I looked for Guthrie in the hallways, after my class after lunch, but I didn't see him. I thought about waiting by his locker, but then
I'd be late to work, so I didn't. I gathered up my book bag with homework, and left, heading to the parking lot. It was just luck that the boy's gym class
was outside, doing laps around the school. I saw Guthrie and stood, watching him, my bag flung over my shoulder. He saw me too, and I motioned to him, urging
him to come to me. He stopped sprinting, said something to Mr. Pierce, the gym teacher, and then walked to me.
"It was a dumb thing to say," I said, without preamble.
"Yep."
"Forgive me? Please?" I said. "Guth?"
Guthrie rolled his eyes. "Of course I forgive you."
I nodded, relieved. "Okay."
"I mean of course I forgive you," Guthrie said. "It's not like I'm not gonna forgive you, or kick your butt or whatever-I'm not Brian-"
I widened my eyes, and felt my stomach knot up at his words.
Guthrie looked instantly contrite. "Aw, now it's me, saying dumb stuff-I was just joking with you, don't worry, Har. It'll go okay with Brian when you talk to him."
"You think so?" I asked, not really believing it would be, but wanting Guthrie to somehow convince me.
"Sure. Just tell him you messed up big time-it'll all blow over," Guthrie said.
"I hope," I said.
"I gotta get back," Guthrie said, looking towards the rest of his class, who were still running laps.
We said goodbye to each other, and Guthrie headed back to his laps, and I drove to the vet office.
7
Work time passed quickly. We had three dogs to vaccinate, and then since one of them was going to be boarding for the next two
days, I gave him a bath in the back sink. He was a fluffy dog, part poodle. When we were done for the day, Ivy offered to take me over
to the cafe for a treat, like some of Marie's pie. I didn't want to tell her outright that I couldn't stay past four at all, even though I figured Crane would
tell her anyway. So, I said, in honesty, "I have to leave at four every day for a while. I had a dizzy spell yesterday-and they're all wigged out about
me doing too much."
Instantly, Ivy looked regretful. "Oh, Harlie, gosh, I feel responsible. I shouldn't have had you go to the Ivy's with me yesterday."
"It wasn't going over there that caused my blood sugar to dip," I told her, with a smile. "I just didn't eat enough."
"Still, though-" Ivy said, still looking as though she felt badly.
"Please don't feel that way," I said. "I mean-I practically forced myself into your truck," I added lightly.
"I was glad to have you," Ivy said, diplomatically. "Well, I'll make sure you're out of here every day by four."
Now, I felt badly. Ivy was blaming herself, and taking on the responsibility that should be mine only.
7
I drove home, not extra slowly, but definitely not fast. Thinking about that stupid quiz in anatomy, and about Brian and the impending
talk we were going to have. At home, I left my stuff in my truck, and went to feed the goats, and the barn cats, and went to spend a few minutes
with D.C. D.C. and Old Charley had become great friends, and where one was, the other was usually, as well.
I realized that D.C. needed to be curry combed. I hadn't spent hardly any time with him at all lately. I thought I'd take my bag and stuff inside, and get
a tall glass of water, and an apple, and then, if Hannah didn't need my help, I would gather up the brushes and work on brushing D.C. out.
I left my bag on the end of the couch, and went to the kitchen. Clare was chopping carrots, sitting at the table, and Hannah was coming in from
outside, carrying a basket of sheets from the clothesline.
I got my water as we exchanged greetings. Hannah, not surprisingly, gave me a careful once-over, asking how my day had gone, and how
I was feeling. And, had I eaten the snacks she'd sent with me?
I said I was feeling fine, and that yes, I'd eaten the beef stick, apples slices and Wheat Thin crackers.
"It was all good," I said. "Thanks, Hannah."
"I'll put some thought into what to send with you tomorrow," she said.
Even though I know, it still struck me how much Hannah does for all of us-and especially for me.
"Do you need me to help get supper ready?" I asked.
"I think we've got it covered alright," she said. "If you want, you can go on up and get showered while there's hot water. It will give
you a head start on the evening."
"Okay. I'll be back down to set the table," I promised.
"Your clean clothes are there," she said, pointing to a tidy pile on the table. "Take those when you go up."
I gathered the clothes up and went upstairs, reveling in the fact that I got the shower first. Still-I tried not to be a hog about it,
so there'd be hot water left for the next two or three McFaddens. I was back in my room, brushing out my hair, and sitting cross-legged
on my bed, wearing a comfortable pair of shorts and t-shirt. I was halfway reading, at the same time, over what I'd written so far
for the school newspaper.
There was a light rap on the door, and I called out, 'come in'. I thought maybe it was Guthrie. Only it wasn't.
When I saw that it was Brian, I laid my paper aside, and held the brush between my hands, feeling myself draw up with
nerves.
"Hi," I said, trying to act normally.
