Best Friends (7 page)

L
ISA TURNED ON
another light. It was completely dark outside and the house seemed cold. She’d finished her homework. There wasn’t much to do now that they were so close to the winter holiday, and it had all been easy.

She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Her mother had made a casserole the night before. Lisa took it out, turned the oven to what seemed to be a reasonable temperature, and slid the dish in. She looked at the clock. It was 6:30, so her mother would be home soon.

She walked to the window and looked out. The snow had stopped, leaving a few inches on the ground—enough to cover last week’s snow, enough that her neighbor was sweeping his walkway, enough that there was going to be a snowman in the yard across the street, but not enough to close school or stop businesses.

She took out some placemats and silverware and began to set the kitchen table.

While she’d been doing her homework, she’d once again noticed the blank application for the show. She was going to have to do something about it. She could offer to pay some of the registration fee, but she knew she’d need her parents to pay most of it if she was going to be in the CI at all.

On one hand, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. Her parents had paid for her to be in many shows in the past. But they hadn’t been separated then, and they hadn’t been talking about money being tight. It had just been an entry fee—no big deal at all. So why was it a big deal now?

Lisa took the nice napkins out of the linen drawer. She put crystal glasses on the table. Even though they were just eating a casserole in the kitchen, there was no law that said the table couldn’t be pretty.

As soon as her mother got home … Well, as soon as she’d taken off her coat and sat down … Or maybe if they had a little visit in the living room after dinner—then she would ask. She only needed seventy-five dollars. Oh, and there would be some expenses once she got to the show, like food and stuff. She’d need a new hoof pick—no, she could borrow Stevie’s. She’d definitely ask her mother tonight. How could she say no to something like that?

The kitchen door opened, and Mrs. Atwood came in. Lisa gave her a welcome-home hug. Her mother hugged her back, then smiled when she saw the table set and the casserole in the oven.

“But that’s my best crystal!” she said, noticing the sparkling glasses.

“I thought they’d be pretty.”

“And the linen napkins? They have to go to the laundry.”

“I’ll iron them,” said Lisa. “I just wanted it to be nice.”

Mrs. Atwood shrugged out of her coat and took off her boots.

“Thanks, honey,” she said. “It is nice.”

She looked tired. Even from across the room, Lisa could sense her mother’s stress and fatigue.

“Long day?”

“Very,” she said. “But the good news is that my boss gave me extra hours. I need to work all the time I can, you know.”

“I know,” said Lisa. She went to the refrigerator and took out the milk. Her mother picked up the day’s mail and glanced through it.

“Oh, good,” she said. “It’s double coupon week at the supermarket.”

Double coupon week had not always been a special occasion in the Atwood household. Lisa’s heart sank. She’d been kidding herself about going to the CI, and she knew it.

Lisa answered the phone when it rang, because her mother was studying the coupons.

“It’s Veronica,” the voice on the other end said.

In spite of her low mood, Lisa almost laughed. Anybody else in the world would have delivered a greeting and some
sort of pleasantry, like “hello.” Veronica felt the need only to announce herself.

“Hi,” Lisa returned.

“You’ve got my wallet?”

“Yes, because I thought you might want it tonight and nobody was going to be at Pine Hollow, so I brought it home.”

“Well, I do need it,” Veronica said.

“Then isn’t it a good thing I brought it home with me?”

“I guess so,” Veronica said. “Look, my mom and I are going back to the mall after dinner. I’ll stop by your house and pick it up then. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Lisa.

“You’ll have it ready?”

“It’s not going anywhere,” Lisa assured her.

“See you later, then,” said Veronica.

“You’re welcome,” Lisa said into the silent telephone. Veronica had already hung up.

After dinner, when the dishes were done, Lisa brought
Gone With the Wind
down to the living room to read. She turned on the reading light and settled into the sofa while her mother tried to balance her checkbook.

Lisa was startled by the sound of the doorbell. She had almost forgotten that Veronica was coming by. Her mother opened the door before Lisa could get to it.

