The Dirt Diary

by Anna Staniszewski

  “That’s nice,” I say. “It’s like a way to remember him.”

  “I guess. You know what the worst part is? I can’t even talk to anyone about it. My mom thinks it’s her fault somehow, and my friends…” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I don’t even think I have friends anymore.”

  I want to laugh too. “Well, you’re not alone there.”

  She looks at me. “What about that Parasol girl you’re always hanging out with?”

  “We had a fight.” Feeling a little braver, I perch on the edge of Caitlin’s bed, though I stay as far away from her as possible. “Is that what happened with you and Briana?”

  Caitlin shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t a fight. I don’t know if Briana even realizes we’re not friends anymore. All she cares about is softball and guys and herself.” She wipes her eyes again. “You know what she said to me when I told her my dad died? She said I was lucky because now my mom would give me all kinds of pity presents to try to make it up to me. She actually wanted me to be happy about it!”

  “Wow,” I say, but really, after spending a half hour scooping thumbtacks off Briana’s floor, it doesn’t surprise me one bit.

  “I guess when stuff like that happens, you find out who your actual friends are,” Caitlin goes on. “I thought I could at least count on Steve, but even he’s gotten different lately.”

  “Steve Mueller?” I think again of the ketchup on Andrew’s window.

  She nods, grabbing a tissue off her nightstand. “Our moms have been friends forever, so we’ve known each other since we were born. We were even supposed to go on our first date a couple months ago, but then my mom got the call about my dad and I had to cancel. And before I knew it, Briana had snatched Steve up for herself. She didn’t even like him before that. She just wanted him because she knew I liked him.”

  “Why would you even want to be friends with her?” I can’t help asking.

  “We used to have fun together when we were kids. I mean, Briana’s always had a mean streak, but it didn’t used to be so bad. But now…” She sighs and dabs at her red nose with the tissue. “Anyway, you don’t have to sit here listening to me whine. I know you have work to do.”

  “Oh,” I say, getting to my feet. “Well, good luck.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s the best I can do.

  “Thanks,” she says. “And, you know, thanks for listening. I guess you’re not a total freak.”

  “Um, thanks.”

  I’m surprised to see her cheeks turn bright pink. “Sorry. I always say the wrong thing.”

  “You—you do?” I can’t believe it. Caitlin always seems so sure of herself, like she’s the smart one and everyone around her is dirt. Is she really as insecure as I am?

  “Anyway. Thanks,” she says.

  I nod and leave her room. As I shut the door behind me, I’m still in shock that I just had something like a heart-to-heart with Caitlin Schubert. If I was wrong about her and about Steve, who else have I been wrong about?

  Chapter 34

  On our way home that afternoon, Mom is singing along with the radio to a pop song I’ve always thought she hated. While I’m completely drained after such a long and crazy day, she seems like a cheerful ladybug. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her since our fight.

  “What’s up, Mom?”

  “Hmm?” she says, her mind clearly somewhere else.

  “Why are you so happy all of a sudden?”

  “Is that so unusual?”

  “Um, yeah, these days it is.” As good as she is at staying upbeat, I haven’t seen Mom genuinely happy since Dad left. And, now that I think about it, long before that. She’s always been so focused on making sure my dad and I were taken care of that she never laughed or had any actual fun.

  “Well, I guess I had a good day, that’s all.”

  “Does cleaning really put you in this good of a mood?” I ask.

  Mom lets out a frustrated sigh. “All right, Rachel, if you must know, I’m happy because Robert called this morning and asked me out on a date.”

  I blink at her, sure I heard wrong. “Mr. Hammond…?”

  “We’re going out tomorrow. He’s taking me to a museum and out to lunch.”

  My mind is swirling so fast that I don’t know what to say first. What finally comes out is: “A museum? Since when do you like stuff like that?”

  “I’ve always enjoyed art. I just haven’t had much time to appreciate it.”

  “But you can’t go on a date. Have you forgotten you’re married? It’s wrong!”

  “No, it isn’t wrong,” says Mom. “Your father and I are officially separated now. The lawyer sent the paperwork the other day.”

  “What?” I practically shriek. “And when did you plan on telling me this?”

  “You’ve haven’t exactly been easy to talk to recently. I was waiting for the right time.”

  It feels like my lungs are about to burst. “So you’re just going to replace Dad with Mr. Hammond?”

  “Rachel, it’s just a date!”

  “You can’t go out with him, Mom. He’s old! He’s like a geriatric patient.”

  She looks at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Haven’t you noticed?” My face is burning from embarrassment, but I have to tell her. “The diapers? I saw them in his bathroom, tons of them. He’s old, Mom. You can’t go out with someone like that.”

  Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “So you’re the one who’s been spreading that terrible rumor around school?”

  “What? No!”

  “Rachel Lee, I know you have poor judgment sometimes, but how could you do something like that? The poor man has been through enough with his wife gone, and now you’re telling everyone he wears diapers?”

