All Alone in the Universe by Lynne Rae Perkins Page B

had tags hanging from the zipper; leave it to people in Deer Church to know where to find snow while the rest of us sputtered along in the drab gray nothing that hovers between autumn and real winter. George was wearing a car coat and a brown plaid scarf. He looked great, too, just because he was George.
    “Who are they?” asked Patty.
    “It‧s a long story,” I said. “I‧ll tell you later.”
    Maybe later I could also explain why happiness was spurting up inside me at the sight of them.
    “George!” I called out. “Mrs. Brown!”
    They turned, and there was that moment that happens before someone recognizes you. It can happen with your own family, if you catch them off guard. I helped them out.
    “I‧m Debbie,” I said. “I came to your garden last summer—”
    “Of course!” said Mrs. Brown. “And we‧ve been waiting for you to come back ever since.”
    “I knew I had connections in this town,” said George.
    “What are you doing in Seldem?” I asked.
    “Pie,” said Mrs. Brown. “Pie brings us here. George was kind enough to help me out with a big chore over in Plum Borough, and coming back, we decided the only way to keep up our strength and salvage the afternoon was to have some coffee and maybe a little dessert.”
    I noticed that we were all standing next to the Idle Hour Restaurant “They do have really good pie here,” I said.
    George spoke to Patty. “I don‧t believe we‧ve met,” he said, “unless you have changed markedly.”
    She laughed. “I‧m Patty,” she said. “Patty Tsimmicz.”
    “Oops,” I said. “I should have done that.”
    “Why don‧t you come in with us?” said Mrs. Brown. “Do you have the time? You can tell us which kind is the best.”
    So we did. Think about it, though. What are the chances that we would be walking by the Idle Hour at the exact moment George and Mrs. Brown stopped there? But there we were, ordering peach pie with ice cream in a booth with yellow vinyl seats. It felt like something that was supposed to happen. I felt that George and Mrs. Brown were people I was going to keep knowing somehow. It crossed my mind that if my mother had happened to see us sitting there, I would have had a hard time explaining how I knew them. What was I going to tell her when they showed up someday at my wedding? Well, that I could worry about later. But a reflex made me wipe the fog from the window and look out. That‧s when I saw what I almost didn‧t see that day, coming down the sidewalk. I saw Glenna and Maureen and a boy with his arm around Maureen‧s waist, and hers around his, girlfriend-boyfriend style.
    Wow, I thought Who‧s that?
    Glenna‧s smile was pasted to her frozen face as she matched her pace to theirs. From behind her determined brightness peered the eyes of a frightened animal. They passed by our window, and, for an accidental instant Glenna‧s rattled eyes met mine. I wanted to feel satisfaction and revenge. But it was too much like looking into a mirror. I couldn‧t fit any spite into the small smile I tossed out like a tiny, halfhearted lifeline.
    They walked by, and I scrambled back up onshore.

thirteen
     

     
    “W E‧RE ALL A LITTLE GREEN AROUND THE GILLS,” MY MOTHER said into the phone. She was still in her pink bathrobe and slippers. No makeup yet. She was telling Mrs. Schimpf we wouldn‧t be in church because of the flu. She winked at me as I took a package of English muffins out of the bread drawer. I was feeling better. And I was starved.

     
    “Ed says he feels like he got hit with a Mack truck,” Mom told Mrs. Schimpf.
    My dad and Chrisanne were still upstairs in bed, limp washrags trying not to move. The house was dark and still, except for the light over the kitchen sink and the radio on low. The smell of my toasting English muffin filled the stale air with the promise of health and life, like the first crocus of spring. But it probably made Dad and Chrisanne queasy. I needed to breathe some fresh