excitement. “I just got off the phone with Joan Cortland,” she smiled. “Guess what?”
Deanne shrugged her shoulders, afraid to look at her mother’s face. She was afraid she would burst into tears.
“Deanne, dear,” her mother interrupted herself. “Please sit up straight. Don’t slump.”
Deanne squared her shoulders. “Guess who’s taking you to the Hospital Charity Ball next month?”
Deanne caught her breath.
“Judson Cortland!” Mrs. Vandervoort smiled triumphantly. Deanne felt her cheeks burn hotly.
How could mother do this to me?
she asked herself. How could she humiliate me by arranging a date with the most handsome boy in the entire city?
The
most popular boy in school!
“Well, you could at least show some enthusiasm,” her mother said.
“I don’t want to go . . . ,” Deanne began.
“Not go! You can’t be serious!” Mrs. Vandervoort cried. “But, Deanne, it’s not only
the
social event of the spring season, your own mother is chairperson of the entire event. And your father is chief of staff at All-Children’s. Why, you must know how important this ball is!”
Deanne hung her head feeling guilty. Of course, she knew how important the annual Charity Ball was to All-Children’s Hospital. Most of the funds to run the hospital came from the ball. With her father as chief of staff, as well as one of the top surgeons on the East Coast, she knew that the ball was important to his position, too.
But she hated the circus atmosphere of the entire thing. Why did something as important as raising money to save the lives of sick kids have to depend on a stupid social event like the Charity Ball? Why did her mother have to fix her up with a date for the ball?
Deanne thought she knew the answer to that question: No guy would ever think to ask her out on his own.
Who would want to go out with an overweight frump like me?
she thought.
“It’s out of the question,” Mrs. Vandervoort said forcefully. “You are going to the ball. We are going shopping for a beautiful new dress for you. And you
will
have a wonderful time with Judson. Is that clear?”
Deanne bit her lower lip hard and nodded.
Mother-1, Deanne-0
, she thought.
As usual
.
Suddenly, Mrs. Vandervoort glanced down at her watch. “Oh, my! Look at the time. I have to be at the hospital in thirty minutes for a Guild meeting about the ball. We have a million details to go over. Get your sweater, and I’ll bring the car around to the front driveway.”
Her mother left the large, sunny kitchen and Deanne got up heavily from the table. Normally, she loved going to the hospital. But now she felt so depressed. Once again, she was stuck doing exactly what her mother wanted her to do.
It doesn’t matter one bit what I want to do
, she thought.
Deanne looked longingly at the refrigerator. How she would love to sit down with a big bowl of ice cream! But of course, there was no time. And besides, her mother would kill her.
The car horn sounded. Deanne rushed for the hall closet to get a sweater. It would be cool in the late spring afternoon air. She felt lonely and angry. She had to find a way to stop her mother from running her life. She couldn’t face a whole summer of arranged dates and boring empty parties. She refused to spend all her time chasing around after her mother’s dreams.
Deanne locked the front door, slamming it behind her.
Judson Cortland III!
Deanne felt her cheeks flush.
How could Mother do this to me?
she wondered.
“Really, Deanne, stop overreacting. He’s a very nice boy. And very handsome, too, I might add.”
“Oh, yes,” Deanne agreed, her mind a jumble of thoughts. Yes, Judson was very handsome, all right. He was also the most popular boy at Baylor Prep. She could just imagine the look on his face when his mother broke the news to him about his date for the ball. Deanne swallowed hard and tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did. Imagine . . . Judson stuck with dull, boring, overweight Deanne
Deanne shrugged her shoulders, afraid to look at her mother’s face. She was afraid she would burst into tears.
“Deanne, dear,” her mother interrupted herself. “Please sit up straight. Don’t slump.”
Deanne squared her shoulders. “Guess who’s taking you to the Hospital Charity Ball next month?”
Deanne caught her breath.
“Judson Cortland!” Mrs. Vandervoort smiled triumphantly. Deanne felt her cheeks burn hotly.
How could mother do this to me?
she asked herself. How could she humiliate me by arranging a date with the most handsome boy in the entire city?
The
most popular boy in school!
“Well, you could at least show some enthusiasm,” her mother said.
“I don’t want to go . . . ,” Deanne began.
“Not go! You can’t be serious!” Mrs. Vandervoort cried. “But, Deanne, it’s not only
the
social event of the spring season, your own mother is chairperson of the entire event. And your father is chief of staff at All-Children’s. Why, you must know how important this ball is!”
Deanne hung her head feeling guilty. Of course, she knew how important the annual Charity Ball was to All-Children’s Hospital. Most of the funds to run the hospital came from the ball. With her father as chief of staff, as well as one of the top surgeons on the East Coast, she knew that the ball was important to his position, too.
But she hated the circus atmosphere of the entire thing. Why did something as important as raising money to save the lives of sick kids have to depend on a stupid social event like the Charity Ball? Why did her mother have to fix her up with a date for the ball?
Deanne thought she knew the answer to that question: No guy would ever think to ask her out on his own.
Who would want to go out with an overweight frump like me?
she thought.
“It’s out of the question,” Mrs. Vandervoort said forcefully. “You are going to the ball. We are going shopping for a beautiful new dress for you. And you
will
have a wonderful time with Judson. Is that clear?”
Deanne bit her lower lip hard and nodded.
Mother-1, Deanne-0
, she thought.
As usual
.
Suddenly, Mrs. Vandervoort glanced down at her watch. “Oh, my! Look at the time. I have to be at the hospital in thirty minutes for a Guild meeting about the ball. We have a million details to go over. Get your sweater, and I’ll bring the car around to the front driveway.”
Her mother left the large, sunny kitchen and Deanne got up heavily from the table. Normally, she loved going to the hospital. But now she felt so depressed. Once again, she was stuck doing exactly what her mother wanted her to do.
It doesn’t matter one bit what I want to do
, she thought.
Deanne looked longingly at the refrigerator. How she would love to sit down with a big bowl of ice cream! But of course, there was no time. And besides, her mother would kill her.
The car horn sounded. Deanne rushed for the hall closet to get a sweater. It would be cool in the late spring afternoon air. She felt lonely and angry. She had to find a way to stop her mother from running her life. She couldn’t face a whole summer of arranged dates and boring empty parties. She refused to spend all her time chasing around after her mother’s dreams.
Deanne locked the front door, slamming it behind her.
Judson Cortland III!
Deanne felt her cheeks flush.
How could Mother do this to me?
she wondered.
“Really, Deanne, stop overreacting. He’s a very nice boy. And very handsome, too, I might add.”
“Oh, yes,” Deanne agreed, her mind a jumble of thoughts. Yes, Judson was very handsome, all right. He was also the most popular boy at Baylor Prep. She could just imagine the look on his face when his mother broke the news to him about his date for the ball. Deanne swallowed hard and tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did. Imagine . . . Judson stuck with dull, boring, overweight Deanne
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