About the Book

Paperback
Ballantine Books
ISBN: 9780345479563

"We're approaching Cat in the Hat level chaos and no one's even had breakfast yet."

When the death of her father leaves her mother bereft and incapacitated, card shark Hallie Palmer returns home from college to raise Hallie's eight younger siblings. Hallie's older brother has a scholarship and a sensible major --- which translates to free tuition and desperately needed future income for the family. So it's up to Hallie to deal herself in as head of the chaotic household.

But even after the invasion of those well-meaning, casserole-carrying purveyors of comfort the local church ladies, Hallie's in a downward spiral. Thank goodness for old friends like Bernard and Gil, now proud parents, who keep Hallie afloat with good humor, brilliant organizational skills, and Judy Garland's most quotable quotes–not that life is entirely peaceful now that Bernard's wise, willful, and delightfully outrageous mother, Olivia, is back from Europe with a big (and shockingly young) surprise.

Through it all, Hallie discovers that life can indeed turn on a dime, and that every coin has two sides plus an edge. Just because beginner's luck doesn't always last forever doesn't mean you're out of the game.

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Author Biography

Laura Pedersen was born in Buffalo, New York (one of "God's frozen people") in 1965, at the height of The Folk Music Scare. (For details of misspent youth see essay at 'Is there a Nurse in the Church?'). After finishing high school in 1983, she moved to Manhattan and began working on The American Stock Exchange, a time when showing up combined with basic computation skills could be parlayed into a career. She chronicled these years in her first book, PLAY MONEY.

Having vowed to become anything but a journalist and with no conception of what a semicolon does, Laura spent the better part of the 1990s writing for The New York Times.

In 1994, President Clinton honored her as one of Ten Outstanding Young Americans. She has appeared on TV shows including “Oprah,” “Good Morning America,” “Primetime Live” and “David Letterman.”

In 2001, her first novel, GOING AWAY PARTY, won the Three Oaks Prize for Fiction and was published by Storyline Press. BEGINNER’S LUCK was published by Ballantine Books in 2003 and subsequently chosen for the Barnes & Noble "Discover Great New Writers" program, Borders "Original Voices," and as a featured alternate for The Literary Guild.

Pedersen's other novels include LAST CALL, HEART’S DESIRE, THE BIG SHUFFLE and BEST BET.

Laura lives in New York City, teaches reading and trades Yu-Gi-Oh! cards at the Booker T. Washington Learning Center in East Harlem, and is a member of the national literary association P.E.N. (poets, essayists and novelists).

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Critical Praise

“I loved this book! Settling in with Hallie is like hanging out with your favorite girlfriend --- the one who is smart, witty, and compassionate, and more to the point, always entertaining. Zany but never bizarre, endearing but never sentimental, warm but never boring, THE BIG SHUFFLE is a treat for readers from 18 to 80.”
--Barbara Samuel, author of MADAME MIRABOU’S SCHOOL OF LOVE

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Author Interview

Question: Where exactly is Cosgrove County?

Laura Pedersen:Well, how do you want to go there --- by car?

Q: Say that I want to drive from Buffalo, NY.

LP: That's easy. You get on the Thruway going west, drive through a chunk of Pennsylvania, and eventually you're in the northeast corner of Ohio. Get on Route 45 heading south. After about 20 minutes you'll see a dairy with a big plastic cow on top and a faded red barn behind it --- make a left at that corner. Go through the covered bridge --- it's a shame about the graffiti, but it does make you wonder whatever happened to those couples, especially the ones who declared True Luv 4ever. Drive about two more miles, until you see the old mill where they sell apple cider and maple syrup, and then bear left at the fork in the road. Only slow down because a lot of Amish folk live around there and they don't like to use those orange triangles on the back of their buggies. They also don't care to have their picture taken. But if the farm stand is open you definitely want to stop and buy a cherry pie --- absolutely delicious. Anyway, after approximately three more miles you'll come to the edge of town. There's the train station and then the park. If you make a right onto Millersport it will take you up to Cappy's place. Otherwise go left on Swan Street and that brings you to Main Street. It's about eight blocks long and you'll know you've reached the end of it when you pass the town hall and see the gravel road that leads to the cemetery. On a nice day the cemetery can be a great place for a picnic. I actually prefer it to the park.

