“Of course not. We’ll have lots of time to catch up.” Aunt Julie gave me another pat on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “We’ll have all summer.” She’d just disappeared when her head popped back in the doorway. “Meg, can I get you anything to drink before you have to dash?”
“Whiskey,” Mom answered intently.
Aunt Julie chuckled like she’d made a joke, continuing down the hall.
I dropped my duffel on the pink zebra-striped throw rug. “Mom—”
“You grew up seeing the world. Experiencing things most people will never get to in their whole lives.” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “You’ve got a million times the perspective of kids your age. A billion times more compassion and an understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Who is she to make me out to be some inadequate parent when all she cares about is raising obedient, genius robots? She doesn’t know what it was like for me. How hard it was.”
“Mom,” I repeated, dropping my hands onto her shoulders as I looked her in the eye. “You did great.”
It took a minute for the red to fade from her face, then another for her posture to relax. “You’re great. I just tried not to get in the way too much and screw all that greatness up.”
“And if you must know, I’d take any of the hundreds of rooms we’ve shared over this pinktastrophe.” So it was kind of a lie, the littlest of ones. Sure, pink was on my offensive list, but the room was clean and had a door, and I would get to stay in the same place at least for the next few months. After living out of suitcases and overnight bags for most of my life, I was looking forward to discovering what drawer-and-closet living was like.
Mom threw her arms around me, pulling me in for one of those final-feeling hugs. Except this time, it kind of was a final one. Realizing that made me feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball down my throat.
“I love you no matter what,” she whispered into my ear again, the same words she’d sang, said, or on occasion shouted at me. Mom never just said I love you. She had something against those three words on their own. They were too open, too loosely defined, too easy to take back when something went wrong.
I love you no matter what had always been her way of telling me she loved me forever and for always. Unconditionally. She said that, before me, she’d never felt that type of love for anyone. What I’d picked up along the way on my own was that I was the only one she felt loved her back in the same way.
Squeezing my arms around my mom a little harder, I returned her final kind of hug. “I love you no matter what, too.”
I was still staring through the bedroom window at the spot where Mom’s taxi had disappeared. I wondered if she was looking out of her window, too.
My lip took the brunt of my nervous energy as my mind ran through a million worst-case scenarios when I thought about Mom on her own.
I tried reassuring myself that she’d be okay. She had those fancy agents and support staff that came with hitting it big. And she had her bandmates…which didn’t give me much confidence, since I was the most adult of all of them. Probably put together. But they took care of one another.
She’d be okay. Everything would be fine.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been at that window when a soft knock sounded at the bedroom door.
“Come on in!” I forced myself from my perch and pasted on an unaffected face.
“I wanted to see if you’d like any help unpacking,” Aunt Julie started as she stepped into the room. Her eyes landed on my suitcase and duffel, in the same spot they’d been dumped, still zippered closed. “Or some help getting started unpacking.”
I was so used to living out of suitcases, I hadn’t gotten around to thinking about putting away my stuff yet. There were so many other things that needed to be experienced before settling in, but Aunt Julie was on a mission. She was rolling up the sleeves of her crisp white oxford and tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, grabbing my duffel, since Aunt Julie had already had dibs on the suitcase.
“We’re so happy you’re here, Jade. I know we haven’t seen each other a lot and we only talk every once in a while, but you’re family and you’re welcome here anytime. I hope you know that.”
Tossing my duffel onto the bed, I tugged open the zipper. “I know that.”
“Truthfully, I’m surprised you never asked to stay before when we offered.” Aunt Julie’s forehead creased after she threw the suitcase top open. “A summer on the California coast is most teenagers’ dream.”
Shrugging, I dislodged my array of sunscreens and lined them up on the dresser in descending SPF order. “I love being on the road with Mom. Seeing new things. Meeting new people. Each day different from the last.”
Aunt Julie unfolded my favorite pair of jeans in front of her, her eyes widening when she saw the holes in the knees and how “loved” they were. I’d found them at some vintage store up in Portland a few months ago and wore them all the time. Whoever owned them before me had worn them all the time, too, so they’d seen a lot of mileage.
“What made you decide to take us up on our offer this summer, then? This is the first time your mom’s band is headlining, so it seems like you really wouldn’t want to miss it.” She folded the jeans back up neatly and tucked them into the bottom drawer of the dresser. As far back as they could be shoved.
“It’s also my last summer before I’ll graduate and be heading off to college.” I grabbed my shower bag next, realizing I’d actually have a reason to unpack it and spread things on a counter. “I wanted to see what this suburban, normal-ish lifestyle is all about.”
Aunt Julie laughed. “I bet you’ll find you enjoy having a routine, a schedule, a stable environment. What your mother was thinking hauling a young girl around the world chasing some silly dream is beyond me.”
She said it in a nice enough tone, but her words hit me wrong. Almost like she was questioning my mom’s parenting.
“I had a routine. It was a stable environment.”
“Jade, honey, the longest you ever stayed anywhere was two weeks.”
