kids at school. But Todd Wilkins was a good friend of his, so he did know that Todd and Elizabeth were not going together any longer.

Bill remembered how surprised he'd been when Todd told him how cold Elizabeth was being.

"Is it really all over?" he had asked. "What happened?"

"It's over, Bill," Todd had said sadly. "But I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'm not trying to pry, Todd, and I really feel bad for you. Sounds like Elizabeth is acting rotten."

Todd sighed. "No, Bill. But she seems mixed up. If she'd find someone else who's special, that would be one thing. But she just doesn't act like she knows what she's doing."

"Todd, you're really worried about her."

"Yes, I am."

"You know I've always cared about Liz."

"I know."

"I mean, if it's really over between you two, I was wondering if you'd get mad at me if I asked Liz out."

Todd turned away, and Bill thought at first he was really angry. But then Todd sighed again and looked back. The expression on his face wasn't anger. It was worry and sorrow.