“Wow,” Merry said, very impressed now.
“The fact that you’re Jim’s sister helped, but you would have gotten the required sponsorship anyway, knowing you, Merry.”
Merry beamed at me.
“I’m proud of you, Shortcake!” I grinned.
“Unless they changed anything, Thursday afternoons are practices,” Lynette pointed out. “Will you have trouble getting to and from school before school starts?”
Merry said, “Jackie told me about the practices on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Lynette smiled. “Sherry got her way! I’m happy.”
“Huh?” I asked, confused.
“If Sherry had her way, she’d have practices every day, just like the football team. She’s getting there.”
I nodded.
Lynette shrugged. “Sherry would make a much better captain.” She sighed, and then said, “Will you need a ride during the summer, Merry?”
“Oh, I can ride my bike,” Merry said.
“What if it rains?” my mother asked.
“Oh!” Merry said, not having expected that question.
“Practices are held inside the gym when it rains,” Lynette explained. “I have a late class on Tuesdays, so I can’t be any help.”
“Me, too,” said Kristen.
Merry looked at me, but I didn’t drive, and without Lynette or Kristen, I didn’t have anybody that could drive her except the limo driver I used, or Harry from the main house. Neither of those were really mine to offer.
Merry noticed my hesitation and then shifted her attention to my mother.
“What time, Merry?” my mother asked.
“Noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays, until four.”
“Four hours?” Lynette asked, pleasantly surprised.
“Until school starts,” Merry said. “Then it’s two until four thirty.”
“Way to go, Sherry!” Lynette said, happily. “I have Thursdays available. Maybe I’ll give Sherry a call to see if she can use a hand. I’d love to help out!”
“I think that I can be around to drive you if the weather is bad,” my mother assured Merry.
I laughed. “The Varsity Cheerleading Squad, starring Sherry and Merry!”
Everybody at the table laughed at that.
My mother decided to change the subject. She turned to Kristen, who hadn’t said much, and said, “Jim says that you’re building him a music studio.”
“It’s already built,” Kristen said. “I’m now in the process of getting equipment. I got a good second-hand amplifier for the electric piano. He needs a mixer and some other stuff.”
“That sounds expensive,” my step-father said.
Kristen shrugged. “What’s the use of having money if I can’t spend it? Most of the stuff we’re getting is second-hand. The beauty is that if we decide to get rid of it, I already know who the second-hand dealers are.”
My step-father didn’t have any response to that.
“Jim plays beautifully,” Lynette said. This was echoed by most of the other people at the table, to my embarrassment.
“I taught him piano at an early age,” Mom said. “He picked it up quickly, reading music almost before he could read words.”
I shrugged. “You make me sound like a child prodigy.”
My mother shrugged as well. “Your music teacher, Mr. Proilet, says you are one of the most talented musicians he’s ever met.”
Very embarrassed, I said, “I think he’s exaggerating.”
“He most certainly is not,” Kristen said, her voice sounding very stern. “My mom taught me piano at that age, too, Jim. I just never really cared for playing, because she kept me playing classics like the ’Moonlight Sonata.’ You have a love of music that transcends anything I’ve seen. You even made my mother sound like a professional musician at my birthday party!”
“She was a professional musician when she met your father,” I pointed out.
“Mom hasn’t performed in twenty years!”
Everybody at the table watched Kristen and I, their faces fascinated. I think this was one of the first times we ever had a minor disagreement in public.
“Your mother could read music, and I’m pretty sure she actually sang that song herself at one time,” I said. “Did you know that the arrangement that Mr. Proilet gave me was an adaptation of the one that Barry Manilow did for Bette Midler?”
“Stop changing the subject!” Kristen said, raising her voice. “Can’t you admit that you’re a great musician?”
I looked around, and saw that everybody was watching the two of us. “OK, Kris. I’m sorry. I just don’t like it when people…”
“I know, honey,” Kristen said softly. She turned to my mother and said, “I’m sorry for raising my voice. It just hurts me when Jim says things like that about himself.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” my mother said.
“Please, Mom,” I said, “it’s not a problem. I just get uncomfortable when people tell me how good I am. Mr. Thurd used to say it all the time in junior high, and he kept pushing me, having me learn how to arrange music, how to write vocal parts, how to do sight transposition. It was boring! I did it just to shut him up.”
Of course, I didn’t mention it, but since learning all those “boring things,” I enjoyed music even more.
Kristen shook her head. “This year, you were outstanding. You dominated all the concerts and the school musical was fantastic!”
I finally smiled. “That’s because you were there, Kris.”
That compliment earned me a kiss from my favorite blonde Goddess.
I think everybody at the table seemed quite relieved that our minor disagreement abated.
“I’m sorry, Jim,” Kristen said, quietly. “I know you hate hearing Oogie Stories. You also are uncomfortable when people say nice things about you. I think you’re sweet.”
Merry’s father decided to move the conversation to a safer subject. He said, “Lynette, you said you were going to college locally.”
“I’m attending the community college with Kristen. We’re both taking business classes, as is Patty Nadal.”
Merry said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, Lynette. I heard you received a scholarship to Hofstra.”
Lynette smiled. “I received a partial scholarship there, and one of the professors was thinking about starting a dance program there. I discussed it with my parents, who really couldn’t afford the tuition, and with some of my friends. I really wanted to major in business, and Kristen convinced me to tag along with her for a couple of years at the community college. It’s cheaper and more convenient to where I’m living.”
“Patty’s also taking business courses there,” I said. “She’s going to minor in art.”
“I think Kristen has plans for all of us when we get out of college,” Lynette said mischievously.
“Oh?” Kristen asked, innocently. “I’ve got plans?”
Chapter 30—Injury