Stacey's Lie Read online

“I just told you!” I cried.

  “Aren’t we best friends?” said Claudia.

  “Of course we are.”

  “Best friends don’t lie and keep secrets. I don’t really mind that Robert is here. That’s okay. In fact, it’s kind of romantic. But it bugs me that you lied.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Would you have come if I’d told you about Robert?”

  A small smile formed on Claudia’s lips. “No.”

  “See?” I cried.

  Claudia laughed a little. “You should have told me, anyway.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have come!”

  The problem wasn’t exactly resolved, but I was glad Claudia wasn’t angry anymore. She sighed and shook her head. “I guess it’s nice that you wanted me here that badly.”

  “I did. And I won’t lie to you ever again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise,” I said. “But, listen, Dad doesn’t know about Robert, so don’t mention his being here. Okay?”

  “You shouldn’t lie to your father, too,” Claudia said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You can’t talk! You hide junk food and sneak your Nancy Drew books at night!”

  Claudia sighed. “I suppose you’re right. All right. I won’t say anything.”

  Just then I saw Robert coming down the boardwalk toward us. That’s one of the things I love about him. He always backs me up. Another guy would have just taken off, not wanting any part of the problem. Not Robert. After giving me a little space, he was coming to see if he could help make things right.

  “Hi, Claudia,” he said, flashing his great smile. There was laughter in his eyes, which made the whole situation seem more funny than terrible.

  “Hello, Robert,” said Claudia, smiling. Right then, I knew everything was going to be all right. The three of us went to the ice cream stand near the dock. Robert and Claudia got cones. I was stuck with a cup of seltzer, but I didn’t care. I was glad everyone was friends. What could be better than sitting outside on a crystal blue day in a gorgeous, beachy place with my two favorite people? Nothing!

  For the next few days, everything was perfect. I couldn’t believe how relaxed Dad was. He was like a different person. For one thing, he did not bring work with him. (All right. He had a few reports with him, which he read on the beach. But for my dad, that’s nothing.) Besides that, he was pretty much letting Claudia and me come and go as we pleased. “This isn’t New York,” he said. “You’re very safe here. The only way in or out is the ferry. I don’t even have to worry about you being hit by a car.”

  His relaxed attitude made everything so simple. On Sunday morning, before either Claudia or Dad was even up, I got out of bed and met Robert on the corner of the boardwalk. I walked him down to the dock so he could be on the first ferry over to Patchogue.

  What a great way to start the day! I did it again on Monday and Tuesday. Robert would put his arm around my shoulder and we’d walk along with the gulls swooping overhead. Not many people were up yet. It was as if we were in our own private place. We wouldn’t talk much. But I felt so close to Robert, closer than ever before. It was as if I could feel the light touch of his hand on my shoulder for the rest of the day.

  Each day, by the time I got back, Dad was up brewing a pot of coffee. He and I would sit and have breakfast together. We’d usually be almost done by the time a sleepy-eyed Claudia would stumble in. “Sorry I slept so late,” she said the first day, Sunday.

  “Do whatever you like,” said Dad. “You’re on vacation.”

  Way to go, Mr. Mellow!

  That’s what we all did — just what we liked. Sunday morning, Dad came to the beach with us. Monday morning, Mr. Majors invited us to use his private tennis backboard. That was fun, but we only went once. It was as if a sort of vacation slowness was settling over us.

  Dad was a little busier. He played chess with Mr. Majors Monday afternoon, and he went over there Tuesday, too. In fact, he spent a lot of time at Mr. Majors’s house. I’d never heard of Mr. Majors before, so I was a little surprised that they were such good friends. Maybe Dad just needed some adult company.

  Claudia and I spent most of Monday and Tuesday down by the ocean. We’d swim, ride the waves, and collect shells. Claudia built dozens of elaborate sand castles. (You haven’t seen a sand castle until you’ve seen a Claudia Kishi castle!) They were truly gorgeous, with towers, tunnels, turrets, drawbridges of driftwood, and windows of colored beach glass. Once she even sand-sculpted an advancing dragon, complete with seaweed spikes along his back.