Q: So this town is a real place?

LP: It is to me. But then I'm an only child and we're known for creating not just imaginary friends but entire galaxies.

Q: Throughout the first three Hallie Palmer books you make it sound as if the town has been hurt by the advent of outlet centers and superstores?

LP: Cosgrove has certainly known its ups and downs, like so many towns in Middle America. Back in the 1800s the land around there was a good place for a farmer to settle, since the soil is rich and you had not only the railroad nearby for transporting your crops but also the Great Lakes. The Erie Canal was completed in 1825 and so your grain or lumber or whatever was sent by train to Buffalo and then got loaded onto mule barges that went past Albany on the Hudson River, to New York City, and could then go on to Europe. Similarly, after the transcontinental railroad was completed in 1869, your goods could be easily transported to Chicago and the fast-developing Plains, Rockies and California.

Q: Do you want to start singing "Erie Canal"?

LP: "Low bridge, everybody down. Low bridge, for we're coming to a town."

Q: Did you have to sing that in elementary school as many times as we did?

LP : More. Sweet Home is a public school.

Q: I'd forgotten that the name of your school system is Sweet Home. My condolences.

LP: It definitely caused more than a few fights. Our mascot was the panther but at basketball games the opposing team liked to snarl, "Sweet Home Sweeties." This didn't go over real well. No matter, I'm just glad they finally got the asbestos out of the ceilings.

Q: So the town where Hallie lives was going gangbusters back in the 1890s. What went wrong?

LP: As farming became increasingly mechanized, people began working and living in town. But by the 1940s they'd started migrating to the cities for work in the factories, steel plants, stockyards, and granaries. At least until many of those jobs began going overseas in the 1960s. Then the oil crisis and recession of the 1970s hit the area pretty hard. However, this past year the town is becoming more of a bedroom community for Cleveland, and if they go ahead with those plans to start a commuter train it's really going to revive things.

Q: And exactly how is it that you know all of this? Do you have a seat on the town council?

LP: Actually, I'm the town historian.

Q: Sure you are. Now back to the story. Do we finally find out the name of Hallie's mom?

LP: No.

Q: THE BIG SHUFFLE seems darker than the first two books in the series --- BEGINNER'S LUCK and HEART'S DESIRE. Has anything happened to make you more pessimistic since you wrote those?

LP: I don't find it so, but then I thought LAST CALL was optimistic and a good portion of that book was about dying from cancer. I tend to stick with the themes of life, love, and death. So basically in every book someone is going to get it. Here it was a greater tragedy because Hallie's father is a relatively young man and leaves behind this enormous family. On the other hand, the Palmers have experienced plenty of new life, with a total of 10 children, and so every once in awhile the pendulum has to swing.

Q: But was it necessary to go that far for Hallie to become an adult?

LP: Good question. No, I don't think anything was needed to help Hallie along, and that she was going to arrive on her own just fine. She didn't have to be snapped into reality by a major event. I suppose I was harkening back to the past. There wasn't really such a thing as "childhood" until about 60 years ago. Children were regarded as small adults. Furthermore, if you consider that back then the average lifespan was lower, families were larger, and the number of women who died in childbirth was much greater, Hallie's situation as temporary head of the household wouldn't have been that unusual. In fact, I oftentimes think that teenagers today don't feel all that challenged by their roles and fantasize about being able to do something heroic in a tough situation. I'm not advocating such circumstances, simply saying that most teens can and will rise to the occasion when put to the test, rather than just play sports, start rock bands, do homework, work at the Tastee Freez and roam the mall. On the flip side, I know a lot of teenagers who do community service, whether it's through school, a religious organization or on their own, and this is a great way of learning about what type of adult they'd like to become.

