Free Sidesaddle by Bonnie Bryant Page A

teased.
    “Well, even a swell mom like you will be right about something every once in a while,” Stevie responded, going along with the joke.
    “And it is …?”
    “I need some new clothes.”
    “Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart. Some of those jeans of yours, with the seven or eight tears on each leg—well, they’re just barely getting broken in. You should be able to get two or three more years of wear out of them.”
    Stevie smiled, recognizing her own words. But thathad been before—long before—when she hadn’t realized what some good taste and a fresh look at her style could do for her.
    “Well, but I was wondering if we could go shopping this afternoon?”
    “You mean, like now?” Mrs. Lake asked, looking at the newspaper she was clearly intending to read.
    “If that’s okay with you,” Stevie said.
    “I will not miss an opportunity to take you shopping when you’re actually willing,” said Mrs. Lake. She stood up, grabbed the magazine section with the crossword puzzle in it, picked up her car keys and pocket-book, reached for a jacket, and said, “We’re off.”
    Stevie followed her out the door.
    The mall was a twenty-minute drive from their house. While they drove, Stevie tried to give her mother an idea of what she thought she needed: a couple of pairs of slacks, perhaps a skirt or two, some blouses that didn’t look like little-girl things or as if they were just for dress-up.
    “But they might need to be ironed,” said Mrs. Lake.
    “That’s okay,” Stevie said. “I don’t mind.”
    Mrs. Lake drove back into the lane she’d been driving in before Stevie had stunned her.
    “And I want some sweaters, too,” said Stevie.
    “You’ve got drawers full of sweatshirts,” said Mrs. Lake.
    “No, I mean like sweaters that go with the skirts andthe blouses, not just to keep warm, but, you know,
pretty
sweaters.”
    “You mean, you want, like,
clothes
,” said Mrs. Lake.
    “Right, that’s what I mean,” said Stevie.
    “Wow,” said Mrs. Lake, pulling into a parking place by the mall’s main department store.
    When they walked into the store, the first person they saw was Veronica diAngelo. Veronica rarely missed an opportunity to shop, but she usually did so at the more exclusive shops.
    “Oh, what are you doing here?” Veronica asked rather disdainfully.
    Before Stevie answered, the thought flashed through her head that Veronica was capable of asking the time of day disdainfully. Disdain was her principal attitude.
    “I’m looking for some new clothes,” Stevie answered. And then, in a moment of weakness inspired by the fact that Veronica was always impeccably dressed, she asked: “Any suggestions where I should shop?”
    “The Salvation Army Thrift Shop is on the other end of the mall, as you no doubt remember,” said Veronica.
    Stevie opened her mouth to make a withering retort, but she stopped herself. Hassling with Veronica was definitely not elegant, feminine, or charming.
    “Come on, Mom,” she said instead. “Let’s see what they have in the juniors’ department here.” The two of them headed for the escalator.
    “What an ill-behaved child that Veronica is,” said Mrs. Lake. “She always reminds me of her mother.”
    “Way to go, Mom!” Stevie agreed.
    In the sweater area Stevie and her mother ran into Carole and Lisa.
    “Hey!” Carole greeted her.
    “Stevie’s shopping!” said Lisa.
    “Well, I need some new clothes, but what are you two doing here?” Stevie asked. Happy as she was to see her friends, a small part of her had hoped to sort of surprise them with her new look. That was okay, though. They could be part of the change, and that would be just as much fun.
    “When Dad and I finished touring the battlefield, I had so much information for Lisa on horses in the battle that I called her, and it turned out the best place for us to meet was right here. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
    “Nothing at all,” said Stevie.
    “Um,” Mrs. Lake