  I couldn’t believe that Claudia didn’t mind the way the ocean would wash these creations away, but she didn’t. In fact, Claud found a way to turn their destruction into art. She started bringing her camera to the beach, and photographing the waves’ work. She’d get completely covered with sand as she lay on her stomach with her camera in front of her. She’d shoot the water rushing into her moat, the surf crashing up and tumbling down one of her carefully made sand walls. She’d photograph the orange-pink sunset on her half-crashed castle. The different stages of the castles’ destruction was as interesting to her as their creation.

  With Claudia busy making her castles, and Dad spending so much time over at Mr. Majors’s place, it wasn’t difficult for me to get away to see Robert. I ran down to the dock whenever I knew the ferry would be getting in. Robert usually had about a half hour before he had to go out again on another run.

  On the days Claudia and I were alone, I just left Claud on the beach when I went to the dock. On Sunday, when Dad was there, I had to bring her with me, or Dad would have suspected something. Then it was a little awkward. I told Claudia she should stay with us, but she knew we wanted to be alone.

  She was great, through. “I’ll go browse in the Harbor Store,” she’d say. (Not that there’s all that much to see there. It’s mostly groceries and toiletries.)

  Going out at night was tougher on Claudia. She had to come out with me or Dad would have thought something was strange. But, if she wanted to give Robert and me time alone, there really wasn’t any place for her to go by herself.

  Luckily, on Sunday, we found the pizzeria on Watch Hill. The three of us went for pizza together. When Robert and I got up to leave, Claudia stayed seated. “I’m going to stay here and read my book,” she said. She’d brought along a book on photography.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’d really like to read this,” she insisted. I knew she was just trying to give Robert and me space.

  “All right,” I said. “We’re just going to take a walk on the beach.” My moonlit walks with Robert were so romantic. That first week, a big full moon was coming in. It outlined the crashing waves in silver light. We’d walk along, and Robert would tell me funny or interesting things that had happened on the ferry that day. (For instance, one afternoon a pet chinchilla had escaped from its carrying case. The ferry ride turned into a mad chinchilla hunt, as the animal scurried around below the seats.)

  “This is turning into the best summer,” Robert said, that first night. “A great job during the day, and the chance to see you every free minute I have.”

  “It’s great for me, too,” I said happily. “Things have worked out so perfectly.”

  Gently, Robert kissed me, there in the moonlight. It was like something out of a wonderful dream.

  I made it back to the pizzeria just as it was closing. Claudia was waiting for me outside. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know they closed so early.”

  “That’s okay,” said Claudia. She really didn’t seem to mind my going off with Robert.

  When we got home, Dad was gone. I didn’t even hear him come in. The next day, Dad told us he’d be going over to Mr. Majors’s house in the evening. Claudia and I left after supper together, but she went back home a half hour later. When I came in an hour or so after that, Dad was still out.

  On Tuesday night, Dad left before we did. “I’ll just stay home tonight,” Claudi
a volunteered. “Your dad probably won’t come in until late again.”

  “Are you sure you won’t be bored?” I asked her.

  “It’s okay,” she replied with a shrug. “Being a little bored won’t kill me.”

  The time did seem to be zooming by. They say that time files when you’re having fun. I guess it’s true.

  On Wednesday, as we made our way down to the dock to meet the noon ferry, Claudia spotted a flier taped to a tree. (Claudia was with me because Dad had come down to the beach with us that morning, and I didn’t want him wondering where I was off to, alone.) Claudia stopped and read the flier aloud. It said: Join the Fourth of July Fun! March in our annual parade. Come in costume. Make a float.

  “July first! That’s today!” Claudia cried.

  “So?” I questioned.

  “So, we have to be in this parade,” said Claudia. “There is absolutely nothing to do around here. But this is something! We can’t let it go by.”

  “You said you weren’t bored,” I reminded her.