Q: I've noticed that you seem to kill off at least one man in every novel?

LP: A few women have stepped on a rainbow --- Denny's wife in GOING AWAY PARTY, Hayden's wife in LAST CALL and Pastor Costello's mother was called home sometime between HEART'S DESIRE and THE BIG SHUFFLE. But you're right to ask since these deaths occurred off stage and were more plot devices than the demise of developed characters. In my defense, Olivia takes a bad fall in HEART'S DESIRE and Hallie's mom spends several months in a hospital during THE BIG SHUFFLE. Overall, you're correct and I appear to be a man killer. Please don't tell my husband.

Q: Where did Uncle Lenny come from? He must be one of your more bizarre characters.

LP: I think Uncle Lenny comes off as being eccentric only because he's been temporarily transplanted to a small town in Ohio and we don't encounter him in the port of Marseille. Which is what makes Uncle Lenny so much fun to have in the book --- he has a different vocabulary from years at sea and is not familiar with typical suburban family life. However, he's practical in the way that most sailors are, has a big heart, and ends up being an enormous help, which is more than we can say for Aunt Lala.

Q: Why is Bernard afraid to travel? Is that supposed to be symbolic in some way?

LP: I think we all have our fears, some more rational than others, some more acceptable or explainable than others. I never meant for it to be symbolic of anything. Bernard is just a home and hearth kind of guy and has hung on to that worry so many of us have when we're young about going into the woods and not coming back. Or worse, a loved one leaving and not returning. Bernard feels that nothing bad can happen in the safety of one's own home, surround by the people you love, aside from the occasional kitchen accident.

Q: What's Hallie's biggest fear?

LP: Aside from dropping one of those twins on his head, I guess it would be to make the wrong decision about something important --- what man to marry, what job to take, where to live. I think that Hallie is in many ways overwhelmed by the amount of freedom she has to make choices regarding the direction her life will take. And that's why she keeps circling her safe places --- Officer Rich, The Stocktons, her family --- always on the lookout for clear answers. To a good card player there's almost always a right move --- at least the odds favor it 51% and so you make it. But in real life the probabilities, decision trees and possible outcomes can't be calculated as accurately. This drives Hallie crazy, the fact that the world isn't a math problem that can be easily solved with a pencil and paper. And that like work done with a pencil, life choices can't necessarily be erased.

Q: What are you most afraid of?

LP: Dying one of those long, slow, horrible deaths from a disease they don't know much about, you can't pronounce and none of my friends have heard of, so between month long hospital stays I'm on the Internet searching for cures and ordering guava pip concentrate from South America, lighting lavender candles and forming healing circles with the dogs. I'd much rather the M4 bus come barreling up Madison Avenue on a winter day when there's a bad glare and the curb is slippery and performs the grim reaper's job lickety-split. As soon as the passengers look out the window and see that the driver has killed a woman wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe and silver moon boots they groan and immediately start shouting, "Give us a refund!" and "Is there another bus behind this one?"

Q: Good luck with that. Why is BEST BET, the next book, going to be last of the Hallie Palmer series?

LP: At around the age of 22 I suddenly became very boring, basically the person I am today.

Q: So what's next?

LP: There's a stand-alone novel called FOOL'S MATE, which is a bit edgier than this series. It takes place in a newsroom and there are some political machinations, which I've mostly avoided in the Hallie Palmer books, aside from Olivia's protests and editorializing. I'm also working on a new series where two women open an animal hospital in upstate New York. One is a veterinarian and the other has an MBA.

Q: Wait a second. That sounds like my life.

LP: It is. But I had the idea first. Remember --- I showed it to you years ago when you lived in Manhattan and then you went and copied it with your life. Same with John and Kelly adopting a baby from China. They stole that from HEART'S DESIRE.

