Uncovering Sadie's Secrets (20 page)

I thought maybe she had the same idea because after awhile I felt her pulling the tight little hat on my head and securing it with a few pins. The pain stopped. Kerrie was finished.

“Open up, Bianca. It’s not that bad.”

I held my breath, and cautiously opened my eyes.

Not that bad? Not that bad? It was gorgeous! I didn’t recognize that girl in the mirror.

Gone was my “sorry, I didn’t mean to give the impression I thought I was pretty” look, complete with mussed hair and pale features. In its place was someone sophisticated and suave, someone who combed her hair.

With her constant brushing, Kerrie had made my hair fall into neat shiny waves that bustled out from under the cloche hat in a charmingly soft cloud. With the make-up and the dress, I looked pretty. Not “maybe I am but I’ll just pretend I’m not” pretty. Really pretty. Pretty as in “I know I look good and I don’t care.”

This was a whole new experience for me. I was going to start paying more attention to my hair and dress after this night.

“Well?” Kerrie put the hairbrush down on the vanity and stared at me in the mirror.

“Well, it’s great! Thanks.” I reached up and touched it to make sure it was real. “Do you think you could come over every day and do this before school?”

Kerrie laughed. “You come over here. And you set it every night.”

“Hmm. . . I don’t know about that.” Staring in the mirror, I was beginning to think that pin-curls every night really wasn’t all that steep a price to pay for this kind of loveliness.

“We better get moving.” Kerrie picked up a fan to go with her costume and opened her bedroom door. “Want to get my CDs all lined up. And the candles lit.”

Kerrie’s mom and dad oohed and aahed over us when we went downstairs, but there wasn’t much time for soaking up compliments. The CD organization alone occupied a great deal of thought and discussion. Then we had the candles to light, punch to put out, tables to arrange. Time passed quickly, which was a good thing because there’s nothing worse than pre-party jitters. Well, some things are worse. But pre-party stomach flips are no fun either.

In fact, we were occupied with a major restructuring of the backyard party space when the first guests started to arrive. Kerrie decided, at the last minute, that her tiny backyard would probably end up as the most popular gathering spot. In order to make more room there, she wanted to move the family’s gas grill into the basement and replace it with some more chairs. Her dad obliged after trying to talk her out of it, and she and her mom dusted off some old lawn chairs from the basement. The first guests helped us set them up against the high wooden fence that walled in the Daniels’patch of yard.

The music was pulsing away and folks were actually laughing when Doug arrived. True to his word, he was dressed as an FBI agent. Wearing a suit that looked a tad too big for him, he sported dark sunglasses, a phony laminated ID that would have fooled anybody in the dark yard, and a grim countenance that broke into a wide and fanciful grin when he saw me.

That’s right. Doug really lit up when he saw me. He even said, “Bianca, you look fantastic!” It was as if the air had been knocked right out of me. Really.

I had trouble speaking. I didn’t know what to say. I mumbled something like “Thanks.” Or maybe it was “Tanks.” Or “Yanks.” My mouth wasn’t working right. All I know was that my world started to swirl when he came over and grabbed my elbow and led me to one of those recently dusted lawn chairs, and then asked me if I wanted a soda or something.

“Yes. That would be great. There’s going to be pizza,” I managed to say.

Doug was back in a few minutes with a cola for me and a root beer for him and before you could say “trick-or-treat” we were actually talking and finally getting to know each other. It was great. I hadn’t realized what a really cool guy he is. He wants to be an engineer, he told me. And maybe work for NASA or something like that.

“Have you thought about what you want to study in college?” he asked me.

“Um, law, or uh justice, prosecuting. . . things,” I said, “although I wouldn’t mind doing what my sister does. Private investigating.” I was just about to tell him about my sort-of investigation of Sadie when the pizzas arrived, and right after them came another crowd of partygoers.

To my surprise and Kerrie’s delight, almost everyone wore costumes. There were presidential masks, French maids, apes, soldiers, and animals. There was even a ghost or two.

