“So how do you explain it?”
“Tony is a derivative,” I smiled, “of Anthony!”
“You're a genius!”
I blushed at the compliment, which I suppose modesty should at least have made me insist was an overstatement. But I
was
feeling pretty smart at the moment, and anyway, if Greg wanted to call me a genius, it would have been rude to argue.
“Tony is a form of Anthony,” he pondered. “Of course! I never would have thought of that.”
“And his grandparents might refer to him by his proper name,” I added. “Lots of older people do that.”
“Especially if he was named after a relative.” Greg hugged me impulsively.
We were so engrossed in our conversation that we didn't notice Amber and her father approaching us. They had almost reached the spot we were standing
when I happened to glance up and see them there. Both wore enormous smiles.
“Dad, these are my friends, Shelby and Greg.”
Mr. Chapman shook our hands and we all said we were happy to meet each other. He told us he appreciated how kind we'd been to his daughter, standing by her when things were so rough.
“Amber should have told me the problems she was having,” he sighed. “I knew nothing about it until I got a call from the police. Of course, as soon as I heard, I made arrangements to get here as quickly as I could.”
“How long will you be staying?” Greg asked.
“As long as it takes to get this cleared up.” His eyes were misting over. “And then I'm letting my company know that I either get a permanent assignment in Canada or I'm looking for another job.”
“I'm going to be living with my dad, as soon as he gets settled back in Canada.” Amber's face was glowing with happiness.
“Sometimes a man needs a thing like this to happen,” Mr. Chapman said somberly. “It sure opened my eyes about what's important.”
“It just goes to show,” Greg commented to me after Amber and her dad had left, “that even the worst situations can bring something good.”
I agreed with him on that. Who knows if Mr. Chapman would ever have made the decision to have
his daughter live with him, if the whole robbery thing hadn't occurred? I was really happy and excited that life was changing for the better for Amber. It seemed to make up for everything she'd had to go through first.
The bell was ringing for afternoon classes then, and we didn't have time to talk anymore about arrangements to get to Veander. Greg promised he'd come over after dinner so we could make plans.
He arrived just as I'd finished sweeping the kitchen floor, and we went off to my room to talk in privacy.
“Keep your door open a bit,” Mom admonished as we headed down the hallway. I blushed at that, because it sounded as if she didn't trust us.
“Sorry about that,” I whispered to Greg, wondering if he felt insulted.
“What, about having the door open?” he whispered back. “Don't apologize for that. Anyway, I was kind of worried you might try to take advantage of me.”
“Yeah, you wish.” I swatted his arm, giggling.
“Oh, I know what you girls are like. You get a guy alone and use him for your own twisted purposes, then you tell all your friends how easy he was.”
It was the closest we'd ever come to talking about that sort of thing, and even though he was joking, I wondered what he really thought about it. I expected the subject of sex would come up sometime and didn't
know how I'd handle it. Greg is like my ideal guy and I'm crazy about him, but this was my first real relationship, and I knew I wasn't ready to jump into anything like that.
For all that Mom sometimes drives me crazy with her endless talks, I was glad we'd discussed this. She'd made me think hard about how the choices you make when you're young can affect you all your life.
“Just make sure you don't do anything that you might end up regretting later,” she'd told me. That had surprised me. I would have thought she'd have said something more dramatic or tried to frighten me with talk of disease and the like. The fact that her whole talk had focused on me and my feelings had sunk in more than any scare tactics would have.
I pushed those thoughts aside and made myself think about Veander.
“Do you think you can get this Saturday off work?” I asked.
“I'll ask. I think Mr. Broderick will give it to me, though. He's really reasonable and I've never asked for a day off before. In fact, why don't I call him right now? There's not much sense in making plans until we know for sure.”
Unlike Betts, I have no phone in my room, though I've hinted for one a few times. Well, maybe “hinted” isn't the right word. I guess the truth is that I've
pestered my folks about it, but so far they haven't given in. Greg went to the kitchen to make his call and came back after a few moments.
“No problem.”
“Great! Now, the next question. How do we get there?”
“What about the bus?”
“No good. I checked the schedule the other day. We wouldn't have time to get there, do what we have to do, and come back the same day.”
“Well, I haven't had my license very long, so I can guarantee my dad's not going to give me the car for the day. Especially not for a trip out of town. What about the train?”
“I hadn't even thought of the train. But you know, that should work. It leaves here around nine in the morning. That would give us time to check things and get the bus back in the afternoon.” I took a deep breath. “There's another problem though.”
“What's that?”
“Money. I haven't saved much from my allowances or what I've earned babysitting. And I'm not allowed to touch my bank account because Mom makes the deposits in that and it's for university.”
“Well, that's the least of our worries,” he said without hesitating. “I can take care of the cost of the tickets. But are you sure you can get away for the day? I
take it that you're not planning to tell your parents what you're up to.”
“No way! They'd have a conniption. I'd never be allowed to go.”
“I have to admit that I'm not wild about deceiving your mom and dad, but I understand you feel there's no choice. You
do
realize they're going to have to know about it at some point, don't you?”
“I know, but I figure by then it will be over with and there won't be much they can do about it. Well, except maybe ground me for a couple of years or so.”
“They might also decide you shouldn't be hanging around with me, since I'll be involved in the whole thing.”
I hadn't considered that. Even though I was almost sure they wouldn't actually forbid me from seeing Greg, it would probably change their opinion of him. That was the last thing I wanted to see happen.
Seeing the alarmed expression on my face, Greg said, “It's your call, Shelby. I'll go along with your decision.”
