Thursday, June 29, 1978
Dear Diary,
I spent most of today in gleeful anticipation. It feels like a million years ago now.
I was distracted all through babysitting. Penny kept having to shout to get my attention. When Mr. O’Sullivan finally got home, a few minutes earlier than usual, I hugged the kids goodbye and sped out the door.
I wanted to run home and change so I could beat Tammy to the coffee shop. I knew what I wanted to say to her, but it’d be easier if I was sitting down when she arrived. I needed time to breathe, or I’d get flustered and blush and probably forget everything I’d practiced in my head.
My hands trembled, heavy with a mix of eagerness and nerves, as I pushed open our front door. I expected Mom to be home alone, since Peter was working Tammy’s usual shift, but I’d barely cracked open the front door before I heard a voice floating out from the living room.
At first I thought Mom was watching TV, but it was too early for The Waltons. Besides, the voice was extremely familiar.
“Ah, that must be your daughter now,” the voice said. My breath caught. “Sharon, how lovely to meet you at last!”
A middle-aged woman with perfectly teased brown hair was sitting on the couch next to my mother, holding a lipstick-stained coffee mug and smiling up at me.
I stepped inside fast and locked the door behind me, pressing my back against it and fervently praying for Tammy not to come home.
I’d never seen Aunt Mandy before, but I was as certain it was her as I had been the morning Tammy first showed up at my door. Some people are impossible to mistake.
I had to get rid of her, and fast. If Tammy saw her, she’d be terrified.
But she was probably already at the coffee shop. Right? Please, God, let Tammy be at the coffee shop.
Except—what if she wanted to change clothes first, too? Besides, what was her aunt doing here, talking to my mother?
Wait. Wait. Oh, God.
What if Aunt Mandy already told Mom?
Oh, God, oh, God, oh God…
“Sharon, dear, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Aunt Mandy set her mug on the coffee table next to a Tupperware dish and stood, smoothing out her spotless blue dress. Mom didn’t get up, but she was beaming, looking way too cheerful for someone sitting next to one of the worst human beings on the planet.
No—no, that was a good thing. If Mom was smiling, Tammy’s aunt must not have told her anything significant. Yet.
Aunt Mandy held out her hand, beckoning to me, her smile wide and brittle. “I was just visiting with your mother. Come, sit with us and have a treat.”
“Tammy’s aunt was kind enough to bring over some delicious homemade cookies.” Mom brushed crumbs off her fingers and reached for the Tupperware dish. “I told her we’d thought Tammy didn’t have any other family, but she says the two of you have spoken before?”
“I, ah…”
I was trapped.
There was nothing I could say to both of them together. If Peter were here, or Tammy, they’d know how to handle this. They’d have some smooth lie ready to go, but I was too terrified to speak.
No. I couldn’t think that way. Aunt Mandy could do a lot more damage to Peter and Tammy than she could to me. I had to be the one to fix this, somehow.
“I was telling your mother how much we’ve appreciated your positive influence on my niece.” Aunt Mandy’s smile was thick and saccharine. “You’re such a sweet Christian girl, and we know how much you wanted to help your pen pal. Unfortunately I fear her situation is, well…beyond the help of lay people such as ourselves.”
Mom’s smile faded as she turned to Aunt Mandy. “The poor girl. You think the situation’s that bad?”
Mom wouldn’t call Tammy a “poor girl” if she knew the truth. She wouldn’t act sympathetic—just outraged. Aunt Mandy couldn’t have told her the