As Doug and I ate a piece of pizza a few minutes later, I noticed a thin, dark wraith standing alone, near the gate to the alley. It was Sadie. She
had
come.

Despite my growing closeness to Doug, I couldn’t resist. I had to find out.

“Sarah,” I called out just loud enough for her to hear. “Sarah McEvoy.”

She turned and looked, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth slightly open.

A
SECOND later, Sadie turned and started toward the kitchen. She was going to leave! I couldn’t let her. Not now. Not after coming so far, and getting so close.

“Doug, would you get me another soda? I want to say hi to Sadie.” I jumped up and ran after Sadie while Doug dutifully went over to the refreshment table.

The party was really going well by this time, which meant it was crowded. Wall-to-wall people. Hard-to-get-through. Lots of “excuse me’s” just to travel a few feet. By the time I’d pushed my way into the warm kitchen, I was sure Sadie would be long gone.

She wasn’t. She had been hampered by the same throngs of teeming humanity that had stopped me. Caught between a vampire and a goddess, Sadie was desperately trying to make her way into the living room and out onto the street.

(Good grief. That was Brenda Watson in the goddess outfit. Only Brenda would come up with an idea like that. Not only did she look spectacular with her creamy skin showing off under the artfully draped—and very thin—white fabric. She got to explain to everybody exactly which goddess she was, which meant she had looks and small talk all rolled into one tidy package. But I digress.)

Sadie sensed movement behind her and turned to see me coming after her.

“Wait!” I yelled over the thumping music, giggles, chatter, and Brenda Watson’s lecture on goddesses in Greco-Roman history.

Her mouth opening again, a perplexed-looking Sadie didn’t move. That was good. I managed to push my way past a giant spider, a Batman (boy, was that costume ever a mistake on scrawny Bobby Lagusta), and two Zorro’s. I gently touched Sadie’s elbow and directed her back through the kitchen.

“Why were you leaving? The party’s just getting started.” We stood on the tiny porch that overlooked the tiny yard.

“I—I don’t know. Tired, I guess.” Her face was white as a sheet and not because she’d smeared make-up on it either. This was the real thing. This was scared white. “I thought I heard someone— what did you call me?” She looked right in my eyes and I suspected she wanted me to say “Sadie.” So I did.

“Sadie. Sadie Sinclair,” I lied. Then genius struck. “Sadie Mauvais Sinclair.” I nearly whispered it, but she heard it all the same and whitened again. “You stole her name. The artist who lives in the part of California where you’re from. Sadie Mauvais Sinclair.” I spoke rapidly as inspiration took hold. “You took her name as your own.”

“I did not steal her identity.” Sadie pounded her left fist on the railing for emphasis. “I didn’t. You can’t accuse me of that. I didn’t do it.” Tears started to come to her eyes. Exactly what Pandora’s box was I opening here? (For an explanation on “Pandora’s Box,” please consult Greek expert Brenda Watson.)

“You’re Sarah. Sarah McEvoy,” I said quietly, reaching out to touch her hand. I didn’t want her to feel threatened. I wanted to help her. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Are you ashamed of it or something? You shouldn’t be. Everybody thinks their family is embarrassing. . .”

I was rambling. And if anyone was embarrassing, it was me with my phony-baloney “my door is always open, I want to help you” guidance-counselor chit-chat.

A tear drifted down Sadie’s cheek and I felt about as low as a real spider. Making someone cry (other than a sibling) did not rank high on my “great experiences” list.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “You don’t know.” She shook her head back and forth.

“I want to know. I want to help.” I touched her elbow again and started to steer her down into the yard, where the crowd was a little thinner. “Come on. We can sit down and talk.”

To my surprise and relief, she went with me. We’d just settled in on the chairs in the corner when Doug appeared with my drink.

“Here you go. You want something, Sadie?” he asked, smiling at me. “You really look great in that costume, Bianca. Jesse thinks so, too.”

An endorsement by a friend of your crush is like winning the lottery. This was good stuff—stuff I needed to cash in on pronto.

