The Old House (6 page)

Buddy's indignation exploded. “Dad never would have done anything like that!”

“You know it, I know it. But all the trucking company knows is that a couple of newly hired drivers disappeared with one of their trucks and a load of really expensive lumber.”

“But that's crazy! How could they? You can't hide something as big as an eighteen-wheeler!”

“Not without really working at it. Edmonds has reported them to the police as missing. The California Highway Patrol is looking for them. But I'm afraid what they all think is that Dad and Rich deliberately disappeared after peddling their load for cash. They said there are lots of desolate places in northern California where they could have hidden a truck, or run it off a cliff where it wouldn't have been found right away.”

There were unpleasant prickles along Buddy's spine. “No way,” she said angrily, but there was more fear running through her than anger. “They don't know Dad!”

“No,
but we do. I'm not giving up, Buddy. I'm going down to Eureka to see if I can pick up their trail. There are a lot of truckers running between there and San Francisco and Los Angeles, the whole length of California. Everybody runs with their CBs on; they must have talked to someone. It was a bright green truck with Edmonds' logo on the doors. Somebody must have seen it. They had to stop to eat and refuel. It may take me a few days, because I'll have to stop everywhere they might have stopped, talk to everybody who could have seen them or talked with them. So don't worry if you don't hear from me for a few days. I don't know how long it'll take. California's eight hundred miles long.”

Buddy's throat was aching so, it was hard to speak. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. I keep the doors locked when I sleep in a rest stop or whatever. It'll be nice to sleep in a bed again, but it's not bad in the car. I don't want to waste cash on motels or anything like that. Aunt Cassie taking care of you all right?”

“I only got here this morning,” Buddy reminded him. “She's a good cook, and they're nice.” She didn't
mention what Max had said about her relatives being a dysfunctional family. “Aunt Addie signed me up to go to school if you don't get back before Monday.”

“Not much chance of that, Buddy. Just go, do the best you can. I'll call you when I find Dad, even if I can't get up there to get you right away.”

“It won't be very long, will it?” There was a tremor in her voice.

“I don't know. I hope not. Take care, Buddy. Don't give up hope. I'll find him and Rich, or maybe the police will find them first. But they're figuring stuff like hijacking a load, and I'm not, so we're looking in different places, I guess. Even if I don't find Dad right away, I'll come get you. Okay?”

She was so choked, she could barely echo his okay. If he didn't find Dad, what would happen to them both? Bart wasn't even out of high school yet, and he had no skills to enable him to support them both.

She hung up, fighting tears.

She didn't want to walk back into the kitchen and see those questioning faces, but
there was no choice. They were still drinking their tea, except for Max, who was swigging a can of pop.

“Any news of Dan?” Cassie asked.

She shook her head. “Bart's going to Eureka, the last place he took a load.”

Max studied her face, then offered, “You want a Coke?”

Her throat hurt, and she wasn't sure she could swallow, but maybe trying would be better than what she was feeling right now. Only when she tried to speak, her voice didn't work. Max went to the refrigerator, got another can, and popped the top for her.

It stung when she sipped at it, but that was a distraction from the pain that enveloped her. She didn't think she could bear it if Bart didn't find Dad so that everything would be all right.

“Well,” Addie said, standing up, and carrying her cup to the dishwasher, “let's go see what we can find for you to wear to church, girl.”

She'd never in her life felt less like going to church, but she didn't know any way to get out of it. She followed Addie through the house
and up the stairs. They went past the open door to Addie's room, and two closed doors on the other side of the hall, into the room Buddy might have had if it hadn't been full of junk.

There were lots of cardboard cartons, all of them neatly labeled, stacked nearly to the ceiling in half of the room. There was also, surprisingly, a desk and a computer and printer in the other half.

And there was Addie's Oxford English Dictionary, along with a few other books beside the monitor.

Addie wasn't looking at the materials for her writing, however. She was moving cartons, searching for a particular one. “Here, these are some of EllaBelle's things. No, this batch is stuff she left when she ran away, and never sent for. There should be another one of older stuff, when she was younger.”

