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Getting Even Page 14


  “This is great,” Annie said. “Your average tourist gets her picture taken at the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building. I get mine in front of an empty office building and the Abigail Adams Hotel for Women.”

  “You always were distinctive,” Robin said. “Come on, take my picture now. It’s easy.”

  “Sure,” Annie grunted. “Just press the button and pray.”

  “Focus first,” Robin instructed her. “Focus helps.”

  They’d hit the more traditional sights after that, enjoying the walk together. It was a beautiful autumn day in New York, and Annie could understand Chris’s father’s point about it. She felt as though she could conquer the world, solve all its problems as well as her own. Everything was possible, as long as she was surrounded by people who loved her.

  They had dinner at an Indian restaurant, satisfying Robin’s desire for something exotic and un-Ohio, and then, almost reluctantly, they’d taken the train back to Long Island. It had been a good day for all of them, Annie reflected. It was a day that had restored to her some of the feeling of camaraderie she had lost when they’d all said goodbye and left Image to return to the real world.

  The next morning Robin spent alone with Tim, while Annie visited with her grandmother. They talked about Annie’s plans for college and survival techniques for the rest of the school year.

  Tim drove Robin and Annie to the airport. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” Annie declared, as she got out of the car.

  Robin followed her out. “My stomach hurts,” she said. “But I don’t dare start crying, because if I do, I’ll never stop, and then we’ll both miss our flights.”

  “I won’t cry if you don’t,” Annie promised. “Besides, we’ll be seeing each other soon enough.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Robin said. “When?”

  “I don’t know,” Annie replied. “But nothing can keep the two of us apart for very long.”

  “I like your style,” Robin said, and they hugged one last time. “Fly carefully. And tell me everything that happens after you get back.”

  “Blow by blow,” Annie said, and began walking away. She didn’t envy Robin her leavetaking of Tim. One separation was enough for her that day.

  And now she was returning to the various crises she’d left behind just three days before. Somehow, though, she felt confident that she could handle them. And the letter to Torey was a good start.

  The plane trip was short enough and soon she walked into the airport and looked around for someone to take her home. Sure enough, there was her father, standing there in the waiting area.

  “Daddy!” she cried, as though she hadn’t seen him in years, as though the last time she’d seen him they’d been saying something more than “please pass the salt” and “see you later.”

  “Annie!” her father cried back, and they staged a reunion that must have convinced everybody at the airport that they were at least a divorced parent and child, reuniting for the first time in months. The hell with what people thought, Annie said to herself, as she and her father embraced. She felt as though it had been years, and this was a long-desired reunion.

  “Where’s Mom?” she asked, as they began to walk together.

  “She decided, we both felt, that you and I could use some time alone together,” Annie’s father declared, taking Annie’s overnight bag from her. “I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “That’s fine,” Annie said. “We need to talk.”

  “We sure do,” her father said. “I got a great parking space. I was surprised, it being a three-day weekend and all.”

  “Maybe my luck is changing,” Annie said, and they walked together in companionable silence to the parking space, which was as close as her father had promised.

  Annie’s father started the car and drove them out of the parking lot. “Did you have a good visit?” he asked. “How’s Robin? And Mom?”

  “They’re both fine, and send their love,” Annie replied. “Dad, I’m sorry.”

  “You and me both,” he said. “I suppose fathers and daughters are supposed to fight like that, but I can’t say I enjoyed it.”

  “It was awful,” Annie declared. “I hurt so much all last week. I never want to feel that way again.”

  “I can’t make any guarantees about that,” her father replied. “But I can tell you that your mother and I talked a lot about you while you were gone, you and me, I should say, and I’ve come to realize that I’m guilty of a lot of what you accused me of. I do say negative things to you, and I’ve never really listened as I’ve done it, so I never thought about how it must sound to you.”

  “It sounds lousy,” Annie told him.

  “I’m not surprised to hear it,” her father replied. “It’s a habit I picked up from my father, I’m afraid. He was such a worrier, that he was always afraid he would jinx things if he talked about them. So everything was phrased as though it was unlikely to happen. I never realized just how much I was like him until I talked things through with your mother. I want so much for you, that I live in terror that you’ll be disappointed. As though disappointment wasn’t part of the human condition. As though you couldn’t survive disappointment should it happen. So I make it sound as if nothing good is going to happen, just in case it doesn’t.”

  “But it does,” Annie pointed out. “I got the Image internship. Stacy Livingston did remember me.”

  “I’m overprotective,” her father replied. “Not in the traditional, get-in-by-10:00-P.M. ways. In a more superstitious way. Your mother reminded me that the entire time she was pregnant I kept telling her about how rough parenting was, what a misery our lives were going to be for the first few months at least. I’d forgotten all about that. Of course, I was half right then, but there was no way I could have known it. I just didn’t want Gail to think that being a mother was going to be easy, so she wouldn’t be disappointed if it wasn’t.”

  “I understand,” Annie said. “But I’d really appreciate it if you showed your protective instincts some other way. Because the thing is, Dad, there are moments when I really know I can do things, moments when I don’t feel like I’m just pretending to be competent, but I realize I genuinely am. And I like that feeling. I want to feel it all the time. And if you keep putting me down, then that feeling vanishes, and I’m just playacting at being successful.”

  “No one feels competent all the time,” Annie’s father replied. “A certain amount of bluff is part of the human condition. But I know you’re right, and I’m going to try. I can’t guarantee instant success, because we’re dealing here with a habit handed down from father to son. Traditions die hard. But feel free to call me on it. I may not hear myself all the time, but you do, and you can just tell me to stop it, and I will. I’ll probably get tired of apologizing for it after a while, but I promise you I’ll stop the instant you tell me.”

