Debutante Hill Page 8

  ‘Two jobs!” Lynn exclaimed. “Why, he must be exhausted!”

  “He is,” Anne said, dropping her voice. “Sometimes I think maybe that’s why he’s so hard on Dirk. He’s just so worn out, he can’t relax and take things easy. And Dirk—well, Dirk could be making things easier for him if he wanted to. Other boys work in the afternoons, after school. Look at Ronnie Turner, for instance! But not Dirk; he’s too busy with his own activities.”

  Lynn asked, “Will he be here for dinner?”

  “I certainly hope so,” Anne replied. “If not, this will be the third time this week that he’s missed dinner, and Dad will be furious.”

  But Dirk did not show up. The meal was a hurried one, as Mr. Masters was running slightly behind schedule and had to be at his job in a short time. He bolted his food, scarcely stopping to chew it, got up quickly without excusing himself and snatched his jacket off the back of a nearby chair.

  Now I know where Dirk gets his manners, or lack of them, Lynn thought with distaste. She could not remember ever seeing her father shovel food into his mouth or leave the table before her mother was finished, unless there was an emergency call from the hospital.

  But then, she reminded herself sharply, Daddy’s had advantages Mr. Masters hasn’t enjoyed. Perhaps he was brought up this way and honestly doesn’t know any better.

  Her opinion of him softened as he stopped by her chair and laid a hand briefly on her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you came, Lynn. You and Anne have a good time together. Poor kid, she must get lonely in the evenings with nothing to do and no one to talk to.” He turned to Anne.

  “’Night, baby. Thanks for dinner.”

  “Good night, Dad.” Anne’s face was tender as she rose to give her father a quick kiss. “I’ll have something in the refrigerator for you when you come in.”

  “Fine!” Her father started for the door and then turned back. “When your brother gets in, you can tell him for me—

  “Now, Dad,” Anne broke in gently, “we don’t know what delayed him. I’m sure he has a reason for not getting here in time to eat with us.”

  Her father did not bother to answer. He merely opened the front door and went out, shutting it a little too loudly behind him.

  After helping Anne to do the dishes at the miniature kitchen sink, Lynn wondered what in the world they would find to do to pass the evening. It was only six-thirty and still light outside. There was no television set or record player, and she could not remember seeing even a radio. She glanced at Anne.

  Anne caught the look and interpreted it correctly.

  “There isn’t much to do here in the evening. Usually, I study and read or paint for a while and go to bed early. Sometimes, when Dirk is here, we play cards together. Or I go over to Clara’s, or walk downtown.” Suddenly her face brightened. “Why don’t we go to a movie?”

  “Fine,” Lynn said. “If we leave right away, we can make the early show.”

  They left the dishes stacked in the drying rack and caught the bus at the comer. When they reached the movie theater, she hesitated in the lobby, waiting for Anne to lead the way to where she wanted to sit. She was relieved to see that she did not choose the balcony. Though, there’s no reason why she would, Lynn reminded herself. Anne may be Dirk’s sister, but she certainly doesn’t go around with the disgusting people he does.

  The movie was a long one, and there were a lot of short subjects, so it was nine-thirty by the time they got out. They wandered through town, looking in lighted store windows, and stopped at a drugstore for a Coke before catching the bus for home. By the time they reached the Masters’ house, another hour had passed, and it was almost half-past ten.

  Dirk was sitting in the living room, eating a sandwich. His eyes widened when he saw Lynn.

  “What the heck—”

  Lynn smiled, enjoying his surprise. “Hello, Dirk; we missed you at dinner.”

  “Lynn is spending the night with me.” Anne turned to him accusingly. “We did miss you at dinner, Dirk. Where were you?”

  Dirk said, “Out.”

  “I know ‘out.’ Out where? With that Brad Morgan?”

  “So, what if I was?” Dirk retorted defiantly. “I guess I’m old enough to pick my own friends.” Then his voice softened before the concern in her face. “Don’t worry about me so much, Annie. Be a good kid and run out to the kitchen and fry me a hamburger. I’m starved, and this peanut butter doesn’t exactly hit the spot.”

