Rock and a Hard Place (13 page)

“
I wanted to speak to you
about Libby.”

“
What’d she do now? I doubt
she’d dare steal again.”

She looked horrified. “No, nothing like
that. Actually it’s more of an opportunity.”

Marge immediately lost interest and turned
to dismiss her. “I was working. Call me later.”

Julie followed on Marge’s heavy heels. “I’ve
been calling for the past week and you never answer my calls or
return my messages.”

“
Like I said, I have a lot
of work to do and don’t have time to chitty chat about the
girl.”

“
This won’t take more than
a few minutes. It’s very important to Libby.” As they came around
the edge of the house, Julie carefully stepped through the damp
grass. Marge wanted to return to the barn, but couldn’t with this
woman on her tail.

“
Do you work in there?”
Julie asked indicating the dilapidated barn. “What do you
do?”

Marge didn’t care for the woman’s eager
look. She clenched her teeth. This woman asked too many questions.
She needed to get rid of her and fast, before dealers started
showing up.

“
I make soap.”

Marge glared at her.

Surprise etched Julie’s face. “How
wonderful! Libby never mentioned your business. Where do you sell
it? I’d love to buy some.”

Marge grunted in reply, then turned back
toward the front of the house, the school woman pussy-footing
behind her. She went to the front door, pulled keys from her saggy
denim pocket and unlocked the door. One good shove and it opened.
With the woman inside, she’d be too distracted to keep asking about
the barn.

She entered, then turned abruptly. “Get on
with it, what do want?”

“
Oh,” the woman responded,
gripping her purse. “Libby doesn’t get a lot of interaction with
other students,”

Marge pierced her with an angry stare.
“She’s at school all day, what do you call that?”

“
Actually, Libby keeps to
herself a lot and she is carrying a very heavy course load with all
her honors and AP classes.”

Marge watched the woman peer around the
entryway and into the cluttered living room and kitchen. Nosy
twat.

Libby had recently cleaned up, but piles of
trash, dirty dishes and junk already littered the tables and
counters. The counselor’s gaze took in everything.

“
Get to the point.” Marge
pulled Julie’s attention back to her.

“
Homecoming is next week
and Libby needs to attend.” She stood taller and assumed an
authoritative air.

“
You came all the way out
here and interrupted my work, so that kid can go to a dance?” This
woman had guts. For the past year, Marge easily kept Libby under
her thumb. The last thing she needed was Libby to start going out
with friends. A boy bringing her home the other night was bad
enough. Outsiders asked questions and the more Libby stayed
isolated, the easier it was for Marge to keep her business
going.

“
Yes, it’s part of her high
school experience. Every student should enjoy this rite of
passage.”

“
I never went to a school
dance and it didn’t hurt me a bit.” No one ever invited
her.

Like Libby, Marge always had her head in a
book and earned top grades. Her younger sister, Susan, Libby’s
mother, went everywhere. Susan always moved with a huge passel of
friends and had more than a couple of guys sniffing after her. Only
one year older, she should have had the fun, but Miss Popularity
stole the spotlight. Where Susan was a natural beauty Marge felt
awkward and like an odd duck. She never measured up to her younger
sister. Even when she went off to Berkley on a full scholarship,
Susan stole her thunder by getting the lead in the school musical.
Their parents paid Susan’s way through college, while Marge earned
hers through hard work and dedication.

How she hated her sister for everything
great that fell into her lap! That is until Susan died in the car
crash. She should have felt sad. Instead she was happy not to have
to hear how perfect her sister’s world was. But now Marge was stuck
raising Libby, another slap in the face.

“
But Libby has been through
a traumatic time. She’s literally lost her family. She needs as
many normal teenage experiences as possible. She doesn’t have a
job, she doesn’t have a driver’s license. All these things are
important to a young person’s development.”

“
Driving costs money and
she’s already a financial drain. Now you want me to give her money
to buy a fancy dress?” Marge crossed her arms, time to shut this
woman down.

