John D. MacDonald
Very Junior Miss
At Sunday breakfast Kilty Morrow became aware of the look of baffled disapproval on her mother’s face. She sighed heavily and said, “What is it, Mother?”
“Your hair, child,” Laura said.
“Here we go again,” Walter Morrow muttered without looking up from the paper.
“Mother, my hair is as clean as can be,” Kilty said.
“Kilty, you’re going to be sixteen in three weeks, and look at you! You don’t have any pride. You’re a nice-looking girl, and for all you care...”
“How about Friday night, Mother? How about that?”
“Now don’t start using that argumentative tone of voice with me, young lady. Friday night you looked lovely for about half an hour. It took me two full hours to coerce you into that condition. In two minutes you got a smudged face and a torn dress. When I was your age...”
Walter sighed so deeply that Laura turned and stared at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“For one moment, my dear, it sounded like a phrase I’d heard before.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm. She’s your daughter too. Most of the time Kilty looks like a — like a coal-heaver.”
“You keep saying that, Mother. What is a coal-heaver?”
“Someone who heaves coal,” Walter said. “Look, kitten, we’re going to the outdoor buffet at the club today. Very probably your mother’s girlhood chum, one Marie Birch, will be there, complete with husband and daughter. Sandra Birch, whom your mother is about to mention as being younger than you, will look very chic, no doubt.”
“Oh, her!” Kilty said with unlimited scorn. “Birchie isn’t any fun any more. Boys, boys, boys. Enough to make you sick. Say, you know what she does at night? She told me. She has horrible mitten things and she fills them with glop to make her hands pretty and sleeps with them on. How about that?”
“Kilty Morrow, you are going with us to the club and you are going to do something about that hair and you are going to wear your green dress. Is that quite clear?”
“Mother, that’s so pointless! I’ll be in the pool most of the time. And for the Sunday buffet you can eat in your suit. All the other kids will. And Tommy has been helping me work on my jackknife. I wasn’t getting high enough off the board, and—”
“The green dress, Kilty.”
“Oh, all right!” Kilty said.
Walter gave her a meaningful stare. Kilty blushed and said, “I didn’t mean to speak like that, Mother.”
“All right, dear. Now go on upstairs and brush your hair. I’ll be up in a few minutes and see what we can do with it.”
Kilty slouched out of the breakfast room, her slim shoulders slumped with depression.
“Really, Walter, I don’t get any more co-operation from you than I’d get from a graven image.”
“Maybe I just don’t think it’s a serious problem, honey.”
“How can you say that? I actually had less trouble with Andy when he was twelve, keeping him neat, than I’m having with Kilty.”
“Someday Andy will bring a friend back from school with him and you’ll see Kilty start to glow.”
“I’m glad you think so. I don’t want my daughter to turn out to be one of those big back-slapping women.”
“When Kilty starts to become highly conscious of herself as a member of the female species, Laura, I’m going to feel a little sad. It will mean that both of our kids have turned into adults. And after all these years of wishing the process would go a little faster, I’m now beginning to wonder if we won’t feel just a little bit lost.”
Laura stood up. “Well, I’d better get up there before she forgets what she’s supposed to be doing.”
Walter took her hand, squeezed it lightly. “Don’t worry so much, honey. She’s got good long legs and lovely eyes. Your eyes, as a matter of fact.”
“Silly old goat,” Laura said. She leaned over and kissed him.
On the way to the club Kilty sat morosely in the back, staring at her green skirt. The other kids wouldn’t be dressed up. Sandra and the older ones would, but they seemed to like it. People should be allowed, she decided, to dress the way they felt. Now there wouldn’t even be time for a swim before they had to eat.
Walter parked by the door to let them out before taking the car out into the lot. They waited for him inside the entrance. Laura looked at her and said. “You look very nice, dear. When you walk, please try to hold your head up and take shorter steps.”
Tommy came in with his mother. He wore dungarees and a white shirt and carried his swimming trunks wrapped in a towel. Tommy’s mother paused to chat with Laura. Tommy stared at Kilty. Then he rolled his eyes up as his knees sagged.
“Water, water!” he said hoarsely.
Kilty doubled her fist and banged him on the arm muscle. “You shut up!”
“Hey, watch it!” Tommy said indignantly. “That hurt!”
“Don’t scuffle, children,” Tommy’s mother said casually. Kilty glanced at her mother and was alarmed by the look of steel in her eyes.
They went out through the club and found a table by the pool. The buffet was already set up and members were filling their plates.
“The sooner we eat, the sooner I can swim,” Kilty said.
“Just be patient for a little while, dear,” Laura said.
Walter looked beyond Laura. His mouth opened and his eyes bulged a little. “What,” he said, “is that?”
Kilty and Laura turned and saw a group of a dozen girls wearing identical coral-colored bathing suits just starting through the buffet line.
“Gosh, maybe it’s a water show!” Kilty said.
“No-o-o,” Walter said judiciously, “females who swim professionally and look like that are the exception rather than the rule.”
“Now I remember!” Laura said. “In the bulletin. They’re having a style show today.”
“Had I known that,” Walter said, “you couldn’t have dragged me here in chains. But after seeing the merchandise. I find that I am not even reluctant.”
“A style show! Who wants to see a style show?” Kilty said.
“A great many people want to. Your father, for one,” Laura said. She glanced toward the doorway. “There’s Marie now, with Sandra. Doesn’t Sandra look sweet? Of course, the poor child’s eyes are terribly close together.”
“Sleeping with her hands in bags of glop,” Kilty muttered.
Walter, with bemused expression, watched the twelve girls carry their plates to the big table that had been set up for them. He noticed that they were escorted by a young man who wore exceedingly bright clothes and by a chunky woman with short jet hair. The girls were uniformly slim, trim and lovely.
“Hmmm,” Walter said warmly.
“I think we should eat now,” Laura said.
The meal was rather silent. A few people wandered over to the table to chat. A piano was lugged out onto the patio and an electrician set up a microphone near it.
Kilty said, “Please, can I go put my suit on now?”
“But you can’t swim for an hour, dear.”
“I’ll work on my tan, Mother.”
“But see where they’ve put that little platform? Right by the edge of the pool. You’ll be able to see the style show perfectly from here.”
“But, Mother, if I’m by the pool I’ll be even closer, won’t I?”
Laura stared at her daughter. She lifted her shoulders, sighed as she dropped them. “Well, go ahead. If you must.”
Kilty trotted off before anybody’s mind changed. She whistled as she went down the locker-room aisle, swinging her beach bag. As she wormed her way into her suit, she saw the models and the chunky dark woman come in.