  “I said it wouldn’t kill me to be bored,” she corrected me. “It won’t kill me but I’m not crazy about it.”

  “You mean you’re not having a good time?” I asked, suddenly feeling kind of guilty about being with Robert so much.

  “I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Claudia replied. “But it isn’t quite the way I pictured it. I thought I was going to spend time with you.”

  I pretended to brush my hair away from my face, but I was really sneaking a peek at my watch. The ferry was pulling in now. Part of me wanted to rush Claudia along to meet it, but another part knew this wasn’t the right moment to do that.

  “We are spending time together,” I said. “Like this morning.”

  “But it feels as if you’re just killing time with me until you can see Robert again. And that’s not a great feeling.”

  For the first time, I put myself in Claudia’s shoes. (Sandals, I guess.) Suddenly I could understand how she felt. “I’m just trying to spend time with you and Dad and Robert. I don’t want you to feel bad, because I’m so glad you’re here. Why don’t you have lunch with us on the dock today?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Claudia. “I’d just be in the way.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” I insisted. Of course, I loved having lunch alone with Robert. But that wasn’t more important than Claudia’s feelings.

  I was relieved when Claudia started walking again. “I would so be in the way. Besides, I want to go to the Harbor Store and sign up for this parade. All I want is for you to promise to march in it. I’m going to make costumes and everything.”

  I didn’t exactly love the idea of parading around the boardwalks in a costume, but how could I say no? “Sure,” I agreed, praying that Robert would be out on the ferry and wouldn’t see me that day. “And, listen, I’ll tell Robert I can’t see him tonight.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” said Claudia.

  I felt another little twinge of guilt. The truth was that one of the other crew members was sick and Robert was working the late runs for him. He wouldn’t be free until ten o’clock, anyway. “I don’t mind,” I said.

  Claudia smiled. “All right, if you really don’t mind.”

  When we got to the dock, Robert was waiting with a paper bag of food for our picnic. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “I bought some lunch while I was waiting,” Robert said, nodding toward the bag he held. “I figured you’d be along soon.”

  “We just stopped to read about the parade on the Fourth,” Claudia explained.

  “That should be fun,” he said. “Too bad I won’t get to see it. I’ll be in the middle of the bay when its starts.”

  Good thing, I thought, relieved.

  Claudia dug into the pocket of her canvas shorts and pulled out three rolls of film. “Is there any place to get film developed on the other side?” she asked Robert.

  “There’s a one-hour place nearby,” he replied. “I could ask one of the guys who lives in Patchogue to drop it off for you.”

  Claudia handed him the film and fished a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from her pocket. “I don’t really need it in an hour, but I do want it soon.”

  “No problem,” said Robert, taking the money from her.

  Claudia went off, and Robert and I found a grassy spot not far from the dock. “Good news,” Robert told me as we unwrapped our sandwiches. “I don’t have to work tonight. The guy I was covering for is feeling better.”

  “Oh, no!” I wailed. “I told Claudia I’d definitely do something with her tonight.”

  Robert looked disappointed. “Well, okay. That’s all right. I’ll find something to do.” But I knew Robert didn’t feel like sticking around the house where he was living. The couple he was staying with didn’t have any kids, and he felt as though he were a little in their way. He couldn’t wait for his family to arrive, so he could go live with them and feel at home.

  As we finished our lunch, I could see people beginning to gather around the ferry. That was a sure sign that it was almost time for the next run. “I’ll miss you tonight,” said Robert as he started stuffing napkins and white deli paper back into the bag.

  “Me, too,” I said, wiping crumbs from my mouth. “But I’ll see you after the next ferry.”

  “Maybe you should just spend the time with Claudia today,” Robert suggested. (He is so sensitive!)

  I probably should have, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Robert until the following day. “It’s all right,” I said, brushing sand from the back of my shorts. “I’ll spend tonight with her and she’ll be okay.”

