Vivian stopped painting too and looked at me.
“I saw a spirit bear,” I said.
Her eyes went wide. “In the forest?”
“One of July’s cubs,” I said. “It stopped and looked at me, as though it wanted to tell me something.”
“The legend says they were meant to bring hope, new possibilities.”
“I used it for my object of an unusual color. For Frankie.”
Vivian smiled. “Perfect. She needs hopeful reminders.”
She studied my latest painting. “You’ve got it. That’s the swing from our drive to New York, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” Vivian was smiling, the first real smile I’d seen from her since we found her house under a thick layer of mud. “I should have given you paint sooner. Looks like you’ve found your medium.”
Yes. The image was more vivid than what I’d seen in my mind, unlike any of my drawings to this point. I’d only come close to drawing what I wanted, never gone past my hopes.
I grinned at Vivian. “Yeah. I could get used to paint.”
“And cookies?” she asked.
“Definitely cookies.” I followed her into the kitchen. As I went, the thought crystallized. Anger wasn’t getting me anywhere. Vivian was better because she was doing something. I could do that too. I’d work on set pieces and help wherever I was needed. If I just kept pretending I was all right, then eventually I’d convince myself I actually was all right. The plan would work. It had to because I didn’t think I could sit in the middle of this stormy sea for even a second longer without drowning.
From: Sadie Douglas
To: Pippa Reynolds
Date: Saturday, April 14, 7:12 PM
Subject: RE: Ballooning Birthday
Are you kidding me? You’re going up in a hot air balloon with the girls for your birthday?? I so wish I was there. You have to take pictures. Wow!
I’m going to rehearsal tomorrow afternoon to work on sets. I saw Vivian today, and we painted. I LOVE paint, Pips.
I have to go to the Annabelle dinner tomorrow night. I’ve managed to avoid her until now. I’m trying to figure out what I’ll say to her. If I have a lot to talk about, maybe we won’t get into anything uncomfortable. I guess we can talk about bears and her dancing … that’s something, anyway.
Miss you …
Chapter 16
Meaningless Words
You’re late,” Ruth called, bounding over to me as I walked toward the set-building area. We did this every once in a while, pushed our cheerfulness over the top to make each other smile. But her smile faded pretty quickly as she came close enough to see my face.
“Okay, Sadie. What’s up? What happened the other day? I looked for you everywhere, but you were gone. Did I say something wrong?” Tiny frown lines furrowed between her eyebrows, such a contrast to how she’d looked just minutes before when she was talking to Annabelle.
Perfect. Annabelle made everyone smile and I made them frown. My throat closed up. Tears weren’t very far behind. No. I’d decided to act normal until I felt normal, and I wasn’t going to fall apart again. So I forced myself to ask the question, right that minute.
“Are Annabelle and Andrew …?” When my voice cracked, I stopped speaking.
“Are they what?” Ruth asked, confusion clouding her face. Then suddenly, she burst out laughing, catching me totally by surprise. “Sadie!”
“What?”
With hands on hips now, her smile was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “I thought you were upset about Vivian or your mom or something, but this is about Annabelle? Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I …” The words wouldn’t come.
“Well, they’re just friends, Sadie. I promise.” Ruth glanced over at Annabelle, who was motioning for us to join her, Cameron, and Andrew.
“We all want — come on, let me introduce you.” Ruth took my arm.
Penny hurried over from the office. I’d never been so happy to see her. I’d have to meet Annabelle tonight at dinner, but I wanted to do it my own way, on my own terms. I didn’t want to meet her with Andrew, Ruth, and Cameron watching.
“Sadie, I found a volunteer to help you with the sets,” Penny said when she reached us. “Annabelle’s dad offered to cut the boards for all the big pieces.”
I tossed a “Help me!” look at Ruth, who just smiled as if to say, “See? Even her dad is nice.”
