Jack was a good head taller than his puny little sister—he said, “OK, we’ll let Bindy decide. Bindy, do you want to watch the end of this dumb movie or….”
“It’s not dumb,” Bindy answered. “I was in that movie.”
There she goes again, Jack thought. “You mean you were into the movie,” he said sarcastically. “Like if you go, ‘I’m really into stock-car racing.’ Or ‘I’m really into extreme sports.’ Or ‘I’m really into potato chips.’”
Bindy shook her head. “I mean I was in the movie. I acted in it. I didn’t have the leading role, but I was the cute little girl next door.”
Staring at the screen, Ashley asked, “You mean Amanda? That was you? No way.”
“Amanda’s a redhead,” Jack protested.
Scornfully, Bindy slapped her book onto her bed. “Well, duh! You’ve heard of hair dye, haven’t you? I told the set’s hairdresser not to make me so red, but she wouldn’t listen because she said red was what the script called for, so red I would be. I told her it made me look like a pumpkin head. She got all mad when I said that, and then told me I didn’t know anything about the business, and the only words I should speak in her presence were the lines from my script. What a grouch!” Pointing a ring-clad finger, Bindy said, “See, there I am—right there. I just walked into Melissa’s kitchen. That’s me.”
Jack studied the girl on the small screen. If he squinted, maybe that girl did look a little bit like Bindy, but she was a lot younger and she was—thin!
“Oh, come on. You’re just teasing…,” Ashley began.
“No. It’s me. I swear!” Flopping onto her stomach, Bindy crossed her ankles and propped her chin in her hand. Then, amazingly, she began to recite the lines at the same time the girl in the movie was saying them. Word for word, without hesitation, her lips moved in perfect sync with the dialogue on the screen. Even if she was faking it, Jack had to give her credit for a good memory.
When Bindy finished, she shot them a triumphant look. Ashley stared at her. “So that really was you!”
“Of course,” Bindy said matter-of-factly. “I don’t lie. OK, now it’s over. Here come the credits. There’s my name—Belinda Taylor—that’s me.”
“But your name’s Bindy Callister,” Jack broke in.
Rolling her eyes, Bindy sighed loudly. “Bindy is short for Belinda. And my name used to be Taylor until I was adopted. Before my real mother died.”
“Oh,” Ashley murmured. “I’m sorry….”
“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago, and I don’t like to talk about it.” Jerking her fingers through her thin hair, Bindy seemed to shift gears. “So anyway, I acted in seven TV commercials and one sitcom, and I had parts in two movies. The first movie was just a small part, but in Melissa’s Dream my role was a lot bigger.”
“Wow!” Ashley blurted. “That is way cool. Tell us about it. Tell us everything. Did you meet famous stars? What were they—”
Throwing up her hand like a traffic cop, Bindy demanded, “Wait! First things first. Is there anything to eat in this room? ’Cause I’m starved. If I’m going to do any talking, I need something to eat. And a can of something to drink—anything but diet. I hate diet soda.”
“There’s a candy machine at the end of the hall,” Jack told her. “I have some change.”
“So get me two Butterfingers and a can of orange soda,” Bindy ordered. “Thanks, Jack-o. You’re a real pal.”
CHAPTER TWO
Sheesh! She was so bossy! Jack hurried down the hall to the candy machine, halfway eager to hear Bindy’s story, but three-fourths of the way doubting that whatever she told them would be true. After all, Bindy was a known liar.
The evening Bindy had arrived at the Landon home, Jack had overheard his parents talking about the reason she’d been placed into temporary foster care. Olivia and Steven were at the kitchen table in terrycloth robes, sipping mugs of hot tea, their voices barely above whispers as they discussed Bindy’s situation. Jack had hung back in the hallway, just until they were finished talking. It wasn’t exactly eavesdropping, he’d told himself. He just didn’t want to interrupt.
“…Bindy’s brother Cole,” Olivia was telling Steven. “According to Ms. Lopez, the tension between Bindy and Cole goes way back. Apparently he’s some kind of a football star.”
“More like a superstar,” Steven countered. “Ms. Lopez told me Cole has already been offered full scholarships from colleges all around the country.”
“Did you know that after Bindy’s accusation, the football coach and his teachers all wrote letters of support for Cole, saying he was an honest and decent kid who couldn’t possibly do such a thing? Ms. Lopez said no one came forward to defend Bindy.”
When he craned his neck ever so slightly, Jack could catch a glimpse of his father. Steven shook his head and took another sip from his mug. “So, Bindy’s adoptive parents believe Cole is telling the truth and Bindy is flat out lying. How sad for Bindy.”
“I know. Still, it’s possible she invented the whole thing, Steven. Ms. Lopez says Bindy comes up with one fantastic story after another. Even Ms. Lopez isn’t sure how much of what Bindy says is true.”
Steven set down his mug. “Having said that, it’s still no excuse for what the parents are doing. I mean, how could anyone try to get rid of their own child, even if she’s adopted?” Suddenly, his head jerked up and he looked toward where Jack was standing. “Wait a minute—Jack! Why are you lurking out there in the hall?”
Shuffling his feet, Jack emerged from the shadows. For the next ten minutes, his parents gave him a verbal going-over. Jack should never listen in on their conversation. They respected Jack’s privacy, and he should do the same for them. They told him to keep everything he’d heard to himself because Bindy’s private affairs were just that—her own private affairs. Since the social workers and the therapists didn’t know what to make of Bindy’s story, Jack shouldn’t judge it, either. Instead he should give Bindy the benefit of the doubt.
He was not to tell any of this to Ashley. Finally, if Bindy wanted to share her own story with Jack, that was fine, but he should in no way ask Bindy about her court case. Let her come to you, was how his mom had put it.
Now, when Jack returned to the girls’ motel room, he found his sister working Bindy’s hair into stubby braids. Smiling brightly, Bindy held out her hand for the Butterfingers.
“Here,” Jack told her. “Catch!”
She caught one neatly and tore off the wrapper, then took a big bite. With her mouth full, she said, “Ashley’s been asking questions about my so-called career, but I told her to wait until you got back. That way I can double my audience, ha ha.” Pulling herself into a seated position, she proceeded to tell them about her life B.C.—before the Callisters.
She could hardly remember her father. He was killed in a speedboat accident off the coast of California when she was only three.
Back then, Bindy was cute—everyone said so—with