Julie Orman stepped away and into the
kitchen, taking in the flies flitting around old fast food
containers. She opened the bare refrigerator, revealing dried up
food on plates along side a few bottles of forgotten
condiments.

“
Don’t worry about a dress,
I’ll take care of it.” She shut the fridge door.

“
You can’t come in here and
tell me what to do. I’m her legal guardian. I know how kids her age
act. Once you let them loose, there’s no stopping them. She’ll end
up knocked-up, just like her mother.” Her sister wasn’t actually
pregnant until she was twenty-two and engaged, but the hoity-toity
school woman didn’t need to know.

“
I’ll be chaperoning the
dance, so she’ll be with me the entire time. I’ll pick her up that
afternoon and return her home after the dance. You don’t need to do
a thing.”

Stubborn bitch, wouldn’t back off.

The two women stood their ground, Marge in
her dirty work clothes and Miss Orman in her pressed blouse and
slacks. Both refused to look away.

“
Has the social worker done
a home visit recently?” Julie’s eyes lit in challenge.

Marge’s blood boiled. These school people
thought they could intrude wherever they wanted, all in the name of
a child’s welfare. She buckled. “Fine, take her, but I’m not giving
her a dime.”

A smirk on her perfect face, Julie stepped
to open the front door. “Thank you. Libby will be in good
hands.”

Marge followed. “One more thing. Don’t ever
step on my property again.” She slammed the aging door.

Chapter 12

“
Hair up or
down?”

Libby perched on a kitchen stool in the
small bathroom of Miss Orman’s apartment. Hair and makeup
paraphernalia cluttered the tiny counter.

“
Both,” she answered. “I
want the front and sides up and then the back to fall in a bunch of
curls. Can we do that?”

“
We can do anything.” Miss
Orman studied Libby’s long hair, determining how best to
begin.

Sitting together, in front of the giant
mirror, reminded Libby of the times she watched her mother get
ready for special parties with her dad. She and Sarah would sit on
the counter and laundry hamper playing with her mom’s cosmetics.
They laughed and teased each other as Mom artfully applied makeup,
occasionally brushing blush on their faces or spritzing them with
perfume.

Miss Orman brushed through Libby’s hair; her
summer highlights still shimmered. Libby closed her eyes and
imagined it was Mom who held the brush and hummed as she worked.
Perhaps she peered down from the heavens to guide Libby through
this memorable day.

“
Have you decided which
dress?”

Miss Orman had borrowed two dresses from a
friend’s daughter. Libby didn’t care if she wore a used dress; she
was ecstatic to be going. Plus the dresses were beautiful.

“
I like the pink and brown
one.” It fit close to her body and then flowed loosely over her
hips and legs. She transformed into a beautiful girl when she tried
it on. The top tied behind her neck like a halter top and revealed
her back. The front showed just the right amount of
cleavage.

“
That’s my favorite too. I
like how the patterns swirl together. Plus, you look amazing in it.
Any boy would be crazy not to fall at your feet.” Miss Orman used
the curling iron on Libby’s long locks.

“
You think so?” Libby
blushed, but for once it was out of excitement instead of
humiliation.

She wondered what it would be like to spend
an entire evening with Peter, dancing in his arms and letting the
world see they belonged together. After losing her family she gave
up on her dreams, but now, with Peter in her life, everything
changed. He made dreaming possible again. She glowed down to the
tips of her toes.

“
The boys at school won’t
know who you are. Everyone is so used to seeing you quiet and
keeping to yourself, I can just imagine how surprised they will be
to see you. You are going to have a great time.” Miss Orman tugged
on a lock of Libby’s hair and smiled.

They continued their preparations and
chatted away the time. Libby and Peter wouldn’t be going out to
dinner. He couldn’t get there until shortly after the dance
started, but she didn’t care. It was a miracle he could attend at
all. Miss Orman offered to drive, since she was a chaperone for the
night. Even Aunt Marge cooperated in allowing the night to happen.
Everything fell perfectly into place.