“I’d like to schedule him to come as soon as you’re ready with drawings and dimensions. But you’ll need to see the play first, so …”
The music started.
“That’s my cue. Come over when you can — okay, Sadie?” Ruth squeezed my arm and left.
Penny looked closely at my face; I felt naked, exposed.
“I’m fine,” I said before she could ask.
“Did you read my story?” she asked.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I pulled the water-stained journal from my bag. “Thank you. I really loved it.”
The words felt too simple, too light to express what I meant to say.
But Penny winked and said, “I thought you might.”
She took the journal and handed me a list. “You’ll see how we smoothed out the rough parts when you watch the play. This list covers the set pieces we’ll need. We can discuss them at the run-through on Tuesday. Can you come after school?”
“Sure.” I’d decided to distract myself by working on set pieces, so I might as well start as soon as possible.
Until Dad came to pick me up, I pretended to be much busier than I actually was so I wouldn’t have to watch the rehearsal. We hurried home so I’d have time to clean up and get ready for dinner.
As I finished braiding my hair, Dad called upstairs, “Sadie, come talk to Mom!”
I frowned at myself in the mirror. Mom, too? After not talking to her for so long, she was calling tonight?
“Sades,” Dad poked his head in my door and held out the phone. “Mom’s waiting.”
Big breath. First, Mom. Then Andrew and Annabelle. I could do this. I took the phone and watched my face break into a too-big smile in the mirror.
“Mom! How are you feeling?”
Her voice was controlled as she answered, “I’m doing well, Sadie. Really well. They’re putting me back on the treatment today.”
I wanted to ask her about the heart episode. I wanted to ask her if she really thought the treatment was a good idea. But, like always, I said none of these things.
Instead, I pretended everything was all right. “I’m sure it will help you a lot.”
“Dad told me about Vivian’s house. I’m so sorry, Sadie.” The line crackled.
I practiced my everything-is-fine tone. “Well, she’s doing okay, and she may still be able to do a smaller show in New York.”
“I wish I could be there for you, Sadie.”
I nodded and then realized she wouldn’t know that I’d nodded.
The silence stretched long, so I said, “I miss you, Mom.”
Another long silence. She was probably rubbing the bridge of her nose the way she sometimes did when she had to give me bad news.
Finally, she said, “They’re saying I might have to stay until the end of April, Sadie. I’m so sorry.”
I’d heard it was through the end of May. Either they hadn’t told her, or she thought easing me into the extended trip would be better.
“It’s okay, Mom.”
The conversation was so hollow, we might as well have been standing at the bottom of our own canyons, shouting meaningless words to each other that echoed from rock to rock. By the time we heard one another, our words had broken into sounds that made no sense.
Dad stood in the doorway watching me talk, his face hard to read.
“Um, Mom? Dad and I have to go now. We’re going to have dinner with Helen and Andrew and this family who’s staying with them.”
“I heard there was a new girl in town. I hope she’ll be another friend for you
, especially now that Frankie is gone.”
I stared my reflection down as I answered, “Yeah. Maybe. See you soon, Mom.”
Even though I wanted to say “I love you,” I couldn’t do it. Not after such a lie-filled conversation. I’d save those words for a moment when I felt truthful.
“Bye, Sadie.”
I hung up and handed the phone to Dad. “Ready to go?”
“Sadie …” Dad’s voice was full of questions that I didn’t want to answer.
“They’re waiting, right?” I walked past him into the hallway, down the stairs, and out to the Jeep.
I turned up the music during the ride over to Andrew’s house, choosing a country station because I knew I could con Dad into singing along, too. He glanced at me and even cracked a smile, so I knew I was doing well. If I could convince Dad, I could convince anyone.
Chapter 17
Disaster for Dinner
Andrew watched me warily as I stepped into the cabin, probably expecting another blow-up. I ignored him and walked straight over to Annabelle. Dad and the other adults went outside to look at the bears.
“Hi,” I said to Annabelle.
