Chapter One
Before coming to America, I lived in France with my mother. But she died of natural causes. And since no one knows what has happened to my dad, I had to live with the only relative willing to take me in. So I moved in with my grandfather. I knew I’d start becoming as miserable as he is. And he is miserable, the old coot.
Grandfather - as he specifically wishes to be called - doesn’t want me to participate in anything outside of the Lawrence mansion. I have private tutors. I have resources at the ready. And everything I might need - like clothes or shoes - is shipped or purchased by an in-house shopper. The old man has everything at his disposal. And he wants me to have the same mentality.
We live in a very calm neighborhood. We’re the largest house, obviously. All the parties are held here. By parties, I mean black tie dinner parties. High class, posh gatherings with my grandfather’s business friends and partners. There are many common guests too. Common being the word Grandfather uses for middle class families. Why he wanted to invite them? I’m not entirely sure.
Among those guests are the neighbors that live closest to us. The March family. Four incredibly intriguing girls who live with their mother and housekeeper. If they have a father, brother or any sort of male figure around them, I’ve never seen them. I don’t know their names. I’ve never actually spoken to them. But something about them always makes me want to know them.
I’ve been hiding in Grandfather’s study. Eating the food. Watching the eldest of the March girls smile and flirt with the guys. She’s a beauty, that one. Tall, slim and fair. Her eyes are light, her hair dark blond. Heartbreaker, that one. I mean, I don’t know that for sure, but she gives that vibe.
I look down at the strawberry parfait in my hand as I go for another bite. Sitting in the chair next to the door. Just as I am looking back up, my face comes in contact with someone’s backside. I grunt and jolt upright. My actions are insync with a squeaky gasp as the intruder turns around in surprise.
“I’m so sorry!”
I all but freeze. In front of me is the second oldest of the March girls. I caught her doing a version of the “Gotta go” dance earlier. She’s rather entertaining.
“Fault’s mine,” I say; smooth recovery. “What dance were you doing out there?”
She blushes, “I was told to keep my backside away from anyone’s sight,” she replies, clearing her throat. “I kinda forgot that I sat on a bench with wet paint.”
“No,” I’m grinning ear to ear as I try to make her turn to see the evidence. Sure enough, the back of her red, knee-length skirt is striped with black paint.
“It’s not so bad,” I tell her as we move further into the office. “I’m Theodore Lawrence.”
“Joanne March,” she says, about to shake my extended hand. “But everyone calls me Jo. Do people call you Theodore?”
“No, they call me Laurie.”
Jo smiles, nodding her head as she glances around. She folds her hands behind her back - probably out of habit, to hide her ruined skirt - and walks over to look at the artwork. She’s not quite as tall as her sister, but shares the same slender form. Only her hair is darker. More brown than blonde. I wouldn’t say she’s fair, but she’s pretty. Very pretty.
“I didn’t mean to barge into your hiding spot,” Jo says, swinging around, arms and everything.
“No,” I shake my head. “Barge away. You’re saving me from boredom in here!”
She laughs and asks, “What were you doing before I almost sat on you?”
“I was people watching,” I motion for her to come and point out the door to her sister.
“Oh, that’s Meg! Isn’t she beautiful?”
I grunt in agreement, but don’t add anything. Jo smiles and straightens from her lowered stance.
“I see you staring at me and sisters from your bedroom window,” she says with a hint of mock-accusation. “If you secretly make fun of us, I’m afraid I’ll have to walk away right now.”
“Make fun of you?” I ask, placing my hand over my heart. “You wound me. I would never do such a thing.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you were the type, ha-ha!”
I chuckle, “You always look like you’re having fun.”
“Oh, we do! Fun that would make you think we were way too immature. Which I kind of am, but I’m trying to stay young for as long as I can.”
“That’s not terrible. It’s thinking ahead before you’re forced to grow up.”
“Right!”
Jo covers her mouth when her voice gets loud. Her brown eyes grow wide. I glance out the door, checking to make sure no one heard the noise and wasn’t coming to investigate. When no one comes our way, I’m quick to shut the door and lean my back against it. I show my teeth, not exactly a smile. Jo laughs, throwing her head back as she lets her hand fall from her mouth.
“Do you like dancing?” I ask, walking towards her and leaving my dessert cup on the desk.