  “No! I—”

  “For your information, those undergarments belong to his elderly mother. She stays with him during the winter. Not that you really deserve an explanation.”

  “But, Mom, it wasn’t me. It was Marisol!”

  Mom shakes her head, her lips a tight line. “Rachel, if you expect me to believe that Marisol would do something so childish, you really must think I’m a fool. She is not the kind of girl who would spread rumors.”

  Well, that shuts me right up. Because Mom is right. Marisol would never do that. It had to be someone else, someone who wanted to get in with the popular crowd. Someone like Angela Bareli.

  “I promise, it wasn’t me, okay?” I say. “Please trust me.”

  Mom sighs. “I do trust you, but the way you’ve been acting recently, I barely know you anymore. I understand you’re upset about your father leaving us, but acting out isn’t going to bring him back.”

  She pushes her hair away from her face, and that’s when I notice it. The wedding band that’s been on her finger for as long as I’ve been alive is gone.

  “Rachel?” Mom says. “Are you listening to me?”

  I blink. “What?”

  “I said that I promise things will get easier. For now, I think we’ve been doing just fine without your father.”

  “Maybe you are, but I’m not!”

  “Honey, I know you love him, but he’s never been the most dependable person. I think it’s time you realized that.”

  I turn away and stare out the window. It feels like someone just let all the air out of my body. If Mom is ready to move on, then maybe bringing Dad back won’t make any difference anymore. Maybe it really is over.

  Chapter 35

  While Mom is out on her date the next day, I can’t stop pacing around the house. I consider calling Marisol and telling her that I know she didn’t spread the rumor about Mr. Hammond. But then again, she told Angela about the diapers after I swore her to secrecy, so she isn’t totally blameless. Besides, I’m still ticked off at her, even though I really miss her.

  I also know I have to ca
ll Dad and tell him I can’t come down to Florida. Not only does it seem like Mom doesn’t want him back, but there’s no way I can save up enough money in the week I have left, and banking on the bake sale is crazy since I still haven’t figured out a recipe. I’ll have to pay fees and stuff to cancel the ticket, but at least I have enough cleaning money to cover those.

  I go to pick up the phone to call Dad but don’t actually dial his number. I just can’t imagine telling him the truth. So instead I decide to make some cream puffs since I’m completely sick of brownies. It won’t get me any closer to figuring out my problems, but maybe it’ll make me feel better.

  As I’m getting the ingredients together, my phone rings. My pulse gets all fluttery when I see it’s Dad calling. He must have psychically known that I need to talk to him.

  “What are you up to, Roo?” he asks.

  “Just making some cream puffs,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

  He whistles. “You bake fancier things every time I talk to you.”

  “They’re actually not that hard to make.” I start explaining the process, but Dad just laughs.

  “You know I’m useless in the kitchen, Roo. What you’re saying is pure gibberish to me. You’ll just have to make me some of those cream puffs when you come down here.”

  “About that…” I take a deep breath, knowing I have to tell him the truth. If I can explain things and have him on my side, he might be able to convince Mom to go easy on me. “Dad, I have to—”

  “There’s something I want to tell you,” he says over my tiny whisper. “You’re going to find out for yourself when you come down here, so I guess I should just fill you in now.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, honey. The thing is…that I met someone down here. She’s a very sweet lady, and I think you’ll like her a lot.”

  Wait, what? He what? What?

  “I know this is a bit of a surprise,” Dad goes on. “It wasn’t anything I planned, but life is funny like that sometimes. Now I don’t want you to be upset. And please don’t mention anything to your mom, at least not yet. I want to be the one to tell her. Will you let me do that?”

  I try to breathe.

  “Roo?”

  It’s over. All over. If my mom is on a date and my dad met someone else, then our family is really gone. “So you’re not coming back,” I whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Roo. Not this time.”

  It takes me a second to understand what he said. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?”

  He lets out a long sigh. “I guess you were too young to remember, but your mother and I took a break a few years back. You must have been in kindergarten.”

  “What are you talking about?” I might not remember much from when I was five, but wouldn’t I remember my parents splitting up?

  “After a few weeks, your mother and I decided to give it another shot. For your sake. But it’s just not going to work this time.”

  He keeps talking, but I’m not listening anymore. I can’t believe it. No wonder Mom has been so determined to move on with her life. No wonder she keeps telling me my father can’t be trusted.

  I realize Dad is saying my name over and over. “Rachel, are you still there?”

  The room is swaying around me. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d left before?”

  “It was only for a month,” he says. “You were so young that you barely knew what was going on. We hoped you’d just forget.”

  I had forgotten, but maybe part of me hadn’t. Maybe that’s why I was so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing all the time. Maybe I’d thought my dad leaving had something to do with me.

  “Who—who is she?” I ask, trying to keep the tears back. Because once they start, they might never stop. “What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Ellie. She was one of my first scuba clients.”

  “Did you move there for her?”

