Peggy Henderson Adventures 4-Book Bundle. Gina McMurchy-Barber
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at me for a few moments with a blank look and then his face suddenly lit up.
“That’s a brilliant idea. I always imagined myself a Jacques Cousteau kind of guy.”
“You know about him?”
“What, Cousteau? Well, duh. He’s only like the father of scuba diving and underwater exploration.”
“Yup, good old Jack.”
“Jacques, you mean.”
“Right. So anyway, are you sure your mom will let you?”
“Peggy, one of the few benefits of having divorced parents is when one says no, you can almost always count on the other saying yes.”
“Great. I’m going to sign up after school at the Reef Dive Shop.”
“I thought you were doing something with your Great Aunt Beatrix today.” Shoot, I’d forgotten about that.
“Hey, TB. Help me out here. Phone my house and tell my aunt that you need me to come over so we can get started on that important school project that’s due next Friday.”
“What important school project?” he said with panic in his eyes.
“There is no project dough-head. I just want you to say that so when I walk in the house and Aunt Beatrix gives me your message she won’t think anything when I tell her I can’t spend time with her today.”
“Sorry, Peggy. I don’t like lying — especially to adults. From my experience I always get caught or end up making matters worse. You’ll have to get out of this one on your own.” If he hadn’t been my best friend I’d have given him a raspberry somewhere embarrassing.
When I got home, there she was — Queen Bee-atrix — in her hat and waiting to go out. “Peggy, you’re slouching, stand up straight, dear.” I did everything to keep myself from groaning out loud. “So, where shall we wander today, dear? Mr. Grimbal suggested we take a stroll through Heron Park and have a look at the stone carvings — petroglyphs, I think he called them. It sounds delightfully primitive.” I sighed dramatically. “What? Doesn’t that sound like a good plan to you?”
“Oh, it’s not that, Aunt Beatrix. I definitely want to go see the petroglyphs with you. I’m just trying to figure out how I can do that and get my assignment done for school.”
“Assignment for school?”
“Yah, my friend TB and I have to make a diorama by tomorrow of Captain Vancouver’s voyage along the Pacific Coast.” There it was again, the perfect lie rolling effortlessly off my tongue. “Oh well, never mind, I’ll just call TB and tell him I can’t do it …”
“You’ll do no such thing. Getting homework assignments completed is absolutely paramount, Peggy. If there is anything I can teach you, it’s to take your work seriously and live up to your commitments. Now you get to it right now, do you hear young lady?” I nodded as though I was completely disappointed and about to object.
It didn’t take me long to scoot out the door, hop on my bike, and make my way towards the dive shop. I had mom sign the permission sheet that morning and write out a cheque to pay for the lessons. I pedalled as fast I could up the steep hill towards Ocean Park. I was hot when I got there but the moment I walked inside the dive shop I got goose bumps. Dangling from hooks were wet suits, masks, snorkels, and other gear. There was a guy there trying on flippers too.
“Man, these are perfect. I’m going to whiz around like a dolphin in these,” he said to the clerk. Just then she caught sight of me.
“Here to sign up for lessons?”
I nodded and held out the form and cheque.
“Great, I’ll just add your name to our list. We have a new set of lessons starting next week. But if you’re eager you can start tomorrow — we still have a few spots open in our four o’clock class.” My heart leapt.
“The sooner the better,” I sang out. “Put my name on the list for sure.” Not only was I going to start scuba diving lessons in less than twenty-four hours, I had the perfect excuse for no longer being able to spend time entertaining Aunt Beatrix after school.
When I rode into the yard I could tell it was nearly dinnertime from all the clanging going on in the kitchen. Uncle Stewart was watering the plants.
“Hi Uncle Stu, what’s up?”
“Oh, your Aunt Margaret for one thing,” he whispered. “She’s wound up tight as a top. Sure would’ve helped if you’d taken Aunt Beatrix out.”
“But I had to —” I started to explain, but he gave me the hush signal.
“Save it, Pegs. I’m just saying it would have been helpful.” I had a brief moment of feeling guilty.
“I could teach you how to tie some sailor’s knots, Aunt Beatrix,” I said after supper. My gesture was really a peace offering to Aunt Margaret. I held out the silky strands I used for practicing my sailor’s knot tying, but the old bat shook her head.
“No, thank you.”
“Okay, how about we play Crazy Eights?” That time she sighed and gave me one of those faint smiles that really meant don’t bother me, kid. All right, I thought, how about if I let you nag me about my hair some more and point out all my other weaknesses? “Any chance you’d like to teach me something?” I offered in a final attempt. I thought my efforts had been admirable, and everyone had seen me try. Fortunately she’d turned down all my ideas and I was about to split for the living room to watch TV. That’s when Aunt Beatrix caught me by the arm.
“Teach you something? Now there’s an idea!” I could tell she’d just remembered I was her improvement project. “There is something I can teach you — something every young lady should know how to do.” She turned to Aunt Margaret. “Now Margaret dear, I don’t want you to fret — though I know you have good reason to — but I’d like to teach this child the value of your precious china set. She will start by learning how to set the table properly.” I watched Aunt Margaret’s eyes pop out.
“Oh, Aunt Beatrix, do you think —”
“No, no. It will be fine dear. I will see to it.”
Oh no, what did I get myself into?
For the next hour Great Aunt Beatrix taught me the finer details of how to set the table — informally for those frequent occasions when it’s just close friends and family; then formally for the times when I might want to impress my husband’s boss — yah right; and then for those special once-in-a-lifetime events when someone important — like, let’s say Her Royal Highness, Queen of England — should decide to drop in and dine with me. Aunt Beatrix was on a roll and I zoned in and out until Mom rescued me.
“Bedtime, Peggy. You’ve got school in the morning.” I leapt off the sofa and was about to make a run for it.
“Quite right, young lady. Just let me conclude this lesson by saying that setting an elegant table is more than it appears. It’s symbolic that even in your day-to-day existence it’s possible to be careful, orderly, gracious, and temperate. And as you take more care in the smallest details of your life you’ll find when the going gets tough, you’ll be able to stay the course, face up to your problems with courage, and remain honest and true. If nothing else, remember it’s your moment-by-moment conduct that will determine the success of your life. So always put your best foot forward, Peggy. Give your all to everything you do and never run away from your problems.” Before she could add another word I scrambled up the stairs to get into my pj’s and brush my teeth.
By the time I got back to the living room Mom had my bed made up on the sofa.
“That was sweet of you, Peggy. Aunt Beatrix always feels so good when she thinks she’s been useful.” I put my hands to my neck and pretended to choke myself. Mom laughed. “Huh, you think that was tough. That’s nothing. Aunt Margaret and I have a whole lifetime