“Hi yourself.” She gave me one of her dimpled smiles.
Up close she was, if possible, even more perfect. Straight, white teeth, and smooth skin frosted with freckles. Not even a single tiny zit. I forced myself to keep smiling.
“Your dance for the play looks really good.”
“You think so?” she asked. “There might be too much spinning. I don’t want anyone to trip and fall.”
“Bea tripped and skinned her knee,” Andrew said. “And Annabelle won’t stop blaming herself.”
Annabelle elbowed him. “And Andrew won’t stop giving me a hard time. He treats me like I’m his little sister or something.”
Or something. I needed an escape plan. “I’ll go see if Helen needs help setting the table.”
“I’ll help.” Annabelle followed me.
As I placed each napkin, she added a fork. “We thought maybe we could come over tomorrow and help you work at Vivian’s house. You’re going to do some clean up?”
I shrugged. “Dad tells me not to get my hopes up. But maybe we can salvage some of the larger sculptures from the yard.”
“It’s just the weight of the mud and the force of the flash flood.” Andrew leaned against the counter as we finished with the utensils and started on the water glasses.
“Well, anyway, I’m going to try.” As I filled the water pitcher, the adults came back in.
“Ah, it smells delicious,” Annabelle’s dad announced, much louder than necessary for the small space. “Doesn’t it smell delicious, Annabelle?”
Annabelle gave her dad a forced smile that I didn’t understand, while her mom kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for helping, sweetheart.”
They were like a family of superheroes. Annabelle’s dad with his booming, I’m-here-to-save-the-world voice, and her mom with her designer jeans and silk tank top that showed off toned arms. She looked like a cop or a spy in the movies, both beautiful and deadly. And then Annabelle, of course, seemed to be best at everything, so far as I could tell.
“So this is the famous Sadie,” Annabelle’s dad said, coming over to shake my hand. “I’m Jack Reid, and this is my wife, Leila.”
Annabelle’s mom clasped my hand between hers. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t imagine calling them anything other than Mr. and Mrs. Reid.
Helen handed me the salad bowl to carry to the table, while she brought over the chicken casserole. “Looks like we’re all set.”
Annabelle sat between her mom and dad, across the table from Andrew, so I ended up sitting between Andrew and Dad. Perfect. Now we could admire her side by side.
“So, I hear I’m helping you build a music box for our Annabelle,” Mr. Reid said to me as we passed the salad around the table.
“Yes.” I hoped a short answer would deflect his attention to someone else.
“Seems difficult to build something big enough to hold a —”
Mrs. Reid interrupted him with a sharp look. “Not that Annabelle’s big …”
“No.” Mr Reid laughed, “Our Annabelle is perfect. She knows that. Casserole?”
Annabelle stared at her hands while he spooned casserole onto her plate.
“Looks like we can open the lake house by next week.” Mrs. Reid smiled brightly around the table. “You’re all welcome to come visit or go boating anytime.”
“Wildflowers are blooming on all the little islands, and it’s a perfect time to go camping,” Mr. Reid said. “We have tons of early campers this year, too. Lots of people who can see our Annabelle’s show.”
“It’s not just my show, Dad.” Annabelle looked over at Andrew before smiling at her dad, but her eyes were different than usual. Still bright, but a little too bright.
Andrew frowned at Annabelle’s plate, which was still full of salad and casserole.
Mr. Reid took a big bite. “This casserole is delicious, Helen.”
“And the veggies are so fresh,” Mrs. Reid added.
Helen smiled. “Well, I slaved away in the kitchen.”
It felt like they were having a conversation beyond what they were saying. I felt so out of it these days, I had no idea if I was just reading too much into things.
Dad might have felt the strange tension too because he changed the subject. “So Sadie told me that one of July’s cubs is a spirit bear.”
Helen and Andrew both spun in their chairs to look at me.