  “No! I only met her after I was down here. Trust me, Roo, I never…”

  I stop listening, not wanting to hear anything else he has to say. How can he think I’ll be all right with him finding someone else? He left us behind and is going to start a life with someone new. And here I was stupidly thinking that I could fly down to visit him and patch everything up. As if one little trip could make any difference. Marisol was right.

  “Roo? Are you still there?”

  “I’m not coming to visit.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Why not?” I repeat, my voice shrill to my own ears. “Are you serious? You can’t just leave me and think I’ll be fine with it. You can’t just dump Mom and start seeing someone else and think I’ll be fine with it. You can’t—”

  “That’s not what I did, and you know it, Roo. I thought you were mature enough that I could be honest with you. But I guess I was wrong.”

  “I’m the one who’s immature?” I yell. “You’re the one who abandoned your family to go start a business you don’t know anything about!”

  “Rachel—”

  “I’ve been going crazy trying to save up the money to come see you, and now it’s all for nothing!”

  “Rachel—”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, Dad. Mom was right. We’re better off without you.”

  Before he can say another word, I hang up and slam my cell phone down on the counter. It skids off the edge and lands on the floor with a dull thud. I probably just broke my phone, but I don’t even care.

  I leave the half-made cream puffs on the counter, run to my room, and throw myself on my bed. I’ve never been so furious with my dad in my entire life. Before I met Marisol, Dad was always the one I went to when I was upset, but this time there’s no one to talk to.

  The tears threaten to burst out of me, but I squeeze my pillow until my eyes stop burning. Dad isn’t worth crying over, not anymore. I did enough of that when he left.

  It was stupid of me to think I could fix things, but it turns out Mom has the right idea. It’s time to think ahead and not focus on the things we can’t change.

  With that thought bouncing around in my head, I go back out to the kitchen and put the cream puffs in the oven. Then I do something totally crazy, as if an alien has possessed my body. I grab my phone off the floor (luckily it still works) and dial the Rileys’ number.

  “Hello?” Briana’s voice says.

  I almost hang up right there, but that strange alien force is still controlling me. “Hi, is Evan there?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” And that’s it. No ridicule. No insults. She had no idea it was me. Maybe Briana Riley doesn’t have a humiliation superpower after all.

  “Hello?” says Evan.

  “Hey, it’s Rachel,” I say, my voice quivering a little bit.

  “Oh, hi. How are you?”

  “Not great,” I say. “I have a ton of cream puffs and no one to eat them with. And there’s an episode of Pastry Wars starting in an hour, and I have no one to watch it with.”

  “Wow, that’s quite the pickle you’re in.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I guess the least I can do is come over and help you out. I just need your address.”

  As I give him directions to my house, the reality of what I’m doing hits me like a frying pan to the face. Oh my goldfish. I just invited a guy over to hang out with me. And I did it without having a complete giggling fit or a loss of bodily functions. And he actually said yes! Okay, so he has a girlfriend. It’s not a date. But that doesn’t matter. I just need a friend, and it turns out Evan actually falls into that category.

  Chapter 36

  When Evan rings the doorbell, I nearly have a heart attack. I’ve never had a guy over to my house, not even to work on a school project or anything. In fact, I have no idea how my mom would feel about me having a boy over. But I decide not to worry about that right now.

&
nbsp; “Hi,” I say after I open the door. My cheeks hurt from the crazy grin on my face. Calm down, I tell myself. You don’t want to scare him off.

  “Hey,” says Evan. “Are you going to let me in?”

  “Oh.” I realize I’m just standing in the doorway, staring at him. I let him inside and lead him into the kitchen. I must have been channeling my mom because I’ve spent the past half hour furiously cleaning the house in preparation for Evan’s visit, even though it was already pretty spotless.

  “Those cream puffs look amazing,” Evan says. He turns back to me, and that’s when he must notice the misery I’m trying to hide. “Are you okay?”

  I mean to lie and tell him that I’m fine, but I find myself saying, “My dad met another woman. He’s not coming back.”

  “Wow, I’m really sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I’m surprised to discover that I don’t, not at all. I said all I had to say to my dad. “Actually, I kind of just want to watch TV and get my mind off things.”

  “Fair enough,” says Evan.

  But as we start to watch the show, I have a hard time keeping my mind on the elaborate pastries. All I can think about is what Dad said about leaving when I was a kid. That’s why Mom tried so hard to move on, because she’d been through it before, and this time she knew he’d left for good.

  “Rachel, are you okay?” Evan asks.

  I snap back to reality and realize the credits of Pastry Wars are rolling and that I missed pretty much the whole show.

  “No. I mean yeah. I guess I’m just distracted.” And then I find myself telling him all about the phone conversation I had with my dad. “Sorry,” I say when I’m done. “I shouldn’t have invited you over when I’m such a mess.”

  Evan looks at me. “I don’t think you’re a mess. In fact, I think you’re pretty awesome.”

  My face goes boiling hot, but for once it isn’t from being mortified. I can’t stop grinning as we go back to watching TV. As angry as I am about everything that my dad has put my family through, I’m glad that at least something good has come of it all.