In Too Deep (5 page)

Well, tonight that would all change. He was sure to kiss me, and I was ready! Goodness knows I've imagined it often enough. And, don't laugh, but I've practised a few times on my pillow and the mirror in my room. I guess that sounds pretty dumb. Betts and I got talking about that one time and she admitted she'd done the same thing, so maybe it's something other kids do too. I don't know.

Of course, Betts has been kissed so she doesn't have to pretend anymore. She got her first kiss from a guy named Jack, but she didn't even like him all that much. Betts told me it wasn't the way she'd expected it to be,
which didn't surprise me at all. If you kiss someone that you don't really like, it's bound to be disappointing. I'd been waiting for the right person, and now that I'd found him, I was pretty sure it was going to be even better than I'd imagined.

I'd seen enough movies to know that you close your eyes when you're kissing, but suddenly a question popped into my head. Who makes the smacking sound at the end of a kiss? What if that was my job, and I didn't do it, and my first kiss ever turned into a disaster because it didn't have the right sound at the end? Or what if he was supposed to do it, and I did it too? It would be like a kiss with an echo. That would be even worse! I thought I'd better find out, so I called Betts to get some advice.

She wasn't home.

There's no one else from school whom I'd trust enough to ask a question like that. That's the kind of thing you only want to discuss with a really close friend, someone you know isn't going to laugh at you and tell everyone in the world.

Well, Mom was in the kitchen, and after tossing the idea back and forth and holding a huge argument with myself over whether or not I should ask her, I decided to go ahead. After all, the only things I had to worry about from her were raised eyebrows and a bit of teasing, which would be better than taking a chance that I'd mess up when the big moment came.

I wandered into the kitchen and plunked down on a chair, trying to look nonchalant.

Mom was glazing a ham, and there were potatoes on the table waiting to be peeled. I picked up the paring knife and started on them while I tried to figure out the best way to bring it up.

“Something on your mind, Shelby?”

I nearly dropped the knife. How Mom knows these things is beyond me, but it happens all the time. It's like she can read my mind, though of course that's impossible. Still, it's kind of scary the way she can take one glance at me and know that something's up.

“I was just curious about, uh,” I hesitated, trying to find the right way to launch into the whole thing. She'd stopped what she was doing and was looking right at me.

“About kissing!” I blurted. I stared at the potato I was peeling as if it was the most interesting thing I'd seen all day.

“Kissing. I see. Well, what exactly were you curious about?”

“I was just wondering,” I think I was trying too hard to sound casual, which was like wearing a flashing sign that would alert Mom that it was something important, “um, who makes the, you know, smacking sound?”

I waited for her to laugh, but she didn't. Instead, she came over and sat at the table with me and said,
very solemnly, “Well, now, I've never thought about that, exactly, but it seems to me that it just happens on its own.”

“Are you
sure
?” I was still worried.

“Yes, I think so. I think that's the way it is.”

I was wondering why she didn't actually
know
when her face lit up, with that expression that tells you someone has just had an idea.

“Why, I'll get your father.”

“You'll get her father for what? What has the child done this time?” Dad happened into the room just then and looked at me crossly. He's always going on that way, but it's only teasing.

“Oh, good, there you are, Randall. Come here and kiss me.”

He looked startled but recovered right away and walked right over to Mom with a grin spreading across his face.

“Well, I don't mind if I do,” he said, putting his arms around her.

“Gross!”

“Gross you say? I'll have you know that your mother is a darned fine kisser.”

“You guys are disgusting!” But there was no point in protesting because they were kissing by then, right there in front of me. It seemed to last a lot longer than necessary too, if you want my opinion.

“Yes, I was right. It just happens on its own,” Mom said brightly when it was finally over.

“Thanks a lot. I hope you know you've ruined my appetite for dinner.”

“I'm sure you'll get over it, dear,” Mom smiled, apparently unconcerned as to whether or not I'd ever be able to eat again.

“Whatever this experiment is about, I think it would be wise to do another test,” Dad suggested.

I flounced out of the room while their laughter started up behind me. Honestly! You'd think they'd know better than that at their ages! After all, they're both over forty!

Thank goodness for the sanctuary of my room. I hurried there and shut the door tight behind me to block out the sounds of their nonsense. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't decided what to wear for the date tonight. I started going through my closet, taking out different things and trying them on as if I'd never worn them before and had no idea how they looked. I settled on my favourite jeans and a powder blue sweater.

By the time I'd laid out my outfit and put everything else back where it went, Mom was calling me for dinner. I joined them at the table, but my stomach was so nervous I could hardly eat. I was hoping they'd notice and think they were to blame, but if either one of them felt guilty it wasn't mentioned.

It was just after six o'clock when we'd finished doing the dishes and had the kitchen cleaned up. I went back to my room and was right in the middle of changing when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I knew it was Mom before she spoke, seeing as how Dad had gone off to help a friend of his who was having some car trouble.

“Shelby?” her voice sounded urgent.

“Yeah, Mom? I'm just getting changed.”

“I'm afraid something has come up.”

I pulled my sweater over my head and opened the door to see her standing there looking serious.

“I know you have plans this evening, but there's a bit of an emergency and you're going to have to help out.”

I stared in disbelief as she continued.

“Julia has gone into labour and I have to take her to the hospital.”

Julia and Paul Pernell and their two small children are neighbours of ours. I knew she was having another baby soon, but didn't understand why the onset of her labour should affect me. Mom cleared her throat.

“The baby wasn't due for another week and Paul is away. She's asked me if I'd sit with her until he gets back into town. I told her I'd stay with her, but that leaves her other kids.”

And then she dropped the bomb.

“I'm afraid you're going to have to babysit them until I get back home.”

