Chasing Shadows (2 page)

“Well, you be sure to tell her I said hello.”

“I will.” Her eyes shone as she smiled at Dad. Then she told us she'd give us a few more minutes to look at the menu. As she said this, she gave Mom and me a stern look, as if to remind us that poor Dad was hungry and we should hurry up.

We were ready with our selections when she came back. Dad ordered prime rib while Mom and I chose chicken Caesar salads. Nadine brought over a wicker basket containing rolls and garlic bread and told us our meals wouldn't be long.

Dad was buttering a roll when he noticed the sign.

“Well, look over there, Shelby,” he said, pointing. “You were talking about getting a job once you turned sixteen.”

I turned and saw a notice that said “Kitchen Help Wanted” posted under the cash register.

After we'd eaten, I told my folks I was going to look into the job for a kitchen helper.

“I'll go ask for an application while you two have your coffee,” I said, standing up. They smiled encouragingly as I turned to head toward the cash register.

The lady who'd seated us when we first arrived was there. Something about her made me a bit nervous, though I can't quite explain why. Maybe it was just because she was a stranger to me. Or it could have been the way she was dressed, all elegant looking, and how she carried herself, so tall and thin. When I asked about the opening that was posted, she gave me a cool smile, the kind that stops at the mouth instead of spreading up to the eyes.

“I'm Lisa, the manager,” she said. “Have you worked in a restaurant before?”

“No, ma'am. I'm just turning sixteen this week so I'm looking for my first job.”

“I see.” Another chilly smile.

“Come with me.”

Surprised that she wanted to interview me after finding out that I had no experience, I followed her into a small office beside the kitchen. She waved me into a chair and then perched, half sitting and half standing, against the desk.

“So, tell me something about yourself.”

That threw me, let me tell you. I'd been expecting her to ask specific questions, like, did I know how to chop vegetables and do dishes and stuff. I cast about in my head for something to say.

“Uh, my name is Shelby Belgarden and I'm almost sixteen,” I started off lamely, then remembered with some embarrassment that I'd just told her that only seconds before. “I'm in the tenth grade at school. I haven't worked before but I've done some babysitting, and I help Mom in the kitchen a lot.”

She nodded without any sign of interest and said nothing. Instead, she seemed to be waiting for me to continue.

“I'm reliable and trustworthy,” I added at last. My mouth was dry; I wished I could ask for a glass of water. “Oh, and I can work evenings and weekends for now, but the school year is finished in a couple of weeks. I'd be available any time during the summer holidays.”

“All right, Shelby, that's fine.”

I thought she was indicating that the interview was over. I was about to get up to leave the room when she spoke again. “The cook will tell you what you have to do.”

With astonishment, I realized that she'd actually meant I was hired. I tried to look calm, so she wouldn't see how excited I was.

“Can you start right away?”

“Right away?” For a second I thought she wanted me to roll up my sleeves and head to the kitchen.

“This week?” She looked amused, as though she'd read my mind. “Saturday maybe?”

“Oh, uh, Saturday is my birthday. My mom has this big party planned.” I felt like a fool, explaining that I couldn't come in for the first date she'd mentioned. “Everyone's already invited.”

“Yes, the birthday. Sixteen.” Her lips twisted in what seemed to be distaste. I couldn't tell if it was because I couldn't work on Saturday or because I was so young.

“Sorry.”

“So then, Sunday?”

“Sure, Sunday would be fine.”

“Come at ten o'clock. Black pants, white top. Hair must be tied back. Bring your social insurance number. We will see how it goes after a few weeks.” She slid from the edge of the desk and reached the door in two
quick strides. She pulled it open and waited for me to go out first.

I thanked her and hurried back to the table where Mom and Dad were waiting. They looked at me inquisitively.

I could picture Mom squealing and getting all excited at the news. Since there were quite a few other people around, I thought I'd spare myself that kind of scene.

“Well?” Mom asked before I'd sat all the way down.