Q: Will a lot of men die in the next series?

LP: I suppose it depends on whether or not they're good drivers. The winters in upstate New York are very icy.

Q: What's your ultimate goal as a writer?

LP: Ideally I'd like to get my books banned. That seems to be the best thing for sales.

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Review

Hallie Palmer is, in many ways, a typical college student. In fact, at the beginning of THE BIG SHUFFLE we find her at a fraternity kegger trying to connect with the young man she has her eye on. But the idyll is destroyed as a frantic, scarved, older man crashes the party and drags Hallie out, telling her that her father has had a heart attack. Hallie has a hard time comprehending how this could happen to such a young, physically imposing gentleman. And, by the time she and her scarf-sporting escort (her good friend Bernard) arrive at the hospital, she has to deal with a much more difficult concept --- her father has died.

Laura Pedersen's latest Hallie Palmer novel, following BEGINNER'S LUCK and HEART'S DESIRE, is not what you'd expect from the setup. Upon arriving at the hospital, Hallie is also told that her mother is incapacitated by grief, and it falls on Hallie to care for her siblings. Hallie is one of 10 children and the oldest girl. Her brother Eric, a college athlete, is on his way home by plane, but in the meantime Hallie is totally responsible for the Palmer clan. Eventually it becomes apparent that her mother won't be home anytime soon; in fact, she is transferred to a psychiatric facility. Eric can stay to help for a while, but it is determined that, because he is on scholarship and close to graduation, he will return to school while Hallie will withdraw from her classes in order to run the Palmer household.

The funeral is a blur, as Hallie doesn't have time to properly mourn her father. She has to feed, clothe and bathe the younger children (ranging in age from 16 years old to 2 months old), not to mention explain to them that their father has died and their mother has been hospitalized. In true small-town fashion, the community rallies around the Palmers with assistance, support and casseroles. While it helps in the short term, Hallie knows it won't last forever.

As the proverbial smoke clears, Hallie finds that she is supported by both the likeliest and unlikeliest figures, including her scatterbrained aunt Lala, her salty old uncle Lenny, and her wonderful friends Bernard and Gil. Her boyfriend Craig and the selfless Father Costello provide comfort and then challenge Hallie to rethink her relationships.

Pedersen's warm and surprisingly funny novel is immensely readable and quite enjoyable. Some of the Palmer family background, specifically why Hallie dropped out of high school and came to live with Bernard and Gil, is unclear as it is addressed in earlier novels. Those who haven't read these previous books can only assume things about Hallie's past as a teenage gambler and card shark. Still, THE BIG SHUFFLE stands alone as a good story.

While the premise of the novel is sad and easily could become claustrophobic, Pedersen manages to keep the focus on Hallie and how she copes day to day, moment to moment, with the hand she is dealt. There are no major emotional epiphanies --- just an honest look at the mundane details that occupy us in the wake of such a loss as Hallie's.

Pedersen does throw in some neat tricks. For example, the weather in the small Ohio town in which the tale is set seems to reflect the state of affairs in the Palmer house, from winter storms to spring floods.

The Palmer family does regain a sense of normality, but Hallie and the others are radically changed. THE BIG SHUFFLE is a coming-of-age story with a unique and charming perspective.

   --- Reviewed by Sarah Rachel Egelman

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Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

It's a cold and windless January night following a two-day winter storm. All across the campus of the Cleveland Art Institute a blanket of snow sparkles as if encrusted with tiny diamonds. Thick clouds blot out the moonlight and for a moment it feels as if all of nature is hushed.

Suzy, Robin, and I walk the half mile to the Theta Chi frat house, a box-shaped building with dark brown vinyl siding that looks as if it could be the back part of a church where the priests reside, were it not for the large wooden Greek letters pounded in-between the second and third floors. Theta Chi is hosting a Welcome Back keg party and all comers are indeed welcome, so long as they can produce an I.D, real or otherwise, along with twenty bucks to be paid in cash at the door.

