Free Everybody's Daughter by Marsha Qualey Page A

you. I was glad to get away. I need to have friends who don’t work at the station. I’m so harassed by the end of the day. I don’t know what I’d do if the station staff members were the only people I knew up here.”
    Beamer laughed. Martin arched his eyebrows in question. What could she say? That she had snooped in his cabin and found a list of women and their phone numbers?
    “Martin,” she said slowly, “I can’t believe for a moment you don’t know plenty of people. And I bet most of them are a lot more entertaining than I am.
    He smiled. “Maybe. In different ways.”
    I bet, she thought.
    He sipped cocoa. “Andy doesn’t mind, does he?”
    “Mind what?”
    “Our spending time together. Going skiing, talking at the store.”
    “He’s an intelligent person, Martin. He knows people can do things together and just be, well, doing things.”
    “So he doesn’t mind?”
    “Actually, I don’t know if he knows. I have never felt the need to tell him how I spend all my time.” Beamer wiped Twinkie crumbs off her legs and rose. She had never even mentioned Martin to Andy. She began stowing the leftover food in his backpack.
    Martin rose. “From what I hear, you two have a pretty decent relationship.”
    Beamer shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about Andy with Martin.
    “In my opinion, though, sixteen is a little young to be so steady with someone; you miss out on a lot of fun.”
    “Your opinion doesn’t matter. And I’m almost seventeen.”
    “Pardon me.”
    “No steady relationships for you, Martin?”
    “I had one. It’s ancient history.”
    “Time for fun now?”
    “Time for lots of fun. And Merry, I thrive on fun. Is Andy fun?”
    “It’s not the first word that comes to mind.”
    “A couple of girls I’ve met know him. They say he’s called Saint Andrew. You have my sympathy.”
    “I don’t need it, Martin.”
    “Really? I hear otherwise.”
    “Martin, those clouds are moving in quickly. Let’s head back, okay?”
    He slipped on the backpack. “Why do I think you’re trying to quell my interest in Andy?”
    “Because you’re a smart boy. I’ll race you back to the store.”
    “Merry, dear, I can’t beat you.”
    “I know. That’s why I like to race against you. Come on, let’s go.”
    At a bend Beamer’s ski caught on the icy track and she fell. As Martin sprinted past he shouted, “If I win, I get a kiss.” Beamer stared at his back until he disappeared, then pushed up and resumed the race. She couldn’t let him win.
    Martin was waiting for her at the door of the store, when a huge slab of snow slid off the roof and fell on him. They were laughing as they stepped into the store. Beamer scooped snow out of Martin’s collar and threw it back out the door, then turned and saw Andy leaning against the counter. He had been talking with her father.
    “Welcome back,” said Mr. Flynn. “We were just debating whether to send out a search party.”
    “But decided it wasn’t worth it, right?” said Beamer. “This is a surprise,” she said to Andy. “A nice one.”
    Andy smiled, then offered his hand to Martin. “We haven’t met. Andy Reynolds.”
    “Martin Singer.” They shook hands.
    Mr. Flynn rose from his stool and walked around the counter. “Whatever he wants, you have my permission, Beamo. Meanwhile, watch the register for me. I have to go put some soup on the burner.”
    “You’re the Martin Singer with the program on KKKJ,” said Andy. “I can tell by the voice.”
    “I am.”
    “I like your show. Reminds me of radio back home, with the type of music and interviews you do.”
    “Thanks. Home is Boston, right?”
    “Was Boston.”
    “I spent two summers at Tufts University. I liked the city a lot.”
    Andy turned to Beamer. “I have to go get some things for my mother at a quilter’s at Cass Lake. I thought you might like to come along. I’ll buy you supper at Carla’s Cafe.”
    “No thanks, Andy. Algebra test tomorrow.