Justin is my best friend in Alabama. In fact, he is my only friend in Alabama. I miss his mom and his dad and his little brother, but they are not my best friends.
Anyway, I have three best friends and Kelly and Brandi are the ones who I see all the time. They are the best friends who like to talk on the phone, who like to put on nail polish with me, who I can really talk about my feelings with. Justin is not good at those things…. but he is very good at having fun and at making me laugh and for knowing me for my entire life.
I think about it.
I, Amber Brown, have three best friends and all of them have moved. Justin moved away in third grade. Kelly moved here this year, in October. Brandi moved here in third grade, and we became friends in fourth.
Moved….. there’s that word again.
MOVE…. that’s a really bad four-letter word.
I hate that word.
I, Amber Brown, hate the word HATE….. another bad four-letter word.
They are both words that I am saying a lot….. and will have to say more.
“Brandi. Kelly,” I say. “I hate to tell you this…but I may have to move. Mom and Max are looking for a new house….. and it may not be in town.”
Brandi and Kelly practically fall to the floor.
They both start to cry.
That makes me start to cry.
“Listen.” I sniffle. “I’ve told you. Now I can’t talk about it anymore. It makes me too sad.”
“Amber,” Kelly says, “should I call my mom and ask if you can come over? Then you won’t have to stay in Elementary Extension.”
I don’t think that I could stand being in that room today, where everyone just sits around or does something just waiting for someone to pick them up.
I nod.
Kelly goes into her backpack and takes out her mobile phone, a Christmas present from her parents.
Kelly Green has a mobile phone, parents who are still married to each other, and she has no problems.
I, Amber Brown, am green with envy about my friend Kelly Green.
That makes Kelly a green without envy.
She is so lucky.
And she has a sheepdog too, named Darth Vader….. a dog that doesn’t even mind when we put nail polish on his toes. She has a cat, Fluffy…who doesn’t let us polish her toes.
I can’t have animals because my mom is allergic to them.
I hope that wherever we move once had a kennel of dogs and cats living in the house, and the animal hair is still all over the place, even in the paint in the walls. That will give my mother something to sneeze at.
Brandi sighs. “Amber, I am so sorry that I can’t come over too. But I have a music lesson and my parents said that if I don’t go to my lessons, I have to pay out of my allowance for the ones I miss…unless I’m sick….. and there is no way that I can say that I am sick and then go over to Kelly’s house.”
Brandi says, “I’ll call you tonight. Gotta go now.”
Kelly talks into the phone for a minute and then smiles, turns off the call and puts the phone into her backpack. “Mom said it’s fine for you to come over to the house. She’s going to call your mom to make sure that it is okay with her….. and then your mom will call the school and let them know that it is okay.”
Mrs. Green and Max are the two grownups, other than my parents, who can take me out of school….. and my parents have it worked out that when one of them takes me out of school for something, then the other one has to give permission.
Not all of the kids in school have to have both parents’ permissions, but some do. I think it’s a divorce thing.
I know that neither of my parents would kidnap me. I know that’s why there is the sign-up thing. They don’t think that kids can figure that out, but we can. My parents would never do that….. unless moving counts as kidnapping.
Kelly and I wait for her mom in front of the office.
“Ms. Brown. Ms. Green.” Mrs. Parker, one of the fifth-grade teachers, comes up to us. “Aren’t you two quite the colorful pair! Brown and Green. It sounds like a meeting of Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts.”
Today, I am not in the mood to hear colorful jokes.
I wonder if I said something to Mrs. Parker about her name, how she would feel about that.
I think what I could say….. like “If you are a twin, does that make you a double-parker?”
Mrs. Green arrives before I say anything.
That’s probably a good thing.
I, Amber Brown, am getting grumpy…and that’s not a good thing.
The way that I’m feeling now is not like me.
I’m really mad, and I can’t seem to get out of my mood.
I’ve never been this mad….. not even when my dad left our house and moved into an apartment….. not even when my dad moved to Paris.
I was more confused and hurt then. Also, I was worried about how my mom felt, and I thought that it was my job to take care of her.
This is different.
Taking a deep breath, I try to figure things out.
I’m not confused.…I know what is happening. My parents are very angry with each other. Max, who I’ve never seen angry, is angry at my dad. My dad is angry with Mom and Max. Sometimes they get angry at me because I am not thinking or doing things the way that they each want. I am angry at my parents and Max.
I’m hurt…. but not like I was when my parents broke up. I don’t think that anything can ever hurt as much as that.
I don’t want to take care of anybody…not my mom…. not my dad…. not Max. I want them to take care of me. After all, I am the kid.
Kelly and I get into her mom’s van.
I, Amber Brown, have noticed that most families have vans. Mom and I don’t because there are only the two of us. Mom always calls vans “the taxis of the suburbs.” Even with Max, I don’t think that we are going to need a van. Only big families with animals need vans. Three people don’t need that much room. We don’t have cats. We don’t have dogs. We don’t have lots of children, just me….. and that is more than enough for a regular car. I like our car.
