May wanted to know what we were all talking about so intensely. Cary signed and explained, mimicking my playing the fiddle. H
er eyes lit up with encouragement.
"See, Ma, even May wants her to bring it along, and she can't even hear."
"Oh dear," Aunt Sara said, wringing her hands.
"Stop it," I told him sharply. "You're going to get me into trouble."
With a tiny smile on his face, he finished eating his breakfast quietly. On the way to school, I chastised him. "You shouldn't tease your mother that way, Cary Logan."
"I wasn't teasing. I'd like you to play your fiddle, too. It will spice up the dinner party. I've been to enough of them at Grandma's to know what to expect. They could use some excitement."
"Well under the circumstances, I'm not feeling much like fiddling. It only reminds me of my daddy and Grandma Olivia's house is no place to be thinking about him," I said bitterly.
Cary's impish grin faded. "Maybe if they heard you play and learned more about your father after he and Haille left here, they'd be more inclined to feel sorry about things, too," he offered.
"They should feel sorry! My daddy's gone and the damage that was done is done forever and ever."
Cary was silent. The subject sank deeply in the pool of our thoughts. We dropped May at her school and continued to our own, reviewing the material Cary would have on his English test. As soon as Cary and I arrived at school, we split up. Fortunately, he didn't hear the girls heckle me when I went to my locker. I'm sure he would have become very angry.
"We missed you Saturday night," Janet said. "Too busy darning socks or something?"
"Or did you have to make cranberry muffins?" Lorraine asked.
"I tried to come," I told her. Betty closed in beside her and Janet to listen to my explanation. "But my uncle wouldn't let me go."
"We told you he wouldn't. We told you to lie," Betty said. "But you're just like Laura, aren't you? You're too goody-goody to have any real fun. It must run in the family or something--Grandpa, Laura and now you. I bet the mute is the same."
"She's not a mute," I snapped, my face filling with blood so fast I thought I would blow the top of my head off. "She's deaf, but she can talk."
"I've heard her talk. Who could understand that?" Betty said. The others agreed.
"If you take the time, you can understand her. She's a bright, sweet little girl."
"Right. Anyway, we all had a good time. A certain boy was heartbroken that you weren't there," Lorraine said, a twisted smile on her lips.
As if on cue, Adam sauntered down the corridor and paused when he reached us. All three of the witches from Macbeth fluttered their eyelashes and beamed their most seductive smiles, but his eyes were on me.
"Good morning, girls. Exchanging feminine secrets or can I listen in?" he asked with that beguiling smile. Even early in the morning, he looked perfect enough to have just walked out of an aftershave advertisement in a men's magazine.
"We were just telling Melody about what a great beach party she missed," Janet said.
"That's right. It was a great party," he agreed, his eyes still fixed on me.
"Debbie McKay certainly had a good time," Betty said. "Didn't she, Adam?"
"You'll have to ask her," he replied with a nonchalance that made the three giggle.
"I'm sure we'll find out," Lorraine said. "Debbie's the kind who kisses and tells. See you later, Melody," she sang.
"Yeah, see you later," Betty echoed. The three walked off, leaving me with Adam.
"Now you know why I want you to keep the things between us secret," he said looking after them. "The gossipmongers around here work overtime. I'll walk you to homeroom," he offered when I closed my locker. "Everything else all right? You didn't get into trouble after our ride yesterday, did you?"
"No," I said.
"Good."