“She ran away?” Buddy echoed, forgetting to drink her soda. “Mama ran away?”

“Eloped.” Addie sent her a glance, then returned to her search. “Didn't she ever tell you that? Never warned a soul. Just packed a suitcase and left a note. ‘Dan and I are getting
married. Will write.' Had the entire town in shock.”

People
did
elope all the time, didn't they? Why should that have sent the entire town into shock? After all, who did it matter to, except maybe her family, who hadn't been expecting it.

“Ah, this should be the one,” Addie said, carrying a box over to set it on the bed. “Let's see what we've got.”

The dresses she began to unpack caught Buddy's interest even though she wasn't much interested in clothes, especially right now. She could imagine her mother wearing that pale lavender one with the lacy collar, and the blue and white check, and the navy blue with the sailor collar. “These are beautiful,” Buddy murmured, putting down her Coke can on the edge of the desk.

“I made them all for her,” Addie said. “We all pampered her. And even so, she did what she did.”

“‘What she did'?” Buddy asked, but Addie wasn't paying any attention.

“Ah, maybe this one. It looked wonderful on her. I
made it for her fifteenth birthday celebration. A grown-up dress, she wanted. Let's see if taking it in a little will make it fit. Take off your clothes.”

Feeling numb, Buddy obeyed. The dress was apricot-colored, very simple, and only a little bit loose on her. She didn't resist when Addie twirled her around, inspecting her.

“I didn't think it would be out of style. Classic designs never are. If I take it in a smidgen, it should be about right. Let me get a few pins.”

Buddy's mind felt jumbled. Her mother had run away, and shocked the whole town, and done something that was not good. Something that made the family angry with her.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't quite dare. What had her mother done to Addie that had estranged them enough so that Addie didn't write to her younger sister? Even Cassie, seemingly so much easier going, hadn't written very often. Mama had missed the letters, Buddy knew, though she hadn't talked about it except for once when Buddy had overheard her parents talking about it.

“It
hurts when they don't answer me, Dan,” EllaBelle had said. “We used to be so close. I suppose Cassie's just too busy now, running the house and taking care of Grandpa since our mom and dad died.” And Dad had hugged her and they had stopped talking when they had realized Buddy was listening.

“Turn around,” Addie said now, and obediently Buddy stood and held her arms out of the way of the sticking pins. “Your mother looked like an angel in this. It was her first boy-girl party, and she was beautiful. Okay, take it off—be careful of the pins—and I'll take a couple of the seams in.”

Buddy felt confused and uncertain. One minute Addie talked about how beautiful EllaBelle had been, and the next she made remarks suggesting that her younger sister had done something that had alienated them, but with no explanation that Buddy could understand.

The sewing machine in the corner was quite a contrast to the computer-printer setup. It was an old treadle machine, which Addie used expertly; then she pressed the new seams into place before Buddy tried the dress on again.
Another of the oddly assorted items in this back bedroom was a full-length mirror, and Buddy was astonished at her own appearance.

“Now all we need is to do something with your hair,” Addie said critically.

Buddy stared at the offending dark mass. “It won't curl,” she said. “We've tried.”

“A new cut, then,” Addie decided. “It's too long to style if it won't curl. Mine never would, either. That's why I keep it short. Cassie's a whiz with the scissors.”

Alarmed, Buddy touched the ends that hung down over the apricot dress. “I'm used to it this way.”

Addie had a way of not noticing statements that didn't jibe with her own perception of things. “Shoes. Good grief, you can't wear athletic shoes with that dress.”

Buddy looked down at them. “They're the only ones I have with me.”

“What size do you wear? Maybe a pair of mine would work. Sandals. Yes, let me check on sandals.”

They found a pair in Addie's closet, close enough to a fit so Buddy thought she could
wear them long enough to attend church. Back at the mirror, she had to admit they looked much nicer than her own shoes.