The van is full.
Darth Vader is in the very back of the van in his cage. He doesn’t like being in his cage, but if he’s not, he jumps around the car, licking everything and slobbering. Lick and slobber. Slobber and lick. People. Upholstery. Windows. He’s one very odd lick-and-slobber dog.
The groceries are in the backseat section.
Kelly’s baby brother and little sister are in the seats behind the driver’s seat.
The kitchen sink is on the seat next to Mrs. Green.
Actually, I, Amber Brown, am just kidding.
It’s not the sink….. just a new faucet for the kitchen sink.
We get into the section with the groceries.
Kelly’s little sister and brother are in the seats in front of us.
Linda, who is three, is singing Sesame Street songs to her Barney.
I just don’t like that dinosaur, even if he is my favorite color, purple.
Joey is asleep. Little bits of spit are coming out of his tiny mouth. He must be getting lessons from Darth Vader. At least he doesn’t lick, at least not yet.
We get to Kelly’s house and help unload the car.
Mrs. Green looks tired.
Linda wants to show us how she and Barney can dance together.
Joey starts crying.
Before I remember how angry I am at my mom, I think about how nice and quiet it is in our house.
Then I remember how angry I am at my mom, and I don’t care to think of anything nice about her and the house that we are going to leave.
Linda opens a box of cereal that Mrs. Green has just unpacked.
Before we can stop her, she has shredded the box and there is cereal all over the kitchen floor.
She really murdered that box of Alpha-Bits.
That makes Linda a cereal killer.
I laugh so much when I think of that…“cereal killer,” serial killer
. Sometimes I really crack myself up.
We help clean it up, and then go to Kelly’s room to do our homework.
I write my thank-you note to Mr. Robinson.
Kelly keeps writing her thank-you note.
She won’t tell me who it is for.
I look at her bookshelf while she is finishing up.
Kelly has such good books….. we share our books.
Kelly finishes.
“Amber Marie Brown,” she says, “I want you to read this.”
She hands it to me.
It’s her homework assignment, her thank-you note.
Dear Amber,
I want to thank you for being so nice when I moved here.
I was so scared and unhappy.
Saying good-bye to all my friends in Metuchen was so hard. I was afraid that they would all forget about me, and no one here would want to be my friend.
I hated moving into a brand-new house and leaving my old one.
All morning before my first day of school, I cried.
The only person that I was going to know in class was Hal, because he lives next door, and I’d only just met him.
I begged my parents to let me stay home for the day, for the week, for the rest of the school year, but no, they made me go.
And then I got there and Hannah Burton was the first kid in the class to talk to me. And she didn’t seem nice, even though she tried to act nice.
It was so good when you got to school, even though you were late.
I, Amber Brown, remember that day.
I’d overslept. My teeth weren’t brushed. My hair wasn’t combed.
Hannah was mean to me.
And then Mrs. Holt asked me to show Kelly Green around. At first, I was a little bit upset that someone else had a colorful name.
I continue reading Kelly’s letter.
Then you showed me around the school, and we talked, and you didn’t even make fun of me when I barfed all over myself
I also remember that….. it was Ping-Pong Barf.
I made a stop at the nurse’s office with Kelly, and we saw this little boy throw up.
Kelly threw up when she saw the kid lose his cookies…and then he threw up again and then she lost hers again. It was not great to look at….. or to smell.
Then when I came back to school after getting cleaned up, you were very nice. (Even though you did tell the boys and they sang “Happy Barfday” to me.)
And you share your friends with me. You don’t get annoyed when Brandi and I do things without you.
Actually, that’s not quite true. I got very upset when they went to the mall without me and got their ears pierced….. even though it wasn’t their fault…they asked me to go but my mom said no.
Anyway, I just want you to know that you are a really nice person (funny, smart, caring, kind) and I want you to stay here. If you can’t stay, I’ll be really sad, but I know that wherever you go, people will think you are wonderful.
I know that it’s not easy to move and that parents get to make all of the decisions, but you are going to be all right.
I want to thank you for being a good friend.
Your pal,
I reread the letter.
It makes me want to cry.
It also makes me want to smile.
It makes me feel better about being able to take care of myself, no matter what happens.
My dad left, and I survived.
Justin left, and I survived.
And if I have to move, and if my parents keep on fighting, I’ll survive….. and I’ll do it Amber Brown style…. and that’s okay.
I know that now….. and I only hope that I don’t forget it.
Chapter
Ten
“Amber, we have to talk,” my mother says.
I just stare at her and don’t say anything.
“Amber, we have to talk,” she repeats. “We really have to talk.”
I continue to stare at her.
My mother stares back.
She blinks first.
I win.
Somehow it doesn’t feel like I’m winning anything great by staring my mother down….. but I’m still glad that I did.