Too many things were happening at once. Where was Kerrie when I needed her? Actually, she was playing hostess, making sure food and drink and music were in plentiful supply.

“Sadie wants a soda, too. Thanks, Doug.” I smiled up at him and actually felt good about smiling, knowing that I looked good in my flapper costume. I had a sudden sense of clothes-nostalgia. Why couldn’t I live in a time when dressing up was no big deal?

As soon as Doug left, I scooted closer to Sadie, dropping my head down so she could hear me speaking quietly.

“So you’re really Sarah. What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I’m not in trouble,” she insisted, shaking her head again. “I got out of trouble. Why can’t everyone leave me alone?” Tears were welling up again, so I started talking fast.

“You’re starting over. That’s a great thing. Nobody can fault you for that. But what about Lemming Lady and Ice Man? Why are they after you?”

She looked at my like I was crazy. Uh-oh. Did I just say “Lemming Lady and Ice Man?” I really said that? Could someone please rewind the tape?

“I mean that woman and that man? Why are they after you?”

“They’re not after me. They went away.” Her voice took on an urgent, almost angry tone. “They needed to borrow some money. That’s all. They were friends of my mother.”

“Your mother died last year. I bet that was tough.”

“Not so tough. Not as tough as other things.” Sadie sounded as if she didn’t mean it. In fact, her voice cracked a little when she spoke. “I can take care of myself. I have for a long time.”

“How did your mother die? Was it an accident or something?”

Sadie stood abruptly. “I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. Leave me alone. You’re not helping me, Bianca. Now that you know—I’ll have to—you’ve ruined everything!” She stomped away just as Doug arrived on the scene with her drink.

“Hey, I thought she was thirsty!” He put the drink on a nearby table. The music stopped its thwump-thwump beat and turned into something mellow and slow. Doug looked over at me with a gaze that I can only describe as hungry. It sent a little shiver down my back.

Too bad nobody was dancing. If they were, he’d have asked me to dance. I’m sure of it. Instead, he reached over—and here things kind of slowed down as if the tape were being run at the wrong speed—and he grabbed—my—hand! Ay-chihuahua! Mama mia! Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!

“Uh. . . well. . . I. . .” I said. Oh yeah. Great conversation. Way to go, Bianca. Remind me never to enter the Miss America contest. I’d fall to pieces on the questions part.

Doug didn’t seem to mind. He maneuvered us back to the seats and settled in really close to me, his leg pressing up against mine. I swallowed. He smiled. It was dark in our little corner. His face came a little closer. I could smell “Irish Spring” soap on his cheek. His lids lowered. He was zeroing in for a kiss.

Sensory overload! I canna hold her any longer, Cap’n! Warning, warning!

His lips were just a millimeter away, which I knew because I was now trying to memorize every nanosecond of the experience, taking down each observation in some mental journal that I would reveal to Kerrie later that night.

But my powers of observation were my undoing. Just as he was about to plant his puckered mouth on mine, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, through the slats in the tall wooden fence.

Lemming Lady! I knew her from the clack of her high-heeled boots as much as by her black outfit. And behind her, Ice Man.

Doug only had time to brush my lips with a gentle kiss before I pulled away. Sadie was at the gate, getting ready to leave. Despite what she had said about the Daring Duo, I knew they still wanted something from her, or had her in some kind of bind. They were trouble. And she was heading right into it. I shot up, surprising both Doug and myself.

“Sadie!” I called. Looking down at Doug, my heart screamed at my mind. “Idiot alert! You just left the Love of Your Life’s first kiss because of Lemming Lady, Ice Man, and Sadie-Sarah? Are you
nuts
?”

“Doug,” I said gently, “I think Sadie might need our help. Sorry.” I pushed my way through the crowd as Sadie opened the gate. Even from a few feet away, I could see her reaction as she ran into Lemming Lady. Sadie’s face was now ashen. They pushed their way into the party, backing her into the crowd. They fit right in. They looked like villains.