  “I’ve decided to apply to Princeton,” Annie said, “Stanford, and Yale.” It seemed like as good a time to test him as any.

  “Great schools, all of them,” her father replied. “And while I don’t think it would hurt if you included a safety school in your list, I have no doubt those colleges would be honored to have you in their freshman class.”

  Annie laughed. “I think you just may make it, Dad,” she told him.

  “I certainly plan to try,” he said. “Oh, by the way, there’s a message for you from Murray.”

  “Really?” Annie said. “Did he mention what he wanted?”

  “Just for you to call him,” her father replied. “He said he’d be at the office until late today.”

  “He can’t want to fire me again,” Annie said, waiting for her father to assure her that of course he could.

  But her father sensed the trap. “I don’t see why he should,” he said instead. “But I guess you won’t know until you talk to him.”

  “Nice, Dad,” Annie said, with a grin. “There’s hope for you yet.”

  “Enough already,” her father replied. “Tell me a
bout your weekend.”

  Annie did, and the drive was over almost before she knew it.

  “Did your father tell you that Murray called?” Annie’s mother asked, two minutes after Annie had walked into the house.

  “I told her, Gail,” Annie’s father declared. “We got our lives in order before I told her, but I did manage to remember.”

  “I don’t want Annie to miss him,” her mother said. “Maybe you’re not curious about what he wants, but I sure am.”

  “Fine, Mom,” Annie said. “I’ll call him right now, just to satisfy your curiosity.”

  “You’ll go far in this world,” her father said, and he and Annie exchanged smiles.

  Annie walked over to the phone and dialed Murray’s office. Murray answered the phone himself, and, Annie noticed, didn’t sound nearly as good as she did when she said “Murray Levine Associates.” There was no smile in his voice.

  “Hi, Murray, it’s Anne Powell,” Annie said. “I got a message that you called.”

  “The chicky is going to be on Boston Morning tomorrow,” Murray said, sounding more cheerful. “Sin pays, let me tell you.”

  “That’s great, Murray,” Annie said. “Not about sin, I mean.”

  “So I was wondering if you’d like to come back to work tomorrow, so we could celebrate properly,” Murray said. “Maddy said she’d bake chocolate chip cookies if you agreed, and believe me, Maddy’s chocolate chip cookies are sinful all on their very own.”

  “You’re on,” Annie told him. “I’ll be in right after school.”

  “Good,” Murray said. “You’re a smart kid, Anne.”

  “I’m not a kid, Murray,” Annie replied, but she doubted that he’d heard her, or that he would have believed her even if he had. It didn’t matter. The only way she was going to prove to Murray and the rest of the world that she was a grownup was by behaving like one. And even then, there was a fifty-fifty chance nobody would acknowledge it. Not until she had the years to back up the feeling.

  “I’m gainfully employed again,” she told her parents.

  “Great,” her mother said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I am too,” her father said. “Just as long as you keep up with your schoolwork.”

  “I have to,” Annie said. “If I want to get into Princeton, or Stanford, or Yale.”

  “What’s wrong with Barnard?” her mother asked. “Or Columbia? That way you live in New York while you go to school.”

  “I don’t think so, Mom,” Annie said, remembering how much she had loved spending the day in New York. “I don’t think I could handle the temptations.”

  “You know best, I suppose,” her mother said.

  “She does,” Annie’s father said. “Believe me, Gail, Annie knows best of all.”

  Annie gave him a kiss. “I’m going to mail this letter to Torey,” she said. “Before I chicken out.”

  “All right,” her mother said, and Annie scurried out. The mailbox was only a couple of blocks away, and it gave Annie just enough time to decide whether to call Chris at the dorm. As though there was anything to think about. Chris might not know enough to make the first move on his own, and if he didn’t, then the two of them were split up forever for no reason whatsoever. Of course she would call.

  As soon as she got back to the house she rushed to her room and dialed his number. Only Chris wasn’t in. “I don’t think he’s back from the weekend yet,” the boy on the other end said. “Any message?”

  “Just tell him Annie called,” Annie replied. “He knows my number.”

  “Okay,” the boy said, and Annie trusted him to give Chris the message. She didn’t have a choice in the matter, but she did decide that if she hadn’t heard by Wednesday night, she’d call again. Chris was worth a couple of phone calls.

  She decided to relax, and told her parents about the weekend. “You’d be proud of me, Dad,” she said. “Not only did I have a great time, but I did my homework too.”

  “I’d be proud of you anyway,” her father replied. “This way I’m proud and relieved.”

  Annie laughed. It felt so good to be laughing again. She almost resented it when she heard the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it,” she said, and opened the door.

  “Hello,” Chris said. “I’m working my way through college doing surveys.”

  “Yes,” Annie said.

  “Are you the daughter of the house?” Chris asked. “It’s very important that I talk to the daughter of the house.”

  “You’re talking to her,” Annie said, trying not to giggle.

  “Oh, good,” Chris said, looking relieved. “The question I have for the daughter of the house is ‘are you willing to talk to a perfect fool?’”

  “Don’t be silly,” Annie told him. “Nobody’s perfect.” And as the two of them laughed, she took Chris by the hand and led him back into her life.

  About the Author

  Susan Beth Pfeffer wrote her first novel, Just Morgan, during her last semester at New York University. Since then, she has written over seventy novels for children and young adults, including Kid Power, Fantasy Summer, Starring Peter and Leigh, and The Friendship Pact, as well as the series Sebastian Sisters and Make Me a Star. Pfeffer’s books have won ten statewide young reader awards and the Buxtehude Bulle Award.

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  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1986 by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  Cover design by Mimi Bark

  ISBN: 978-1-4976-8282-5

  This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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