and his chest was broad and tan with a patch of hair in the middle. The word that came to mind was brawny. It might have been a touch longer than a quick glance.
He saw me looking, and raised his arm in greeting. I copied him, and Celia pulled my hand down and pinned it to my side.
“Why can’t I wave at a cute boy? What’s the harm?”
“Shh!” Celia sped up until we were past his house, and she wouldn’t talk to me until we had turned onto Tulip Avenue.
“What was that about?”
Celia rolled her eyes at me. She could be a world champion eye roller. “You’re going to have to find a different cute boy to flirt with. That was Malcolm Dearing.”
“Oh, of course. Malcolm Dearing.” We walked in silence for a bit. “Who’s Malcolm Dearing? Is he your arch nemesis?” I thought that could be a fun development.
“Fay. Dearing? Dad works for Dearing Plastics. Malcolm’s dad is my dad’s boss.”
“You’re not allowed to talk to the boss’s family?”
“I can’t believe you don’t remember. Last summer? It was all our parents talked about when you came to visit.”
I remembered a lot about that visit: Wading in the creek and seeing that snake, Celia curling my hair, walking in the woods and getting a tick on the back of my leg, badminton in the yard, a water balloon fight with Abe. I had not sat around and listened to the adults talk about the Dearing family.
Celia sighed, out of patience with me already, at seven forty-five in the morning. “Mr. Dearing hates my dad. It’s like a personal vendetta. He called the police on my parents last summer, when they were just having a fight, like all parents fight.”
Not mine. I had no experience with parental arguments, because my parents never fought in front of me. If they had, their possible divorce might not have come as such a shock. “So Malcolm is your arch nemesis.”
She gave me a stern look. “Anyway, they were just having an argument in the yard one night, and Mr. Dearing walked past our house. He called the police to come out for a domestic dispute . The police. For an argument. It was ridiculous. After that happened, Dad says Mr. Dearing treats him like garbage at work. Mom told Abe and me we shouldn’t talk to any of the Dearings now, so we won’t give Mr. Dearing any ammunition.”
The wind picked up and blew the hair off my neck for a moment. It felt good, as the morning was already intolerable with heat and humidity. The heat lit a spark of mischief in me. “What if we’re swimming at Esta’s pond, and you start to drown and the only person nearby is Malcolm Dearing? Can I ask him to go for help?”
Celia rolled her eyes again. I wondered if a person could get an eyeball cramp. “He wouldn’t be welcome at Esta’s pond.”
“Okay, well what if you run over the Dearings’ cat on your bike? Can you go to their door to bring them their cat corpse?”
“You are morbid and insane,” Celia said, but she almost cracked a smile. “I don’t think they have a cat.”
“What if Mrs. Dearing wins the lottery and insists that every employee of her husband’s plastics factory gets a cut? Would you be allowed to accept the money?” That did it, Celia smiled. I smiled too; pleased that I had pulled her out of the dark mood she’d been in since last night.
We turned one more corner, and Heidi’s Restaurant sat in front of us, squat and crooked. Even aside from its questionable structure, it was still an eyesore, painted cotton candy pink with a yellow front door. Celia led me around the side of the building to the dirty back door. “Heidi doesn’t like employees to enter through the front.”
We walked through the kitchen, past a large man frying bacon at a grill, to a closet in the corner. Celia dug around in a drawer and pulled out a black apron, stiff with grease and dirt, which she half-heartedly dusted off and handed to
He saw me looking, and raised his arm in greeting. I copied him, and Celia pulled my hand down and pinned it to my side.
“Why can’t I wave at a cute boy? What’s the harm?”
“Shh!” Celia sped up until we were past his house, and she wouldn’t talk to me until we had turned onto Tulip Avenue.
“What was that about?”
Celia rolled her eyes at me. She could be a world champion eye roller. “You’re going to have to find a different cute boy to flirt with. That was Malcolm Dearing.”
“Oh, of course. Malcolm Dearing.” We walked in silence for a bit. “Who’s Malcolm Dearing? Is he your arch nemesis?” I thought that could be a fun development.
“Fay. Dearing? Dad works for Dearing Plastics. Malcolm’s dad is my dad’s boss.”
“You’re not allowed to talk to the boss’s family?”
“I can’t believe you don’t remember. Last summer? It was all our parents talked about when you came to visit.”
I remembered a lot about that visit: Wading in the creek and seeing that snake, Celia curling my hair, walking in the woods and getting a tick on the back of my leg, badminton in the yard, a water balloon fight with Abe. I had not sat around and listened to the adults talk about the Dearing family.
Celia sighed, out of patience with me already, at seven forty-five in the morning. “Mr. Dearing hates my dad. It’s like a personal vendetta. He called the police on my parents last summer, when they were just having a fight, like all parents fight.”
Not mine. I had no experience with parental arguments, because my parents never fought in front of me. If they had, their possible divorce might not have come as such a shock. “So Malcolm is your arch nemesis.”
She gave me a stern look. “Anyway, they were just having an argument in the yard one night, and Mr. Dearing walked past our house. He called the police to come out for a domestic dispute . The police. For an argument. It was ridiculous. After that happened, Dad says Mr. Dearing treats him like garbage at work. Mom told Abe and me we shouldn’t talk to any of the Dearings now, so we won’t give Mr. Dearing any ammunition.”
The wind picked up and blew the hair off my neck for a moment. It felt good, as the morning was already intolerable with heat and humidity. The heat lit a spark of mischief in me. “What if we’re swimming at Esta’s pond, and you start to drown and the only person nearby is Malcolm Dearing? Can I ask him to go for help?”
Celia rolled her eyes again. I wondered if a person could get an eyeball cramp. “He wouldn’t be welcome at Esta’s pond.”
“Okay, well what if you run over the Dearings’ cat on your bike? Can you go to their door to bring them their cat corpse?”
“You are morbid and insane,” Celia said, but she almost cracked a smile. “I don’t think they have a cat.”
“What if Mrs. Dearing wins the lottery and insists that every employee of her husband’s plastics factory gets a cut? Would you be allowed to accept the money?” That did it, Celia smiled. I smiled too; pleased that I had pulled her out of the dark mood she’d been in since last night.
We turned one more corner, and Heidi’s Restaurant sat in front of us, squat and crooked. Even aside from its questionable structure, it was still an eyesore, painted cotton candy pink with a yellow front door. Celia led me around the side of the building to the dirty back door. “Heidi doesn’t like employees to enter through the front.”
We walked through the kitchen, past a large man frying bacon at a grill, to a closet in the corner. Celia dug around in a drawer and pulled out a black apron, stiff with grease and dirt, which she half-heartedly dusted off and handed to
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