seems that your leg has gotten a lot better, too.”
“Fresh country air,” Stevie said with conviction. “Best medicine there is.” She made a little jump, as if to assure him that she was, in fact, a lot better. He nodded non-committally. Betsy stifled a laugh.
In a few more minutes, they were all done. Stevie was ready to go back to the Slatterys, and Betsy was headed for her house in the opposite direction. A half an hourlater, Stevie was at the Slatterys’, up in Dinah’s bedroom, sharing the days’ events.
“I tasted the sap,” she said. “It was only slightly sweet. It’s hard to imagine that that’s going to become the wonderful stuff I like to put on pancakes.”
“Do I really have to go tonight?” Dinah asked. She seemed totally unaware of anything Stevie had said after the part about Mr. Daviet’s insistence that she be at the Sugar Hut tonight.
“He said so,” Stevie said. “He sounded like he meant it. Can’t you make it?” That was when Stevie realized that Dinah was in her bed and hadn’t been out of it since she’d gotten home.
“I don’t know,” Dinah said. “I hurt an awful lot. And even if I do make it, I don’t know how I’ll hide all my injuries from my parents and Mr. Daviet. I mean, look at this bruise on my cheek!”
Stevie turned the light around so it pointed at Dinah. Then she saw. Dinah had several bruises, and a deep red scratch on one of her arms. The other was sore, but not bruised yet. On her right cheek, near her ear, there was an abrasion that was red now and would most certainly be black-and-blue by morning, if not before.
“I look like some kind of awful ‘Before’ picture,” Dinah complained. “I’ve told my parents I had a stomachache.”
“Same thing I told Mr. Daviet.”
“That’s all fine and good, but it’s made my mother say Ishouldn’t have anything to eat, and the fact is, the only part of me that’s really working is my stomach!”
“Okay, okay, one problem at a time,” Stevie said. “I told you in the first place that we could cope with this, and I meant it. First, we’re going to do a makeover.”
“Makeover! What do you think this is, a slumber party?”
“Not exactly,” Stevie said. “The thing is, see, as every parent knows, when two girls get together, one of them is going to
try
to make the other one look better. Basically, as far as I can tell, that means that one of them wants to do an experiment on the other that they’d never
dare
do on themselves. Anyway, what you need right now is a new hairstyle—”
“What I need right now is
lunch
!”
“—that covers that ugly scrape on your face. And it’s time you traded your usual stylish, tailored look of dress for the baggy, cover-up look.”
“Oh,” Dinah said, getting Stevie’s drift. “You mean, with a little bit of help from my friend, I can actually go to the Sugar Hut tonight?”
“A promise is a promise,” Stevie reminded her. “Now, sit up. We have work to do. And in the meantime, you may want this.” Stevie fished into her pocket and brought out a mangled peanut butter sandwich. Dinah devoured it—not even wanting to ask what Stevie had done to acquire it.
Stevie went into the bathroom and loaded herself down with as much as she could carry. She had everything from mousse to electric curling iron, to makeup, to ribbons, to hair spray. When she returned, Dinah was still in the process of sitting up, wincing painfully. That, Stevie realized, would be the hardest thing of all to cover up. Pain was harder to mask than scratches.
“T HAT ’ S WHAT YOU’RE wearing?” Mr. Slattery asked when Dinah and Stevie descended the stairs in time for supper.
“Isn’t it cool?” Dinah asked with conviction. “Stevie did it!”
Both the Slatterys looked at Stevie, apparently seeing her in a new light. Stevie had the feeling she might not be so welcome in their house another time. However, there was an appearance to keep up.
“It’s a new look
“Fresh country air,” Stevie said with conviction. “Best medicine there is.” She made a little jump, as if to assure him that she was, in fact, a lot better. He nodded non-committally. Betsy stifled a laugh.
In a few more minutes, they were all done. Stevie was ready to go back to the Slatterys, and Betsy was headed for her house in the opposite direction. A half an hourlater, Stevie was at the Slatterys’, up in Dinah’s bedroom, sharing the days’ events.
“I tasted the sap,” she said. “It was only slightly sweet. It’s hard to imagine that that’s going to become the wonderful stuff I like to put on pancakes.”
“Do I really have to go tonight?” Dinah asked. She seemed totally unaware of anything Stevie had said after the part about Mr. Daviet’s insistence that she be at the Sugar Hut tonight.
“He said so,” Stevie said. “He sounded like he meant it. Can’t you make it?” That was when Stevie realized that Dinah was in her bed and hadn’t been out of it since she’d gotten home.
“I don’t know,” Dinah said. “I hurt an awful lot. And even if I do make it, I don’t know how I’ll hide all my injuries from my parents and Mr. Daviet. I mean, look at this bruise on my cheek!”
Stevie turned the light around so it pointed at Dinah. Then she saw. Dinah had several bruises, and a deep red scratch on one of her arms. The other was sore, but not bruised yet. On her right cheek, near her ear, there was an abrasion that was red now and would most certainly be black-and-blue by morning, if not before.
“I look like some kind of awful ‘Before’ picture,” Dinah complained. “I’ve told my parents I had a stomachache.”
“Same thing I told Mr. Daviet.”
“That’s all fine and good, but it’s made my mother say Ishouldn’t have anything to eat, and the fact is, the only part of me that’s really working is my stomach!”
“Okay, okay, one problem at a time,” Stevie said. “I told you in the first place that we could cope with this, and I meant it. First, we’re going to do a makeover.”
“Makeover! What do you think this is, a slumber party?”
“Not exactly,” Stevie said. “The thing is, see, as every parent knows, when two girls get together, one of them is going to
try
to make the other one look better. Basically, as far as I can tell, that means that one of them wants to do an experiment on the other that they’d never
dare
do on themselves. Anyway, what you need right now is a new hairstyle—”
“What I need right now is
lunch
!”
“—that covers that ugly scrape on your face. And it’s time you traded your usual stylish, tailored look of dress for the baggy, cover-up look.”
“Oh,” Dinah said, getting Stevie’s drift. “You mean, with a little bit of help from my friend, I can actually go to the Sugar Hut tonight?”
“A promise is a promise,” Stevie reminded her. “Now, sit up. We have work to do. And in the meantime, you may want this.” Stevie fished into her pocket and brought out a mangled peanut butter sandwich. Dinah devoured it—not even wanting to ask what Stevie had done to acquire it.
Stevie went into the bathroom and loaded herself down with as much as she could carry. She had everything from mousse to electric curling iron, to makeup, to ribbons, to hair spray. When she returned, Dinah was still in the process of sitting up, wincing painfully. That, Stevie realized, would be the hardest thing of all to cover up. Pain was harder to mask than scratches.
“T HAT ’ S WHAT YOU’RE wearing?” Mr. Slattery asked when Dinah and Stevie descended the stairs in time for supper.
“Isn’t it cool?” Dinah asked with conviction. “Stevie did it!”
Both the Slatterys looked at Stevie, apparently seeing her in a new light. Stevie had the feeling she might not be so welcome in their house another time. However, there was an appearance to keep up.
“It’s a new look
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