by Coco Simon
“Which goes to show you should do whatever you want when it comes to art,” Mimi said. “Paint how you love to paint, write what you love to write, sing what you want to sing!”
She turned to me. “The point is, you’re never going to make everybody happy, Lindsay, so it’s important that you make you happy.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Mimi.”
Of course all this made me think of my mom. She always painted what made her happy. I pictured her sitting by her easel, softly humming as she mixed colors from her palette.
I remembered one time when she had just finished a painting; I caught her looking at the final product, her head tilted slightly to one side, with a small, satisfied smile on her face. “I can never get it exactly the way I see it in my mind, Linds,” she told me. “But this one is close.”
Monet painted a lot of water lilies, but there were other paintings I found equally wonderful. Fishing boats, sailboats, cathedrals: they were all beautiful to me.
After I made sure I had looked at every single one, Mimi called Dad to come pick us up, and told him we were going to make a quick stop at the gift shop first. Mimi bought me an art book all about Monet’s paintings. It was pretty expensive.
We met up with Dad and got into the car, and the minute he saw the bag from the gift shop, Dad immediately whipped out his wallet, thinking I had asked Mimi to buy the pricey art book for me.
But Mimi waved her hand, shooing him away, saying it was a gift and her treat.
After some protest, Dad eventually put his wallet away. “But I’m paying for dinner,” he said. “No arguments. It’s not up for discussion.”
Mimi nodded seriously. “Yes. Food I’ll let you pay for,” she said. And we all laughed.
Dad and Mimi and I stopped at a restaurant Dad wanted to try for dinner, and he went to talk to the manager while Mimi and I settled into a booth.
“I worked up an appetite,” said Mimi.
I realized I was pretty hungry too. I looked at the menu, which was huge, and everything sounded good.
“Okay,” said Dad, sliding into the other side of the table. “There are a few things I’d like to try, so let me know if there’s anything that catches your eye. Otherwise I’ll order for everyone.”
“That makes it easy,” said Mimi, and she slapped her menu shut and slid it to Dad.
Dad ordered enough food for about ten people.
“Uh, Mike, it’s just the three of us, right?” asked Mimi.
“It’s market research!” said Dad.
It was strange to be in a restaurant that wasn’t the Park. I noticed how busy the staff was, and, because it was a big restaurant, they really had to move fast to get from the kitchen to the tables.
It was also weird to be out to dinner and not see one person we knew. I wondered if you could spend a whole day in a city without seeing anyone you had ever met before. You would be totally anonymous.
I wondered if that was good or bad. You could pretty much do what you wanted to do, but then again, if you didn’t show up somewhere, would anyone know? What if you needed help and didn’t know anyone to ask? What if you just wanted to see a friendly face but all you saw were strangers?
It was also a little weird being someplace with just Mimi and Dad. After Mom died, it seemed like three of us (me, Skylar, Dad), went everywhere together.
When we were a family of four, I didn’t really notice when Mom was out or Skylar was off doing something. And since Dad worked a lot, there were a lot of times it was just Skylar, me, and Mom.
Now I’m always aware of where Dad and Skylar are, and it’s like I’m constantly looking around for Sky if he’s not with us. If I moved to the city, it would just be Dad and Sky back home.
For some reason that thought made my throat feel a little funny. Maybe without the two of them, I would be lonely.
Dad must have read my mind, because he said, “Ah, it’s strange not to have Skylar here, but Mimi, you should consider this your last meal with no whining while you’re visiting.”
Mimi laughed. “Oh, Sky is a good kid,” she said. “I can’t wait to see him. But today is about Lindsay! Tell me about middle school. Are you excited?”
Here we go again, I thought.
“Not really,” I said. “It’s a new school but the same kids, so not much is different.”
“Oh!” said Mimi, surprised. “Your mom spoke so highly about the school, though. It has wonderful programs, especially for art. And some of her friends still teach there, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, Carla teaches there,” Dad said. “You remember her, right, Mimi? And Laurie is still the assistant principal.”
“Laurie is Casey’s mom,” I said.
“Of course!” said Mimi. “I remembered that. It will be a little weird for Casey then, right?”
I remembered talking about it with Casey before she left for camp, when she was packing up her stuff and there were clothes thrown all over her room. I knew she was not too happy to have her mom at school with her.
“I mean, I’ll see her every day, all day!” she said, flopping on her bed. Then she sat up. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll bet you’d do anything to see your mom every day.”
I was quiet for a second, which I can only do with Casey. Usually I’d just quickly say, “Oh, it’s okay” to get the awkward moment over.
But Casey understood. She tilted her head and waited for me to think it through.
I thought about how I’d feel if Mom was my principal. She’d always know if I got in trouble, if there was a test, if I was talking to someone or not.
“No, I get it,” I said. “I mean, yes, of course I’d do anything to have my mom back. But if she was here and things were normal, I would not be too happy having her watch me all day.”
Casey sighed. “That’s why Gabby liked high school so much. She got rid of Mom on an hourly basis!”