“I'll tell you in the car.”

“Oh, dear.” Mom looked crestfallen. I guess she thought if I didn't want to say anything while we were still there, it hadn't gone well. She reached over and patted my hand. At the same time, she offered me a consoling look.

“Well, I'm ready to go whenever you girls are,” Dad said, reaching for his wallet. We all got up, and he paid the bill and left a big tip for Nadine.

“You mustn't be discouraged,” Mom told me as soon as we climbed into the car. “There are other places to work.”

“I start Sunday,” I answered.

“What? You mean you got the job?” Just as I'd expected, her voice rose in excitement. “My goodness, why didn't you say so right away?”

“I wanted it to be a private moment,” I said hastily.

“Well, that's just wonderful! Isn't it wonderful, Randall?”

“It's real nice. Good for you, Shelby. Congratulations.” Dad smiled at me in the rear-view mirror.

“Can you imagine,” Mom went on, “our girl getting the
very first
job she applies for. How many young people can say that? Right on the spot like that too.”

“Actually, I was only hired on a trial basis,” I said quickly. “She said she'd see how it went for the first few weeks.”

“Well, you'll do fine, dear. You have to think positive!”

“Yes, Mom.” We were getting close to home, and I suddenly had an urge to escape from my mother's enthusiasm. Or maybe that was just an excuse I dreamed up because I wanted to see Greg.

“Uh, Dad, could you drop me off at Broderick's? I'd like to tell Greg about my job.”

“Sure thing,” Dad agreed. He turned in to the gas station when we reached it, and I hopped from the car and hurried inside.

Greg didn't notice me coming until I swung the door open. He was engrossed in his math textbook, and I knew he was studying for final exams, which were coming up the next week. When he looked up, his face broke into a wide smile.

“Hey! This is a nice surprise.” He stood, setting the book on the counter. “What's up?”

“We just came from that new restaurant downtown — The Steak Place,” I said breathlessly. “And guess what! I got a job there!”

“You didn't leave a whole lot of time for me to guess,” Greg laughed. “Anyway, that's great. Are you going to be a waitress?”

“No, a kitchen helper. I think I probably have to peel potatoes and stuff like that. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but at least I'll be making some money.”

“Well, you'll be the cutest vegetable peeler in town.”

“Yeah, that's what I've been longing to be known as — a cute vegetable peeler.”

“Hey, it'll look great on your resumé. Besides, not everyone can land a really cool job right off the bat, like I did. I've been dreaming about pumping gas ever since I was a little kid. The only bad thing about it is how women are always coming on to me. I think it's because of the uniform.”

“All that brown polyester
is
pretty sharp,” I giggled.

“I bet it makes you want to kiss me.” He nodded knowingly.

“Well, I
am
only human.”

“No one would blame you if you couldn't help yourself.” He leaned forward slightly, smiling.

If you want the truth, I didn't even try to resist.

In spite of my warnings (and her promises) Mom went way overboard with the balloons. They were
everywhere
, hanging from light fixtures, doorways, and ceilings, stuck to walls, bursting out of vases in bloated bouquets, and just lying about the floor. The colour explosion was enough to hurt a person's eyes. At least none of them were pink, though some of the ones she insisted were burgundy looked suspiciously close to fuchsia to me.

I figured she must be afflicted with some kind of weird compulsive decorating disease and couldn't help herself, so I didn't complain. Besides, Greg had arrived before anyone else, and he thought the house looked great.

Greg's mom died a year ago, which gives him a bit of a different outlook on the insane things moms can
do sometimes. I have to admit it helps me see my own mom in a softer light when she does something that irritates me — like she had with the balloons.

“The place looks amazing,” Greg told Mom. “You must have spent hours and hours decorating.”

“Oh, I didn't mind,” she said, pleased. “Anything for my little girl.”

For her little girl indeed! The truth is that
she's
the one who goes all crazy over stuff like this. Well, if it meant that much to her, I guessed I could just let her enjoy it and not mention that.