“I have two left feet,” Jo replies, nodding. “But yes. I do like dancing.”
I offer my hand, bowing slightly. And rather mockingly, too. Jo laughs and places her hand in mine. We step towards the door, which I open slightly to let the current song in. It’s rather loud, considering.
The next hour or so passes in breathless laughter and messy dancing. Jo has two left feet alright. She keeps stepping on my toes. And she keeps leading.
“Sorry, Meg always makes me man!” she says when I grumble a complaint. “It’s too bad you don’t know the girl part.”
We dance around a back corner and through a door that leads into another room. Right passed Meg.
“Jo!” she says with relief. “We need to go home, now.”
“Why?” Jo asks, deflated. “I was finally having some fun. Oh! This is Laurie. Our neighbor and host.”
“I’m not really the host,” I cut in, but Meg talks over me.
“I tripped hurt my knee.”
“You tore your good dress,” Jo acknowledges, shaking her head. “And you thought I’d make a fool of myself.”
“Now’s not the time to rub it in my face, Joanne! I need you to help me get home.”
“Oh, fine. Laurie, it was great to meet you. I’m sorry, again, about your poor toes.”
I smile and nod, “It was nice meeting you too,” I say. “You know, if you need a lift home, I can borrow one of Grandfather’s car.”
“He can’t hear you from here,” Jo lowers her voice. “You can call him ‘Grandpa’ or ‘Pop’.”
“He has ears everywhere,” I whisper back before bringing my voice back to normal volume. “So, how ’bout that ride?”
“Thank you, but,” Meg is about to say, but Jo interrupts her.
“That would be awesome. Meg, I won’t be able to carry you. A car would make it easier.”
Meg sighs her relent, and nods.
“That would be really great,” she says, offering a forced smile. “Thank you . . . Laurie.”
Jo beams in triumph. As we both bend down to help Meg stand, I can’t help but notice the way my heartbeat changes rhythm. My fingers barely skim Jo’s behind Meg’s back. I’m not sure if Jo felt anything, but I definitely felt a spark of electricity.
***
After helping Meg into the house, and receiving a generous “Thank you” from her mother, in form of apple pie, I start to excuse myself. Grandfather - Gramps, as Jo and I are secretly calling him - will definitely be wondering where I am.
“Do you have to be at that stuffy party?” Jo asks as she joins me at the front door. “No offence, but you did say you were hiding.”
I chuckle, “Yeah,” I reply, nodding as I glance down at our shoes. “If I’m not back in the next five minutes, I think Gramps will end up sending out a search party. I’m kinda on house arrest.”
“You? What for?”
“Well . . .” I exhale, contemplating whether I should tell Jo about the trouble I’d get into. It’s changed how my grandfather looks at me. Would it change how Jo sees me now?
I settle for the “It’s a long story” response. And Jo nods understandingly.
“You’ll have to tell me it another day then,” she says, putting up her hands as she shrugs. “I’m completely free tomorrow, after 10am.”
“What about school?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re the kind to skip.”
She laughs, “No! I’m homeschooled; I usually finish all my studies before ten. Then, if it’s my turn, I go to help out at my Aunt March’s house. She’s old and hasn’t needed to be placed in a home yet.”
“Hmm, well. I’ll have to check out what my schedule is with my tutor. If he says it’s alright, I’ll call you. How’s that?”
While saying this, I pull out my phone. Jo does the same, and I’m shocked. Her phone looks ancient.
“How is that flip-phone even working?” I ask, laughing.
“It works fine!” she protests, but is smiling so I don’t think she’s offended. “And it was the only one I could afford, with my allowance from Aunt March. It’s just a minute phone.”
My mind starts ticking and I take the phone from her, intending to put my number in. But then, I change my mind, and slip it in my pocket.
“I’ll call you on this,” I say, handing her my iPhone, and gently tapping her mouth closed before she can protest. “You won’t use up your minutes and you can give it back to me tomorrow.”
“Gramps won’t be mad at you for this?” she asks, raising a perfect eyebrow at me.
“Just take it,” I reply, pushing her hands to her chest. “It won’t be missed too much. I barely know anyone here to receive texts yet.”
Jo sighs and nods, “Okay. I’ll be waiting for your call. Drive safe, Laurie.”
I grin and walk out the door as she holds it open. Maybe coming here isn’t so bad after all.
