Interrupted Read online

She snuck a quick look at Sam and whispered, “Trust me, just go and have fun,” then settled back into her seat.

  Beside me, I think Sam was smiling. Did he …? My face grew scarlet as I climbed out of our row.

  Gosh, why did I have to be adopted by such an embarrassing family?

  The fairground was alive with glowing lights, with the sweet smells of popcorn and cotton candy wafting through the air.

  “I honestly thought you were going to get sick on that last ride, Allie,” Sam said into my ear, his eyes twinkling.

  I leveled my eyes at him. “I’m sure you would have enjoyed that.”

  Sam shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a piece of popcorn. “Hey, I’m not saying I would have liked it to happen. But if it did, I would have wanted to see it.”

  Charlie laughed and shoved him. “Oh, you are too much! Isn’t he too much, Allie?”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered.

  Sam looked up. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.” I looked away and instead focused on the twirling lights of the merry-go-round.

  “And that’s when I discovered that botany isn’t so different from biophysics after all,” Russell droned on beside me, idly chewing on a piece of popcorn. “It all depends on the chemical makeup of—”

  “Oh, a Ferris wheel!” Charlie brightened, grabbing my arm. She tugged my elbow and batted her eyelashes. “Oh, let’s go on it, Allie. Come on!” She giggled and linked her arm through Russell’s. “Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel, Russell? It’s so much fun!”

  Sam and I followed and climbed into the seat above them. The ride conductor shouted and pulled back the lever, setting the wheel in motion.

  The ride started slowly. I took a deep breath, determined not to show my fear. It was just so … high. I clutched the side of the seat and looked over the edge, and my stomach churned in response. I sat back and closed my eyes.

  Sam was laughing. “Haven’t you ever ridden a Ferris wheel before?”

  “Once.” I opened one eye. “I threw up.” I promptly closed the eye, my face reddening.

  “Well then, this will be interesting,” Sam chuckled. I reached out and slapped his arm. “No need for violence. Just sayin’ that if it happens …”

  Breathe in. Breathe out. This will all be over soon.

  The ride jolted to a stop. My eyes jerked open. We were almost at the top of the Ferris wheel, looking down at the brightly lit park.

  Panicked, I clutched Sam’s jacket. “What happened?”

  A short, bald man walked over to the side of the ride. “Just hold on!” he shouted. “We’re having a few problems, but we’re sure it will be fixed in no time at all!”

  Sam smiled and nodded at him. He turned to me with a devilish smirk on his face. “Looks like you’ll be getting over your fear tonight.”

  I grimaced, my stomach feeling woozy.

  “How are you all doing up there?”

  Sam waved to the man below. If he wasn’t the only thing keeping me somewhat calm, I would throw him over the side.

  I groaned and pulled my thin sweater tight. “We’ve been up here for two hours.”

  I looked down at the park beneath us. In time, my wooziness had settled to a slight flutter at the sight of all the lights and little people below, though I was far from happy to be perched in the air. At least everyone had stopped staring at the stuck Ferris wheel and were now continuing on their way out of the park.

  Sam smiled. “It’s a beautiful evening.”

  I stared at him, incredulous. “The park is closing in ten minutes. This evening won’t be beautiful for long.”

  “Allie?”

  I looked down to see Russell glancing up at me with owl eyes. On his shoulder, Charlie had dozed off. “What, Russell?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Russell whispered, his face red.

  Sam shrugged. “Sorry.” He whispered to me, “What does he think you can do about it?”

  Russell grimaced and tried to go back to sleep.

  I in turn sighed and leaned on the side of the seat.

  Sam fiddled with his ride tickets. “I wish there was some kind of poem I could recite about this.”

  “There is no poem about this.” I turned and settled my gaze on him. “How many poets have gotten stuck on a Ferris wheel two hours after curfew? Not even Irene can get me out of this one.”

