Free Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn Page A

too." Nancy paused and then she said, 'Are we actually having a conversation that doesn't involve yelling or cursing?"
    "Let's not push it," I said.
    "Right," Nancy said. "You've always wanted to meet your biological father. Well, I have a lot of misgivings about this, but if you are ready, then I am willing. His wife passed away last year and he has been in touch with Sid and me and would like to have you visit, to get to know you. What do you think about that?"
    "Sure," I mumbled. To Gingerbread, I telepathed, "YEAH!"
    My real-dad was a widower. Tragedy about to be
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    remedied by the arrival of one Cyd Charisse, hellion daughter extraordinaire.
    Nancy said, "Maybe some time in New York will help you not think about that boy , the surf stalker."
    "It's slacker, Mom, not stalker," I said.
    "Right," Nancy said. "That boy." She waited, I guess thinking I might give her information as to whether that boy and I had managed to communicate during my Alcatraz incarceration. She waited.
    "Well, do you want to go?" Nancy said. "I could come with you if you want."
    My adventure in New York with Frank real-dad, and did I want Nancy trotting along? Hell, no!
    "No, thank you," I said.
    Even prisoners know how to be polite.
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    Nineteen
    I was so nervous to meet Frank real-dad again that I actually broke out into a sweat when the plane landed in New York. Even Gingerbread was nervous. I could practically feel her bouncing on my lap.
    'Aren't you a little old for dolls?" this creepmeister executive man sitting next to me in first class said. The whole flight he had been pretending not to stare at Gingerbread, who had been sitting on my black tights, right below my short skirt, during the flight.
    "Aren't you?" I said back.
    Creepmeister executive man did not try to help me with my luggage in the overhead bin.
    Since I didn't have a star student report card or Homecoming Queen tiara to impress Frank real-dad, I had brought him real gingerbread that I had baked myself, without Leila's help. It was kind of crumbly but it smelled ginger 'n' cloves yumster under the red bowtie-wrapped tinfoil. Gingerbread-doll was not upset by my baking efforts; it wasn't like when you go to a farm for the day and make friends with cows that you know will be steak one day. She understood the difference between namesake and food chain.
    So there I was, strolling into the arrival area at the airport, carrying Gingerbread-doll and hoping gingerbread-cake would stay together until I could present it to Frank real-dad, but of course I tripped on the strings which had
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    come loose on my four-inch platform combat boots, and splat I went. Smoosh went gingerbread-cake, flying went Gingerbread-doll, mortificado went Cyd Charisse's Pieces. I saw my usually chalk-white face in a mirror as I stood up, and it was the color of a tomato.
    "You Cyd?" said this guy who sounded like John Travolta. He extended his hand to my shoulder to steady me. His other hand was carrying a sign with my name on it. He was like New York Knicks tall with Puerto Rican honey eyes and luscious cinnamon skin. A certain boy whose name rhymes with chimp, limp, and gimp was the farthest Blank from my mind. Let me just say, even if my name hadn't been Cyd, I'd have been like, "You betcha!"
    "How did you know that?" I asked as I scrambled to pick up Gingerbread.
    He had this insane-sexy New York accent. You could practically hear him saying, "yo!" and "youz guys" every other beat. He said, "You look just like Frank. No way you could be anyone besides his niece. He sent me here to pick you up. I'm Luis. I work for Frank. We'll be seeing a lot of each other these next couple weeks."
    "His niece?" I said. I picked up gingerbread-cake and tossed it in the trash.
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    Twenty
    Maybe Frank suspected our weird resemblance, and that's why he didn't come pick me up at the airport himself. Maybe he was scared to see me, scared that he would fall totally in love with his new daughter and never be able to send