Part 7 (1/2)
”What's wrong?” asked Claudia in a hushed voice.
”Jeff's going back to California. Not just for a visit. For real.”
”Forever,” said Mal, nodding her head, and I realized then that she probably did know the news. Jeff had told the triplets.
”Well, he's going back for six months. It's supposed to be a trial, but I have a feeling it'll turn into forever.”
”Why?” asked Jessi, who didn't know too much about my family yet. ”Who's he going to stay with?” She looked frightened, like she thought we were giving Jeff away or something.
”Oh, my father,” I a.s.sured her. ”And this is his choice. He's the one who wants to go. But, well, I just don't think we'll feel much like a family anymore.”
Jessi nodded sympathetically.
”How did your dad get custody?” Kristy wanted to know.
I told them the whole story, from Ms. Besser's fateful phone call until right now. ”Now” was Jeff's stuff slowly being packed away into trunks. It was my mom crying in her room at night. It was me crying in my room at night. It was all of us, even Jeff, feeling like we were going through the divorce again. And because of that, it was Mom clinging to me, as if to say, ”Don't you go away, too.”
Well, I wouldn't. That was the one thing she'd never have to worry about.
The meeting ended and we went home.
Chapter 11.
It was Friday, my last chance to work with the Pike girls. The next day was Sat.u.r.day - the pageant! But before that, that very night, Mom and I would put Jeff on a plane back to California. We weren't certain when we'd see him again.
I tried not to think about that. I threw myself into the last-minute preparations for the pageant instead.
”Now today,” I told Claire and Margo just after I'd arrived, ”we're going to have a dress rehearsal. Do you know what that is?”
The girls shook their heads.
”Okay. It's when we pretend you're actually in the pageant. We'll go through the whole thing. You'll pretend to meet the judges, be in the beauty parade and the talent show and everything, and you'll even change your clothes so you'll be wearing the right outfits at the right times. That's why it's called a dress rehearsal. Get it?”
”Got it.”
”Great. Now the very first event,” I said, referring to the information the pageant people had sent, ”is the walk across the stage when you meet the judges. It's the first time the audience will see all you contestants. Now Claire, you'll be wearing your blue dress for that, and Margo, you'll be wearing your daisy dress.”
”Please can I wear my bathing suit?” begged Margo.
”Absolutely not.”
”How come?”
”Because no one else will be wearing a bathing suit. The judges want you guys all dressed up.”
”Okay, okay.”
”Now tomorrow,” I said, thinking aloud, ”we'll have to make sure you've got your complete outfits with you. We'll have to remember socks, shoes, slips, barrettes, everything you'll need.” I hoped I could handle it. The pageant was beginning to seem like a huge job. There were times when I was sorry I'd taken it on. At least Mrs. Pike would be able to help me. She was going to help us before the pageant, and then drive us to the high school.
The girls put on their outfits and I led them down to the living room.
”What you'll have to do first thing is walk across the stage in the auditorium. All the judges except the head judge will be sitting in the first row of seats. The head judge will be on the stage. So what you do is walk toward the head judge. Remember to look at the audience and smile while you're walking. Before you get to the judge, say in a nice loud voice, 'My name is Claire Pike and I'm five years old.' Margo, you, of course, will say, 'My name is Margo Pike and I'm seven years old.' You'll curtsy and then shake her hand. Remember to use your right hand. That's the wrist.w.a.tch hand.” (Claire can't tell time, but she always wears a watch on her right wrist.) ”Anyway,” I went on, ”shake her hand and remember to keep smiling. When you're finished, walk the rest of the way across the stage.
”Now let's try it. I'll be the judge, and that's the audience over there.” I pointed to the dining room.
In the middle of our rehearsal I heard the Pikes' phone ring. A few moments later, Mallory called to me, ”Dawn, it's Mary Anne!”
”Hold on, you two,” I told Claire and Margo. ”I'll be right back.”
I ran into the kitchen and took the receiver from Mallory. ”h.e.l.lo?” I said. ”Hi, Mary Anne. What's up?”
”Well, I was just wondering ... I guess, urn . . .”
”What were you wondering?” I asked impatiently.
”Um . . . um . . . How are the girls doing?”
”Fine. Are you with Myriah?”
”Yes.”
I had a funny feeling that Mary Anne wasn't wondering anything except how Myriah's compet.i.tion was doing.
”Listen,” I told her. ”We're really busy. We're right in the middle of a dress rehearsal, so I gotta go.”
”A dress rehearsal? Oh, great idea! Thanks, Dawn. 'Bye!”
Darn, I thought. I'd given something away. The pageant was getting entirely too compet.i.tive. It wasn't fun anymore.
I returned to Claire and Margo. Even though I knew that when you hold a dress rehearsal, you're supposed to go from the beginning to the end of a show without stopping, I decided that we'd have to work on each event a few times (except maybe for the talent part). The girls had forgotten to smile when they walked toward me, and Claire kept losing her balance when she curtsied.
”Okay, let's take it from the top,” I said professionally. ”Claire, you first.”
Claire pranced across the living room toward me.
”Smile!” I hissed.
She put on a huge, silly grin.
”Not that much. A regular smile.”
Claire toned her smile down and said, ”I'm Claire Pike, I'm five years old, and I really want to win. I have seven brothers and sisters, a mommy - ”
”Whoa, whoa! All you say is your name and age,” I reminded her. Why, oh, why had I ever told Mrs. Pike I'd prepare the girls for the pageant?
The rehearsal continued. When the girls were tired of curtsying, I said, ”Let's move on. The next part of the pageant is the talent compet.i.tion.”