So Over My Head (29 page)
“Yes, William,” Red says. “It’s an aerial routine that you’ve never seen the likes of. Challenging. In fact, the level of difficulty is so great, it killed the former owners.” Red lowers his head. “My own brother and sister-in-law, God rest their souls. But we’re reviving it, and we will pull it off.”
“I don’t know.” William returns his hat to his round head. “Next Monday, you say?”
“We’re running two shows that night to celebrate our fiftieth anniversary and last night in Truman. First one runs at six. You won’t want to miss it.” Red digs into his pocket and pulls out two tickets. “I got some reserved seats just for you.”
The man takes the tickets and smiles. “I guess I’ll see you next Monday night then.”
Red slaps him on the back. “And bring that checkbook.”
The guys share a few more laughs, then Williams takes his leave. Ruthie and I exchange a look, and I shrug. I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s weird.
I peek my head out again, only to jump back. Red and Stewart are still there, with Stewart facing my way.
“You gonna be ready for next Monday, son?”
“I told you I was.”
“This is more than a performance. Got a lot on the line here.”
“I said I was ready. I won’t mess this up.”
“You only got one shot,” Red says.
One shot at the aerial routine? One shot at what
?
“We go through with the plan just like we talked about. No backing out and no mistakes.” Red’s tone makes goose bumps sprout on my arms.
“You told William last week I was part of the package.”
“I told him you were a powerful part of the Fritz empire. Let him think what he wants. We’ll be long gone with a few million in our pockets by the time he realizes you’re not in the deal. Can you handle two performances Monday night?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“I have big plans for the second one.”
Ruthie and I stare at one another in a frozen tableau.
What does
that mean
?
“It still bugs me that we didn’t find Betty’s hiding spot. That map doesn’t lead anywhere. It’s the riddle that holds the key.”
Red laughs. “We got a buyer, Stewart. We don’t need it! When you’re driving your new sports car, I promise you, it won’t bother you nearly as much.” His cackling grows louder.
“I guess.”
“Well, I know. I can already smell freedom, and it’s worth every price.”
Stools shuffle, and I hold my breath as I hear the sounds of Red and Stewart leaving.
Don’t walk around this way
.
Seconds stretch.
Then only the noises of the carnival.
“They’re gone,” Ruthie whispers.
“Let’s get out of here. I need to talk to Officer Mark.”
“And plant that carnival poster in your car.”
On quivering legs, I walk beside Ruthie around the game booth to the front side.
“Whew.” Ruthie sucks in the night air. “That was pretty close. I was so scared Red and Stewart were going to cut through the back way to the big top and see us.”
“Yeah, me—”
Something catches my eye, and I do a double take at the food booth in front of us.
Artie Jensen.
He stands across the way, holding a Snickers. And staring. His magician’s eyes float down the grassy aisle to Stewart and Red in the distance. Then meander back to us.
He knows we were eavesdropping.
“Ladies.” He holds up his candy bar in a salute. “Nice night for a walk, isn’t it?” He pierces me with his deep brown eyes, and I swallow back fear. “You never know what you might stumble upon.”
Y
ou’re moving up the wedding? You cannot be serious, Dad.”
“Bella, I didn’t call you to get more attitude. I called so you would have time to adjust to the idea and get your travel plans in order.”
I slip into some red flats for Wednesday night church. “Don’t you see what’s going on here?” It sure isn’t an apology. When I saw his number on my phone, I just knew he had called to tell me how sorry he was. “Christina knows I’m onto her. She knows the truth is getting ready to unwind right in front of her eyes like a big tangled ball of yarn.” Okay, bad metaphor, but I’m exhausted. I haven’t exactly been sleeping much these days. “Did you confront her?”
His sigh is impatient, as if he’s barely tolerating me. “I asked her about her sister, yes.”
“And what did she say?”
“That Enrique was mistaken. Mercedes is just her close friend, but in order to get the designer to let her pick it up, she had to tell him Mercedes is her sister.”
“And you
fell
for that?” I’m so sure! “And what about the mystery woman who’s staying in that hotel?”
“Also Mercedes. Look, Bella, this friend of hers has fallen on some really hard times, and Christina’s paying her to run errands and do odd jobs.”
“How convenient.”
“Listen, young lady, you may not like Christina, but you will respect her. She’s going to be my wife this Saturday—and your stepmother.”
Gag. “Did you tell her about the conversation I overheard? What’s this plan she has to stick with?”
“Again, she’s helping Mercedes out. Not that I need to explain any of this to you.”
“Yeah, I guess my own father isn’t my business.”
“That’s not fair, and you know—”
“I’ll see you this Friday. And I’m bringing a friend.”
“Fine. And Bella?”
I plop down on my bed and drag Moxie into my lap. Her gentle purr does nothing to calm me. “What?”
“If you have any plans of ruining this wedding, you should just stay home.”
“Is that what you want me to do—not even come?”
“Of course not.” I hear Dad inhale and let out a ragged breath. “Whether you believe it or not, I love you. You’re my daughter, and I want you there with me. I want to see you in all your feathery glory next to Christina and Marisol.”
Mom yells from downstairs.
“I have to go. I have church.”
“See you Friday?”
I run my finger over Moxie’s jingley collar. “I’ll be there.”
“And no funny business?”
“No.” My heart wilts in my chest. “I think you’ve got that covered all by yourself.”
On the way to church, I ride in Budge’s Death- Mobile. His hearse follows Mom, Robbie, and a newly returned Jake in their Tahoe.