She sighs.
I finally blink, but blinking after a sigh is not giving in.
She sighs again.
It looks like she’s going to cry, but then she just gets an upset look on her face. “Amber Brown. Your attitude is not helping the situation.”
“This situation is not helping my attitude.” I, Amber Brown, am surprised that I say this, but I’m glad that I have.
What is she going to do, send me to my room?
I don’t care. I like my room, and since I’m going to have to move away from it, then I might as well spend as much time in it as I can.
I go to the refrigerator and take out the container of orange juice.
Pouring it into a glass, I concentrate on not spilling any.
“Amber.” My mother speaks softly. “I know that you are angry. I understand why you are so angry.”
I put down the orange juice container and finally speak. “Do you really?”
“I think so.” She nods. “And Mr. Robinson talked to me about what you told him.”
Good for Mr. Robinson, I think. I wonder if he would adopt me.
I think about being Mr. Robinson’s kid…a life of Twizzlers and soda. I do remember, though, that some kids think that he can be really strict sometimes….. and I’m not sure it would be fun to be the principal’s kid.
I stare at my mother, trying to look really mad, but feeling like I want to cry. “I really don’t like what you are doing…. moving us….. and deciding to move without talking to me about it first.”
My mother nods. “Honey, I think that Max and I owe you an apology.”
“We’re not moving?!” I clap my hands.
My mother pours herself a cup of coffee and then says, “Honey, let’s sit down and talk this out.”
I think about it….. will sitting down and talking about the move mean that I’m going to give in….. and they can move me out of my house, out of my town? Will I be able to convince them to leave things just the way they are?
I sit down and take a sip of orange juice.
She smiles, sits down and takes a sip of coffee.
I take another sip of my orange juice.
She takes another sip of her coffee.
First we had a staring contest…. now we seem to be having a “sipathon.”
Finally, my mother speaks. “Max and I have been talking about moving for a long time. We want to live in a larger space. We want more room.”
“You know,” I say, blinking back tears, “when my father left, you started asking me a lot of questions about what to do. You let me help make decisions. When I was littler, that was hard for me. Now I’m used to helping make decisions. Now that you and Max are getting married, is it back to the way it was when you and Dad made all of the decisions?….. Only now it will be you and Max making all of the decisions?”
She just looks at me, really thinking about what I have said. “Oh, Amber. I didn’t realize that I was putting all that responsibility on you. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you did,” I say, “and now you are just going to take it all away. I don’t think that’s fair.”
“Amber, don’t you want to relax and just be a kid again?”
“Too late,” I say. “You can’t just take all of that away…. and anyway, it’s not fair for you to just move a person without her permission or discussion.”
She thinks about it and then nods. “I understand. From now on, Max and I will talk with you about life-concerning decisions involving you.”
“Good,” I say.
Mom continues. “But the reality is that we must move…. for the reasons we’ve already discussed. And we definitely need more room.”
“Why?” I ask.
She explains. “There are many reasons. We need a guest room so that there is room to p
ut people without having them sleep on a living room sofa. Don’t you think that Aunt Pam would like that?”
“I can let Aunt Pam take my room, and I’ll sleep on the sofa. I’ve done that before,” I tell her.
Mom shakes her head. “What about when Max’s sister and his niece come for a visit?”
“I can sleep in the backyard,” I say. “I can put up a tent.”
“If they visit in the winter?”
“I can stay at Brandi’s or Kelly’s.” I smile at her. “Please. Oh, please. Don’t make us move.”
“Honey,” she says, shaking her head.
I have noticed that my mom calls me “honey” when she wants to tell me something that I don’t want to hear.
“It’s not just the guest room. We need more room so that Max and I can have office space. And we need more room because sometime you may have a baby brother or sister.”
Shocked. I am shocked. I put my head down on the table and say nothing for a minute.
If my mother thought that this talk was going to make me less upset, she was wrong.
Raising my head, I say, “Baby? Who said that we were going to have a baby?”
Then I ask a question that I never thought I would ask my mother, my own mother. “Are you getting married early because you are going to have a baby soon?”
She gasps. “Amber. How could you have thought that?”
Why do parents always think that kids never think about or can figure out some things easier than the parents thought they could? I watch television. I listen to people in supermarkets talk. I even heard my dad talk to Steve about the wedding date change, and they wondered if Mom was going to have a baby soon. I don’t tell my mom about that, though.
I do say, “Mom, I thought that you and Max were going to involve me in any decision-making that has to do with me? This definitely affects me.”
She laughs and then stops when she sees that I don’t see anything funny. “Amber, this is really something that is between grownups…. between Max and me.”
“But it affects me. There will be another person, a fourth person in the family,” I say.
“The decision to have a baby is one that adults make,” she says firmly. “Amber, you used to say that you wanted a baby brother or sister.”
Amber Brown Is Green with Envy Page 4