  “All right, but you don’t deserve it,” Anne said.

  She disappeared into the kitchen.

  Lynn hesitated and then seated herself on the far end of the sofa. The silence was awkward.

  She thought, I should say something—no, why should I be the one? Let Dirk speak first. I’m a guest in his house; let him be polite to me.

  Dirk shifted uncomfortably.

  Finally he said, “So you’re spending the night with Anne? I didn’t know you two were that close friends. I—I—” He fumbled for words. “I’m glad you did come.”

  It was the friendliest thing Dirk had ever said to her.

  Lynn said, “I’m glad, too. I like your sister very much. I didn’t realize before how talented she is. Why these water colors—” She gestured toward the walls. “They’re just wonderful!”

  Dirk brightened, his discomfort seeming to fall away.

  “Aren’t they good? She’s never had any instruction, either. She just picks up a brush and goes to it, and those pictures come out.” His face was gentle when he talked of his sister. “With all the work she does here, the housework and cooking and her schoolwork, you’d never think she’d have time to work on something like that. She’s a great girl. She deserves a lot more than she’s got.”

  “What do you mean?” Lynn asked softly.

  “I mean at school mostly. Anne deserves to be in the clubs and on the student council and at all the parties—you know, one of the Crowd who run things. Just because she’s so quiet and doesn’t come from the Hill doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a lot on the ball!”

  “Yes,” agreed Lynn sincerely, “I realize that now. I never really knew Anne until recently. I guess I was too tied up with my own friends to try to get to know somebody else. But I do know her now, and I’m going to do everything I can to see she’s included in everything that comes along.”

  Dirk was quiet a moment. Then he said, “Thanks.” After a moment, he reached across and put his hand over hers. “About the other evening—I’m sorry.”

  He opened his mouth, as though he were going to say more, and then he closed it again. Lynn felt his hand tremble over hers. She turned toward him and found him looking at her. There was nothing defiant in his eyes now, nothing mocking. She felt strangely confused by the intensity of his gaze.

  “That’s all right, Dirk,” she said, surprised by the tremor in her voice. “I—I guess—Let’s forget about it, shall we?”

  He nodded without speaking.

  They sat there in companionable silence, listening to the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. The little room was warm and cozy in the light from the lamp on the table.

  Lynn thought, I’ve never seen Dirk like this, just relaxed and comfortable and happy. He’s always fighting something when I see him at school, trying to get the best of somebody, to show the world that he doesn’t care. He’s much nicer like this. And much more attractive.

  Later that night, when she lay beside Anne in the narrow bed, Lynn thought about Dirk again.

  He is a nice boy, she decided. Underneath all that hardness, there’s somebody worth knowing. Maybe he’s confused and doesn’t know which direction to take, but that’s because he doesn’t have a mother to help him. People react in different ways to loneliness. Somebody like Anne matures with it and learns to take over and bear up and live things through. But somebody like Dirk, somebody not quite as strong as Anne, can go to pieces.

  She thought, he needs somebody! He really does!

  It was a strang
e thought, Dirk needing somebody.

  Lying there in the cramped bed, listening to Anne’s quiet breathing beside her, it was exciting to think of leading a wandering boy back onto the right path—exciting and inspiring and a tremendous challenge.

  But as sleep came closer and the day’s events slipped further away, it was not Dirk’s handsome face that stayed in her mind. It was another face, one with a square, determined chin and an easy smile and honest blue eyes. Drowsily, Lynn raised her hand, felt for the chain around her throat and slid her fingers down it until they touched the ring.

  “You’re my girl,” Paul had said. “We’ve got something between us worth hanging on to.”

  Oh, Paul, Lynn whispered into the pillow, I miss you! I miss you! I miss you so much!

  And the ache of loneliness inside her was something that nobody else, no matter how much he needed her, could take away.