  Sam grinned. “Maybe I’ll write one instead.” His brow knotted as if he was deep in thought. “I shall call it ‘Ode to a Luminous Wheel.’ ” He glanced sideways at me and batted his eyelashes. “I’ll dedicate it to you.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. “I doubt you could write poetry.” Before the smile could betray me, I turned away, clutching the side of the seat while looking out over the park.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  I strummed the hard steel seats, trying to keep my mouth straight.

  “Do you remember your fourteenth birthday?” Sam asked suddenly.

  My head shot around. He was staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I lowered my eyes.

  Sam folded and refolded a ticket. “I gave you a set of chalks.” He looked seriously in my eyes. “Did you really hate them as much as you made it seem?”

  My stomach lurched. “No,” I said softly.

  “Oh.” Sam ran a hand through his hair and then looked away. “Just wondering.”

  “And, um …” My voice choked. “And what I said at the funeral wasn’t true, either. About Mama’s death being your fault and all.” I looked down at my lap.

  “Oh, good. I felt really bad. For, you know, keeping you from being there and everything.”

  “No, I’m glad I wasn’t there.” The words took me by surprise. “I wouldn’t have wanted to see Mama fall and feel like … Like it was my fault.”

  “Yeah?” I studied the floor, but I felt his gaze. My stomach fluttered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Allie?” Beatrice glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “Hmm?” I rested my head against the car window and closed my eyes. Lights buzzed past us as we drove through the busiest part of town. Beatrice paused. I peeked open an eye and saw her gripping the steering wheel, her knuckles white.

  “Allie …” We turned into our driveway and stopped at the top of the hill. I leaned over to climb out, but Beatrice grabbed my arm. “Allie, wait.”

  I jerked back into the seat. “What?”

  Beatrice sighed. I couldn’t see her face in the dark car. Has she decided to punish me after all? I’m still surprised she let Irene take the blame and let me off the hook that easily.

  I squirmed. The silence was awkward.

  “Is it something I did?” Beatrice finally asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Beatrice took a deep breath. “Ever since you came here you’ve been … bent-up and moody and … I don’t know. It feels like you’re holding everything inside, deep down … somewhere. It can’t be good for you, Allie. But I can’t figure out what I’ve done or what I can do to make you happy. You know how I pray for you. That God would lead you to show me what’s wrong.”

  I gulped. I don’t need your prayers. “There’s nothing wrong.” I adjusted my yellow cotton skirt and tried to open the car door.

  “Allie.” She reached out to grab my arm, her voice softly pleading. “I’ve never tried to do anything to hurt you. All I’ve wanted to do is be a good mother to you — to love you.”

  My head whipped around. “I have a mother and I have a home and neither one is in Maine.”

  Her face crumpled. She dropped her hand and turned to the steering wheel, tears filling her eyes.

  My stomach churned for the second time that night. I opened my mouth and shut it. I shouldn’t have … “Sorry,” I whispered.

  I jumped out of the car and slammed the door, running to the house and up the stairs.

  I locked my bedroom door and collapsed on the window seat. I’m so stupid. Why can’t I d
o anything right?

  I banged my fist against the wall and covered my face. “Why does this have to be so hard?” I whispered.

  I glanced out the window. Beatrice was leaning on the side of the car, burying her face in her arm.

  My heart squeezed with guilt. I closed my eyes. Mama. I want Mama.

  She’d said that Christians would do their best to make you feel wanted. To make religion sound so good and inviting. But I couldn’t crack. I had to stand firm.

  I could hear her voice in my head: “All people want to do is hurt you. All you can trust is where you come from and who you are.”

  I glanced out the window and saw Beatrice wiping her cheeks, turning to come inside.

  I pulled the curtains shut and wrapped my arms around my knees. My eyes welled up. “I don’t care,” I whispered into the darkness. “I don’t care.”

  Chapter 11

  I cannot dance upon my Toes—

  No Man instructed me—

  But oftentimes, among my mind,

  A Glee possesseth me.

  — Emily Dickinson

  I sat at my vanity and stuck my tongue out at the mirror. I look like a madman.

