exchanging suspicious glances. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Susan Peterson said casually. “Except that when Amanda Carson fell off the cliff, she was wearing a black dress and a black bonnet, just like the girl you dreamed about last night.”
“How do you know?” Michelle demanded.
“Everybody knows,” Susan said complacently. “She always wore black, every day of her life. My grandmother told me, and her mother told her. And my great-grandmother knew Amanda Carson,” Susan said triumphantly. Her eyes challenged Michelle. Once again a silence fell over the group. Was Susan telling her the truth, or were they all teasing her? Michelle looked from one face to another, trying to see what each of them was thinking. Only Sally met her eyes,and she merely shrugged when Michelle looked to her for help. Jeff Benson continued eating his sandwich, and carefully avoided Michelle’s gaze.
“It was a dream!” Michelle exclaimed, gathering her things together, and getting to her feet. “It was only a dream, and if I’d known you were going to make such a big deal about it, I’d never have mentioned it!”
Before any of them could make a reply, Michelle stalked away. Across the playground, she could see a group of younger children playing jump rope. A moment later she had joined them.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her?” Susan Peterson said when she was sure Michelle was out of earshot. Now her friends were staring at her.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong with her?” Sally Carstairs asked. “Nothing’s wrong with her!”
“Really?” Susan said, sounding annoyed at the contradiction. “She tattled on you yesterday, didn’t she? Why do you think Miss Hatcher changed the seating around? It was because Michelle told her what you did yesterday morning.”
“So what?” Sally countered. “She just didn’t want you to be mad at her, that’s all.”
“I think she’s sneaky,” Susan said. “And I don’t think we should have anything to do with her.”
“That’s mean.”
“No, it’s not There’s something really strange about her.”
“What?”
Susan’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I saw her with her parents the other day, and they’re both blond. And everybody knows blonds can’t have a dark-haired baby.”
“Big deal,” Sally said. “If you want to know, she’s adopted. She told me so herself. What’s so strange about that?”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that settles it.”
“Settles what?” Sally asked.
“Settles her , of course. I mean, nobody knows where she really came from, and my mother says if you don’t know anything about somebody’s family, you don’t know anything about the person.”
“I know her family,” Sally pointed out. “Her mother’s very nice, and her father treated my arm, along with Uncle Joe.”
“I mean her real family,” Susan said, looking at Sally contemptuously. “Dr. Pendleton isn’t her father. Her father could be anybody!”
“Well, I like her,” Sally insisted. Susan glowered at her.
“You would—your father’s only a janitor.” Susan Peterson’s father owned the Paradise Point Bank, and Susan never let her friends forget it.
Hurt by Susan’s meanness, Sally Carstairs lapsed into silence. It wasn’t fair of Susan to dislike Michelle just because she was adopted, but Sally wasn’t sure what she should say. After all, she’d known Susan Peterson all her life, and she’d only just met Michelle Pendleton. Well , Sally decided, I won’t say anything. But I won’t stop being Michelle’s friend, either .
June finished her lunch, and put the dishes in the sink. For now, she would go back to the studio, and try to finish sketching in the seascape.
She left the house, but as she walked to the studio, she found herself glancing north, and thinking aboutwhat Constance Benson had told her that morning. And then something struck her.
If Constance Benson was worried about that part of the
“Nothing,” Susan Peterson said casually. “Except that when Amanda Carson fell off the cliff, she was wearing a black dress and a black bonnet, just like the girl you dreamed about last night.”
“How do you know?” Michelle demanded.
“Everybody knows,” Susan said complacently. “She always wore black, every day of her life. My grandmother told me, and her mother told her. And my great-grandmother knew Amanda Carson,” Susan said triumphantly. Her eyes challenged Michelle. Once again a silence fell over the group. Was Susan telling her the truth, or were they all teasing her? Michelle looked from one face to another, trying to see what each of them was thinking. Only Sally met her eyes,and she merely shrugged when Michelle looked to her for help. Jeff Benson continued eating his sandwich, and carefully avoided Michelle’s gaze.
“It was a dream!” Michelle exclaimed, gathering her things together, and getting to her feet. “It was only a dream, and if I’d known you were going to make such a big deal about it, I’d never have mentioned it!”
Before any of them could make a reply, Michelle stalked away. Across the playground, she could see a group of younger children playing jump rope. A moment later she had joined them.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her?” Susan Peterson said when she was sure Michelle was out of earshot. Now her friends were staring at her.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong with her?” Sally Carstairs asked. “Nothing’s wrong with her!”
“Really?” Susan said, sounding annoyed at the contradiction. “She tattled on you yesterday, didn’t she? Why do you think Miss Hatcher changed the seating around? It was because Michelle told her what you did yesterday morning.”
“So what?” Sally countered. “She just didn’t want you to be mad at her, that’s all.”
“I think she’s sneaky,” Susan said. “And I don’t think we should have anything to do with her.”
“That’s mean.”
“No, it’s not There’s something really strange about her.”
“What?”
Susan’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I saw her with her parents the other day, and they’re both blond. And everybody knows blonds can’t have a dark-haired baby.”
“Big deal,” Sally said. “If you want to know, she’s adopted. She told me so herself. What’s so strange about that?”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that settles it.”
“Settles what?” Sally asked.
“Settles her , of course. I mean, nobody knows where she really came from, and my mother says if you don’t know anything about somebody’s family, you don’t know anything about the person.”
“I know her family,” Sally pointed out. “Her mother’s very nice, and her father treated my arm, along with Uncle Joe.”
“I mean her real family,” Susan said, looking at Sally contemptuously. “Dr. Pendleton isn’t her father. Her father could be anybody!”
“Well, I like her,” Sally insisted. Susan glowered at her.
“You would—your father’s only a janitor.” Susan Peterson’s father owned the Paradise Point Bank, and Susan never let her friends forget it.
Hurt by Susan’s meanness, Sally Carstairs lapsed into silence. It wasn’t fair of Susan to dislike Michelle just because she was adopted, but Sally wasn’t sure what she should say. After all, she’d known Susan Peterson all her life, and she’d only just met Michelle Pendleton. Well , Sally decided, I won’t say anything. But I won’t stop being Michelle’s friend, either .
June finished her lunch, and put the dishes in the sink. For now, she would go back to the studio, and try to finish sketching in the seascape.
She left the house, but as she walked to the studio, she found herself glancing north, and thinking aboutwhat Constance Benson had told her that morning. And then something struck her.
If Constance Benson was worried about that part of the
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