“Sorry,” Pallas said, “you just look so funny.” The laughter cleared the air, and suddenly, Xochi knew what Pallas was going to say. “The thing is,” Pallas continued, “I’m getting too old for a governess.”
“Pallas, you shouldn’t blame Xochi,” Leviticus said.
“If I were to blame someone,” Pallas said, “it would not be Xochi. Lucky for you, I’ve decided blame is pointless.”
“They didn’t do anything, did they?” Aaron’s forehead was scrunched. “I mean, they’re crushed out and all, but weren’t they, like—ow!”
“Aaron!” Bubbles hissed. “Shut up!”
“It’s okay,” Pallas said. “I know Xochi asked you to keep things from me in order to protect me. But it’s okay, you guys. It might have worked when I was ten or eleven. Now it’s too late. And it’s not like anything has really changed.”
“I don’t think that’s fair,” Io said.
Anger bloomed then faded from Pallas’s face. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “You’ve changed. And Pad. He’s not bringing home floozies anymore, as far as I can tell.”
“I’m not.”
“And we’ve all agreed,” Kiki said. “No more crazy parties.”
“Does anyone else see her suitcase?” Bubbles turned to Pallas. “Sweetie, where are you going with that thing? You just got home!” Bubbles couldn’t wipe her tears away fast enough to hide them.
Pallas dropped her suitcase and knelt by Bubbles’s chair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry I made you worry.” She laid her head in Bubbles’s lap.
“I’m sorry, too.” Bubbles lifted Pallas’s chin to meet her eyes. “I didn’t see you. I didn’t see you were changing. I didn’t notice you’d grown up.”
“None of us did,” Leviticus said. He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses.
“Pal, how long did you last before you caved?” Aaron asked.
Pallas raised her face, laughing and crying at the same time. “Four in the morning. Did you guys bet?”
“I wouldn’t let them!” Bubbles said.
“They did it anyway.” Kiki laughed. “Pad, you owe Aaron twenty bucks and an oil change.”
“I underestimated your fortitude,” Pad told Pallas. “Never again.”
Pallas giggled. Xochi’s shoulders dropped several inches at the sound. “What about the suitcase, though?”
“I’m going to Capitola with Nora and Anna for a few days. Nora said I should ask you guys. It’s okay, right?”
“Does Nora drive a blue Volvo wagon?” Aaron asked.
“I think so,” Pallas said. She went to join him at the kitchen window. “Yes, that’s her.”
“Wow,” Leviticus said. “Nice last-minute ask, Pal.”
Pallas shot him an icy look and pressed her lips together.
“I’ll go and talk to her,” Io said heading out the kitchen door. “I want to find out where you’re staying.”
“When will you be back?” Bubbles asked.
“Tuesday,” Pallas said. “I promise.” She hugged Bubbles and Kiki joined in. She nodded to Leviticus but hugged Pad and Aaron. She stopped at Xochi’s chair.
“Love and luck go with you,” Xochi said, squeezing Pallas’s hand.
“Love and luck go with you, too.” Pallas picked up her suitcase and walked out of the kitchen.
No one stirred. Xochi strained to hear Io’s and Nora’s voices. A giggle rose above the robins in the garden from Pallas or Anna, she couldn’t tell which.
Kylen came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He surveyed the faces around the table. “You guys, stop. She’s fine.”
“She hates me,” Leviticus said.
“For now.” Kiki nodded. “Not forever.”
“She seemed . . . I don’t know,” Bubbles said. “She seemed all right. It so was mean to let her think we didn’t know. She must’ve been miserable!”
“Dude!” Aaron said. “I just figured out who Anna is. The girl with the pink roller skates and spiky hair, right? That kid is so punk rock.”
“Yeah, she’s got great fashion sense,” Kiki said. “I wonder if she’s an artist?”
“She must be,” Bubbles said. “And you know, being a teenager is hard. Pal’s gonna need a friend her own age. Anna is super cute!”
“You people are mad,” Pad said. “I’ve got five sisters, and there’s nothing cute about teenage girls. Nothing at all.”
“Are you insulting the governess?” Kylen said.
“The governess,” Pad said, “is wise beyond her years. Pallas had a sleepover, people. She has a friend. Mary Poppins here deserves a freaking promotion.”
“I think I just got the opposite of a promotion.”
“Oh, no,” Kiki said. “Did Pallas just fire you?”
“Dude, she fired all of us!” Aaron said.
The kitchen was silent. Crows called from the backyard. Leviticus stood, stretched and started mixing the pancake batter. Kiki sent Pad to the garage for the box of grapefruit she’d gotten at the farmers’ market. Bubbles put her feet up on Aaron’s lap and pilfered the Sunday Chronicle.