“But it’s not just you,” I said. “Jessica Walsh’s mom is a teacher there, and Jake Todd’s dad is a science teacher. Claire’s mom works in the lunchroom, and Richie Miller’s mom works in the office. Almost every teacher or staff person there has a kid who goes through that school at some point….”
“True,” said Casey. “It’s totally worse for Claire. I mean, her mom is probably not going to let her eat only french fries for lunch.” She giggled.
“I know!” I said.
“ ‘Claire, you come back here and get milk and some fruit!’ ” Casey imitated in a high voice.
“ ‘And you sit with those nice kids over there!’ ” I imitated in a high voice too.
We collapsed into giggles on the floor.
“Well, thank you for showing me that someone always has it worse,” said Casey.
“It is my duty as your friend to always make you feel better!” I said.
She smiled. “It’s going to be a long summer without you, Miss L.!” she said.
“Don’t worry,” I said, laughing. “You’re in for an even longer year with me when you get back.”
“Ugh!” said Casey, and then she hopped up. “Okay I can only take three books, so help me decide here!”
We spent the next hour debating the books Casey had on her shelf until her mom peeked in and said, “Ladies, I can assume you’re having a good time, but need I remind you that someone named Casey has to be packed and ready to go in the morning? The very early morning?”
Then we got down to business, with me calling out the things that were on Casey’s packing list and Casey folding them up and stuffing them into a giant duffel bag.
That day seemed like a long time ago now, especially with the first day of school right around the corner. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe middle school would be different. Maybe everyone was worried about it for different reasons. Maybe I should be worried about it.
On the car ride home I looked out the window at the lights of the city as they disappeared behind us. As much as I loved the city tonight, I was glad to be
going home, where Sky and Nans and Grandpa were waiting for us and where I knew tomorrow morning I’d have a text from Casey.
Chapter Seven Middle School Musings
Sure enough, the next morning there was a text from Casey, asking me what time I would be home from work. I texted her back, put on my Donut Dreams shirt, and went downstairs, where Nans and Mimi were already having coffee.
“Ready for work?” asked Nans, putting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. “Mimi is going to wait until Prince Sky wakes up, so I can drive you to the Park and get some things done in the office.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I looked from Nans to Mimi and smiled at them as I ate. It was nice having both grandmas here at the same time.
“Okay, all done! Reporting for duty,” I said, finishing up my breakfast. Mimi reached over to clear my plate.
“I can do it,” I said. I didn’t want Mimi to do any extra work for me.
“Oh, you get to work, honey. I’ll clean up,” said Mimi.
Nans raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
She would always say, “I am not a waitress in my own home!” whenever one of us didn’t clear our plate and scrape it off before we put it in the dishwasher.
“Should I pack a snack in case you get hungry?” asked Mimi, opening the fridge.
“Uh, Mimi,” I said. “I’m going to work in a restaurant. Where there is, um, a lot of food.”
She spun around. “Oh, right,” she said. Then she laughed. “That would be like bringing books to a library!”
“Kind of,” I said.
Mimi was not the type of person to ever sit down. After dinner Nans and Grandpa would sit and talk while they had coffee or tea. When we were at Mimi’s house in Chicago for Thanksgiving, she would jump up and clear the table and start cleaning the kitchen. I never saw her sit around, really. She always had projects, as she called them, or “tidying up” around the house. There was never anything out of place at Mimi’s house, so she must spend a lot of time tidying.
“Well, have a good day, Lindsay,” said Mimi. “I know you’ll do a great job!” She gave me a kiss, and I followed Nans out the door.
When we got into the car, I said, “Nans, Mimi tried to send food to a restaurant!”
“Well,” said Nans. “She means well. She doesn’t know how to help when she comes, so you can’t really blame her. Plus, walking into the house is hard for her, Linds. She misses your mother so much.”
“Why would she miss her more at our house than at her house?” I asked, puzzled.
“Well,” said Nans. “Your mom really made that house your family’s home. Her stamp is all over it, from the garden in the back to her studio, to the mural she painted in Skylar’s room. It’s hard to be there and not think she’s going to come around the corner.”
“You know she’s not going to come around the corner!” I said a little loudly, and Nans glanced at me.
“Well, I think Mimi does too,” she said slowly. “But maybe part of her hopes that when she comes to visit, your mom will be there, just like she used to be.”
For a while I thought Mom would reappear. Every day I’d wake up and think, Maybe that was just a nightmare, and she would be downstairs making me French toast. But after a few months, I stopped thinking that.
“Do you think she likes coming here?” I asked.
“Your grandma? Oh, very much,” said Nans. “She just loves seeing you and Skylar and spending time with you. Right after your mom died, she thought about moving here because she missed you so much.”
“She did?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes,” said Nans. “But she was still working then, and her life was really in Chicago. So she made a promise to herself to visit as often as she could.”
Just then a car pulled out in front of us really slowly, and Nans tapped the brakes.
“Holy moly!” she said. Then she peered over the steering wheel. “Is that your cousin Lily?” she asked.
I looked at the car. “Probably,” I said.