I opened my mouth to tell Mom that there was
no way
I was giving up my date with Greg to babysit, but closed it again without making a sound. I knew very well there wasn't going to be any way out of it, and arguing would have been pointless.

If only it hadn't been the Pernell children, I might have been able to get a friend to take the job on short notice, but they're horribly shy of strangers. I've watched them before and I knew they'd set up a huge ruckus if they didn't know the person taking care of them. And their mother couldn't very well go off to the hospital with any peace of mind if they weren't with someone they knew.

“I have to call Greg and cancel our date,” I said miserably. “Then I'll go right over.”

“No, I'm bringing the children here.” Mom's voice
was full of sympathy. “Maybe Greg would like to come over anyway, and babysit with you.”

I was sure he'd love that all right! I'd just tell him to forget the great plans he'd made because we were going to do something even better.

I called his place, but his father told me he'd already left. That made me feel even worse because he'd have to turn around and go back home after walking all the way over.

The next half hour passed in a whirl as Mom rushed about, fetching the kids and hurrying off to take Mrs. Pernell to the hospital. They were both pretty agitated when they arrived.

“I want my mommy!” Cassie wailed. She's only four, but she's got lungs on her like you wouldn't believe.

Two-year-old Ryan whimpered beside her, holding onto her jacket with one hand and rubbing his nose with the other.

“Hey, we're going to have lots of fun,” I promised, trying to distract them. I figured all the sudden commotion had probably upset them.

I dug out some colouring books and crayons and set them up at the table. They didn't budge. There were tears starting down Cassie's face, and Ryan's blubbering was sure to make them a matched set any second.

“Hey, want some cookies?”

“I want
Mommy
. I want to go home.”

“I have to go,” Ryan chimed in.

“You can't go right now,” I was getting exasperated. “Mommy will be back soon and then you can go home.” That wasn't exactly true, but I'd have said almost anything at that point.

Ryan joined his sister by bursting into full-fledged howling then. A few seconds later I realized that when he'd said he had to go, he hadn't meant home. A wet patch darkened the crotch of his pants, spreading down both legs. He sobbed louder.

“Ryan wet his pants,” Cassie paused just long enough to point this out and then resumed crying.

“Hello there.”

I spun around to see Greg standing in the open doorway.

“I knocked, but no one came. Then I heard the commotion and I thought I'd better open the door or you'd never know I was here. I hope that was okay.”

“Oh, Greg! I'm so sorry. I tried to call but you'd already left. I can't go out tonight.” I quickly explained what had happened, though it wasn't easy being heard over the din. It's amazing how much noise two small children can make!

“The little fellow wet himself,” Greg whispered when I'd finished.

“Yes, I know. It happened just before you came in.” I turned back to Cassie and Ryan. “Please stop crying,” I begged ineffectively.

“Can I help?”

“Thanks, but they don't like strangers.”

“Forgive me for pointing this out, but they don't seem all that fond of you either.” He took a few steps toward them and squatted down.

The phone rang and I picked it up, covering my other ear so I could hear the caller. It was Betts.

“Hey, Shelb! Mom said you phoned earlier.”

“Yeah.” That had been the call to ask her the kiss question, but I wasn't about to tell her that with Greg right there. “I was just calling to chat.”

“
What
is that racket at your place?”

I gave her the condensed version.

“Gee, stuck with bawling ankle-biters on a Saturday night. That sucks. Anyway, I thought you had a date with Greg.”

“Yeah, well, so much for that. Someone should have mentioned it to Mrs. Pernell. Maybe she could have held off a bit.”

“I wish I could help, but I'm going to the show with Derek.”

I sort of doubted that Betts was wishing with all her heart that she could take my place, but I thanked her just the same and then said goodbye. When I turned
back to the kids I was astonished to see Greg helping Cassie out of her jacket. She was still sniffling but the full-blown crying had stopped. Ryan's sobs seemed to be diminishing too. Greg glanced up at me.

“I'm just trying to figure out if, uh,” he paused.

“Cassie,” I prompted.

“Yes, if Cassie here is an angel or a princess. And I see we have our answer. Since there are no wings, she must be a princess.”

“Yeah, she's a princess all right.” I tried to hide the sarcasm.

“Princesses need princess crowns for their heads,” he told her. “We'd better get your maidservant on that right away. Shelby?”

“A crown it is,” I smiled. “What colour crown would you like?”

“Pink,” she hiccupped.

“Don't forget the jewels,” Greg said solemnly. “And now, young prince …”

“Ryan.”

“Indeed. Young Prince Ryan and I are going to see if there are any dragons in your bathtub. Would there be a change of royal clothes around here anywhere?”

Ryan's eyes got bigger at the mention of dragons. I passed Greg the bag Mom had brought along with their pyjamas in it and they went off to search for mythical creatures in the bathroom.

Cassie and I had almost finished creating her crown out of construction paper when the two males returned. Ryan was riding on Greg's shoulders, but he clamoured to get down.

“Me too, Sir Greg,” he commanded.

“A crown for Prince Ryan, fair damsel!” Greg swung the tyke off his shoulders and onto a chair.

“How did it work out that you got to be Sir Greg and I got to be a maidservant?”

“Silence! Sir Greg is special assistant to the prince.”

We all worked together, cutting and pasting until two crowns suitable for our wee royalty were finished. Greg had the kids laughing most of the time with his antics.

Watching him, I felt something swell up in my heart. It nearly made me cry, but not in a bad way.

Everything was royal, though Ryan pronounced it “oil.” There were royal cookies and royal milk and royal facecloths to wash the royal faces after they'd eaten.

“They caught on pretty fast,” I hissed to Greg as I carried Cassie on my shoulders. It seemed that they'd both decided their royal feet were too tired to walk. “If you ask me, you've turned them into royal pains with all these royal demands.”