  I pulled my tongue back in and tried to form an honest impression of myself. A pale, fluttery creature stared back at me, clad in airy green chiffon with deep brown waves and cherry lips. She was far too fine to be Allie Everly.

  I sighed and stood, grabbing a pair of pumps from the closet. I glanced in the mirror one last time and adjusted my sash. A small smile threatened to escape my mouth.

  “Allie!” Beatrice called. “The party started ten minutes ago!”

  I pulled on the shoes and shut the bedroom door behind me. Beatrice looked up from across the hall and halted, her chin dropping. She put a hand up to her mouth leaned against the stairwell. “Oh, Allie,” she whispered, “you look lovely.”

  I let the smile escape. “Thank you.” I pranced down the stairs. “I suppose we should get going.”

  “Russell will like that dress,” Beatrice commented as she opened the car door. “A pretty girl makes a man’s thoughts whirl,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

  “I highly doubt he’ll notice it.” The thought lifted my spirits higher. “He’s been a bit preoccupied with Charlie as of late.”

  Beatrice raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Really?” She seemed to ponder this in silence for a while. “That’s a good match for Charlie,” she decided.

  “Mmm-hmm.” I leaned my cheek on the car window and watched the houses whizz by, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

  “You know, you really do look stunning, Allie,” Beatrice said, looking over at me. “I truly am proud of you.”

  I lowered my eyes. She’s probably just saying that so I won’t sulk and embarrass her. Nevertheless, I felt a wave of pride surge inside me — one I intended to keep private. “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Beatrice looked at me intently for a few moments before sighing loudly. She parked the car in front of the Wilkinson’s house and climbed out, while I sat by myself just long enough to make her frustrated before I followed her into the house.

  A Billie Holiday song greeted us as we entered, followed by a smiling Debra Wilkinson. “Beatrice and Allie!” She rushed over and enveloped us into her perfumed arms. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She looked around with a creased brow. “And where is Irene?”

  Beatrice gracefully extracted herself from Mrs. Wilkinson’s arms. “She returned to Florida for the rest of the summer, until Daniel finishes training. I believe she’ll be home again in October.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Wilkinson glanced at me and pinched my arm. “The young people are gathered on the terrace, Allie dear.” She winked and shooed me outside.

  Once the adults were out of sight, I shivered. The sight of Mrs. Wilkinson’s overly made-up face so close to mine was burned into my permanent memory.

  Charlie’s laughter drifted over the terrace. I caught sight of her blonde curls through the sea of people and made my way toward her.

  Russell and Sam, as well as about a dozen other boys from school, were standing nearby, engrossed in whatever she was saying. If she wasn’t my friend, I’d be almost jealous.

  Charlie caught sight of me and waved, her entire face coming alive. “Allie! Oh, Allie, how are you?” She pulled me close and hugged me, the scent of her perfume much sweeter than Debra Wilkinson’s.

  I smiled at all the young men briefly before grabbing Charlie’s arm and pulling her aside. She giggled and squeezed my elbow, biting her lip. “Say, Allie, do I look okay? I caught Russell staring at me a few minutes ago.”

  I snorted. “Charlie, every young man over there was gawking at you just now. How do you think you look?”

  Charlie blushed and smoothed her blue gingham dress. She glanced me up and down and looked almost as shocked as Miss Beatrice. “You look nice.”

  “Thank you.” I grabbed her elbow and turned back to the young men. They straightened, smiling at us. “What was Charlie telling you all?” I asked.

  “She was telling us about a puppy she found on the side of the road last week,” Russell answered, pulling at his necktie. He smiled at Charlie, looking more dopey than usual. “It was wonderful.”

  Charlie beamed and looked down.

  A new record started up, a jazzy waltz coming from the gramophone. Russell glanced at Charlie. “Would you like to dance?”

  She shrugged, though her eyes were shining brilliantly. “I don’t see why not.”

  I watched him lead her into the living room, until they disappeared behind a crowd of dancing couples. I crinkled my nose. Isn’t that cute? I turned to see all the young men staring at one boy from school, who watched me nervously.