“Oh, come in! How nice to see you! Would you like some after-dinner coffee? Perhaps a drink? Veronica, we haven’t seen you here in a long time. Don’t be a stranger!”

Lisa nearly gagged. Her mother simply couldn’t resist being sweet to someone as socially prominent as Mrs. diAngelo, no matter how much Lisa told her she disliked Veronica.

The diAngelo women came into the living room. Lisa stood up and offered her hand to Veronica’s mother, who paid as much attention to that as her daughter usually paid to anything Lisa ever did.

“You have my wallet?” Veronica asked with her usual grace.

“It’s in my room,” Lisa said.

Veronica tried, unsuccessfully, to mask her irritation that Lisa didn’t have it waiting by the door.

“Why don’t you girls go upstairs together for the wallet while we have a little visit down here,” Mrs. Atwood suggested.

Veronica followed Lisa to her bedroom.

“You’re on your way to the mall?” Lisa asked.

“Well, I’ve got to get a new pair of boots before the show,” said Veronica. “I mean, my old ones have gotten marks all over them. I told Red to polish them for me, but he insists that they’re scratches and they’re not going to go
away. I can’t compete in scratched-up boots! And then there’s my jacket. It’s from last year, you know. Styles change—even in riding clothes.”

No, of course Veronica couldn’t compete in scratched boots and an old jacket. Lisa understood that completely. It seemed bitterly unfair that she was worried about whether her parents might be able to help pay her entry fees while Veronica was busy outfitting herself with hundreds of dollars’ worth of new clothes.

Lisa picked up the wallet from her desk. “Here,” she said, handing it to Veronica.

Veronica took it and without hesitating did exactly what Lisa knew she would do: She opened it up to be sure all her cash was there.

“I had Mrs. Reg count it,” Lisa said. “It’s all there.”

“Of course,” said Veronica. She sat down at Lisa’s desk while she slid the wallet into her purse. “But you never know who’s going to be around at a public place like Pine Hollow.”

Lisa did not dignify that with any response. She sat down on her bed and watched with amazement while Veronica shuffled idly through the papers on her desk—as if she were double-checking to be sure all the grades were As. They were.

Suddenly Veronica stopped. Lisa thought her face paled.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Um,” Veronica said.

Lisa stood up and walked over to where Veronica was frozen and apparently unable to speak.

Veronica had her hand on a sheet of paper on Lisa’s desk. Lisa glanced to see what it was. It was the application for the CI.

“You sent yours in, didn’t you?” Lisa asked.

“No, I didn’t get it yet,” said Veronica.

“Well, you sent away for it, didn’t you?”

“Not yet,” Veronica admitted.

This was bad news. “Veronica, the deadline is past,” Lisa said. “The rules were pretty specific about that. You won’t be allowed to apply now. Weren’t you getting your father’s secretary to do it for you?”

“She’s been on vacation,” Veronica said weakly. “She never got my message.”

“Oh no,” said Lisa. She wasn’t really in the business of comforting Veronica diAngelo, but right at that moment, Veronica looked like she needed comforting.

“We’ve made our reservations and everything,” Veronica said. “The plane, the hotel—everything.”

“Look, I’m sure if you explain the situation,” Lisa said. “Like call first thing in the morning …”

“They’ll understand, I know,” said Veronica. “I’ll have Max call for me.”

Lisa didn’t think Max would be likely to do that and she told Veronica as much. “He’s pretty big on individual responsibility,” she said.

“Well, then, I’ll have Daddy call,” said Veronica.

Lisa wasn’t sure that would work, either, but there was no point in telling her that.

“Or you could just give me a copy of this one,” said Veronica, pointing to Lisa’s application.

“No copies allowed,” Lisa said, showing her where the form said that. “It has to be the original. They’d know if you sent in a copy.”

“Well, it’s a silly rule,” said Veronica. “I’m sure they make exceptions every day, and I’m sure they’ll make an exception for me. Don’t you think so?”

