Sophie Hartley and the Facts of Life (10 page)

“We can find out everything we want to know on our own, okay?” Sophie said. “So just
back off.
” John would have been proud of her.

For a moment, Destiny was speechless. She looked around distractedly, as if searching for a different target. “Don't you think you're a little old to be playing with a yo-yo?” she said to Jenna.

“What does age have to do with anything?” Jenna said.

“Fine.” Destiny flicked her ponytail with enough energy that it would have wiped the entire group off the face of the earth if it had connected. “Be that way. Come on, Hailey.”

 

“I don't think Destiny's going to bug us anymore,” Jenna said. “At least, not about that.”

Her yo-yo was spinning inches above the floor. When Jenna lowered it enough so that it touched the ground, it rolled away from her as if it were running down the hall, until she jerked her hand and made it run back up the string.

“That's called ‘walk the dog,'” she said proudly.

“And what we just did is called ‘getting rid of Destiny,'” said Sophie.

 

“Relax your feet . . . relax your legs . . .” Ms. Bell's quiet voice slowly floated through the gym. “Relax your stomach . . . relax your hands . . . let your whole body relax . . .”

Sophie lay with her eyes closed and her hands at her sides. Her body felt limp, like a strand of spaghetti. Or maybe more like a car when you turn off the ignition and it stops moving and goes still.

My body, my body, my body,
Sophie thought. She didn't feel the least bit embarrassed.

“Bye! Have a great time! Have her home by ten, Ian.” Mr. Hartley shut the door behind Nora and Ian and leaned heavily against it. “Thank heavens that's over.”

“He kind of mumbled,” Sophie said, sitting on the couch. “I mean, he was nice and everything, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.”

“That's because his hair covered up his face,” said John.

“Not his whole face, John,” said Mr. Hartley. “Only his eyes.”

“And half his nose,” said Sophie.

Mr. Hartley pushed himself away from the door. “Well! I don't know about you two, but I feel much better now that Nora has been launched.”

“Good thing she's not here to hear you. You make her sound like a ship,” Sophie said. “That was a good call, not making her eat dinner. I think she really would have thrown up.”

“Come on, Dad, you promised.” John held out his hand, palm up. “I didn't try to kick him or ambush him.”

“A deal's a deal,” Mr. Hartley agreed. He pulled some bills out of his pocket, peeled off a single for John, and gave it to him. John promptly ran upstairs to hide it.

“You bribed him?” Sophie said indignantly. “How come you didn't bribe me?”

“I knew you had too much integrity to accept a bribe,” her dad said. “You can choose tonight's movie—how's that?”

“Tonight's movie and
you
have to make the popcorn,” Sophie said.

“Deal. But I'm telling you one thing right now, Sophie,” said Mr. Hartley. “There's a new rule in this family, starting with you: no dating until you're thirty.”

“Deal,” said Sophie.

 

Sophie was packing for a sleepover at Alice's house the next day when John called up the stairs.

“Mom's home!”

Sophie finished stuffing the last of her things into her suitcase and zipped it closed. After giving Patsy a quick kiss on the head, she headed for the stairs as Nora came down the hall behind her.

“Hurry up, slowpoke. I'm dying to see what Mom says about my hair.” Nora gave Sophie a playful prod in the back.

“She probably won't even notice,” said Sophie.

At the bottom of the stairs, Maura was toddling down the hall to the kitchen. Sophie swooped her up and carried her into the kitchen as the mudroom door opened and Mr. Hartley came in carrying Mrs. Hartley's suitcase.

“Mommy home?” said Maura. Then Mrs. Hartley appeared in the doorway behind her husband, and Maura's eyes opened wide. Her thumb fell out of her mouth as she wailed, “Mommy home!” and burst into tears.

“Maura, sweetie,” said Mrs. Hartley. She took Maura from Sophie and hugged her tight, patting her back and kissing her. “Don't cry, Maura. Mommy's home.”

“She was fine the whole time, Mom, really,” Nora said.

“She didn't cry once,” said Sophie.

“Dad almost cried last night when he burned the hamburgers and the buns caught fire in the toaster oven,” reported John.