The reason I have to go is because my roommate Suzy has this huge crush on the president, and she convinces Robin and me to be her accomplices in searching for ways to drive the manhunt in a forwardly direction. But being that it's a new semester, and a brand new year, I'm certainly open for adventure. When you're eighteen, the possibilities seem endless. At the same time, I'm feeling a bit lonely, since Craig, the guy I really like, attends college in Minnesota. We're eleven hundred miles apart and he and I both agreed that it's best not to be exclusive with each other, at least for now.

Once inside the front door we pay our cover charge and a guy wearing a multi-colored felt jester hat uses a stamp to emblazon the backs of our hands with big purple beavers. In the strobe-lit entrance hall Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire" blares from speakers that seem to be everywhere. The jacked-up bass causes the wooden floorboards to thump so it feels as if there's a heartbeat in each foot. The couches are pushed back against the walls and from the ceiling of the large living room hang dozens of strings of chili pepper lights that cast a crazy quilt of patterns onto the guests. Young people stand around holding big red plastic cups, occasionally leaning in close to yell something at one other. They nod or laugh and over near the fireplace a few dance.

A guy wearing a T-shirt that says, "Freshmen Girls --- Get 'Em While They're Skinny," rolls a fresh keg past us and catches my eye. He's heading toward a place underneath a mangy bison head where participants in a beer-chugging contest appear to be making excellent progress. There's a sign taped to the Bison's nose announcing: CHUG FOR CHARITY.

Oh my gosh --- it's Josh! He's this junior in the art department whom I had a crush on the entire first semester of my freshman year, while he didn't even know I was alive. Someone told me he had a girlfriend at another school, but I never saw any proof, aside from his painstaking avoidance of me.

After dropping off the keg he comes over and hands me a beer. "Do I know you?"

"Hallie Palmer," I reply, trying not to feel devastated that he doesn't remember my name.

We begin a shouted exchange and I remind him of the shared computer graphics class.

"Oh yeah," he says and nods.

Though whether he means that he remembers the class or me is impossible to tell.

Our talk segues to general stuff like movies and families. Only the problem is that now, after so much fantasizing about our nonexistent relationship, and several beers, I'm experiencing difficulty separating the real conversation we're finally engaged in from all the imaginary ones I had with him last fall. For instance, Josh looks surprised when I talk about having nine brothers and sisters, whereas I'm thinking we covered that months ago.

I'm desperately trying to act interested in everything that Josh is telling me about where he's from and what he's studying even though I already know all of this from looking up his campus profile on the Internet. I may be majoring in graphic arts, but like most college women, I minor in stalking.

Just when I fear we've run out of conversation, Josh finally says, "Hey, wanna dance?"

Exactly what I was hoping for. Josh and I put down our plastic cups and move to the area in front of the fireplace where throngs of intoxicated students dance to Jason Mraz's "I'll Do Anything." I'm probably reading too much into the situation, as usual, but it's as if every line in the song has a double, or even triple, meaning.

The song comes to an end and when the next one begins, Josh appears to be finished with the dancing part of the evening. He stands still while everyone begins jumping around to "Heat Wave." Meantime, Suzy pushes her way toward us through the closely packed gyrating crowd, carefully ducking and maneuvering so as not to disturb any of the headgear with beer cans attached to the top and plastic tubes running into the mouths of thirsty revelers. Her cheeks are flushed. "I found Ross! He's upstairs!"

"This is Josh," I lean in close and say to Suzy.

"Hey Josh," she shouts, barely glancing over at him. "Hallie --- they're playing strip poker upstairs and you have to come because I don't know how to play and --- " Suzy stops midstream and looks back at Josh. "Is that Josh?" she asks me. The emphasis is code for: The guy you were so obsessed with that I thought the counseling office was going to have to be brought in for an assist?