Lisa didn’t think so, but she saw no point in sharing her opinion with Veronica.

“I guess we’d better get going,” said Veronica, standing up purposefully.

Lisa followed her downstairs and waved to her and Mrs. diAngelo as they left. Neither waved back.

She closed the door and clicked the latch, locking it for the night. Her mother was standing in the hallway.

“Odd woman,” Lisa’s mother said.

“And her daughter’s no better,” said Lisa.

Lisa reached out to give her mother a hug. Her mother
hugged her back. As the two of them stood there, Lisa realized that even though Veronica’s wallet was filled with credit cards and cash, she wouldn’t trade anything to be in Veronica’s shoes. In fact, she’d rather be poor all her life than behave like Veronica for one day.

“I
CAN
’
T BELIEVE IT
!” Stevie sputtered as she and Lisa walked to school together the next morning.

Lisa had sensed that Stevie was in a foul mood from the moment she saw her stomping toward her house. She hadn’t wanted to ask, but now she felt a little trapped.

“What’s the matter?” she offered.

“Look at this snow!” said Stevie. “A snowman here, a fort there, and it’s still not enough to close school!”

“Didn’t finish your homework, huh?” Lisa asked.

“I got most of it done,” said Stevie.

“Don’t worry,” said Lisa. “You’ll think of a good excuse by the time you get to school.”

“Well, the worst part is that I was counting on having a
snow day to get to the mall to do some Christmas shopping.”

“You don’t have any money,” Lisa reminded her.

“I’ve got a couple of dollars,” she protested. “I could have gotten something.”

“You should have gone with Veronica and her mother,” Lisa said. “They were there after dinner. I know because she stopped by to pick up her wallet.”

“What were they buying?” Stevie asked, not that she really cared.

“New boots and a new jacket. She wants to look perfect for the show.”

“She’s going to have to look pretty fantastic to overcome her questionable riding skills,” Stevie said.

“Well, she never looks fantastic enough to overcome her questionable personality,” Lisa said. “You wouldn’t believe how rude she was. After she left, I took a vow of lifelong poverty so I’d never, ever, ever, ever behave the way she did.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with money,” Stevie said. “She’d be obnoxious if she were poor. You can have as much money as you want. There’s no excuse for behaving the way she does.”

“Do you mean to tell me that there are rich people who know how to say thank you?”

“Yes, I’m sure there are. They just aren’t named diAngelo.”

Lisa laughed. “That’s comforting,” she said. “Okay, I’ll be rich then. And I’ll say thank you.”

They arrived at Fenton Hall and Stevie headed to the door. Lisa said good-bye and told her she’d see her that afternoon, but Stevie barely acknowledged her. Lisa knew Stevie wasn’t trying to be rude. She was trying to decide how to explain the absence of homework to a couple of her teachers.

Lisa hurried on to her own school, relieved that she didn’t have to do the same.

L
ISA WAS THE
first of The Saddle Club to get to the stable that afternoon. Although she was looking forward to seeing her friends, she was glad for a little bit of quiet time to spend with Prancer. She had some decisions to make, and she had the feeling they would be easier if she talked them over with Prancer than with Carole and Stevie.

She went to pick up her grooming bucket in the tack room, but as she passed Max’s office, she couldn’t help hearing the loud voices coming from inside. Actually there was only one loud voice, and it was Veronica’s. The door was closed. She couldn’t hear what this afternoon’s tantrum was about, but she could sure tell it was a tantrum. Max spoke softly, but in his firm instructor’s voice, in response to Veronica’s rants. In spite
of her curiosity, Lisa didn’t want to eavesdrop. Veronica’s tantrums were rarely worth listening to.

She picked up her bucket and went straight to Prancer’s stall.

The mare lifted her head alertly when Lisa arrived, anticipating a nice grooming. Lisa patted her cheek in the special way that Prancer loved and reached into her pocket for the carrot she’d saved from lunch. Prancer lipped it out of her palm and chomped contentedly.