"Hey." Brian came in, and closed the door behind him. A thing which I did not take lightly. It would have been far better of a sign if
he'd left it open.
"How are you feelin' today?" he asked me, first off. Ah, concern.
I thought again of trying to pull the sympathy card, but decided against it.
"I'm okay. Fine," I said.
Brian nodded. "Good," he said. He took my desk chair and turned it around, straddling it, and sitting with his arms crossed on the back of the chair.
That made me sit up really straight, and try to push down my nerves from showing.
"I am sorry about what I said," I said, right off.
"You've already apologized to me, Harlie."
That did not sound promising at all. As if an apology wasn't worth anything.
So I waited, holding my breath.
"You broke a hard and fast rule yesterday," he said.
"It just slipped out-" I began.
"You said that already, too," he reminded me, sounding impatient. "Why is that?"
I blinked at him. "What?"
"Why did it just slip out? A hard rule isn't something that you just forget, in the spur of a moment. So-why? What made yesterday
an exception to that?" he asked.
I blinked at him, searching my brain for an answer. I realized I didn't have one. And that was going to go badly-Brian wouldn't accept that
as an excuse.
When I didn't answer right off, Brian tapped his fingers on the chair. "Well?" he prompted.
"You won't like it," I said. "But it's the only answer I have. I don't know why I said it. I didn't think about it before-hand or anything. I didn't
plan it. I just-said it."
"Hmm," Brian said, not looking impressed.
"That's all I've got," I said, lifting my shoulders slightly.
Brian gave me a hard look. Hard enough to make me sweat. "Maybe it slipped out because you're feeling as though you can dance around
the rules, or not follow them any more. Think you're too old for the rules, maybe."
"I don't think that," I protested. I felt tears brimming in my eyes. I tried fiercely to hold them back.
"No?" Brian asked, looking doubtful.
"No," I said, as firmly as I could manage.
"Because-if that's the case, you need to have a reminder that you're not too old, and that you're expected to follow each and every
thing that's set out for you," he said.
At that point, I felt hopeless. I'd apologized to Brian. I'd told him that i had no good excuse. I'd told him that I didn't think I was
past the rules. None of that was seeming to make any difference to him.
"I understand all of that," I said, quietly. "I do."
"Alright," he said, and I felt a gush of relief. Maybe he was hearing me after all. "Well, this is somethin' that needs to have
a punishment, Harlie. I don't want you to get so big for your boots that you start taking the rules casual."
I didn't say anything. There wasn't any use to protest a punishment. So, I waited, watching his face.
"You can stay home this next weekend," Brian said. "Stay around the house. Kenny can't come over."
I had heard his first few words, and instantly felt shock rise to the surface. And panic.
"But this Saturday is the dance!" I protested, uncrossing my legs and scooting to the edge of the bed. When Brian didn't appear to
recognize the importance of what I was saying, I hastily charged on, "You know-the Fall dance! We've been planning it for a month. Kenny and I
and Guthrie and Kristen-we were all going out to eat dinner before!"
"I'm sorry about that," Brian said. He said it quietly, and he did actually have a regretful look on his face. Still-
"Clare took me shopping," I burst out. "Her and Hannah, and Clare bought me this thing for my hair-to match my dress-" my voice trailed off, as I
stared at him, wide-eyed.
"I forgot about the shopping you did," he said. "And I forgot about the dance, too."
I sat up even straighter, folding my hands together. Okay. Now that he'd been reminded, surely he was going to amend the
weekend somehow-
Only he didn't. He said, "It wouldn't be much use of a grounding if it didn't pain you some, Harlie."
Pain me some?
"Please, will you change your mind?" I said, pleading. "I'll stay home for the next two weekends after this one even, if you please don't
take the dance away, Brian!"
"So now you're negotiating?" Brian asked, sounding mad. "Since when is there any back and forth negotiations when you get handed a
grounding?"
"I'm not trying to negotiate," I said, and dropped my head to look at my hands. The tears were coming now. "I just-I know I deserve
to be grounded. I'll take an even longer grounding than one weekend. I'll do extra chores, too, or whatever else you say-I just don't want to
miss the dance."
There was silence, and then from the corner of my eye, I saw him stand up, and he moved the chair back to where it belonged, in front
of my desk. I raised my head to watch him.
"Blow your nose, and wash your face," he said. "It's almost time to come down for supper."
I suddenly felt so washed out, and hopeless, and mad, too. I brushed at my face. I wanted to say, like a little brat, that I didn't want to come down
for supper. Only I didn't. Instead, I gave a brief bob of my head in acknowledgement. Any more that I said, would only lead to more
trouble. I thought that I would go downstairs, eat my supper in silence, and then come right back to my room. I wouldn't stay downstairs
to do my homework, or anything at all like that. I'd slip down the back stairs to do my shot, and go right back up.
It wasn't that I was pouting, (well, maybe a little), but more that I just felt as though I was going to break. The dance had been a bright
spot lately to look forward to.