"Yes," I bob my head up and down to indicate it's that Josh, while pretending that she probably didn't hear me the fist time because it's so loud. "Yes, his name is Josh."

Suzy smiles. This translates into: He's even cuter than he was last year and you're going to get lucky tonight!

"You said that you found Ross," I remind her.

Suzy grabs both our hands. "You guys have to come and teach me how to play strip poker."

"Actually I'm not much of a poker player," says Josh, holding his ground.

"Me neither," I lie. I've been playing poker since I was seven, but why appear anxious when Suzy is going to close this deal for me?

"Please you guys," implores Suzy.

Fortunately Josh just laughs and obliging follows.

Suzy pulls us in the direction of the wide staircase that empties into the back of the living room. What might soon qualify as a three-alarm blaze is now roaring in the fireplace, with two guys toasting marshmallows on what appear to be pool cues, or what were pool cues. The room was already hot and redolent of spilled beer, and now it's becoming filled with thick gray smoke. Somebody might want to check on how long it's been since the chimney was last cleaned.

Suzy is giddy with excitement, turning back and smiling every few seconds as she directs us to the second floor, and then up a narrow staircase at the end of the hall that leads to a refinished attic. Eight kids are lounging around on oversized pillows in a dimly lit room with a lava lamp in the corner and Bruce Cockburn's "Get Up Jonah" wailing from a boom box in the corner. Everyone is still fully dressed, but if the loud laughing and joking is anything to go by, no longer fully sober. A guy wearing khaki shorts, a frat house T-shirt, and a cowboy hat is shuffling a deck of cards. There's the distinctive but faint aroma of marijuana, but given that the one hexagonal window in the room doesn't open, it's impossible to tell whether the scent is from tonight's group or previous parties.

"Are you outlaws here to play poker or are you delivering the pizza?" says the guy nearest the boom box, whom I recognize as Ross, Suzy's big crush.

Everyone laughs uproariously at this stupid joke. Suzy finally releases our hands and I come out from behind her. A girl named Jennifer and a guy named Kevin, both of whom I recognize from my freshman year dorm simultaneously say, "I didn't know I was going to play against Hallie Palmer," and "Now things are really getting exciting."

It's not unknown for me to sit in on a dorm game now and then and clean up a pot or two. Most of the kids aren't exactly strong opponents to begin with, however they usually drink while playing, and this gives me an even greater advantage. People who booze while they bet tend not to fold nearly as early or often as they should.

Josh looks quizzical and I'm hoping he'll think these remarks apply to my naked body and not my poker skills, because I certainly don't want him to leave. Suzy and I move him to a place in the circle and the guy in the cowboy hat calls for a game of five-card draw with deuces wild. Ross announces that we all have to start with our shoes and socks on or off. Since some of the guys already have theirs off (knowing full well that this issue would be raised), it's agreed that the rest of us will remove ours.

Mr. Cowboy Hat deals the cards but before we can pick them up, Ross holds up his hand and says wait, "We didn't decide about underwear."

I can see why he was appointed as president of the fraternity. This is a man who doesn't overlook details and yet is prepared to operate by consensus.

The four guys all yell NO to underwear while the five women shout YES. Though the boys are much louder, the girls are greater in number. "I'll do odds or evens with one of the girls," states Ross. The girls could argue this but they don't because some secretly want to play down to the nude. Let's face it, a girl doesn't join a game of strip poker unless she likes one of the guy players or else she's incredibly drunk.

Suzy volunteers to throw out fingers against Ross, promptly loses the underwear option, and then conveniently remains sitting next to him.

Picking up my cards I find a pair of sixes and also a wild two. So I have three of a kind to start off and with the chance to replace to cards, the prospect of four sixes! Though I don't receive another six or wild card, an ace comes my way. So while the other high hand --- three sixes made with a wild two --- has only a queen for the high card, I'm the winner. Everyone good-naturedly removes an article of clothing and throws it into the center of the circle. Following three more hands I've lost only my pants, while almost everyone else is down to their underwear, and Jennifer has also lost her bra. The other girls sit in their bras and panties nervously alternating puffs on cigarettes with long sips of beer. Between the cloud formed by their cigarettes and the stream of smoke rising from the controlled burn downstairs, the room is becoming more than a bit hazy, and so I don't know how much we'll actually be able to see when people are fully naked.