“When did Dad roll in?” Budge yells over his screamo music.
“About thirty minutes before you got in from work.”
He turns down the volume, apparently not finding the song “Road Kill Pizza with a Side of Cattle Prods” conducive to conversation. “Did you hear them fighting?”
“Yeah.” How could I
not
hear it? “I somehow found my ear pressed against their bedroom door.”
Budge sends me a sideways glance. “That happens. Kind of like I happened to find myself in front of the vent in the laundry room.”
“The one that’s connected to their room. Nice.” I nod in appreciation. “Did Robbie notice?” It kills me to think of that little guy watching his new family falling apart before his eyes.
“No, I made him go feed his cow.”
“What are we going to do?”
Budge swerves in the dirt road, barely missing one of Mr. Patton’s ducks. “I’ve, uh . . . I’ve been praying about it.”
I shake my head to try and dislodge the ear clog. “That’s funny. I thought you just said—”
“I prayed about it, okay?”
“It’s okay to admit that.” I smile at his defensive tone. “You’ve really come a long way since you started dating Ruthie.”
“She’s all right.” A grin spreads across his ruddy face. “A little psycho, but I dig her.”
He does more than dig her, and we both know it. “I’m really worried about Mom and Jake. It’s not working, Budge. Mom’s mad all the time. Jake’s never home. And the more successful he gets, the worse it will be.”
“So you like it here in Truman?”
I pull my eyes from the road and face my stepbrother. “I’m about to weird you out, so brace yourself.”
“Nuh-uh. Don’t do it. Do
not
say—”
“I love you.”
“Oh, man! Dude.”
I start to giggle. “I love you and Robbie. And his stupid cow. And our rundown farm house. And your dad.”
“I’m gonna have to pull off the side of the road and hurl.”
“And I love our family dinners. I miss those, you know?”
“
What
have I done to deserve this moment?”
I plod on, talking right over his protests. “I’d even miss fighting over the bathroom. And this nasty hearse that at one time I was too good to even look at.”
Budge laughs at the memory. “You were so stuck-up.”
“And you were such a tool.”
Silence hangs in the car, as we stare at the back of our parents’ Tahoe.
“I don’t want to lose our family either,” Budge says. “Robbie needs all of us. Together.”
“Right. For Robbie’s sake.” We all need our family. “So what are we going to do about it?”
“That is so you, Evil Stepsister-O-Mine.” Budge shakes a finger in my face. “You try to fix everything. But we’re not going to do a thing.”
“We have to. We can’t just sit back and watch our family crumble in the name of spandex and body slams.”
“Sitting back is exactly what we’re going to do.” He pauses, his mouth seeming to try to push out a difficult thought. “I, um . . . I know it’s going to work out.”
“What is this, Budge the Disney version?”
“No. I mean . . . I don’t know, Bella.” He shoves a chubby hand through his oversized ’fro. “I’ve just really been talking to God about this, and . . . I have a peace about it. Don’t ask me how, but I know this is going to be okay.”
“Have you been snorting mustard at the Weiner Palace again?”
Budge rolls down his window and lets the spring breeze inside. “Yeah, it’s nuts. I mean, what do I know? Up until recently I’ve been the church dropout. But I cannot shake this feeling.”
I study his serious face.
God, it’s like this trust issue keeps jumping
up like a carp and slapping me in the face
.
Even Budge seems to be getting
it. Why can’t I
?
“Forget it.” Budge jerks a hard left with the wheel. “It was stupid.”
I let his words hang there for a moment before answering. “No. It’s not.” I take a cleansing breath and pray for boost of faith. A Red Bull of belief. “If you say you have a peace about it, then that’s that. God has obviously spoken to you.” Why can’t the Big Guy say these things to me? “Thanks for telling me.” A trust lesson from Budge Afro Finley. What is the world coming to?
He cranks up the radio, and we sing—or yell—the rest of the way to church.
I push open the heavy door of the car and set my foot onto the parking lot. “Oh, and Budge?”
“Yeah?” He grabs his Bible from the back.
“You know you’d, like, donate a kidney if I needed one.”
“You’re right. I would.”
I smile in triumph.
“But only if I got a big, fat check.”
Wanting a little distance from the frosty exhaust between Mom and Jake, I find Lindy and Matt and sit beside them. Matt’s in the middle of a story that has my friend howling with laughter. They don’t even stop to say hi to me. Just keep on talking. Keep on laughing.
“This seat taken?”
I look up to find Luke. He obviously got his hair cut after school, as it doesn’t curl around his neck, but stands up in a deceptively messy pattern. Nothing accidentally messy about this boy.
“What are you doing here?”
He settles in beside me, his arm sliding against mine on the seat rest. “I didn’t feel like driving all the way out to my church tonight. With all that’s been going on, I’m kind of tired.”
I narrow my eyes and scrutinize every twitch of his face. “You’re checking up on me, aren’t you?” Luke’s church isn’t
that
far out of town.
“Can a guy not visit a church without there being an ulterior motive?”
I point right at his button-down oxford. “Not you.” But being next to him does give me some comfort. Even though I put the carnival poster in my dash Monday night, Alfredo hasn’t contacted me yet. I’m still waiting. And stressing.
He settles his Bible in his lap and focuses toward the front. “Matt and Lindy seem to be getting along well.”
“Don’t change the subject.” But I glance to my left. “Yeah, they are. I’m glad they didn’t let their friendship get too off track.” I turn back. “Romance can do that.”