“There hasn’t been a spirit bear in this area for as long as I’ve been here,” Helen said. “Are you sure that’s what you saw, Sadie?”
“She had two cubs with her, one black and one completely white.” I stared down at my fork, wishing I could explain it better.
If Annabelle were describing a spirit bear, she’d probably gush and beam at everyone. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t even look up because tears filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Helen said. “I didn’t mean to pounce on you. I’ve been waiting to see July this season, and I’m astounded by this news. How incredible!”
“What’s a spirit bear?” Mr Reid asked.
“The Canadian First Nations once believed that the all-white spirit bears, who look like ghosts, had mythical powers,” Helen explained. “And they also believed the Creator made them white to remind them of the Ice Age and the troubles they no longer had to face. They’re also known as the Kermode bear, and mostly found in British Columbia.”
“What do you think, Sadie? Did the bear have special powers?” Annabelle asked.
Fortunately, my mouth was full. I don’t know how I would have answered her if it hadn’t been. Andrew jumped in, to my surprise.
“It was probably one of those experiences you can’t really describe.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Must have been incredible.”
I looked down quickly because once again, my eyes filled with tears. I was a mess. Helen seemed to notice my struggle because she quickly changed the subject. As the attention turned away from me, I took a deep breath and shoved my food around my plate. The evening was a failure and dinner was only half over. I’d almost cried twice, totally failing to prove how incredibly happy I was. I felt like Vivian’s turtle but without its protective shell.
It would be a long night.
From: Sadie Douglas
To: Pippa Reynolds
Date: Sunday, April 15, 9:24 PM
Subject: Remember the Hamiltons?
Do you remember Serena? She lived with her mom and dad in that big house on the hill? Remember how perfect everything was in their house? Her walk-in closet organized by color? And the snacks her mom would send to school in a bento box, and each mini-bite looked like it had been created by a professional chef?
That’s what Annabelle’s family is like. Perfect. Uuuuuuuughhhhh. Glad to hear things are better with Alice. Sorry that you feel like you can
’t talk about church with her, though. That must be weird, to have to avoid subjects with the girls. I mean, we never were like that. Just a few more days until your birthday!!!
From: Sadie Douglas
To: Frankie Paulson
Date: Sunday, April 15, 9:30 PM
Subject: Re: Left Behind
It’s weird that you randomly met someone from your new school! Was she nice? Do you think you’ll like it there?
I liked the drawing of the umbrella left behind on a park bench, and your story about someone deciding to walk home in the rain. I like that idea more than someone just forgetting her umbrella. I feel like the sky is crying too, sometimes, when it rains.
Are you okay?
I’ll look for my abandoned object for the scavenger hunt tomorrow. I’m working over at Vivian’s house because we don’t have to go back to school until Tuesday. Monday is a teacher in-service day. The bad news is that Annabelle and Andrew are also coming to help clean up at Vivian’s house.
Chapter 18
Digging
My reflection stared back at me, my eyes determined. Yes. I will go to Vivian’s house today. I will find an abandoned object for Frankie, and I won’t obsess over Andrew and Annabelle. I dropped my forehead against the cold glass and groaned. Sometimes being a girl was lame.
“Sadie,” Dad called from downstairs. “You ready to go?”
I lifted my head and stared myself down. “You can do this, Sadie.”
“Sadie?”
“Coming!”
Higgins followed me downstairs, nosing my hand all the way. Even though Dad pointed out all the reasons we shouldn’t bring Higgins to the cleanup, I promised to watch him and give him a bath afterward and be completely responsible. I needed someone to bury my face in when Annabelle became too much. Higgins sat on my lap with his head hanging out the Jeep window, tongue and ears flapping, as we drove. I held my arms up to block the drool flying out of his mouth, but he kept turning to me and giving me a “What’s your problem?” look, making me laugh too hard to shield myself.
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Dad said. “I’ve been worried about you, Sades.”
Waves of Light Page 8