My best friend, Betts, was the next to arrive. Without even saying hello, she grabbed my arm and pulled me to a corner in the front hallway.

“Tell me you didn't invite Derek,” she said, in a tone that sounded like she was issuing a command.

“Of course I did. He's your boyfriend, remember?”

“You mean he
was
my boyfriend,” she said. “I ditched him this afternoon. He'd better not show up here tonight.”

“But I thought everything was going great with you and Derek.” As I spoke, I looked for signs that she might be teasing. Betts is pretty transparent most of the time, so I figured if she was making it up — for whatever reason — I'd be able to tell. Her face seemed normal to me, though, so it I decided it was true.

“We were okay until he decided to turn into a total jerk.” Betts tossed her head back, her mouth pinched in a pout. This only lasted a few seconds, though, and then she snapped back to normal. Well, normal might not be quite the right word for Betts.

“Look at this place!” she squealed. “Your mom went
insane
with the balloons!”

“Yeah, I know.” I was impatient to find out what had happened with Derek, and more guests would be coming any minute, making it impossible. Betts had been going out with him for months and they seemed really well-suited to each other. In fact, it was one of the longest relationships she'd ever had. The suddenness of the breakup was strange enough, but her apparent indifference was really unsettling.

“I mean, she must have bought every balloon in town,” Betts giggled. “It looks like the balloon factory blew up in here.”

“Betts!” I said sharply. “Never mind that right now. What happened with you and Derek?”

“Oh, that.” She tried to look bored, as though the subject was of no interest to her whatsoever. “He's history.”

“But
why
, Betts?” I'd never had so much trouble getting information out of her in all the years we'd been friends.

“We had a fight, a big one.” She shrugged, like she
didn't care, but there was a barely perceptible tremble in her lip and a catch in her throat. “He said I was controlling, that I
always
have to have my own way, and that he can't even breathe when I'm ordering him around all the time.”

Betts
is
a bit bossy at times, so I could kind of see Derek's point, but she's not
that
bad. Anyway, my main concern wasn't who was right, it was how Betts was feeling. It was starting to be pretty clear that she was putting on a brave front, probably on account of not wanting to spoil anything for me on my birthday.

“So you dumped him?” I asked, not really knowing what else to say.

“Yeah.” She sounded miserable. It seemed the cover-up was crumbling fast.

“Well, was he upset about it?”

“I don't know. Anyway, who cares?” As she spoke, she tilted her chin up and smiled. Even if I hadn't known her well enough to see through that, the act she was trying to put on was contradicted by the tears suddenly brimming in her eyes.

“Oh, Betts, it'll be okay. I bet he feels worse than you do.”

“Who says I feel bad?” she sniffed, then burst into sobs.

“Come on, let's go get some punch and not think about it right now,” I said, putting my arm around her
shoulder. “But you mark my words, you and Derek will be back together before I have my first full week in at work.”

I'd hoped to distract her by mentioning the job, and it worked. She seemed to forget her problems with Derek for the moment, asking me questions about how I got hired and what I was going to be doing.

Before we'd even finished talking about it, other kids were arriving and things started to get busy. It looked as though the evening would go smoothly.

Then Derek came. He stood at the door, shifting from foot to foot and looking at the step.

“I wasn't sure if I was still invited or not,” he said.

I didn't know either, to tell the truth. It was hard to predict how Betts would react — whether she'd be upset or glad to see him. My take on his attitude was that he was pretty glum about the breakup and might be hoping to patch things up, but that didn't guarantee how she'd feel.

“Just wait here for a sec,” I told him. It took a minute to find Betts, and when I first whispered that Derek was at the door she looked happy in spite of everything that she'd said earlier. Just as quickly as her face lit up, though, she pushed it aside and scowled.

“Why don't you go talk to him,” I suggested. “I didn't know whether or not I should ask him in, in case it bothered you.”