Mr. Cowboy Hat, who I've since found out is named Justin, is the first one required to throw in his underwear, but takes his Stetson off instead. The girls cry foul.

"You'd better show us more than your side part!" exclaims Christine.

"There's no rule against hats," insists Justin. "You could have worn one."

"If that's the case then my ring and necklace count as articles of clothing," argues a braless Jennifer.

The more those two bicker the more everyone else roars with laughter. Justin is finally forced to acquiesce and let Jennifer trade her bra back for her silver cross necklace, given that he wants to keep his briefs on for the time being. Between Josh placing his hand on my knee every few minutes and the good cards that keep coming my way, I decide that this must indeed be my lucky night.

"Hall-ie…" I hear my name echoing somewhere within the swirl of music, shouts, laughter, and a gauzy but pleasant alcoholic haze.

It can't be. It cannot be the voice that boomerangs through the garden at the Stockton's and calls me in for dinner at the end of the day.

CHAPTER 2

Sure enough, Bernard Stockton, my longtime mentor and summer employer, crawls toward the circle on his hands and knees, panting with exhaustion. It must be two o'clock in the morning and the house party is now in full swing, with "I'll Stop The World And Melt With You" blasting from basement to rafters.

Oh no --- could there have been another breakup with Gil? Tell me it isn't true! They've been so happy since getting back together and adopting the two little Chinese girls. Or worse, maybe something terrible has happened to Olivia and Ottavio on their trip to Italy. A plane crash?

Bernard locates me through the fog bank and then drops flat on the floor as if he's been crawling through the desert and finally reached an oasis. Covered in a heavy down parka with a scarf wrapped around his neck and carrying a fleece hat in hand, sweat pours off Bernard's face, his eyes are rimmed with red and he's gasping for air. But something else is odd. Those aren't his usual gabardine wool winter slacks. They're navy blue silk pajama bottoms! Bernard never goes out of the house unless he's immaculately dressed and every salt and pepper hair is in place.

"Hallie!"

"Bernard?"

"Heaven's to Betsy Bloomingdale." Bernard begins coughing uncontrollably and pounds his hand on the floor while catching his breath. "I'm tipsy and tripping and dying of asphyxiation without having imbibed nor inhaled." Bernard raises his head an inch. "And possibly betrothed --- some woman thinks I'm George Clooney and kissed me solidly on the mouth. She has eyes like cherry strudel and appears to be riding high on everything but skates."

"Kimberly," everyone says in unison.

Jennifer has grabbed a T-shirt off the mound of clothes in the center of the circle and put it on to cover her once again bare chest. Otherwise the group doesn't appear overly bothered by the adult intrusion, at least after making certain it's no one from the dean's office or else the campus police on the prowl for underage drinkers. Parents occasionally show up at these things, sometimes after opening their credit card bills or receiving a call from the insurance company about a car accident. But the only one who needs to worry about that is the particular student being hunted down.

"Hallie, I've been looking absolutely everywhere for you. Come on --- we have to go!" Bernard doesn't so much as say hello to the rest of the kids, which is completely unlike him. "I don't want you to be alarmed," he says in a voice that suggests I should be very alarmed indeed, "but your father had a heart attack."

Huh? My dad --- a heart attack --- impossible! He's young and strong and not even forty! I sit there stunned.

With a certain amount of dramatic huffing and puffing Bernard rises to his feet. "We must go to the hospital now!" He enunciates the words as if talking to someone who can only lip read.

Not knowing what to say to Bernard or anyone else I stand up and walk toward him like an automaton. It's only when I reach the door that he says, "It's rather chilly outside, you might want to consider pants."

