“Sh…” Merry said, and interrupted herself, remembering where she was and she turned sheepishly to my mother, and corrected herself. “I mean, may I, Mommy?”
My mother smiled and said, “Sure, Merry. We’ll be having dinner at six. Can you be back by five so you can help with the salad?”
“That won’t be a problem, Mrs. Cummings,” Kristen answered. “Are there any groceries or anything that you would like me to pick up?”
My mother looked a bit taken aback. “I… um… it never even occurred to me that anybody would…” She stopped and looked thoughtful. “Do you think you can pick up some Italian bread?”
“No problem,” Kristen said. “There’s a bakery near…”
“Oh, pooh!” Mom said. “It’s cheaper at the grocery store.”
“But the bakery has better quality. Your spaghetti sauce deserves the best, Mrs. Cummings.”
Again, my mother was impressed. “If you insist…”
“I insist,” Kristen said firmly.
Kristen, Merry, and I walked out through the foyer and outside. As we approached the car, Kristen turned to me “Jim, I was thinking of taking Merry to Martin’s.”
Martin’s was an upscale dress store in the mall that Kristen was particularly fond of patronizing. That kind of shopping didn’t really appeal to me, and Kristen’s explanation was a cue to me that I might not want to go with the two of them. I said, “I have some arrangements that I’d like to work on, if you don’t really need me.”
Kristen apparently expected my response. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and told Merry to sit in the front.
I felt a little disappointed that I wasn’t with Kristen, but maybe Kris and Merry wanted some private time together. I wouldn’t deny them the opportunity, and I did have quite a lot of work that I made for myself that I needed to get done, especially with a deadline in less than two weeks.
After the Camaro left, my step-father noticed that I was still in the driveway. “Kristen left you?”
“She’s taking Merry to the mall. I have some music to arrange.”
“Will she be around for dinner?” he asked, thinking that there may have been something wrong.
“They’ll both be here at five,” I assured him.
“OK, son.”
I smiled at him, and thought about our relationship. I liked the man, and he was a good husband to my mother. He doted on Merry and although he thought that teenage boys should have a firmer hand guiding them than I preferred, he was ultimately fair.
His daughter, Merry, and I were much closer. I actually enjoyed being around her. I could even say that I loved her. I wondered why I couldn’t apply that verb to my relationship with my step-father. Somehow, we never really clicked that way. As I said, he was a decent man, but I would never call him “father.” There was just too much bad history with another person with that title for me to apply it to any warm blooded creature.
My plans for a few hours’ time alone writing music were dashed when the doorbell rang about an hour and a half after Kristen left.
My mother answered the door, and then came upstairs after she found herself unsuccessful in arousing me. I was in my bedroom with my headphones on with my electric piano on a stand that my step-father and I put together with spare lumber in the garage during my Christmas vacation.
I was startled when somebody tapped my shoulder, and I turned around quickly, startling my mother. “I’m sorry, Jim. You have more company.”
I ran downstairs to see Camille and Patty in the living room.
“Hey, Jim!” the girls said.
“Hey you guys. What’s up?”
“Is Kristen here?” Patty asked.
“No. She’s at the mall with Merry. Were you looking for her?”
Both girls seemed relieved. “We thought so,” Patty said. “We didn’t see the Camaro and were hoping you’d be home. We rarely see you without Kristen on weekends.”
“What’s up?”
Camille noticed my mother coming down the stairs. “Can we go for a ride?”
I looked at my mother, who only shrugged at me. “I need to be back before five.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Patty said.
I was intrigued and wondered what the two girls were up to.
Camille’s red Corolla was parked in the driveway. Patty indicated that I take the front seat, and she sat behind me.
Camille backed out of the driveway and said, “Jim, the two of us would like to thank you for your efforts to bring Patty and I closer together.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”
“Bullshit!” Patty said, laughing. “You’re modest, and that’s what we all love about you. We spent all day Thursday just talking. It’s as if we became best friends all over again!”
“You did it yourselves,” I said, not wanting to take the credit.
“Anyway, that’s not why we kidnapped you,” Camille said.
“Kidnap?” I said. I saw humor in Camille’s eyes, though.
“Wendy called Cammy and told her about Kristen’s party,” Patty said, ignoring Camille. “We wanted to know if we could do anything to help?”
“I was trying to write some arrangements for some rock and roll and Henry Mancini songs for the jazz band to play at the party when you girls kidnapped me!”
“Oh,” Patty said, suddenly thoughtful. She seemed as if she was ready to say something, but held her tongue.
I sighed, figuring that I might actually have to end up staying up late a few nights to get them done. There were only two weeks, and two Thursday afternoons for the band to practice. There was also the problem of keeping Kristen from those practice sessions.
Suddenly, another idea formed. “Patty, Cammy… could you hijack Kristen for the next two Thursday afternoons? I would like the band to play some special music for her party and we need to practice.”
Camille frowned. “Cheerleader practice on Thursdays…”
Patty said, “I can come up with a couple of ideas, but she will be suspicious if I do it two weeks in a row.”
I agreed. “You’re probably right. Maybe just the Thursday after next.”
“I can come up with something,” Patty said.
I turned to look at Patty and saw a sly grin on her face. “Anyway, both of you are invited, with your boyfriends, if you have them.”
“You hinted that the jazz band will be there,” Patty said. “That’s who I would have invited.”
Camille smirked. “You’re dating the entire band? That sounds like one of my tricks!”
Patty and I laughed at that.
I was still confused about where Patty and Camille were taking me. We were heading toward the center of town.
Camille found a parking spot on Main Street. I was familiar with that area, but didn’t have any idea what their intentions were.
Patty and Camille led me to a door that read “American Legion.”
“This is where Kristen’s dad is having the party…”
“He hired it this weekend, too,” Patty said.
“Huh?”
“Go upstairs,” Camille directed.
Upstairs, a good majority of the jazz band, as well as a couple of extra people from the chorus and some other friends were assembled. There were some instruments. Even Amy Grant was situated behind an old upright piano that looked as if it was part of the legion hall.
Toby walked over to me and said, “Hey, Jim! Mr. Swift rented us the room for the next two weekends so we could practice here before the party.”
“Huh?” I said, still not comprehending.
“Hey, son!” came a voice behind me. It was Kristen’s father.
“Mr. Swift?” I asked.