by Coco Simon
“I think it might be good to take a ride over, just so you are familiar with it before your first day,” she said. “It’s a bigger school, so you could get the lay of the land. And I’ve been asking around the new neighborhood, and there are a few girls who will be in your grade.”
I nodded.
“Okay,” she said brightly. “Well, we have this week to do that, so we’ll just find a good time to go.”
I swallowed hard.
Mom stood in the doorway and waited a minute, then stepped back into the room quickly, gathered me up in her arms, and hugged me tightly. “It’s going to be better, baby girl,” she said, kissing the top of my head like she used to when I was little. She was using her normal voice again. “I promise you, it might be hard, but it’s definitely going to be better.”
I tried really, really hard not to cry. A few tears spilled out, and Mom wiped them away. She took my face in her hands and looked at me. “Now,” she said, “first things first, because I think there’s a griddle that’s calling our names.”
I knew the tradition, so I had to smile.
“Welcome-back pancakes!” we said at the same time. Mom’s blueberry pancakes were my welcome-home-from-camp tradition. She always put ice cream on them to make them into smiley faces and wrote “XO” in syrup on my plate. I could already taste them. I stood up and followed Mom downstairs. Maybe she was right about things. This day was already getting a little bit better.
The next couple of days were a blur. On our last night in the house, we sat on the grass in the backyard. We had been packing and hauling boxes, and we were all sweaty and dirty and tired. Mom and Dad had emptied out the refrigerator and cabinets, so we had kind of a mishmash to eat. Tanner was eating cereal, peanut butter, crackers, and a hot dog that Dad had made on the grill. For dessert Mom pulled out the last carton of ice cream from the freezer, and since we had packed the bowls up, we all stuck spoons in and shared. “Hey!” I yelped as Tanner’s spoon jabbed mine.
“I want those chocolate chips!” he said, digging in. Mom laughed. “In about a week we’re going to have so much ice cream, we won’t even know what to do with it!” Mom’s store was opening soon, and since she was so busy with all the details, the packing at home hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. Since Mom kept having to go to the store for things like the freezer delivery or to meet with people about things like what kind of spoons to order, we actually got Dad’s apartment set up first. It was nice, but it was . . . well, weird. Tanner and I each had our own rooms, but they were kind of small. And Dad’s house felt like Dad’s, not really like our house. Dad had always loved modern things, so everything was glass and leather. It looked like it should be in a catalog. I was kind of afraid to mess anything up. There were a lot of pictures of me and of Tanner, but the first thing I noticed was that there were no pictures of the four of us.
“Where’s the one from New Year’s?” I asked, standing in front of a bookcase. We always took a family picture on New Year’s Day.
Dad looked around. “Oh,” he said, a little flustered. “I guess Mom took those shots. She has more room in the house.”
I looked at him. So this is how it’s going to be, I thought. The three of us here and the three of us there.
“We can take some new shots!” Dad said.
“Better,” I kept whispering to myself. They’d both promised it was going to be better. But it wasn’t really better. It was just downright weird.
The night before moving day, Tanner and I went to bed late. We had been packing all day, and we were beat, but I still couldn’t sleep. I heard the back door open. I looked out my window and saw a shadow on the lawn. I almost freaked out, but then I realized that it was Mom, sitting on one of the rocking chairs that we’d bought for the new house but that had accidentally gotten delivered here. She was facing the house, and she looked like she was trying to memorize exactly the way it looked right then. I wondered if she could see me looking out at her. Then I saw Dad walk toward her. It was kind of weird that he was still here, since he had his apartment already, but they had decided that we would all move at the same time. Dad sat down on the grass next to Mom, and I could see them talking but couldn’t hear what they were saying. I heard Mom laugh, and then I heard Dad laughing too. It was a nice sound. It was the last night we’d all be sleeping in this house together. I knew we were still a family—they kept telling us that—but it was the last time we’d all live together, and tomorrow morning everything was going to really change. I looked at Mom and Dad laughing, but all it did was make my throat thick. Some things were too sad to see, so I flung myself into bed, hoping I’d fall asleep fast.
When the movers rolled up to the house early the next morning, Mom and Dad had already been up for hours, cleaning and sweeping and taking care of a lot of last-minute stuff. The house already didn’t look like ours anymore.
When everything was loaded up, Mom locked the front door and handed Dad the key. We all stood there on the porch for a minute, looking up at the house. Home. I started to cry, and so did Mom. I buried my head in Dad’s chest, and I could tell he was crying too. Only Tanner, who was sitting on the step playing a game on Dad’s phone, seemed unmoved. “Tanner!” I yelled. “Say good-bye to your house!”
Tanner looked up, confused. “Uh, bye, house,” he said, and we all laughed.
“Okay, troops,” Mom said. “Onward.” Tanner and I got into Mom’s car, and we pulled out of the driveway. I looked back down our street as long as I could, saying good-bye to everything as it was.
We turned onto the main road, and Mom took a deep breath. “Okay, gang,” she said. “On to our next adventure! Here we go.”
“To where?” Tanner asked.
“To our new house,” Mom said, turning around to look at Tanner. “And to better things ahead.”
“Oh,” said Tanner. “I thought maybe we were going someplace fun.” Mom looked at Tanner like he had ten heads. Then she looked at me, and we both cracked up. Some things, it seemed, weren’t going to change at all.
Continue Reading…
Sunday Sundaes
Coco Simon
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Coco Simon always dreamed of opening a cupcake bakery but was afraid she would eat all of the profits. When she’s not daydreaming about cupcakes, Coco edits children’s books and has written close to one hundred books for children, tweens, and young adults, which is a lot less than the number of cupcakes she’s eaten. Cupcake Diaries is the first time Coco has mixed her love of cupcakes with writing.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This Simon Spotlight edition June 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Text by Elizabeth Doyle Carey
Chapter header illustrations by Daniel Tornow
Designed by Laura Roode
Jacket illustrated by Tracy Bishop
Jacket illustrations copyright © 2019 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ISBN 978-1-5344-4067-8 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-5344-4066-1 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-5344-4068-5 (eBook)
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number TK
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Coco Simon, Alexis's Half-Baked Idea
