Chapter 9

When Lissa turned her key in the front door at home, she glanced through the feeble light at the clock on the mantel. Four in the morning! Her mother always left the night light on for her. She heard a faint stirring in the kitchen. Dad again! He couldn't sleep, fretting about her. He was probably back there, downing a glass of milk to make him drowsy. Why didn't he just swallow a tranquilizer and stop worrying about her? That's what most fathers did.

She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. "Maybe I'd better go talk to him," she muttered, staring at the floor. She waited a moment. No! She didn't want to get into an argument, not now. She felt sated and too contented to get into a quarrel. She couldn't make him understand, anyway.

She tiptoed up the stairs to her bedroom.

Next morning was Saturday, and Lissa knew her father didn't work today. She stayed late in bed and avoided him at lunch. At noon her bedroom door was open when she heard him coming up the stairs. She stretched out on the bed in her pajamas and pretended to be napping. But she kept one eyelid cracked. Her father looked sad. He sighed and shook his head, then tiptoed downstairs. In a few moments Lissa overheard her mother and him talking.

"Four o'clock, you say, Wade?" He sighed deeply. "Yes, I was in the kitchen. Couldn't get to sleep." "Not good for her voice."

"Not good for her any way you look at it," he said, sourly.

"What can we do?"

"I might shoot Vic," he said heatedly.

"Wade!"

"Well, I feel like it sometimes," he growled.

"Lissa'd hate you for even thinking of it."

Wade usually kissed his wife good-bye each time they parted, but today Lissa was certain he didn't. Thinking about Vic and her hadn't put her parents in a kissing mood.

She heard her father's compact chug away and she got up. She noted that a lot of the cans and bottles were almost empty. She'd have to go to Sylvandale Drug to get a fresh supply. Right after downing her low calorie liquid brunch, she walked to the store and told Hal Lemmon what she wanted. His clerks were busy.

"Okay, Miss Excell. Coming right up." He smiled crookedly.

He took her list and started rummaging through the shelves. She got a Coke and sat down in a rear booth.

The side door opened and she heard a familiar voice call to Mr. Lemmon, "Hey, Hal! You!" It was Vic. "Three choc malts, up here in the first booth."

Lissa saw the druggist glance around cautiously, then give Vic the "O" sign with his thumb and middle finger.

Lissa knew Vic couldn't see her for the old-style, high-backed booths. I'll surprise him, she thought. He probably thinks I'm still home in bed, catching up on my sleep.

Lemmon brought her stuff. "There you are." His voice was low. "Put it on the bill?"

"Yes, please."

"Vic Miles and his pals just came in." He glanced at her slyly. "He's in the front booth if you'd like-"

"I know. I want to surprise him."

Lemmon shrugged and walked away. He wouldn't let the soda jerk fill Vic's order for the three malts. The kid started to get the glasses, but the druggist stopped him.

Lissa ordered a second Coke and sat there. She felt curious to see what the malts looked like. In a few moments she got up and quietly moved closer to Vic without his seeing her.

The druggist passed her with a tray. What he had on it did not resemble a malt. It appeared more like limeade. Lissa caught a sharp whiff from the glasses as he passed her. Lemmon's squinting blue eyes widened when he saw that she had moved.

"Charge it, Vic?"

"You know it, man." Vic cocked an index finger at him.

The druggist walked back toward the prescription counter, staring at Lissa as he passed. He kept his mouth shut.

She heard Gary say, "How about it, Vic?"

"About what?"

"That cold pizza you've been nibbling," Gary said. "When you going to dump it? I'm waiting, man!"

Vic laughed. "Maybe it's warmed up a bit."

"Behind some church, I'll bet."

"Best place in the county," Vic said.

Lissa bit her lip. She knew it was impolite to eavesdrop, but her curiosity was aroused. She could hear the boys' glasses clinking and snapping on the table.

Soon, Vic called out, "Hal? Hey! How about a refill? And make it snappy."

Vic stood up at the same time Lissa did, and their eyes met. His eyebrows climbed and his face reddened. For a moment he said nothing, then he stammered, "Oh, it—it's you, babe! Can I get you something?"

Get her something, indeed! Her anger flared. She felt her cheeks burning, then she began to tremble with resentment. She glared at Vic for a moment, then picked up her stuff and started for the front entrance.

"Hey, Lissa, wait!"

She heard him hurrying after her. He caught up to her just outside the building.

"Lissa, wait a minute!" He grasped her arm.

"You're hurting me, Vic!" She jerked free. "I heard you, you and your pals. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but—"

He laughed gaily. "Oh, that!"

"Yes, that! What do you take me for?"

"You don't think I was-"

"Who else?" Her voice was icy.

"Naw!" He waved his hand and smiled. "You got it all wrong. We were talking about a whistle chick I used to go with before I ever knew you."

She hesitated. "Then nothing's changed between us?"

"Of course not. I'm even figuring on setting the date." "Date?"

"Stupid!" he exclaimed.

"But we can't marry till we're out of school."

"I don't see why not," he said.

"You've got to finish your education."

Vic shrugged. "What's the difference? Old man Miles will look out for his favorite son."

Suddenly, Lissa felt a little fed-up with the favorite son. Still, she was in love with him and his father was well-to-do, and . . . What if he was? That wouldn't change Vic. Was Vic really intending to marry her? Her nerves were prickling and her stomach tensing into a hard knot. Her father had said that Vic was a terrible liar. Was Vic lying now? "Come on, Lissa," he urged. "I got a swell idea." "Like what?"

"Willow Beach." He licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. "Wear your bikini."

Lissa glanced at the sun. It would be setting in a few minutes. "Too late, isn't it?"

"You're kidding. The water is nice and warm, even after dark, and—"

"Dad doesn't want me to be out late every night."

"Nuts to him. You'll probably beat him home at that."

He was urging her toward his car. "So what with your dad? What does the future Mrs. Victor Miles care about what he likes or doesn't like?"

"Vic, I still think-"

"Come on, stupid." He waved her down. "Show 'em you're a real swinger and do what you please!"