“Shove over.” Kylen sat next to Xochi in Io’s empty chair.
“Sitting by me? That’s a first.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
Xochi picked up a section of the paper and sipped her perfect coffee. “You want to go the movies later?”
“What, with you and Romeo?”
“Who said he’s going?” Xochi said.
“Am I invited?” Leviticus asked.
“Yes.” The word hung in the room for a lone moment.
Pad sat down with a fresh cup of coffee. “I’ll go. I’ve seen almost everything, though.”
“You pick, then.” Xochi handed him the movie listings.
“Aaron, we should go, too.” Bubbles said. “You need a mellow day to get over your cold.”
Xochi reached for the comics, but Kylen intercepted her. He held her wrist. His eyes clouded over—his premonition face. “Hey!” Xochi pulled her hand away. “Mind your own business.”
“Afraid I’ll tell you your future?” Kylen smiled. Were his incisors more pointed than normal? At least half coyote. That’s what Loretta would have said.
“I just want to be surprised.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Kylen said, handing over the comics. “You will be.”
THE END
Acknowledgments
If Austin Wells hadn’t invited me to join his 2008 NaNoWriMo class, this book would not exist. I will always be grateful for his friendship and for helping me find my calling.
Thank you to my agent, Hannah Fergesen, for her vision, ambition and fierce feminism and to my editor, Amara Hoshijo, who completed our trio of weird sisters with her editorial magic. The stunning cover and interior of All of Us with Wings is the work of Soho Art Director Janine Agro and artist Whitney Salgado. Thank you to Alexa Wejko, Virgo publicist extraordinaire and to everyone at Soho for agreeing to publish my book.
In the years it took to write All of Us with Wings, I was lucky to find some excellent compatriots. Thank you, Kathe Izzo, for the accountability and encouragement. Thank you, Sherry Okamura for making me write that play and reading the very first draft of this book. Thank you to Don Babb, the first real writer I ever knew and to Diane Babb, my second mom. Thank you, Laura Fay Golston, for loving this story and reminding me who I wrote it for.
Thank you to the Squaw Valley Community of Writers and my cronies from Group Six, with extra thanks to Yeo Wei Wei and Louise Marburg and her tarot deck.
I’m grateful to Hedgebrook for the radical hospitality and to Ruth Ozeki for her continued generosity and for connecting me with wonderful freelance editor Molly Schulman. Hedgebrook also brought Brownyn Jones into my life. Thanks to all of you for y
our help.
Thanks and love to my Portland writing community and to Christine Toth for over twenty years of friendship, inspiration, and kitchen-witch hospitality.
Muchas gracias to Las Musas marketing collective. I am honored to be in your coven.
I’m not sure how I ever did without Tehlor Kay Mejia. Her belief in All of Us with Wings and unique personal stardust pulled this book into the light. To my favorite top-secret debut group—I see you chicas out there cutting class behind the school. Claribel, Nina, and Tehlor, can you please report to the assistant principal’s office?
My forty-year friendship with Talese Babb provided the best education in pretend-playing a writer could wish for. I can’t wait to see our books whispering to each other on the shelves! To my aunts, uncles, and cousins—the scenes with the family joking at the kitchen table are all for you. To my mom, Anita Johansen, who read every single draft of this book. Her belief in me helped me believe in myself. To my father, Patrick Smith, who never got to see this day, but who would have loved it most of all, and to Nana and Grandpa for teaching me the meaning of home and unconditional love.
To MK Chavez whose friendship has been one of the great gifts of my life and to Connor and Sayre Quevedo—our found family inspired so much of the family in this book.
My daughters and my little cousin Jamie grew up with this book and lent their various charms to my writing of Pallas. When I started, Angelika was too young to even look at this book without a chaperone. In the end, she became my most trusted editor and advisor. Thank you, Jelli, for your patience, insight, and brilliance. My oldest daughter, Luciana, has always been my truth-teller and taste accountant. Thank you for encouraging me to work even when it conflicted with your personal interests and for bringing Berwin into my life. Every debut writer should have access to a stress relief Corgi.
Thank you to my own furry muse, Stella, who has been by my side for every word of this novel and to the Siamese cats I have known and loved.
And finally, thank you to my husband, Carl, who listened to the world’s longest bedtime story even though there were no car chases, moved my enormous lucky desk seven times, never stopped believing I’d be published, never stopped loving and supporting me, and still makes me laugh every single day after twenty-eight years. The luckiest day of my life was the day we met.
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