Brian had gone to the door, and opened it, and instead of going on down, he was standing just outside, in the hall, like he was
waiting for me, or something. I sighed, and got up, going past him and towards the bathroom.
"I'll be down," I said, quietly, and went to the bathroom and closed the door without looking back towards him.
Once in the privacy of the bathroom, I let my tears fall. I left the water running in the sink to cover the noise just in case there were
any nosy or inquiring brothers out in the hall. For all I knew, Brian was standing there, waiting for me. After a few minutes, I splashed water
on my face, and patted it dry with a fluffy towel. I sighed, and opened the door, expecting six foot one of a brother to be there. Only he
wasn't.
Thank gosh, I muttered to myself.
I went down the back stairs and slipped into my chair at the table. Someone else had set the table, and several hands were setting
food onto the table. I took a piece of meatloaf as the platter was passed around, and scooped out some corn from the bowl. I let the rolls pass on by.
I ate silent, like I'd planned. I could feel Hannah watching me, and I met her eyes before she said something about was I alright, or
something like that. I didn't want Brian to overhear anything. So I met her eyes, and tried to reassure her without words. She wrinkled her
forehead at me, but was quiet.
After I was finished, and everybody was finishing and getting up from the table, I scooted my chair in, put my plate by the sink, and
then went quietly on my way back upstairs to my bedroom. I read for awhile, just a novel that I'd checked out from the library. I didn't even
do any of my anatomy or trig homework. I did slip down and do my shot in the kitchen, making sure it was empty before I came totally down.
I'd finished, and was on the bottom step of the back stairs, when I heard Adam.
"Harlie."
I paused where I was, on the bottom step, not stepping back down. Adam came over to the corner of the kitchen that looks up
the stairs.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded, without answering, and Adam looked as though he was going to say something, but then he paused. He was looking at me
closely, though, and his eyes were kind. That kindness in his eyes nearly did me in right then. I was determined not to
start crying, though. I knew that Adam was aware of what was going on, and what it was that Brian had said and done. I knew, too,
that he most likely agreed with Brian, as well. Or, even if he didn't, he would keep that contained and tucked away, where it wouldn't show.
The two of them, well, and Crane, too, have always been a united front with each other when it comes to any discipline
handed out. So-he wasn't asking me if I was alright because he wanted to hear my complaints, or protests. He probably thought a gentle
approach would not go amiss right then. Still-I staunchly had nodded that I was 'okay'. Complaining or pouting about Brian would be the exact
thing that I was being punished for.
"You going to come in and sit with us all for a bit?" he asked me, quietly.
I shook my head slightly. "I'd like to go to bed and read," I said.
"Okay," he said. "Do your shot already?"
I nodded, and he said, "Okay. Get some sleep, then."
"K. Night," I mumbled, and turned to go up the stairs.
"Night."
I did read for a bit, and then I turned off my lamp, and got under my quilt, even though it was barely past eight o'clock. I had barely snuggled under
when there was a light tap on the door.
I ignored it, thinking whoever it was would go away when I didn't answer, and when there was no light shining under my closed door.
Another tap. "Har," Guthrie said.
"I'm tired, Guthrie. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Come on. Just for a second."
I sighed, and sat up in the bed. "Alright," I said.
Guthrie stepped inside, and flipped the light switch on. I blinked at going from darkness to bright light.
Guthrie plopped his butt down on my bed, nearly squashing my feet in the process.
"What's goin' on?" he asked, bluntly.
"Brian grounded me," I said.
"Oh," Guthrie said, not looking surprised. "Well, that's no shocker. You figured he would, didn't ya?"
"For this weekend," I said, pausing. "I don't get to go to the dance."
At that, Guthrie did register surprise. "No way," he said.
"Yeah."
"Man-" Guthrie hesitated. "That's harsh."
I thought it was harsh, too, but I just shrugged. I was tired.
"Did you tell him we're all goin' to dinner first-" Guthrie began.
"I told him. It didn't make any difference."
"Damn," Guthrie muttered. His sympathy and support made me feel a little better.
I laid back down again. "I'll have to tell Kenny tomorrow," I said, dreading it.
"Yeah," Guthrie said, with a sigh. "Maybe-if Kristen doesn't care, we could stay around the house with you. Kenny would be up for that."
Sometimes Guthrie still has the power to amaze and surprise me.
"You'd not go-just because I'm not going?" I asked, feeling emotional at his support.
"If Kristen doesn't care," Guthrie said.
"You can't do that. Kristen's been looking forward to it," I said. "Besides-even if you did stay home, Kenny can't be here. Brian said."
"Man," Guthrie said, again. "I don't see why he's gotta be that tough about it-"
"Don't worry about it, Guth," I said. "You guys will have fun."
Guthrie got quiet then, and gave me a long, sympathetic look. "Sorry, Har," he said.
"It's okay," I said, even though it wasn't.
7