My shoulders lifted as I rummaged around in my duffel. “The scenery might have changed, but not much else did. Mom was always there for me, the other band members, too. I had school, hung out with friends, had my hobbies. Our location on the map might have been different, but nothing else was.”
Aunt Julie continued to unfold every item in my suitcase, trying to disguise the surprised look in her eyes when she unearthed yet another thrift store gem. “Friends? How did you manage to make any when your mom uprooted you every other hour?”
“I learned to be really friendly.” I shot a big cheesy grin at her that made her smile, too.
“And homeschooling? Your mom didn’t even graduate high school. How can she expect to teach her daughter things she never learned herself?” When Aunt Julie came to her third pair of cutoffs, in the same condition as the other two, she gave up unpacking with a sigh. There wasn’t anything pink and pristine in there, if that was what she was hoping to find.
“Mom got her GED.” I could tell she wanted to say something to that, but she didn’t. “And she spends hours studying my lesson plans to make sure she’s got it before it comes my way.”
Aunt Julie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “Meg flunked geometry. And biology, if I remember correctly.”
And chemistry and home economics, too. “Some of the harder stuff we go over together. We’ve got a system. It works.”
Aunt Julie sighed again as I searched for topics to steer the conversation away from my mom. Aunt Julie might have loved her sister, but she couldn’t talk about her without sounding like my mom had betrayed her in a hundred different ways, a thousand separate times.
“You obviously want to go to college. It’s irresponsible of your mother to not have
done a better job to set you up for success.” She paused, biting something back. “I’ll find you a tutor for the summer. Someone good. Excellent. Someone who can try to catch you up with your peers.”
“Actually, Aunt Julie,” I cut in. “I’ve been ahead of my peers since kindergarten. No need to go in search of that good-excellent tutor. But thanks.”
“Just because your mom says you’re gifted doesn’t mean a top university will, sweetie. Sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.”
My gaze wandered to the window again. I seriously needed a fresh-air break before I said something I’d regret. “No, but those tests I take at the end of every school year do. Oh, and those SAT score things, too.” I shot her a pleasant smile, watching her reaction. From doubt to surprise, and a couple more repeats, all in less than ten seconds.
Before she could say anything else, I grabbed my cloth purse from the bed and threw it over my shoulder. “Do you mind if I go out and explore for a while? You know, get my bearings in this new land of suburbia?” I felt kind of weird asking for permission. Usually with Mom, I simply told her where I was heading and when I’d be back, but I guessed Aunt Julie wouldn’t be so chill.
From the look on her face you would have thought I’d asked to streak down the block a few laps. “Where do you have in mind? We could head to the mall together and buy you some new clothes?”
The m-word. I shuddered at the idea. I hadn’t set foot in one since I was four and Mom tried dragging me kicking and screaming to visit some lame Santa in Sarasota. We hadn’t made it past the double doors at the entrance before she turned around and let go of her plan to torture me with spilling my guts to some stinky mall Santa.
“Actually, I was thinking I’d wander around on my own two feet. See what there is to see.”
“You don’t have anywhere particular in mind?”
Uh-oh. The tone. The one that was created to make teenagers feel like they didn’t have a clue. Time to improvise before I got to experience the summer in a proverbial cell, or worse.
“I was thinking about finding a summer job. That’s what a lot of teenagers do, right?”
Aunt Julie started to relax. A little. “Well, yeah, sure. I suppose so. Where did you have in mind?”
Anywhere besides the mall?
While I thought of a way to voice this without sounding like I was insulting her apparent love affair with my personal nightmare in brick-and-mortar form, she snapped her fingers. “You know, when I drove by the public pool earlier, I saw a sign saying they were still hiring for the summer. Is that something that might interest you?”
I think I visibly sagged with relief. “Yes!” I practically shouted. “That sounds perfect.”
As Aunt Julie gave me directions, I tried not to look overly eager because I guessed that would alert her. I knew living together would come with plenty of growing pains. I might have been one of the more responsible teenagers around, but I’d lived on more parental trust than most of my peers.
Since I suspected Aunt Julie and Uncle Paul wouldn’t be so laid-back about letting me come and go, I wanted to ease them into the idea. They had to see I could be trusted, so that when I asked to head out for a few hours, their minds didn’t automatically picture me as the main attraction at some drunken orgy.
“Do you want me to drive you?” Aunt Julie asked, already reaching for her purse as we made it down the hall.
“It was a long flight and it’s such a nice day, I’d like to walk. If you don’t mind,” I tacked on for good measure. If I’d said that to my mom, she would have stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
“It’s a bit of a walk. Little more than a mile. You should probably take Uncle Paul’s bike, just in case.”
I decided not to bring up that I frequently walked several miles to find a gas station that served Icees. At this point, I’d unicycle my way there if it meant getting a little alone time.
“The bike sounds great.”
So the bike wasn’t great. Like at all.
