everything he could. A little more than an hour later, he came back into my room to report to me.
"The doctor is obviously diagnosing your condition as central precocious puberty," he said. "It just means you're having what's normal too early in your life, so don't worry about getting cancer or a heart attack or anything like that," he told me.
/> I hadn't even thought of those things. Could that have happened to me?
"The medicine should work. However, it won't work overnight, Jordan. Don't expect everything to change right away. In fact, you might have some side effects first. I printed out the list so I'll watch for them with you. Did Mother tell you about that?"
I shook my head.
"She probably just didn't want to worry you," he said, and I wondered, so why was he telling me? Now I would worry.
He read my thoughts on the page of my sad and troubled face. "Don't be upset. Knowledge is never a bad thing and you can never get too much of it, Jordan. It's better people know everything they have to know about themselves. Remember, don't go blabbing everything I tell you to Mother, okay?"
"Okay." Even though our first oath had been broken. Ian didn't ask for another promise.
Then he looked at me in a strange way and said, "It's interesting, that this happened to you and not to me. Very interesting. The causes of this are not really nailed down yet. As I said, some think it has to do with all the growth hormones in meat and poultry today, but I just read that the problem is occurring even with people who don't consume meat and poultry heavily in their diets. Who knows? Maybe by doing my Sister Project and studying you and keeping track of it all. I'll come up with something the medical world will appreciate."
Ian was not quite fourteen and he was already thinking he could solve medical problems adults couldn't. Maybe he could. Maybe I was lucky to have a brother who was such a genius. I thought. I vowed to myself to keep his secrets and be grown-up about it.
My own thoughts wound around and back to what had happened between Mama and Daddy in our car on the way home from the supermarket. Ian knew so much. Perhaps he knew why Mama was so upset and why she cried about a floor manager. That still troubled me because it almost ruined my birthday and she was so upset. I asked him.
"The woman father hired for that shift was one of his old girlfriends," he said.
I had never thought of Daddy haying any other girlfriend besides Mama.
"When was she his girlfriend?"
"I'm not sure," Ian said. "I didn't overhear all that much, but I did hear that much after we got home last night. I think she was one of Mother's friends once, too. We have more important things to think about," he said, looking annoyed even talking about it. "I'm going to start arranging my things and deciding what I want to take with me to the cabin. You should do the same," he told me. He thought a moment. "Give me the book I gave you. I'll put it in one of my suitcases for you so it won't be forgotten or misplaced and you'll have it up at the lake. Also, we'll be sure Nancy doesn't tell Grandmother Emma about it. The more you read on your own, the easier it will be for me to conduct my research and investigation."
I wanted to talk more about Daddy's old girlfriend even if Ian didn't. Did I know her, too? Where was she his girlfriend? At one of his colleges? In high school? Why would Mama be upset about an old girlfriend? He didn't marry her.
I wondered if having precocious puberty would someday get me past the boundary of "adult talk." If it did, it might be worth having it. I thought.
I handed the book to Ian and he left to start his packing.
Ian always liked to be organized. His clothes in his closets were perfectly arranged, even by colors. Everything in his bathroom was neatly lined up. He hated when Nancy moved things and put things in drawers he had reserved for something else. Once he locked himself in his room on the day she was to clean it and when she came there, he wouldn't answer her 'mocking or open up. She complained to Grandmother Emma, who told him if he didn't let Nancy in to do her work, he would have to do his own. Nothing could have sounded better to him. He agreed and to everyone's surprise did his own vacuuming, polishing, and window washing. He looked after his own clothes, folded and even ironed his own pants. Ironically, instead of making Nancy happier to have less to do, it made her angrier and sadder. She never stopped complaining about it to Grandmother Emma. Daddy finally told him he had to let her do her work.
"We're guests in this house and we live by the rules Grandmother Emma has laid down," he told Ian. "She wants her house kept by a professional housekeeper.'
Reluctantly. Ian gave in and let Nancy take care of his room and his clothes again, but he never stopped finding fault with things she did. At least at the cabin, there would be no maid and he would be in control of his own things all the time.
At first I was worried about our being at the lake so long this year. Maybe because I was younger and couldn't do much on my own. I always grew bored there quickly. The things that interested Ian didn't interest me. Mama enjoyed just sitting around and reading. Daddy met some friends and went boating or went to the clubhouse to drink and talk. I was clearly told that the boat and the club would be no place for a little girl. The men would be worried about me, worried about using bad language in front of me. At least, that was what Ian said.
Our cabin was quite large in comparison to other cabins on the lake. It had two bedrooms upstairs and one master bedroom downstairs with a loft. We had a big television set, but we couldn't get all the channels, which meant Ian couldn't watch his science and nature shows. The cabin had a large fieldstone fireplace, which we had to use or wanted to use on what were surprisingly cool nights in the summer. One summer, it rained nearly the whole time we were there and everyone hated it so much, we left early.
I had to admit Grandmother Emma was right about the stench of cigar smoke. I could smell it in the walls, just as she claimed. One of the first things Mama did when we arrived was open all the windows. They had screens on them, but the mosquitoes and other bugs still managed to find ways to get inside and buzz around our heads, especially at night. Ian told Mama what to buy to keep them at bay. We had incense burning and sprays to use. Nothing worked completely and I usually had little bites on my legs and arms. The cabin wasn't my favorite place. Maybe I was more like Grandmother Emma than I cared to admit.
So it was with mixed emotions that I greeted the morning of our trip to the lake and the mountains. My mother was in my room before I got out of bed so she could help me start using the nasal spray. She said she would keep it all and take care of it with me every morning at the cabin. I hurried to wash and dress and check my things one more time before they were to be carried out to the car.
Ian, who seemed to have a knack for
visualizing things better than anyone, helped Daddy pack the car so that everything fit neatly. We had risen earlier than usual, which meant Grandmother Emma would not be at breakfast, but she came down from her bedroom just before we were about to leave.
"Mr. Pitts has seen to the electricity, gas, and phone being turned on again," she told Daddy. "He had his wife clean the place as best she could, but you know the quality of that work," she added with a scowl. "According to what Mr. Pitts tells me, the grounds have been cleaned up as well and the boat is at the dock. He says the engine has been maintained well. You'll let me know. I pay him far too much for all this as it is and I never know what he does and doesn't do anymore."
I remembered Joe Pitts, the man who looked after the property. He and his wife lived nearby in a house that looked like it might just topple over one day. Mr. Pins took care of a few of the cabins on the lake as well. As far as I knew, they had no children and lived there year-round because they couldn't afford to live anywhere else. Grandmother Emma once said he would starve on his Social Security. I thought he looked at least as old as she was, only his gray hair was still thick and curly. He had been a redhead once and still had freckles, which looked more brown than orange to me.
"I'll call you right away. Mother," Daddy said.