In Between (20 page)

I stayed at the table long enough to finish my lunch, and it actually helped that Frances ended up sitting down by me and joining in the conversation. The skaters moved on to different topics which I could contribute to, thanks to Frances and her brilliant conversation skills.

When the bell rang signaling lunch had ended, Frances followed me out the door.

“Were the bathroom stalls all taken today?”

“I’m not a total chicken, Frances.” No, I didn’t bother to tell her I had begun my lunch on a toilet seat again. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. And there’s a very short list of things Frances Vega doesn’t know.

“You could have sat with me and my friends. I looked for you, but couldn’t find you.”

“Yeah, well, thanks. I made it fine. Look, I’ve got to go. I have P.E. next.” Just couldn’t wait to get to P.E., you know?

Now, Mrs. Smartly, I will tell you about my day in physical education.

Oh, wait, here’s Millie. I’m writing this letter at the Valiant, waiting on her. This letter writing is for the birds. If we were emailing right now, I’d tell you something funny. And then you would email back and say something like my email had you ROTFL. And I would email back and say LOL! Wouldn’t that be GR8?

Okay, it’s time for me to get to work. But you owe me a letter—a good one. I don’t want to hear about how you cleaned out the dryer lint screen again, okay? CUL8R!

LUV,

KT

A
s per instructions,
I took the school bus to the theatre after school.

The
public
school bus.

It’s something everyone should experience at least once. Today on my ride, a first-grader shared my seat. She proudly showed me her artwork, a blob of red paint she said was a pony, and then talked herself into a sleepy coma. Her head bobbed until it landed on my shoulder and her paste-crusted hands rested on my jeans. The kid in seat number twenty picked his nose when he thought no one was looking. Spit wads sailed overhead. The gnome sitting behind me kicked my seat to the beat of the bus driver’s George Strait music the entire ride. If that brat does it again tomorrow, I’m going to have to show him who’s boss—and it ain’t him. Across the aisle, a group of middle schoolers gathered, trying to burp out “All My Ex’s Live in Texas.”

Standing in the foyer of the Valiant, I shudder at the memory.

From here I can see Millie sitting in her car in the parking lot. She appears to be in a serious conversation on her cell phone, and she doesn’t look happy. After a few more minutes she ends the call, runs a hand through her hair, brushes on some lip gloss, and makes her way to the theatre. She looks stressed, but I decide not to mention it as she breezes into the foyer where I’m waiting.

“Hey, Millie.” I proceed with care. Not only is Millie worked up over something, but I’m anxious too. My first day on the job at the Valiant. Who knows what awaits me inside. Like a scaredy-cat, I’ve been standing in the entryway, putting off going into the theatre for as long as possible. It’s not easy to return to the scene of the crime. And now I have to look at it with Millie, see it through her eyes.

“Hey, kiddo, how was your day?” Millie puts a smile on her face, and gives me a quick hug. She knows the hugging thing still doesn’t have the total Katie Parker seal of approval. But if anybody can get away with it, it’s my foster mom.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” Ugh. I eye the giant double doors leading into the theatre lobby. Don’t feel so good.

“No, seriously, how did it go?” Millie stops and gives me her full attention.

I sigh and make a figure eight on the floor with the toe of a new, but vintage-looking Nike. “Well, I went to English, faced off with Angel.”

Millie’s eyebrows rise.

“But no blood was shed. No WMDs were fired.” I wave it off. “It was a fairly peaceful meeting.”

“Okay.” Millie nods. “Go on.”

It’s kind of odd to have an adult listen to you. I mean really listen.

“So then I went to history.”

“And Mr. Patton fell asleep,” Millie finishes.

“Right. Oh, and on the second time he nodded off, this guy Steven went up to him and tapped him on the shoulder to wake him up. That didn’t work, so Steven dropped a history book on the floor right next to him.”

“And he slept right through it?” Apparently everyone in town is familiar with Mr. Patton’s teaching style.