  Robert kissed me and went back to the ferry. I walked up to the Harbor Store, but Claudia wasn’t there. I was just trying to decide where to look next when I saw her come out from one of the side walkways. She was all smiles. “Look what I found,” she said, holding out a card as she ran to meet me.

  I took the card from her and looked at it. It was a drawing of a sand castle with fairytale characters around it. There was a princess, her lady-in-waiting, a prince, a dragon, and a court jester. The drawing appeared to be very old-fashioned, as if it were an illustration from an old storybook.

  “I went for a walk and found this house painted pink,” Claudia explained. “I stopped to look at it and noticed a sign out front saying ‘Beach Glass Gallery, browsers welcome,’ so I went in. It’s the neatest little art gallery. I found this card in a box of antique cards for sale.”

  “It’s pretty,” I commented.

  “It is. It also gave me the greatest idea for our parade costumes. We’re going to be these characters, and we can make a sand castle float.”

  “Shouldn’t you do something patriotic for the Fourth?” I questioned.

  “No, no,” Claudia said, waving her hand. “Everyone will be doing that. This is something beachy. That fits, too, don’t you think so?”

  “I suppose,” I agreed. “How will you make the float?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet, but I will,” Claudia said. From the thoughtful expression on her face, I could tell she was already at work on the project.

  When we got back to the beach, Dad was gone. All our things were still on the blanket, though. Fire Island is the kind of place where you feel pretty safe leaving your stuff around. Claudia picked up her sketch pad and immediately began sketching the figures from the postcard. “I don’t have the right stuff to make all these costumes,” She said, half to me, half to herself. “I bet we could send a fax to Kristy. Watson has a fax machine in his office, doesn’t he?”

  “He does. I think I have his fax number in my address book.”

  “Good,” said Claudia. “We can tell those guys to bring costume stuff. I can write a note and give it to Robert, to fax on Long Island. Or maybe I’ll take the ferry across myself and get a cab to town.”

  “I’ll come with you,” I offered.

  “That would be great,” Claudia said, smi
ling as she continued to sketch.

  Claudia was so intent on her costume sketches that I didn’t feel guilty about meeting Robert two more times. Then we went back to the house. There was a note from Dad saying that he’d gone out to dinner with Mr. Majors. “He sure loves Mr. Majors,” said Claudia, tossing her sketchbook on the kitchen counter.

  “I know,” I agreed as I stood with the screen door open, brushing sand off my legs onto the porch. “He’s always over there.” I shook out my towel and draped it on the rail of the wooden deck outside. “Are you up for pizza again?”

  “Always,” Claudia said. “And I’m starving. Let’s shower and go.”

  The house had two bathrooms, so we were able to shower at the same time. I pulled on a pair of green leggings and a sleeveless denim top. Claudia wore a pair of wild tie-dyed leggings and an over-sized T-shirt she’d designed and silk-screened herself. She’d painted a flock of birds flying diagonally across it.

  We went to Watch Hill for pizza, and who just happened to be sitting there? Robert. Was that my fault? No. We couldn’t be rude, so we asked him to join us. Claudia didn’t seem to mind. She chattered happily about her plans for our float. She’d come up with the idea of tying together four or five red wagons and laying a board across their tops. That would give her a flat surface to build a giant sand castle on.

  “Sounds cool,” said Robert. “If you want help with anything, let me know.”

  “I will,” said Claudia. When we were done eating, Claudia got up to leave. I wanted to linger with Robert for a while longer, but I didn’t think I should.

  Without even giving me time to say good-bye to him, Claudia headed for the door. I hurried after her. “Wait up,” I called as she continued to walk away.

  “Go back inside with Robert,” she grumbled, not stopping.

  “Claudia! I didn’t tell him to be there. Is that what you think?”

  “Claudia stopped and threw her arms in the air. “I don’t know. Did you?”

  “No!”

  “This is crazy, Stacey. I wanted to spend some time with you, remember?”

  “I know. And I didn’t know he’d be there. But what’s so bad about the three of us hanging out together? You were having a good time in there,” I argued.