After splitting a pizza and putting the
final touches on Libby’s make up. Miss Orman zipped her into the
beautiful dress. Libby barely recognized herself in the full length
mirror. The vision of a gorgeous young woman stood poised and
confident before her. Libby turned to Misss. Orman in
disbelief.

“
You look stunning,” Miss
Orman said.

Libby flung herself into the woman’s arms.
“Thank you.”

“
It’s all you.” Miss Orman
hugged her warmly. “And it’s been there all the time. Now, when do
I finally get to meet this mystery man?”

Just then Libby’s phone rang. They looked at
each other and laughed.

# # #

“
I’m here! We just landed.”
Peter carried a small duffel bag over his shoulder and a bag with
Libby’s corsage in his hand. He’d never ordered flowers before. The
corsage contained pink roses and daisies; roses for her beauty and
daisies for her sweetness. Libby reminded him of a flower blowing
in the wind.

He wore a baseball cap to hide his famous
face, but he doubted he’d be recognized. Traveling alone and
without an entourage made getting around much simpler. Tonight
should be smooth as silk. Thank God.

As they exited the plane, Roger walked ahead
of him up the gangway.

“
Oh my God, I can’t believe
this is really happening.” Libby’s voice bubbled from his
phone.

“
I know, me either. I told
you we’d figure this out.” His excitement rivaled hers.

“
So how much
longer?”

“
About an hour if we drive
the speed limit, forty-five minutes if I have anything to say about
it.” He wanted Libby in his arms. This long distance thing was
killing him, but she was worth it.

“
Guess I better get going
or you’ll beat me there. I can’t wait to see the look on the kids’
faces when you walk in. Good thing you have Roger with
you.”

“
Roger loves his job so
much right now. He can’t wait to get there and try out his dance
moves with the high school set. Wait ‘til you see what he’s
wearing.”

Roger turned and growled at Peter. The only
dress jacket they could find to fit his large girth at the last
minute was dark purple velvet. He looked like an eighties pimp.

Libby giggled. “Hurry up, will ya? My hair
is already falling.”

“
You did your
hair?”

“
Of course! It’s
Homecoming.”

Roger stopped him as they entered the gate
area. A serious looking airport official and security guard
approached.

“
Hey, I gotta go,
something’s up, probably some security thing. I’ll see you in an
hour.”

“
Hurry.”

He flipped the phone shut and stepped
forward to speak to the official.

The loud bass from the cover band pumped
into the corridor.

“
Are you sure you don’t
want to come in and enjoy the dance?” Miss Orman urged again, their
earlier excitement long faded.

“
No. I’ll wait here.” Libby
refused go into the gym with the other kids. When Peter arrived,
she needed to be the first to lay eyes on him. No way would she
miss the moment by standing alone in the darkened, Hollywood-themed
gym.

“
He must have had car
trouble,” her counselor offered. Concern and yes, even pity etched
Miss Orman’s face.

“
Yeah, probably. Maybe a
flat tire.” Libby nodded, her lips pinched with worry.

Something had obviously happened. Everything
seemed fine when they talked two hours before. If a swarm of fans
was the hold up, she swore she’d kill them all. Peter belonged to
her tonight and no one else.

She paced the long hallway again, the click
of her ill-fitted heels echoed with each step. She lowered herself
onto a bench and checked her phone yet again for messages.

No power. Crap.

She’d been distracted all day and forgot to
recharge the phone. This coveted device, the keeper of information,
and her only connection to Peter, lay useless in her hand. She
shook it and rubbed it between her hands, hoping to bring her phone
back to life. Unfortunately, her phone charger hid behind books on
a shelf in her room. She couldn’t charge her phone without going
back to the house, and then Aunt Marge would never let her out
again. It was a big enough battle to leave the first time.