“No, he shot out of his chair, yelling, ‘Give me liberty or give me death!’”

Millie’s face softens, and her warm laughter fills the foyer.

And my face falls as she swings the giant doors open, leading the way into the lobby.

I stand horrified at the sight. Graffiti everywhere. Antique counters smashed. An old popcorn machine, probably an original, in pieces. Lights broken. Carpet ripped. Scarlet fabric, which had been artfully draped here and there, now torn and strewn about the floor.

And this is just the lobby.

They accomplished so much destruction in so little time. I guess that night I was so lost in my own little world, so in awe of the theatre and exploring the orchestra pit that I didn’t hear most of their noise.

Either that or I need to borrow Mr. Patton’s hearing aides.

I reach my hand out to Millie. “I—I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head in disbelief. In disgust. There is nothing I can say to make this any better. “I promise I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.”

My stomach rolls. I’m
not
like Angel and Vincent. I may have a questionable past and, undeniably, a questionable future, but I could never do something like this.

Looking at Millie’s face, though she’s trying to wear a smile, I can tell she’s hurt.

“Millie, I—”

“I know.” Again, the plastic smile. “I know, Katie. Look, we have a lot to do today, so let’s get started, okay?”

She moves away from me and opens the theatre’s black lacquered doors.

I gulp.

“Sam!” Millie hollers into the theatre. “Sam, we’re here!”

Sam?

“Sam’s a caretaker of sorts here. And now that—well, all of this happened, he’s overseeing the repairs.” Millie props the door with her foot and scans the theatre for the missing Sam. I remain far enough behind the door that I don’t have to see inside—yet.

“Ah, here he is. Come here! I want you to meet Katie.”

I’ll just bet this Sam is on the edge of his seat, filled with excitement to meet me. Me, the girl who was with the kids who did all of this. If this guy yells at me or uses some choice expletives, I will probably start crying on the spot.

“Come on.” Millie pulls me through the doorway. I hesitate, but when Millie shoots me a warning look, I step forward into the theatre.

The inside looks even worse than the lobby. Some of the old seats, which look like they had just been redone, are ripped, cushioning hanging out, material shredded. Images and words I can’t even bear to look at cover various places on the Art Deco tile. Curtains hang in tatters, and broken windows are boarded up. Sawhorses are set up in random spots, as people I don’t recognize deal with the repairs needed on all the wood in the theatre.

“Sam got a crew of volunteers from the church to help us out.” Millie points to a group of men measuring and conferring over something on the balcony.

A man who looks to be in his seventies walks our way up the center aisle. He’s dressed in blue-and-white striped overalls, and his heavy brown work boots are flecked with mint-green paint.

Wiping his hands on his bibs, he smiles at Millie, then me. His face crinkles in multiple places, and his white, bushy eyebrows lift with his grin. “Hello, there, ladies. I’ve just brewed a hot pot of coffee. Can I get you some?”

Millie politely declines. “None for me thanks.”

I do not. “One cup, two sugars, and three shakes of cream, thanks.” A fresh cup of Joe. Perfect for the nerves or whatever ails you.

Millie rolls her eyes. “Katie will have a water, but I’ll get it. I’m going back to the theatre office to get her a snack. Sam, this is Katie. You’ve probably met her at church.”

Sam sticks a gold-splattered hand out, and I shake it. So far this man hasn’t shown a single sign of wanting to stone me for my misdeeds and poor choice of friends, so what’s a little paint on my hand?

“Nice to meet you, Katie. I don’t believe I was there the day you were introduced in church. I was in Kansas visiting my sister.”

Millie checks her watch and takes a few steps away from us. “Sam, I’ll leave you with Katie. Start showing her around and maybe get her started on the project we talked about. Katie, I’ll be back with some snacks.”

“No carrot sticks!”

Sam chuckles. “Yesterday she fed me celery. I’m seventy-five years old, most of my own teeth are long gone, and she forces celery sticks on me.”

