Achingly Alice by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Author:Phyllis Reynolds Naylor [Naylor, Phyllis Reynolds]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, GR
ISBN: 9780689803550
Goodreads: 1321818
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

7

PERSUASION

DAD WENT TO BED SHORTLY AFTER I GOT home—Elizabeth’s dad picked us up—and didn’t even ask if Miss Summers was there, so I didn’t tell him. He’d been working on income taxes, and when Dad’s doing taxes, he has a one-track mind.

I couldn’t sleep, though. I was still wide awake at two o’clock when I heard the front door close, and Lester’s footsteps on the stairs. I got up, pulled on my robe, and stuck my head in his room.

“Lester … ?” I whispered.

He jumped. “Ye gods, Al! Don’t hiss at me. You sound like a snake.”

“Could I talk for just a minute?” I went on in and closed the door. Lester was taking off his shoes, so I sat down beside him on the bed.

“I saw something horrible tonight,” I began.

He glanced at me quickly. “Accident, right?”

“Worse.”

He waited.

“Mr. Sorringer and Miss Summers were dancing cheek to cheek at the Valentine’s dance.”

I could see Lester’s shoulders slump with relief, but I could tell by his face that it wasn’t the best news he’d ever heard, either.

“It just isn’t right, Lester! The way she was with Dad at Christmas—how can she go do something like that!”

“Is that all they did?” he asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

“Probably not,” I sniffled. “Probably at this very moment, while Dad’s sleeping peacefully in his room, Mr. Sorringer is over at Miss Summers’s house helping her take off her black lace slip with the slit up one side.”

“Whoa! You even know what kind of underwear she owns? What do you do? Snoop?”

“I saw her buying it once.”

“Well, neither of us knows what’s happening between her and Mr. Sorringer, Al, so it makes no sense to guess. But just because a man and a woman dance cheek to cheek doesn’t mean they’ve got something going.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No. I can remember when high school teachers came to dances with their wives and sometimes they exchanged partners and danced cheek to cheek. But it doesn’t necessarily mean they were trading bed partners.”

Did you ever notice how one word can suddenly add another crack to your nice, peaceful view of the world?

“Necessarily?” I squeaked, and stared at my brother. “Lester, are you telling me that those high school teachers probably didn’t, but could have been, trading wives?”

“Well, it’s been done.”

“You mean …” I gasped. “I’ll trade you a blonde for a brunette, or a fat for a skinny, as though they were baseball cards or something?” I was horrified.

“Al, I didn’t say it happened.”

“And when the wives who got traded went to the other wives’ houses, they put on the first wives’ nightgowns and …”

“Will you shut up?”

I just couldn’t take any more. I got dramatically to my feet. “If this is your world, Lester, I don’t want it,” I said, and marched toward the door. But I stubbed my toe on the foot of his bed and collapsed against the wall, holding my toe and sobbing.

Lester put his hands on my shoulders and guided me over to his desk chair to recover.

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