Free Bingo Brown's Guide to Romance by Betsy Byars Page A

Wentworth’s not company. He’s over here all the time.”
    â€œThis is someone who is not over here ‘all the time.’ ”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œMelissa.”
    At that moment Bingo’s father came from the bedroom. He gave Bingo a smile even when he heard the drone of his razor in Bingo’s clenched fist.
    His mother backed away from Bingo and turned with a gesture of helplessness to her husband. “He says he’s having company.”
    Bingo shrugged. “Melissa.”
    â€œI’m sick of Melissa. I’m fed up with Melissa,” his mother hissed. Melissa was a good name to hiss, and his mother gave the name more s’s than necessary.
    â€œNow, now,” his father said soothingly.
    â€œI can’t help it. That girl is just ruining my life. You probably don’t remember this, but I almost had a terrible wreck going down Monroe the wrong way. All because of Melissa! And there’s another thing I didn’t tell you. Remember all those long-distance calls Bingo made to her in Bixby, Oklahoma? He’s never completely paid that back. And—”
    â€œNow, now,” his father said. “We can work this out.”
    â€œHow?” his mother asked.
    â€œLet’s bend our rules.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œBingo can have company this once without our being home. Melissa can come over and Jamie can be the chaperone.”
    â€œDad, I can’t baby-sit. I can’t be sitting here with a baby when Melissa comes over. Dad! Be reasonable!”
    Bingo’s words to his father—that last “Be reasonable!”—were a man-to-man appeal.
    After all, his father had once loved a woman. He knew what it was like. He knew that Bingo needed to stand alone, babyless. His hope died when his father gave his that’s-the-best-I-can-do shrug.
    â€œAll right, we won’t go,” Bingo’s mom said. “We’ll all just sit in the living room together. We’ll all visit with Melissa.”
    â€œI’ll baby-sit,” Bingo said.
    â€œI don’t want to force you,” his mother said. “I respect your right not to baby-sit when it interferes with your plans.”
    â€œI want to baby-sit.”
    This caused his mother’s frozen features to soften into a smile. “Bingo,” she said warmly.
    Bingo turned to go back into the bathroom.
    â€œOh, Bingo,” his father said.
    â€œYes?”
    He had a brief moment of hope that his father would give him a wink and say, “We’ll take Jamie with us, all right?”
    â€œYes, Dad?”
    â€œPut my razor back when you’re through with it.”
    â€œYes, Dad.”

Waiting for Melissa
    B INGO SAT ON THE sofa with Jamie on his lap. They were watching cartoons. The Saturday faces were as familiar and comforting to Bingo as his own, and yet now everything the characters did made him nervous.
    Also, he had to keep getting up, walking tensely to the window, and looking out. Bingo had been doing this for one hour, and still Melissa had not appeared.
    He lowered his new glasses and peered over them like an old man.
    â€œNot yet,” he commented. “I wonder where she could be. Maybe she’s not coming.”
    He returned to the sofa and began a sort of nervous commentary about the cartoons.
    â€œNow this is one of my favorites.”
    He barely knew what he was watching.
    â€œOh!” At last there was a moment of real recognition. “It is one of my favorites. See, that’s Wile E. Coyote and he’s sending off for a flying machine because he wants to drop a bomb on Road Runner. Road Runner’s the one you like so much that goes ‘beep-beep.’ Don’t put your fingers in my mouth, please, Jamie. I’m very nervous. Thank you.”
    Bingo got up and went to the window. Again, the sidewalk was empty; the street, deserted. It was like the street in a Western movie before the showdown, when townsfolk