He walked us out of the office and said good-bye to Daddy.
“I’m letting you keep your phone,” Daddy said to me. “You might have some need for it soon, and I have complete faith that you won’t abuse it again. Ava certainly knows not to call you at school now unless it’s some dire emergency, so there should be no chance of it, anyway.”
I looked down. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t look him right in the eyes and lie to him. I had no doubt he sensed it anyway, and I was afraid.
“Just go on and be a good student until we leave,” he said. “Ava will be picking you and Marla up after school. I have some business to attend to this afternoon.”
He kissed me softly, on the cheek but very close to my lips. Then he turned and left. I hurried to class, anticipating lots of busybody questions hurled at me every chance the gossips had. I knew girls like Ruta and Meg were gleeful over my suspension. In many ways, then, I really was like Marla in hoping that we would not be around much longer.
I was so involved with fending off the questions and nasty comments most of the day, as well as still smarting over how I had let Daddy down, that I didn’t think much about Buddy. I checked my phone when I was able to go outside during lunch. As I expected, he had called and left a message. He was concerned about me and what had happened when my father found out I was suspended from school. I debated with myself about returning his call and perhaps telling him that he shouldn’t call me again. I would tell him as firmly as I could that we could not see each other under any circumstances, but I was also afraid that I would break down and give in to his pleas. For now, at least, it was better to put it off for as long as I could.
But Ava had no intention of backing off on her demands. I could sense it the moment she picked up Marla and me. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to be alone with me. When we arrived at home and Marla and I started to get out of the car, she seized my arm and said, “No, you stay.”
“Why is she staying?” Marla immediately demanded.
“Lorelei and I have to go somewhere to meet someone,” Ava said. “Just go into the house.”
“Why can’t I go, too?”
“If you could, would I have wasted time bringing you home, Marla? This is Daddy’s business. Just do what you’re told,” she said sharply.
Petulant, Marla got out, but she glared at me as if it was somehow all my fault. Had Ava told her about Buddy and me? The moment she was gone and Ava started to drive away, I asked her.
“Of course not,” she said. “She’s far too young to understand all of this, and besides, I couldn’t trust that she would keep her mouth shut. She’d go to Mrs. Fennel, if not Daddy.”
“How mean she’s become.”
“Mean? She’s not mean, Lorelei. She’s competitive. Have you forgotten Daddy’s lectures about sibling rivalry and how it applies more to us than most? I told you, she’s going to be breathing down your neck.” She laughed.
“What’s so funny, Ava?”
“I’m glad she came here after you and not after me. You’re much easier to compete with,” she said with a smile. “Which,” she decided to add, “is not something of which you should be proud.”
I was tired of her lectures and criticism. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you think? We have to set up for the weekend.”
“Must we do this, Ava? Isn’t there any other way, any other choice? I’ll do anything else you say. I swear.”
“I know you would, and that’s why we must do this. You can’t remain this weak and vulnerable, even to me. In the end, years from now, you’ll look back and thank me.”
I won’t thank you as much as I’ll hate myself, I thought.
We drove on, Ava energized and excited and me sinking into myself as if my body had turne
d into quicksand.
“What this will do,” she said as we turned toward UCLA, “is make you and me closer as sisters. I’m sure that’s something you’ve always wanted.” She turned to me when I didn’t respond. “Something Daddy has always wanted,” she tacked on.
“I know,” I said.
But anyone listening would have wondered, as Ava was now wondering, if I saw that as something wonderful or something tragic.
Time, the real fortune-teller, would let us know sooner than we could imagine.
18
A Plan