School let out early this year—some sort of flu that I was lucky enough to dodge. May 30th. Humbert had been living with us for nearly a week, yet we still didn't know anything about him besides the fact that he's a Professor with a funny French accent.

So, on that tropically humid Wednesday evening, Mother decided to invite him downstairs for dinner. She said it would be friendlier than just having me take it up to the study like I had been doing for the past five days. After having her cook practically the entire meal Mother told Louise to go home early, but paid her anyways 'cause she was in such a good mood. Humbert has that sort of effect on her. If you ask me, I'd say she has a big fat crush on him.

Further proving that, Mother went all out that night—full on Donna Reed mode. Turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, and for dessert she even made her "world famous" (or rather, State-Fair-famous) New England cranberry pie.

I laughed a little and told her it was like Thanksgiving instead of summer...but Mother didn't find that so amusing, and shot me a dirty look before telling me to go get Professor Humbert from upstairs. I could hear him tap-tap-tapping away on his old typewriter from all the way down the hall, and for a minute I was almost nervous to knock on the door.

Until finally, I did. In the matter of seconds he stopped writing, and turned to look at me. He face lit up the second he saw me, full of wonder as amazement. Even all the way back then, the whole thing felt...strange, to say the least. He took a few steps closer, and nervously, I took a few steps back.

"Uhh..." I began, forgetting why I'd come up there in the first place. "Dinner's ready."

"You want me to come down tonight?" he asked, in his smooth yet thick accent.

"Mother does,"

"And you? Don't you, as well?"

"Sure, why not." I replied with a quick shrug, before turning to walk back down the hall. Something about his words—or rather, the way he said them—made me uneasy, and it was sorta hard to shake that feeling as I hurried down the staircase.

Dinner was nice. Humbert was charming, Mother swooned. He told us about his life in Paris. Bragging alllll about becoming a Professor at just the age of twenty five, and how his father owned a big fancy hotel with indoor swimming pools and imported palm trees.

After awhile, I didn't feel so strange anymore. Besides, I was wearing a pretty nice dress that night (white chiffon, ivory lace, with a thin baby-pink ribbon wrapping the waistline) so I figured he was probably just admiring that.

Dinner was a hit, and everyone was happy by the end of it. Even Mother. As a matter of fact, it was the first time I'd seen her smile like that in what felt like forever.

~~*~~

Thursday was disgustingly hot. Worse than hot, it was humid. The type of humidity that makes you desperately crave a bottle of Coke, and your clothing cling right to your skin. Of course, that was the day that Mother decided it was my turn to hang the sopping wet laundry up on the clothesline outside.

I could feel eyes on me just about the entire time. At first I thought it was Mother monitoring my every move just to make sure I didn't start lounging on the grass, but when I finally glanced up, guess who I saw—that's right, Humbert. He stared down at me from the little window in the upstairs bathroom, his features faded in the flittering apple-green light that washed over the entire backyard.

Weird, I thought to myself, but once again brushed it off. It just...didn't make sense at the time. I thought maybe he was just sad that he didn't have kids of his own if something. So...when he stepped out onto the porch and took a seat on the old rocking chair, I eventually gave up on that stupid laundry and took a seat on the porch step just below him.

I didn't really know what to say. After all, what exactly are you supposed to say to a guy who looks like he reads Edgar Allan Poe for fun? I had no idea.

So, desperate for some sort of distraction from the awful silence that hung heavy between us, I began tossing little pebbles against a large curved piece of broken milk bottle that sat forgotten in the tall grass.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

"So, you know Ginny?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I couldn't help but let out a little snort of laughter, tossing another pebble as I replied. "The McCoo girl?" Ping. "Ginny McCoo? Oh, she's a fright. And mean. And lame. Nearly died of polio." Ping.

This time, Humbert was the one laughing. I laughed too a little, and it almost felt like the sort of conversation me and Daddy used to have.

To be honest, it all made me sort of sad. So, I quickly stood up and began taking down the laundry and tossing it into a big wicker basket. But on my way back inside, mother emerged through the backdoor with a great big Polaroid camera in her hands.

She turned to both me and Humbert, snapping a quick picture before either of us could get a word in.

Click.

~~*~~

I spent most of Friday afternoon at the lake with Rose, but caught Humbert practically drooling over me on my way out. Again.

This time, there was no denying it. And while it was embarrassing to admit...as much as I thought he was sorta a creep, I also sorta liked him, too. But eventually I shrugged it off, and when Rose mentioned that Jimmy Hayfield—Libby Hayfield's ultra cool, ultra cute older brother—was gonna be at the lake with her, I just about forgot he existed altogether.

We stopped to get orange cream ice cream bars at the drug store between 5th and Main, before walking the rusted old train tracks all the way down to Lake Winnisquam. Jimmy was there all right, but to my luck, so was some other girl. She was older, and taller, and had teeth that made her look like a horse anytime she laughed, or talked, or did much of anything at all—but she was a freshman in high school, and her chest was at least double the size of mine, so I suppose that made up for the whole horse thing to Jimmy.

Oh, who cares about him, anyways. He'll probably be bald by the time he's thirty—I can sorta see the sides of his hair thinning out already, and he's only seventeen. I thought to myself with a little satisfied smirk.

Once I wasn't feeling so blue anymore, I went over behind the trees so I could get changed into my bathing suit, Rose following close behind to help cover me with her beach towel.

"You've got to be kidding," Rose let out a snort of laughter, glancing back at Jimmy and whoever-she-was. "Who let her out of the stable?"

While I knew I should've told her to stop, I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Oh, come oh, Rose! After all, she didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah, except forget to wear her retainer."

I rolled my eyes at her playfully, stifling another laugh as I finished tying the knot to my kerchief top, "C'mon Rose...be nice, okay?"

"Sure, Dolly."

And she was. In fact, we had a terrific time. The entire day flew by in what felt like a total of thirty minutes, and by the time we had finally started heading home the sun was already setting. That's when I knew I'd really be in trouble.

I had hoped Humbert being here would create some sort of buffer between my mother'a anger and me. Sadly, there would be no such luck. From the very second I stepped in through the front door she was yelling loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, and wouldn't stop for what felt like forever. No matter how hard I begged.

Eventually I yelled right back, and pretty soon we were going back and fourth in one of our infamous screaming matches. And to make matters worse, Humbert heard everything. He must think I'm some sort of monster now.

Jeez, this terrific day sure did turn out to be a crappy one real quickly...