swig of cola. She looked at the woman who looked like her mother and smiled.
"Thanks for what you did the other day. That was so cool."
"Don't mention it."
"Won't you get in trouble doing stuff like that?"
"Probably. But that's OK. I think young people deserve a break once in a while."
Michelle picked up the snow globe, held it up to the light, and then returned it to the table.
"Looks like it's snowing in New York."
"It's a present from my friend April. It's my birthday today."
"What a coincidence," Michelle said. "I turned forty-nine today."
"No way."
"Yes way."
Shelly swallowed another bite of tuna and rye and scrutinized the woman in the blue dress.
Let me get this straight, lady. You look like my mom, you're the same age as my mom, you have her maiden name, and now you have my birthday?
Shelly scanned the faces of twenty or so students and faculty who sat at other tables, but she didn't see any telltale smiles. If this were a joke or a new episode of Candid Camera , the clues were not obvious. Still, this encounter was beginning to get weird.
She finished her sandwich, took another sip, and started to gather her things when she noticed that she could not find the card from April. She flipped through the pages of Writers Market but found nothing but listings of agents and publishers.
"Looking for this?" Michelle asked. "I found it on the ground. It must have fallen to the side when I plopped my lunch on the table."
Michelle handed Shelly the envelope containing the card and returned to her meal.
"Thanks," Shelly said.
"Who's Irene?" Michelle asked.
My evil twin.
"That would be me," Shelly said. She tucked the envelope inside the book. "Irene is my middle name. I loathe it and April knows it. She calls me Irene to get under my skin."
"That's what friends are for," Michelle said cheerily. "I'm sure she means well. And Irene's not such a bad name. I'm sure it will grow on you."
"Speak for yourself. It makes me think of old ladies with thick ankles who sell cosmetics door to door."
Michelle laughed.
Shelly smiled at the sight. Perhaps this wasn't so weird, after all.
"I guess it's not that bad," Shelly said. She got up from the table and picked up her belongings. "But I do wish my parents had been more creative. Anyway, I should probably get going or I'll be late for class. It was nice seeing you again, Miss Jennings."
"You too."
Shelly began to walk away. But she stopped when the principal approached the table from the other side and addressed the attendance secretary by name.
"Hello, Michelle. I've been looking for you," Wayne Dennison said. "There's a project that needs your attention and I want you to start on it as soon as possible. We have to get a couple of hundred letters in the mail before the end of the day. We have a chance to raise some funds for the speech and debate teams. Marsha can fill you in."
"I'll get right on it," she said. "I'm just finishing up."
"Wonderful. I'll see you back at the office."
Dennison did not acknowledge Shelly. He instead spun around and walked out of the courtyard the way he came in, stopping only to greet a social studies teacher on his way out.
Shelly turned to face her new acquaintance. She watched her take another bite of Hungarian goulash, or whatever occupied her plate, and put her silverware and glass on her tray before she stepped away from the table and glanced in her direction.
"You're still here?" Miss Jennings asked. "I thought you went to class."
Shelly stared at the woman as if in a daze and addressed her in a barely audible voice.
"Your name is Michelle ?"
Michelle smiled and nodded.
CHAPTER 13: MICHELLE
Tuesday, September 18, 1979
Michelle watched raindrops collect on a window in the faculty lounge as she pondered eight days of silence. Shelly Preston had not said a single word to her since their enlightening lunch the previous week. She had not even said hello. She clearly wanted nothing to do with the lady who looked
"Thanks for what you did the other day. That was so cool."
"Don't mention it."
"Won't you get in trouble doing stuff like that?"
"Probably. But that's OK. I think young people deserve a break once in a while."
Michelle picked up the snow globe, held it up to the light, and then returned it to the table.
"Looks like it's snowing in New York."
"It's a present from my friend April. It's my birthday today."
"What a coincidence," Michelle said. "I turned forty-nine today."
"No way."
"Yes way."
Shelly swallowed another bite of tuna and rye and scrutinized the woman in the blue dress.
Let me get this straight, lady. You look like my mom, you're the same age as my mom, you have her maiden name, and now you have my birthday?
Shelly scanned the faces of twenty or so students and faculty who sat at other tables, but she didn't see any telltale smiles. If this were a joke or a new episode of Candid Camera , the clues were not obvious. Still, this encounter was beginning to get weird.
She finished her sandwich, took another sip, and started to gather her things when she noticed that she could not find the card from April. She flipped through the pages of Writers Market but found nothing but listings of agents and publishers.
"Looking for this?" Michelle asked. "I found it on the ground. It must have fallen to the side when I plopped my lunch on the table."
Michelle handed Shelly the envelope containing the card and returned to her meal.
"Thanks," Shelly said.
"Who's Irene?" Michelle asked.
My evil twin.
"That would be me," Shelly said. She tucked the envelope inside the book. "Irene is my middle name. I loathe it and April knows it. She calls me Irene to get under my skin."
"That's what friends are for," Michelle said cheerily. "I'm sure she means well. And Irene's not such a bad name. I'm sure it will grow on you."
"Speak for yourself. It makes me think of old ladies with thick ankles who sell cosmetics door to door."
Michelle laughed.
Shelly smiled at the sight. Perhaps this wasn't so weird, after all.
"I guess it's not that bad," Shelly said. She got up from the table and picked up her belongings. "But I do wish my parents had been more creative. Anyway, I should probably get going or I'll be late for class. It was nice seeing you again, Miss Jennings."
"You too."
Shelly began to walk away. But she stopped when the principal approached the table from the other side and addressed the attendance secretary by name.
"Hello, Michelle. I've been looking for you," Wayne Dennison said. "There's a project that needs your attention and I want you to start on it as soon as possible. We have to get a couple of hundred letters in the mail before the end of the day. We have a chance to raise some funds for the speech and debate teams. Marsha can fill you in."
"I'll get right on it," she said. "I'm just finishing up."
"Wonderful. I'll see you back at the office."
Dennison did not acknowledge Shelly. He instead spun around and walked out of the courtyard the way he came in, stopping only to greet a social studies teacher on his way out.
Shelly turned to face her new acquaintance. She watched her take another bite of Hungarian goulash, or whatever occupied her plate, and put her silverware and glass on her tray before she stepped away from the table and glanced in her direction.
"You're still here?" Miss Jennings asked. "I thought you went to class."
Shelly stared at the woman as if in a daze and addressed her in a barely audible voice.
"Your name is Michelle ?"
Michelle smiled and nodded.
CHAPTER 13: MICHELLE
Tuesday, September 18, 1979
Michelle watched raindrops collect on a window in the faculty lounge as she pondered eight days of silence. Shelly Preston had not said a single word to her since their enlightening lunch the previous week. She had not even said hello. She clearly wanted nothing to do with the lady who looked
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