“Now, John, no tattling.” Mr. Hartley put his arm around his wife's shoulders. “But I have to confess: I did almost cry when I saw the airport van pull into the driveway just now.”

They all laughed.

“We missed you, honey,” Mr. Hartley said. “I don't know how you do it. It's much easier to carry thousands of pounds of other people's junk in and out of houses.”

“I don't know how you travel as much as you do,” said Mrs. Hartley. “I can hardly wait to sleep in my own bed again.”

“I think we did pretty well, though. Didn't we, kids?” said Mr. Hartley.

“I have to admit, Dad was great,” Nora said. “We were a little worried we were going to see chicken chow mein every night, but we didn't. Not even once.”

Mrs. Hartley looked closely at Nora. “What did you do to your hair?”

“I had it professionally blow-dried yesterday,” Nora said. She shook her head back and forth to make her straight hair fly out around her. “I wanted to get it straightened, but Dad said I had to wait until you were home. Besides, I checked, and hair straightening is so expensive! Dad treated me to the blow dry, and I bought a round brush the stylist recommended. She showed me how to do this myself. I love it.”

“It looks very nice,” Mrs. Hartley said, “and if it makes you happy, that's wonderful. How was your date?”

“Great! But I'll have to tell you tomorrow.” Nora looked at the clock and started moving toward the door. “Kate's mom is picking me up in about ten minutes. We're going to play practice and then I'm spending the night at her house.”

“Have fun,” Mrs. Hartley called to Nora's disappearing back.

She sat at the table with Maura in her lap and sighed. “It's so nice to be home. Tom, would you get me a glass of water, please? Where's Thad?”

“Playing soccer. After that, he's going bowling with friends. And after
that,
” Mr. Hartley said, handing the water to his wife, “he's going over to his new girlfriend's house.”

“What happened to Emily?” said Mrs. Hartley.

“Long story. I'll tell you later.”

“How are you, Sophie?” Mrs. Hartley said. “I see you're headed out too.”

“Jenna and I are spending the night at Alice's. First I have to change Patsy's litter box, and then I have to eat lunch. Want me to make you a sandwich?” Sophie put her suitcase next to the back door and went to open the cabinets.

“Thanks, but I bought a sandwich in the airport and ate it on the plane. Well,” Mrs. Hartley said, as Maura held tight to her mother's necklace and contentedly sucked her thumb, “it certainly seems that everyone's in good shape and spirits around here. It's lovely to be home.”

“It's lovely to have you,” said Mr. Hartley.

When they kissed, John clutched his neck and made gagging noises. “Dad wasn't all lovey-dovey when you weren't here,” he said disgustedly.

“I'm glad to hear that, John,” said Mrs. Hartley. She sniffed the air. “Don't tell me you've even been baking, Tom.”

“John and I made brownies,” Mr. Hartley said. “Come on, let's go sit in the family room so you can be comfortable. I want to hear about the conference.”

“And I want to hear about what went on here.”

“The brownies are for tonight!” John announced, leaping around in front of his parents like an excited puppy as he led the way down the hall. “We're going to eat brownies and play Candy Land. The whole family.”

“It looks to me as if the older children are busy, John,” Mrs. Hartley said. “But you and Maura and Dad and I will have a good time.”

“Yes, John, the
older
children are busy,” Sophie said. She tried to toss her hair the way Nora had done, but it was too curly to move as easily. “Darn you, Mrs. Witherspoon,” she said haughtily as she opened a can of tuna fish. “It's all your fault.”

 

“I have to ask one more thing,” Alice said.

“
Al-
ice,” Jenna said impatiently. “Your five minutes are up.”

They were in Alice's bedroom, plotting what to do for the night. Sophie was sprawled on one of the twin beds. Jenna was rewinding her yo-yo for the millionth time.

“But—” Alice protested.

“We're done talking about it!” Jenna shouted.

“Please . . . ?”

“Go on, Alice. What?” Sophie said.

“Okay, if our bodies are like a car, then what's our brain?” said Alice.

Jenna sighed loudly.

Sophie thought for a second. “The steering wheel,” she said.

“Oh. That makes sense. What about our heart?”

“That's two things,” Jenna said.

“Your heart's like the engine,” Sophie said.