I sighed. There wasn't going to be an easy solution, but Amber was our friend and we had to help her.
“It'll all work out okay.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “Anyway, we'll worry about the repercussions later.”
In the meantime, I was going to have to come up with a story that would get me out of the house for the whole day on Saturday.
It was easier than I'd expected. When I told Mom and Dad that I was spending the day with Greg on Saturday, they accepted it without asking for details. That was a huge relief to me, because even though I'd prepared a story about us going hiking and taking a picnic lunch, I know I'd never have carried it off. I'd have sputtered and stammered and turned red, the way I always do when I try to tell something that's not true.
We met at the train station about half an hour before it was to leave and Greg bought our tickets, dismissing my promise to pay him back when I could.
“You did all the sleuthing,” he said simply. “This is the least I can do. It makes me feel good to think I'm helping Amber in some small way.”
There were few passengers on board that morning, and the car we sat in had only four other occupants. Three
were together, a mother and her two small children, while the other was an elderly man who kept frowning and muttering about the noise the little ones made.
“They're just kids,” I whispered to Greg, “You'd think he could be a bit more tolerant.”
“Maybe he's tired or ill. Or maybe he's lonely and depressed because his wife just died and this is his first time travelling without her.”
“Well, he could move to another car if he wanted to. I say he's just a nasty old man who hates children and loves complaining,” I sighed, feigning exasperation. “Do you have to be so insufferably nice all the time?”
“Sorry, I'll work on that.” He forced the smile from his face and glowered at me. “I know. I'll practise on you.”
“Go away!” I giggled at his stern look, which was exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous. “You couldn't do it if you tried.”
“I could if you weren't so darned cute.” He kissed the tip of my nose, which was thankfully zit-free at the moment.
We were in Veander before we knew it, and my stomach started doing excited flip-flops as soon as we got off the train. The station was just on the outskirts of town but we took a cab so as not to lose any time walking, asking the driver to let us off at the pawnshop.
It was a musty, dusty-looking store, too small for its contents. There were things stacked and piled everywhere, and it seemed that little attention had been paid to creating any kind of order. The walls were covered with pegboards, and every square inch was cluttered with everything from guitars to porcelain dolls.
I figured the man behind the counter to be the owner, since he watched us with some suspicion from the second we walked inside. He was probably in his fifties, short and chubby with pasty skin that apparently saw little sunlight.
“Yep?” he asked, which I assumed was his way of asking if he could help us.
“Yes, good morning,” Greg nodded to him. “We'd like to see your jewelry.”
“Kinda jewelry?” Apparently small talk was not this man's strong point.
“Oh, rings, watches, necklaces. Shelby here isn't quite sure what she'd like. You know how women are.”
The only reply to this was a grunt, but the man shuffled over to the end wall, lifted a large black case from its resting place beside a rocking chair, and lugged it to the counter.
The inside of the case was surprisingly organized. Once opened, we could see that it contained five separate trays, each holding assorted pieces of jewelry.
I pretended to be interested in several of the items as I looked through, scanning each tray carefully for a watch that matched the description Laura had given. My heart sank when I saw that it wasn't there.
“I don't know, I was really hoping for a watch, but I don't see anything here that's quite what I wanted.”
“Kinda watch?” The thought of making a sale prompted our taciturn helper to summon his voice again.
“Well, something a little fancier than the ones here. Gold, maybe.”
Greg smiled and shrugged. “What can I say. The lady has expensive taste. Would you have anything else?”
His reaction startled us when he turned and walked away without a word. We looked at each other questioningly, wondering what he was up to, but then saw that he was talking to someone on an intercom.
“Joe, got any gold watches?”
“Say what?”
“Watches, gold watches. Got any?”
“Just a sec.”
A moment later a younger and slightly thinner version of the older man appeared from a back entrance. The similarity of what was clearly father and son ended there, though.
“Hey, how are ya? Great day isn't it? Looking for a watch for the little woman, are we? Have you checked
our selection out here? Yes, I see you have. Well, what did you have in mind, exactly?”
“I'd like a dressy watch, something in gold if you have it.”
“Gold, huh? Well, we might have two or three in our holding room, but they won't be for sale until the redemption time is up. If the owners don't come back for them, that is.”
“Would it be possible to see them anyway?” Greg asked. “Then if she likes one, we could check back when it might be available.”
“I don't suppose there'd be any harm in looking,” he winked at me. “Be right back.”
He was gone and back in a flash, holding four small brown envelopes. I knew we'd found what we were looking for before I even saw the third one. The envelope's flap was labelled, in black marker.
It said T. Carter.
I held out my hand as Joe drew out the watch and passed it to me. It fit Laura's description perfectly.
“I love this one,” I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling with the excitement I felt. “How much is it?”
“That one's seventy-five dollars. Those are real diamonds though; it's well worth the price. It's in hock for another, let's see, thirty days or so. But I think you're safe with it. Young fellow brings things in all the time. Never comes back for any of it.”
“We could come back in a month,” I said to Greg, “And get it then.”
“Don't leave it too long,” Joe studied the flap. “It'll be out for sale after the second of June. Good watches don't hang around, so if you want it be sure to come in around that time.”
We thanked him, said goodbye to the pair, and left the store. Neither of us spoke or reacted until we had gone down the street and turned the corner. Then we whooped and did high fives and hugged.
With the rest of the day to kill, we window-shopped and had lunch at a sweet little café where the tables were covered with checkered cloths. The food was only average, but the ambience made up for it, with old-fashioned décor and a waitress dressed in a long, peasant-style skirt and a white blouse.