  7

  When Lynn stepped into her house late the next morning, she felt as though she were returning from a long journey. The city bus dropped her off at the corner of the Hill and River Road and she walked the rest of the way up the Hill toward the house, carrying her small overnight bag.

  The air was crisp and cold, colder than the brisk chill of autumn, more like the beginning breath of winter before the first snow. Sunlight fell, bright and golden, through the half-naked branches of the maples which lined the walk, and the spacious lawns of the houses along the Hill were browning with the touch of frost.

  As she passed the Taylor house, she wondered how the barbecue had gone the night before. She could imagine how it had been, the smell of charcoal rising from the huge outdoor grill in the back yard, the hi-fi playing, the laughter and talking during dinner, the singing afterward and perhaps dancing in the living room, if the night grew too cold for people to want to stay outside.

  I’m glad I wasn’t here, Lynn thought. If I had been, I would have felt so left out. I’m glad I went to Anne’s. I feel as though I know her better now—and Dirk, too.

  She turned in her own driveway and crossed the lawn to the house. She was conscious for the first time of what a large house it was, how wide the front porch, how spacious the front hall, how roomy and well-furnished the living room.

  “Mother!”

  “Hi, honey!” Her mother’s voice came from the kitchen. Lynn had forgotten that Saturday afternoons were Rosalie’s time off. She swung through the open door to find her mother elbow-deep in flour.

  “Baking?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Chambers glanced up self-consciously. “Come in, but don’t you dare laugh. I know I don’t do these things as well as Rosalie does, but I certainly love to try.”

  Lynn perched on the kitchen stool at one end of the table, shaking her head in astonishment at the mounds of ingredients that were piled in various places around the table surface, waiting to be poured into the gigantic mixing bowl. She could hardly keep back a smile when she remembered Anne’s efficient cooking techniques.

  “You love to cook, don’t you, Mother? You can hardly wait for Rosalie’s day off, so you can get in here and mess around.”

  “Mess around!” Mrs. Chambers exclaimed in mock horror. “Why, I’ll have you know I’m making the best apple upside-down cake that has ever been eaten in this house!” Then she smiled. “Truly, I do love to mess around when it’s something special, a real project of some kind. I don’t like the regular everyday meals and I’m happy Rosalie does them for me; but then I’m delighted when the weekend comes and I can experiment with something interesting.” She lifted one of the piles of flour and poured it into the bowl. “Did you have a good time at the Masters’?”

  “Yes,” Lynn answered, “Anne really is a good housekeeper. You know, she has been taking care of all the housework and cooking and everything, all by herself, since her mother died.”

  “That’s a big load for a girl her age,” Mrs. Chambers said gravely. “What is Mr. Masters like?”

  “He seems very nice,” Lynn said, “although he works in the evenings, so I didn’t have much chance to get to know him. Anne and I went to a movie. I seem to be seeing quite a lot of movies lately, don’t I?”

  Mrs. Chambers nodded. “Yes, you did just see one with Dirk, didn’t you?” She began to rub flour on her hands. “Lynn, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about Dirk. Some of the ladies at the auxiliary meetings—well, their daughters have mentioned him at home—They all seem to think he isn’t the kind of boy you should be dating.”

  Lynn straightened up. “Why?”

  “Well, they say he has been in trouble with the police, that he runs around with an older crowd, that he smokes and drinks—all in all, that he just isn’t desirable company for a girl like you. I wouldn’t discuss it with them because I didn’t really know anything about it. I just took it for granted that he must be a nice boy or you would not be dating him.”

  “He is nice,” Lynn said flatly. “I didn’t think so at first but now I do. He’s just sort of—well, mixed up. He needs somebody to help him.”

  Mrs. Chambers raised her eyes and gave her daughter a long look. “And that somebody is you?”

  Lynn flushed. “Well, why not? He seems to like and respect me. Why not try to help him?”