“So that means our feet are like the tires?” Alice said dubiously.

“Be quiet! Be quiet! Be quiet!” Jenna yelled, jumping up and down and waving her hands in the air. “We said no more questions! “You're an idiot!” she shouted. Jenna grabbed a pillow and hurled it at Alice, who hurled one back. All three of them started throwing pillows, laughing and shouting like crazy people.

When they were exhausted, they lay on the beds.

“Let's make a pact,” Sophie said. “No more talking about P-U until next year.”

“I second it,” said Jenna.

“Okay. But I feel better about it, don't you?” Alice said happily.

“I feel like cheese,” Jenna said.

“Eating cheese,” Sophie agreed, “and then putting on music and dancing.”

“Okay. And then maybe we can take pictures of ourselves with the new camera my dad gave me,” Alice said.

“I need one of the three of us,” said Sophie. “And I want each of us to be wearing one of the tie-dyed things you made.”

“Those nerdy things?” said Jenna.

“Okay, but first, let's go get the cheese.” Alice stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “Just one last thing,” she said quickly. “We won't talk about it again unless two of us feel like talking about it, and then we can as long as we don't include the other person.”

Another barrage of pillows put an end to the conversation.

 

“What's this?” said Mrs. Hartley the following evening.

“This way, my-dam,” John said formally. He stuck out his elbow for his mother to hold and led her into the dining room. With his other hand, he held up the bottom of the suit jacket he'd taken from Mr. Hartley's closet to wear over his underwear, so he wouldn't trip.

Thad, Sophie, and Nora had Googled “basic table manners.” The men were supposed to stay standing until the women sat down. Now Thad was standing behind his chair in a jacket and tie, waiting for his mother to sit down before he did.

“Fat chance around here,” Nora had said when they'd read it. She was wearing the sequined jacket and the new skirt she'd worn on her date, her new platform shoes, and her new straight hair.

Sophie had on her tiara, the one Nora had given her when she was nine. Sophie hadn't worn it in a while, and she had forgotten how it brought out her regal, queenly side. She planned on sitting up straight and talking with an English accent all through dinner.

She and Nora had set the dining-room table using the best china and silverware, a tablecloth, and candles. They put out wineglasses and a bottle of wine for Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, too. Mr. Hartley had even bought a cake. It had “Welcome Home” written on the top, surrounded by balloons. It sat on the sideboard, ready for dessert.

“We planned a special welcome-home dinner for you,” said Mr. Hartley. He pulled out the chair at one end of the table. “Please, sit down. I'll be right out with the dinner.”

Mr. Hartley came back carrying a meat loaf on Mrs. Hartley's best platter. It was surrounded by a sea of mashed potatoes studded with peas.

“John insisted,” said Mr. Hartley.

“I decorated it,” said John. “The peas are people drowning after a shipwreck.”

“Meat loaf again?” Sophie said. Then she caught herself and gave a polite cough. “I mean, I say! Meat loaf again! Jolly good!”

Nora rolled her eyes but all she said was, “So, Mother. How was your conference? Did you find it productive?”

“Yes, Nora,” Mrs. Hartley said. “Very productive. Thank you.”

There was a lull in the conversation.

“We had a very productive week at home, too, didn't we, Thad darling?” Nora said encouragingly.

“Thad darling?”
Mrs. Hartley mouthed to Mr. Hartley.

Thad frowned to have the ball suddenly lobbed into his court, but then he gamely smiled and said, “Very productive.”

“Mine was very, very, very productive,” said John.

“I think we've had enough productivity for the week,” said Mr. Hartley.

Thad sat up quickly, as if struck with a sudden inspiration. “I think we should let Mother talk about her conference,” he said gallantly.

“What did you
do
to them?” Mrs. Hartley asked Mr. Hartley in a low voice.

“I'm tired of the conference,” John said. “Dad let me brush my teeth in the bathtub every night. The water had the dirt from my feet and everything.”

“John!” said Nora. “Your manners!”

“How wonderfully hygienic, Tom,” Mrs. Hartley said.

“Yes,” said Sophie, “and Thad, I have to thank you for doing such a good job of explaining the facts of life to me.”