“Millie’s pretty serious about her veggies.” I like this man already.

“Serious? Girl, she’s on a one-woman mission to promote the food pyramid.”

Girl
. Just like Maxine called me—

Sam. Maxine. Oh, hold on.

Looks like you have company today. And it’s not Mr. Sam either.
That’s what Burger Barn boy said to Maxine last Sunday. Well, my, my.

“Are you friends with Maxine Simmons—Millie’s mom?”

Sam’s eyes bulge at my question. Bull’s-eye!

Looking to his left, his right, and behind him, Sam leans in close. “What do you know?”

I know I just received confirmation of a secret love affair between Sam and Mad Maxine! Oh, my day just got
so
much better.

“Are you her boyfr—”

A hand clamped over my mouth halts my sentence. Sam puts his nose to mine. “Don’t even say that word out loud. Whatever you want, I’ll give you, but you cannot tell Millie anything.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “Are you Maxine’s boyfriend?”

Sam nearly does a 360, looking behind him for anyone near enough to hear. “I said not to say that out loud!”

“Okay, how about are you Maxine’s special friend?” I wiggle my eyebrows for effect.

Sam takes his old cap off, wipes his brow, and begins to wring the hat in his hands. “Look, I don’t know what you heard, girl, but Maxine Simmons and I are just friends. Friends, that’s all. But if Millie even suspects there’s more to it, my goose is cooked. So you just name your price, whatever it takes to buy your silence.”

I consider this for a moment. “That cup of coffee would taste really good right now.”

The old man snorts. “I meant like a five spot. Not something guaranteed to get me in even more trouble with Millie. You heard her tell you no.” He shoves his cap back on top of his bald head.

Sam scans the room again, then rubs a rag over the black lacquer door, pretending to polish it. “Now, you want to tell me what you know?”

I shrug. “I don’t really know anything. Sunday, when I went to get lunch with Maxine, the guy at the Burger Barn asked where you were, like you and Maxine were regulars, and when I asked Maxine who Sam was, she shushed me.” I narrow my eyes. “Anytime there is shushing involved, you know something is up.”

Sam takes a deep, ragged breath and exhales slowly, and I’m pleased to note he doesn’t have nasty old-man breath but a pleasant wintergreen smell.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting like you’re protecting a national secret here?”

Sam is about to wear the door out with his polishing. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

I lower my voice. “Are you and Maxine . . . terrorists?”

“No!” Alarmed at his own volume, Sam grabs a handkerchief out of his back pocket and again swabs his forehead.

“Here you go”—Millie appears out of nowhere, carrying a tray—“two waters and a plate of homemade oatmeal cookies.”

Sam and I both jump, the two of us looking guilty as thieves. Though I have no idea why
I’m
looking guilty. I have enough trouble of my own without taking on anyone else’s.

Millie sets the tray down. I thank her, but my strange new friend stands there with his mouth hanging open like he’s waiting for a cookie to come in for a landing.

“Sam, I’m going to run a quick errand in town. Can you get Katie started here?” Millie digs in her purse for her car keys, her earlier stress still apparent. A package is under her arm, but the only writing on it I can make out is
Priority Mail
.

“Uh, sure thing, Millie. You take your time.” Sam’s voice is a little high pitched. This man really needs to work on his poker face.

“Okay. Katie, are you going to be all right here?”

I nod.

“You just follow Sam’s orders. Oh, and Sam, if James calls, tell him I’ve stepped out for a bit, and I’ll be right back.” She calls out a good-bye and disappears behind the extremely shiny doors.

“What was that about? She acted all nervous.” I’m talking mostly to myself.

Sam scowls. “Let’s get to work.”

“Wait a minute. You haven’t told me why you and Maxine are all hush-hush.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Maxine and I are friends. We both live at Shady Acres, and occasionally she honors me with her company.” Sam’s face explodes in pink to the top of his ears.