“Okay. Let's go consult Cassie about your hair,” Addie said, as if Cassie's opinion, and her own, were the only ones that mattered.

Cassie didn't ask Buddy for her opinion, either. Though Buddy made a little squawking protest, they sat her down on a kitchen chair and whipped put an enveloping cape to keep the hair off her new dress, and Cassie got out the scissors.

“I've been cutting hair since I was not much older than you are,” Cassie assured her as she began to snip.

Long strands of dark brown hair fell onto the cape, and Buddy watched in dismay as more and more of it fell around her. It was all she could do not to cry. She'd never been especially vain about her hair—after all, it was straight and ordinary—but it was
her
hair. Would it be this way with everything if she had to stay here for long? With someone else making all the decisions that should be her own? It made her feel as if the person she
really was was insignificant, that only with improvements could she be found acceptable.

“There!” Cassie said finally. “What do you think, Addie?”

Addie grunted. “Just like one of those models we saw on TV. Getting rid of the hair makes your eyes look bigger. She's the spitting image of EllaBelle, isn't she?”

Cassie stood back to inspect her own work. “Go take a look, Buddy. There's another tall mirror in the front hallway. Turn on the light so you can really see.”

Dreading the stranger who was going to appear before her, Buddy trudged through the dining room to the hall and flicked the light switch.

And stranger she was. But the dark hair, always so unruly and without form, now lay about her head in a perfect, close-fitting cap, with the slightest of waves at her temples and just below her ears. Addie had followed her and made a sound of satisfaction. “It was too heavy before. Pulled out what little wave you had. This is perfect.”

The girl in the mirror certainly didn't look
like Buddy Adams. Buddy's resistance melted away. She looked almost pretty.

They heard a door open in the rear of the house, and a man's voice called out, “Where is everybody? How long till supper?”

“Oh, Gus is home,” Addie said flatly. “Take the dress off before you mess it up. You'll need nylons, too. Mine would be too long for you and Cassie's too wide. I'll pick up a pair tomorrow on my way to work.”

“Work?” Buddy echoed, distracted from her own suddenly intriguing image.

“Work. I run the library, such as it is. Open every Thursday and Saturday. You'll take Haysville by storm,” she predicted, then added drily, “just like your mother did. She always was the family beauty.”

After she'd turned away, Buddy lingered for a moment, turning this way and that, as a growing delight filled her. She looked older than eleven, and quite smart with the new dress and the awesome hairstyle.

Even after she'd changed back into jeans and a sweatshirt, the haircut remained. Simple, yet elegant. That had been one of Mama's phrases. She'd
liked things that were simple, yet elegant. Until now, Buddy had never imagined that those words could pertain to herself.

She didn't know what Dad and Bart would think, but she decided that
she
was pleased, after all.

Uncle Gus was at the refrigerator with the door open, selecting a bottle of beer. He turned and stared at her. “Well, who's this?”

“You remember, I told you Buddy was coming for a few days,” Cassie said. She was stirring something on the stove while Addie set the table. “Buddy, this is Uncle Gus.”

He was a stocky, middle-aged man, going bald on top but overdue for a haircut. He needed suspenders to hold his pants up over a large belly, red ones over a black and yellow plaid shirt. “Buddy? Funny name for a girl,” he observed, hooking a chair with a booted foot and pulling it out to sink down at the table with his beer.

“It's a nickname,” Buddy said stiffly. “My real name is Amy Kate.”

“Now who'd give a pretty little girl a name like Buddy?” he asked, flipping the cap of his
bottle toward the nearest wastebasket, and missing. He took a long drink and stared at her some more.

“My dad started calling me that when I was little,” Buddy said. “I used to go everywhere with him, even on the truck when he was driving, and he called me his little Buddy.”

Gus apparently lost interest in her at that point and turned his attention to his son. Max was perched on a stool near the counter, putting slices of cucumber and tomato on beds of lettuce in a series of salad plates set out in front of him.