  “That’s a good question,” her mother answered quietly. “I don’t know if there is as good an answer. I can only tell you what I have observed myself, through a few more years of living than you have had.” She paused. “It’s good to be friends with people and to like them and want to help them, but no boy is going to be helped by a girl unless he is willing to help himself first. And no girl is going to help a boy by leaning down to him. She can help him only by standing up tall and inspiring him to rise up to her.”

  “What do you mean?” Lynn asked uncomfortably, recalling with a flood of guilt the date with Dirk, the fast driving, the evening at Charlie’s.

  She thought, she can’t know. There’s no possible way for her to know about that.

  Still, she was relieved when her mother said, “I’m not referring to anything special, dear; I’m just stating a generalization. And I’m wondering if maybe it would be better for you not to go out with this boy. There is no sense in asking for trouble when there is no need to.”

  “Not go out with this boy!” Lynn repeated, with a touch of bitterness in her voice. “Honestly, Mother, what do you and Daddy want me to do with myself during my senior year? You’ve forbidden me to be a debutante, which automatically cuts me out of dates with all the Hill boys. Now you’re forbidding me to date boys who aren’t Hill boys—”

  “Lynn, that’s not so!” her mother exclaimed. “I’m not thinking in terms of Hill boys and other boys. There are plenty of nice boys who don’t come from the Hill. But this Dirk just sounds like a bad apple, a weakling and a troublemaker. I would think that of him wherever he came from. Daddy and I want you to be democratic in your friendships, but that doesn’t mean you have to go out and deliberately pick out the worst possible boy you can find—”

  “Oh, Mother!” Lynn swung herself off the stool. “For goodness’ sakes, you’re making so much more of everything than there is! But let’s not argue about it. Goodness, it’s already the end of November! Just two more weeks and Paul will be home, and then there won’t be anything to worry about. I take it, you don’t object to my dating Paul?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly!” Her mother sighed. “You know we don’t object to Paul. Or to any other nice boy.”

  Lynn said, “I’m going up to my room and unpack my pajamas and things. Hope that cake’s ready in time for lunch, I’m starved.”

  She went up the stairs, encountering Dodie in the hall. Her sister had her hair done up in pincurls, under a bright colored bandana.

  She said, “Hi! You back?”

  “Yes. What are you doing with your hair up at this hour?”

  “Rolled it last night and it didn’t take right so I’m doing it again. Can I use your hair dryer?”

  “Sure, I guess so. But
don’t drop it.” Lynn went into her room and got the little electric dryer out of her closet. “Hey, wait a minute before you go; I want to ask you something. Were you over at the Turners’ house the other day?”

  Dodie gave her a sharp glance. “Why?”

  “Anne said she saw you there. I didn’t think she could be right, but I thought I’d ask you, anyway.”

  “Yes,” Dodie said surprisingly, “I was there. Mrs. Turner was at the hospital, visiting with the little girl, and Ronnie had to work, so I said I’d keep an eye on the boys.”

  Lynn’s eyes opened wider. “How on earth did that happen? I mean, how did Ronnie come to ask you?”

  “He didn’t.” Dodie answered briefly. “I asked him.” She started toward the door and then she turned back, as though she felt she should add something to her explanation. “I went in the drugstore with the gang after school and Ronnie was trying to serve everybody and keep an eye on the three little kids at the same time. He had them in a back booth, and the little one was howling, and the other two were climbing on the table. Ronnie looked like he was about to have a breakdown, watching them and working at the same time, so I told him I’d babysit for a while.”

  Lynn stared at her younger sister in bewilderment. Was this Dodie—Dodie, who had never condescended to babysit in her entire life!

  “I thought you hated babysitting.”

  “I do,” Dodie said.

  “Then, why—”

  “Oh, I don’t know!” Dodie exclaimed impatiently. “He just looked like he needed help. Now, can I get out of this third degree and go dry my hair?”

  “Sure. Sorry to waste your valuable time,” Lynn sat down on the bed.

  Dodie, she thought, Dodie—I don’t know you at all! You are my own sister, and you’re more of a stranger to me than any girl I know. Why, I even know Anne better than I do you!