Beatrice sat in the backseat dressed in her Switzerland costume. Clara went to Goodwill and found matching windbreaker pants and jacket she thought could pass off as a ski outfit. It was pink, Beatrice’s favorite color. She went to three other thrift stores until she stumbled upon an old diving mask and thought she could cut off the rubber nose part. It could work—makeshift ski goggles—propped atop her sister’s head. They already had winter gear including boots, toboggans, scarves and gloves.
Clara curled Beatrice’s hair with her curling iron over at Ms. Debbie’s house, Beatrice looking adorable with the ringlets poking out from under the cap on her head. Clara even discovered an old croquet set in the shed and used two mallets as ski poles. She unscrewed the ends and attached paper discs she cut out of poster board. With Beatrice’s blond hair and blue eyes, she looked the perfect picture of a Swiss skier.
Evan found them immediately when they entered the auditorium.
“Clara, I want to introduce you to my parents,” he said when he approached her. “They’ve been wanting to meet you ever since I told them we’re dating.”
“Dating,” Beatrice echoed, and giggled. Evan pinched her lightly on her upper arm.
“Hey Bea,” he said. “I like your costume.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly. Clara looked at her perplexed. Beatrice was never shy about anything.
“So may I?” Evan asked addressing Clara.
Clara’s heartbeat ramped up. She knew she’d have to meet them eventually.
“They don’t know anything about my situation, do they?” she murmured.
“No,” he said. “God Clara, I would never say a word.”
Clara was relieved and let him lead her to his parents, who were sitting in the third row. Ms. Debbie went to find seats, and Beatrice disappeared out the side entrance of the auditorium.
“Oh, I forgot to wish her luck!” Clara said watching as the door closed behind Beatrice.
“She knows you meant to wish her luck,” Evan said, taking her hand. Clara pulled away.
“No,” she said.
“Why?” Evan asked.
Clara blushed. “I just don’t want to hold your hand when I meet your parents. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” Evan replied, but he didn’t understand.
Two very attractive people with very straight teeth and very proper manners said hello to Clara and extended their hands to her, each in turn. They asked her to join them, but she told them she was sitting with her grandmother. She glanced at Evan who gave her an encouraging wink. She hated lying, and she especially hated the idea of lying to her boyfriend’s parents whom she just met. She hoped they wouldn’t ask about her parents, but they did.
“Did your parents come tonight, Clara?” Mrs. Morningstar asked.
“Um, well my parents are divorced,” Clara replied. She fidgeted with her fingers.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Morningstar said. She was clearly embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Clara replied. “And my mom isn’t feeling well. So that’s why I came with Grandmom.” She was certain Evan’s mom could hear straight through her lies.
“Well, tell your mother I hope she feels better. Perhaps I’ll get to meet her someday?” she asked.
Clara smiled. “Mmhmm,” was all she could say.
“And you’re a junior, Clara?” Mr. Morningstar asked.
“Yes sir,” Clara replied. She really didn’t want to talk to Evan’s father, fearing he was silently scrutinizing her kicked lateral. A part of her wanted to scream at him, “Oh just say it already! Tell me I need braces!” but she didn’t.
“And Evan says you have a job?” he asked. Clara wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
“I think that’s fantastic. Just fantastic,” Mr. Morningstar said. “Kids need to work. It’s good for you, not relying on your parents to buy you every single thing you want.”
Clara grinned. The man had no idea.
“And I bet you are one responsible lady with your money, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Okay Dad,” Evan groaned.
“Yes sir, I am,” Clara replied enthusiastically. She knew she was being a smartass and didn’t care. “I even help with the bills,” she said and watched Mr. Morningstar’s face light up.
“My God, what a wonderful, responsible girl!” he cried, and Clara wanted to give him a kicked lateral.
Clara said goodbye and started walking off. She heard Mrs. Morningstar say, “Oh, I like her, Evan. So much better than that Amy girl,” and Evan reply, “Mom, will you stop please?”
Beatrice was the best soloist of anyone on stage. She convinced Clara that everyone in the audience wanted to apply for citizenship and move to Switzerland immediately after listening to her song. Her little voice rang true, clear and strong, as she rode the up-down melody. Clara later joked that Beatrice sang about the three C’s: Celts, concordance democracy, and cash. That about summed up Swiss culture in Clara’s opinion, and she tried hard not to laugh when Beatrice mimed slalom skiing down a hill at the end of her solo. The audience loved it, a few in the crowd even jumping to their feet to demand an encore. Clara never felt so proud of her little sister.
“That was your sister?” Mrs. Morningstar asked Clara after the play. She looked at Beatrice and grinned. “You’ve got a singing career on your hands. Did you know that?”
Beatrice smiled widely. “That’s exactly what my teacher said!”
“Well, your sister and grandmother must be so proud,” Mrs. Morningstar went on.
Beatrice furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to reply.
“Wasn’t she great Grandmom?” Clara asked Ms. Debbie as she put an arm around Beatrice, squeezing her hard. Beatrice looked up at her, Clara’s eyes pleading, and she finally understood.
“The best!” Ms. Debbie replied. “God, I have the most talented, the most beautiful, the most imaginative granddaughters in the world!”
Clara tried hard to keep from rolling her eyes.
In the car ride home, Clara spoke. “Laying it on thick, huh?” she asked Ms. Debbie.
“Well, is there anything wrong with talking you up to Evan’s snobby parents?” Ms. Debbie asked.
Clara grinned. “They aren’t snobby. Maybe a little condescending, but not snobby.”
“Oh,” Ms. Debbie replied. “And here I thought that meant the same thing.”
Clara chuckled. “I’m sorry I lied. I felt I didn’t have a choice.”
“Clara, you can call me your grandmother anytime,” Ms. Debbie said.
Clara turned on to their street with Beatrice’s song playing in her heart.