However Josh has anticipated this and dug my jeans from out of the clothing pile. After handing them to me he retrieves my socks and shoes from the corner of the room.

I quickly dress and we head toward the main floor. Only the entire house is now chock full of people partying, swaying to music, and propped up against walls, their outstretched legs blocking the hallways and stairwells. Bernard is pardonez-moi-ing every step of the way through this obstacle course while towing me along behind him. We finally reach the front door, but it takes another moment to push through a crowd of rowdy women just arriving and claiming to have paid earlier. The heavyset doorman, who happens to be a linebacker on the football team, is effectively blocking their entrance and shouting, "Show me your beavers!"

Bernard looks questioningly at me. "Hand stamp," I explain. But it's too loud to hear anything and so I put mine up to Bernard's face and he nods in understanding.

Once we're outside Bernard continues to yell as if he's still competing with the music. "Gil is waiting in the car with the girls. It must be a mile from here --- there isn't any place to park on campus. In fact, I've been to so many different parties I don't even know where I am." Bernard stops and looks searchingly up and down the street.

"What did you park in front of?" I holler back, though it's quiet now but for a few shouts coming from a late night snowball fight across the quad.

"There was some sort of sculpture out front --- it looked like a giant toadstool."

"That's the science building," I say. "It's supposed to be a molecule or an amoeba or something."

I hurry Bernard in the correct direction and the cold air clears my head slightly. "Is it serious?" I ask Bernard.

"I'm not sure. Your sister Louise phoned." Only now we've been jogging for a few minutes and it's not so easy to catch our breath. "You-can-call-her-from-the-car."

I easily locate the maroon Volvo that Bernard recently traded for his vintage silver Alfa Romeo parked across from the science building with its engine running, the exhaust puffing a cloud of gray smoke into the cold winter air.

The girls are asleep in their car seats in the back and I climb between them while Bernard dives into the passenger side. The moment I pull the door closed Gil shoves a cell phone in my ear and then puts the car into gear so that we jump away from the curb.

My sister Louise is frantic on the other end of the line. "Hallie? Is that you?"

"Yeah," I exhale heavily.

"Thank God they found you! Please go to the hospital right away and find out what's going on. I'm stuck here with the kids. And every time the phone rings I practically faint. Relatives are calling. There are people I've never even heard of --- an uncle Lenny from somewhere in the West Indies."

"That's dad's uncle," I explain. "Our great uncle. Only I thought he lived on a houseboat near Miami."

"I'm so worried, Hallie." Louise sounds as if she's starting to cry, and that it's not for the first time over the past few hours. "I don't know what happened. I woke up and the paramedics were flying down the stairs with dad on a stretcher and mom threw a coat over her nightgown and yelled at me to watch the kids. Reggie's been screaming bloody murder. I finally gave him a bottle of regular milk. It'll probably kill him. But at least he shut up. Tell Bernard and Gil that I'm sorry to have woken them up but I didn't know what else to do."

"No, it's fine." I'm suddenly feeling incredibly sober.

"I finally got hold of Eric about an hour ago," reports Louise. "He's taking a bus from Indiana that leaves late tonight and arrives in the morning."

"I'll go to the hospital, find out what's happening, and then call you right back." I click off the phone and let my head tip over backward.

"Don't worry," says Gil. "The new hospital has a terrific cardiac unit --- state of the art."

"How old is your dad?" asks Bernard.

"Both my parents are thirty-nine," I say. It's easy to remember because I just have to add nineteen to whatever Eric's age is at any given time.

"Oh, that's young," says Bernard. "He'll be fine. They can do quadruple bypasses and even replace valves with animal parts. We eat too much ham and bacon so the surgeon has to install some pig aortas. It's one giant recycling system. And if your heart can't be salvaged then they just throw it away and paste in a whole new one."

© 2009 Laura Pedersen

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