  “Say, Allie,” he croaked, “you wanna dance?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Not with you, Teddy Buchanan.” Almost as second nature, I glanced the rest of the boys over, daring them with my haughtiness. One by one, they each dropped their eyes. Only Sam continued to watch me, an unreadable look on his face.

  Without another word, I spun on my heel and marched back inside the house, not sure whether or not to be ashamed of myself. I wasn’t sweet—that much was true. But I didn’t like to think of myself as a total brat. At least not in front of Sam.

  I stood in a doorway, watching the dancing couples swing by. Charlie looked blissfully happy, laughing at everything Russell had to say. And Russell, for his part, looked like the proudest man in the room.

  The record died down, and the old hit “Cheek to Cheek” started. I swished my green skirts around me and stood on my tiptoes, gently swaying with the music. It was such a happy song.

  I bent my head and twirled around, imagining I was dancing with a partner. A hand pressed against my back as someone grabbed my waist and began to lead me. I looked up to see Sam smiling down at me.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” I looked away, feeling my entire body turn red, but let him escort me onto the floor, where we took our place amidst the dancing couples. It was actually sort of fun—swinging and swaying to the music, Sam’s cheek near mine.

  “This is a nice song,” Sam commented.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Did you ever see the movie?” Sam swung me under his arm.

  “Yes. I saw it with Mama.”

  “Really?” Sam laughed. “I never pictured her as the movie-going type.”

  I bristled. “What do you mean?”

  “Relax.” Sam squeezed my hand and smiled. “It wasn’t an insult.”

  “Oh.” I pressed my lips together, unable to think of anything else to say. His eyes are a very nice shade of blue. Funny I never really noticed it when we were little. Maybe it was because he was now wearing a blue silk shirt.

  Sam looked around. “Nice party.”

  I nodded. “Very nice. The Wilkinsons have a lovely house.” Is this his idea of small talk? It was almost a little funny. We’ve never run out of things to talk about
before. Why now?

  He glanced at Charlie and Russell, who were doing more staring into each other’s eyes than dancing. “They look very happy. Can’t say the same about Mrs. Wilkinson.”

  Russell’s mother hovered in a corner, frowning at the couple. Sam laughed. “She has no reason to be worried. Charlie’s a sweet girl, despite being a bit of a flirt. She and Russell are good for each other.”

  I just nodded again and let Sam spin me around, my chiffon skirt swirling around me. The music swelled, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think we look at all like Fred and Ginger?”

  Sam seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he looked around and lowered his voice. “I could try to sweep you into some fancy dive or lift, if you’d like. But I’m afraid it would draw a great deal of attention from our fellow dancers.”

  I laughed. “No, this is fine.”

  The song ended far too soon. Everyone stood and pretended to clap for the gramophone. Mrs. Wilkinson walked into the center of the room and motioned for everyone to stop. “Now, now, that’s enough.” She smiled. “I’m sure Mr. Astaire would be very pleased.” A murmur of laughter filled the room. Mrs. Wilkinson clapped her hands and announced, “Donations for the war effort will be taken in a few minutes, when we all retire to the parlor for some entertainment. Singers, musicians …” She looked around the room eagerly and added. “As well as anyone who wishes to perform for us. Meanwhile, enjoy one last song in your lover’s arms.” With that, she turned the gramophone back on and returned to her chair.

  I left the floor and went back to standing in the doorway. Sam made his way over toward me and together we watched the couples spin around the room.

  “So,” Sam said after awhile, looking at his hands. “Who was that kid you were so snooty to earlier?”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the dancers. “What are you talking about?”

  “That boy who nearly died of humiliation when you stuck up your nose and said you’d never dance with him.”

  I smirked. “I didn’t say I’d never dance with him. I just prefer not to mix with the boys from school.”

  “Why?” Sam was frowning at me. I looked away.

  “They’re so … classless.” I shrugged, glancing at Sam. “You know what I mean.”