And I’d ridden my share of bikes in various stages of disrepair. From the amount of dust that was caked on the seat, I’d guess the last time Uncle Paul had ridden it was in a former life. The chain squeaked so loudly people were turning their heads two blocks down when they heard me coming—or at least it squeaked when it wasn’t falling off the gears. The brakes worked, though. It might have sounded like I was bringing a freight train to a stop whenever I tapped them, but they did their job.
By the time I finally coaxed this so-called efficient means of transportation to the public pool Aunt Julie had told me about, I could have walked there and back again twice. Walking also would have been the preferred option, as I was now showing up to ask about a job with grease-painted hands and arms. Plus, with all the baking I’d done on the sidewalk servicing the lemon of a bike, I was sweaty and hot and, yep, I had pit stains I observed as I leaned the “bike” up against the chain-link fence surrounding the pool. There was a bike rack, and Aunt Julie had given me a lock, but no one was going to steal this thing. I wasn’t that lucky.
Inside, kids were screaming and splashing while parents saw to their tans and newsfeeds. It didn’t seem like too bad a place to work for a summer. I could be outside, which was always a plus—with my SPF in place and reapplied every 90 to 120 minutes—it was close by, and people came here to have fun.
As summer jobs went, this one was golden. Hopefully they still needed someone, as the huge nylon sign strung from the fence facing the busy road suggested.
When I approached the gate, I didn’t see anyone sitting inside the office to check people in or hand out job applications. Maybe there’d be a stack of them sitting out, so I could grab one and return it when I didn’t look like I’d recently fought an entire legion of grease monsters.
I wasn’t that lucky—again. Should have known.
After waiting a few minutes, I considered tracking down a lifeguard to see if they knew how to hunt down an application. As I started to move toward the pool, my phone chimed. I’d already missed three texts from Aunt Julie.
Did you make it there okay?
Jade, are you at the pool?
And finally the last one: I bet you’re turned around. Where are you? I’m on my way.
Punching in a quick text to let her know I was okay and yes, I was here at the pool, I exhaled when she got right back to me.
Phew. Let me know when you leave so I know when to expect you.
Holy helicopter parenting. Mom could have paid a little more attention, maybe, but Aunt Julie’s style was off-the-charts suffocating.
A middle-aged woman finally burst into the office, appearing flustered and exhausted all at once. “I’m sorry. Have you been waiting here awhile?” She hustled up to the counter like getting me taken care of was a matter of life and death.
“Only a minute or two,” I said, wiping my hands on my cutoffs to try to get some of the grease off. It wasn’t that easy, though.
“One for admission?” She wiped her sweaty forehead off with a paper towel, breathing like she’d finished a four-minute mile.
“Actually, I’m checking to see if you’re still hiring.” I clasped my hands behind my back when I saw the rubbing had only made the streaks worse.
The woman practically collapsed into the chair behind her. “You have no idea exactly how much we’re hiring.” Yanking open a metal drawer, she riffled through some papers before pulling a packet free. “Can you pass a background check?”
Oh, crap. Was this, like, the person who was hiring? The manager? I stopped wiping at the grease on my shorts and turned my attention to panicking about my sizable pit stains.
A quick check at her nametag, where the words pool manager were stamped below JANET, confirmed my suspicion.
On the bright side, she wasn’t exactly looking fresh as a daisy herself.
/> “Well, hon? Background check?” Janet asked, waving an application at me. “There’s no sense wasting your time filling one of these out if it’s not going to come back clean.”
“That depends which states you run one in,” I deadpanned. When I realized what I’d said and how Janet had taken it, I raised my greasy hands. “Sorry, that was a joke. A bad joke,” I added as I watched the crease between Janet’s eyebrows carve a canyon. “Yes, I can clear a background check. I’ve never committed any crimes. In any states. Or foreign countries—or territories, for that matter.”
Great, I’d officially botched my first attempt at getting a job.
“When could you start?” Janet scooted the application across the counter toward me.
“Right away.”
She blinked at me, like she was gauging my level of seriousness. “What’s your schedule like?”
“Wide open,” I answered with a shrug.
“Good. You’re hired.”
If it had been physically possible, my jaw would have hit the ground. “For real?”
“On the condition that your background check really does come back clean and you really can start right away. Goodness knows we need you.” Glancing back at the pool deck, Janet waved over at one of the lifeguards.
“Thank you for the job, that’s great,” I stammered, “But, uh, can I ask what that job is?”
I was holding my breath that she wasn’t going to say lifeguard, because I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t certified for that, but instead, she pointed at a stand sitting in the back corner of the pool deck. There was a big window propped open with what looked to be a soda machine and a display of chips and candy out front, but no one was actually inside to help the growing line of people waiting.
“A concession employee. Scooping ice cream, making hot dogs, that kind of thing.” Janet set the application papers in front of me and handed me a pen, like she wasn’t going to let me leave until I’d filled it out.
“What’s the schedule like?” I asked, taking the pen and starting to fill in the first part of the application.
Almost Impossible Page 2