“I am going to have a serious talk with her and with Charlie,” Nans said. “She can’t possibly think it’s okay to drive like that!”
Lily was a really bad driver. Grandpa made her park in the back of the restaurant, away from any customers, because in the first few months after she got her license, she hit two parked cars.
She didn’t drive fast and she was a really nervous driver. She said she didn’t like driving near any other cars, but of course, that was often unavoidable. Usually Uncle Charlie drove with her.
Nans went on and on about Lily’s driving until we got to the Park.
“Lily!” she said, rolling down the window as we pulled in. “Young lady, we are going to talk about your driving!”
Lily sighed, and I gave her a look as if to say sorry, but I also took it as an opportunity to hurry in.
Every morning Grandpa sits at the podium right before we open and watches everyone come to work. He knows who gets there on time and who slides in. He notices if you are trying to eat a bagel while you’re setting up or if your uniform isn’t clean.
“Hello, lovely Lindsay!” he boomed, and I gave him a hug before I tied my apron.
Then I got out the glass cleaner and started polishing the case, even though it was already gleaming. I saw Grandpa glance over and smile.
Kelsey came streaking in a few minutes after me. “Grandpa the Great!” she said, saluting him. “Reporting for duty!”
Grandpa smiled and gave her a wink.
Kelsey went to put her bag in a locker in the back and then came bounding back.
“Okay, I want to hear all about your trip,” she said.
“I’ll show you,” I said, noticing that Nans and Grandpa were going over the specials for the day.
I slipped Kelsey my phone. She flipped through the pictures of the art, her eyes getting bigger and bigger.
“This is so cool, Lindsay! I can’t believe you got to see all this. I’m totally asking Mom if she can take me to this place.”
“It was kind of fun,” I said. “Ellen, the woman who worked as a guide at the museum, showed me some really amazing things.”
Kelsey nodded.
“Kelsey… alert!” I hissed, and she shoved the phone in a drawer.
Dad and Grandpa were headed over. “Okay, guys, we have a special order today,” said Dad. “The track team ordered three dozen donuts for the first track practice of the season.” He handed me a piece of paper. “Can you pack up the boxes with everything they ordered? Someone will run them over at eight.”
Grandpa looked over my shoulder at the order. “Looks like we’re going to need some refilling of the shelves, Jane,” he called to Nans.
Nans looked over and nodded, then headed back to the kitchen. Kelsey and I smiled… fresh donuts out of the fryer are the most delicious thing ever. I knew I’d have to elbow her to get back to the kitchen to “pick up the refills” and snag a freshly made donut.
Everyone was setting up their stations, and by six thirty we were ready to go, with the first customers coming in at 6:31. The regular breakfast customers have been coming for years.
Mrs. Selling was walking slowly, using a cane, and Rich offered her his arm to lean on. “Mrs. Selling, can I help you to your usual table?” he asked.
Mrs. Selling smiled at him.
“Coop, your grandson is just a gem,” she said to Grandpa.
Our family’s last name is Cooper, but everyone calls Grandpa Coop.
“Well, he learned from the best!” Grandpa said.
“The crew is all here!” Mrs. Selling said, looking around. “You’re a lucky man!”
“I am,” said Grandpa. “I am!”
Then he grabbed a coffeepot to start pouring everyone’s morning cup.
Grandpa knew how everyone liked their coffee: with milk, with sugar, or with nothing added. The regulars didn’t even have to ask him; they just sat down and he came over with their cup and saucer.
> Suddenly we heard a crash, and everyone turned around to stare. Dropping things in restaurants is always the worst, especially if it’s crowded. Everyone just stops and I imagine you must feel like you want to sink into the floor.
Usually what goes down is either silverware, which makes a loud racket, or worse, a dish or glass, which shatters. If there’s food on a plate, it makes a huge mess. This time it was a tray, and of course, it was Lily who had dropped it.
I love my cousin, but Lily is a bit clumsy. Uncle Charlie always jokes that to have Lily work as a waitress means ordering an extra set of dishes, because she breaks so many.
Rich and Molly rushed over to help, and I heard Grandpa sigh as he strode over with a broom.
“Poor Lily,” whispered Kelsey.
“I know,” I whispered back. “So embarrassing!”
Lily is really pretty and smart. She has long, wavy dark hair and bright red lips, even without lipstick, and everyone always tells her that she looks like Snow White. Someone passing through town told her she could be a model if she wanted to, in New York. But Lily really wants to be a nurse like her mom, my aunt Sabrina.
“So what outfit are you wearing for the first day of school?” Kelsey asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t really thought about it. Plus, it will still be hot.”
Kelsey tilted her head. “Then can I borrow one? I want to wear something new!”
“Sure,” I said. “But I just don’t get dressing up for the first day. We’ll probably see everyone the day before school starts. So why would you dress up the next day, just to see the same people at school?”
Kelsey paused. “Well, I don’t know. I guess it’s like Thanksgiving or a holiday. I mean, you see your family all the time, but for certain things you just dress up.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That makes sense.”
Kelsey looked at her watch. “This is going to be such a long day. I almost wish school had started already!”
