“Violet, it’s your turn,” Daisy said. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare,” I said miserably. Because I didn’t want to lie if they asked me who I liked. But I definitely couldn’t tell them the truth. Not anymore.
CHAPTER
26
WHO’S SMARTER?
Why are the perfect gifts so hard to find?
It was Sunday afternoon, two days after the sleepover, and I still hadn’t figured out what to get Izzy for her Secret Santa gift. I still believed the best presents didn’t cost any money, but with Christmas only a couple weeks away, I was running out of time. I decided to make a list of Things Izzy Likes:
• STARS
• BOOTS
• SKIRTS
• DONUTS
The list wasn’t much help. I couldn’t exactly purchase a star for her—they kind of belong to everyone, already—and even though I know Izzy likes thrift shopping, I didn’t think she would like someone thrift shopping for her. But I really wanted to get her something that would tell her how happy I was that we were friends again—even if we both liked the same boy.
I was still racking my brains for an answer when Austin texted:
What are you doing right now?
Not much. Going to start working on our essay soon.
You’re doing it all without me? Sweet!
Ha ha . . . I figured since I’m smarter than you, I might as well.
Hmm . . . you’re doing all the work, but we’re both going to get the same grade. NOW who’s smarter? Work on it later. Come over and we can go ice-blocking.
A part of me really wanted to text him back and tell him I’d be right there. But remembering Izzy’s smile on Friday night when she said she liked him stopped me.
Can’t. I have lots of homework to do.
So do I, but you don’t see that stopping me. Where are your priorities?
Next time.
But I wasn’t sure there would be a next time. Izzy had a crush on Austin first, and that meant I couldn’t like him. If your best friend likes someone, and she tells you she likes him, and then you turn around and start liking him, you’re the bad guy. That may not make very much sense, but in middle school, that’s just the way it is.
I’d been thinking about it all weekend, and I really did like Austin. In some ways, I felt like I could talk to him more than anyone—even Izzy. But I was glad to finally be friends—good friends—with Izzy again, and I wasn’t going to let a boy come between us.
I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I didn’t feel like studying, and I also didn’t want to be alone anymore, either.
I picked up my phone again and called Izzy’s house phone. The line was busy, so I had to call her on my walkie-talkie: “Wordnerd to Stargazer, do you copy?”
It took a couple tries, but a few minutes later the walkie squawked to life: “I copy, Wordnerd. What’s up?”
“Want to hang out? I could come over to your house—” I stopped, because I didn’t want to be at Izzy’s house, not since she lived right next door to Austin. “Actually, you could come over to my house. You could help me figure out how to decorate my new room.”
I stared around at the white walls. I still hadn’t hung anything up, and except for my books and clothes, most of my stuff was still in boxes. I guess in a lot of ways, Dad was right: I wasn’t trying to make this my home.
“I can’t come over,” Izzy said, sounding apologetic.
“Why not?”
There was a crackling silence, and at first I thought Izzy had cut out. “Uh . . . I’m sick,” she said.
“Okay. Maybe later if you feel better?”
“Um . . . sure. Maybe later. I’ll call you.”
We said good-bye and I walked downstairs. Melanie, Olivia, and Joey were sitting at the kitchen table, each of them pouring over a list.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Making Christmas lists—I’m taking Joey and Olivia shopping.”
Melanie and Olivia wouldn’t look at me. I knew they were both still upset about the other night, and I figured if I was going to start making an effort, I needed to start somewhere.
“Can I come?” I asked.
Olivia looked up and glared at me. “Don’t you have plans with your friends?”
“Izzy’s sick,” I answered, just as Melanie said, “Olivia, knock it off.” She smiled tentatively at me. “Really, you want to come?”
“Sure,” I replied, remembering what Dad had said about trying harder. “Shopping sounds fun.”
Sometimes a person’s eyes can say things. In this case, I hoped mine said, I’m sorry and I’m trying. I think they did, because Melanie nodded, and said, “Of course you can come. Let’s pack up and get going.”
We drove to Dandelion Square instead of walking, because Melanie didn’t want everyone carrying a bunch of bags home. I rode in the back with Joey.
“Mom gave me some money to buy Dad a present,” he said.
It took me a second to realize that Joey meant my dad, and not Mr. Vanderberg.
“I thought you already gave him a present?” I said.
“Yeah, but I want to get him another one.”
“Really? What are you going to get him?”
“I don’t know.” Joey frowned. “I can’t think of anything.”
“I have some ideas,” I said. “Do you want me to show you a few things he likes?”
Joey nodded happily, and I caught Melanie staring at me in the rearview mirror. As soon as our eyes met, she glanced away quickly. But I was pretty sure her eyes had been saying thank you.
Sometimes you can say a lot without saying anything at all.
After we found a parking space, we went to Barnaby’s Antiques to say hi to Dad. He was busy with customers, so he could only wave at us. After that, we went to Charming Trinkets to pick up a pair of earrings for Emily, Olivia’s friend from her baton-twirling team. I was hoping we’d see Sophia or her mom, but we didn’t. Our next stop was the olive-oil shop so Melanie could get some presents for a couple of teachers at Dandelion Middle. As she finished ringing up her purchases, Joey tugged at my shirt.
“Where should we find a present for Dad?”
I caught Melanie staring at me, waiting for me to answer. This time, I was pretty sure her eyes were saying, I know this is hard, but please be nice to him.
“Harrison’s Hardware,” I answered. “There are lots of things he likes there.”
Harrison’s Hardware is brightly lit with wooden floors strewn with sawdust and aisles that seem to go on forever. They sell a lot more than just hardware items. Everything from wrenches to model airplanes to kitchen gadgets to candles and Christmas decorations. The back of the store is Dad’s favorite, because that’s where they sell penny candy.
“His favorites are the butterscotches and the Christmas-ribbon candy,” I told Joey once I’d led everyone to the candy bins.
Joey counted out the change in his pocket and frowned. “I guess I could get him butterscotches this year, and ribbon candy next year,” he said.
Next year.
Those two words nearly knocked me sideways. I think some part of me had been hoping that our new living arrangement—the five of us together—was temporary. But it wasn’t. Next year Melanie might take us all Christmas shopping again. And the year after that and the year after that—it could be another new pattern, like Mom talked about in her letter.
While Joey was counting out butterscotches and putting them into a plastic bag, we heard a voice from the next aisle over. It belonged to Edith Binchy: “What Mitch Barnaby sees in her, I’ll never understand.”
At that, Melanie, Olivia, and I all froze. Edith couldn’t see us from where we stood, but I peeked quickly around the aisle and saw her. She was standing in front of a candle display talking to a couple of the Knattering Knitters, who were nodding at her enthusiastically.
“Melanie Harmer had her sights set on that man from the moment she met him,” Edith conti
nued.
That was a total lie. I know, because I was actually there the moment Dad and Melanie met. It was a bright, windy day in early June, and Dad and I were taking a tour of Dandelion Middle. Melanie had been crying—over Mr. Vanderberg not remembering to call Joey on his birthday, we found out later. She’d been so upset that she’d bumped right into Dad, and the English essays in her hands went flying into the wind, swirling like a paper snowstorm.
“I’m so sorry!” she’d said as she grabbed wildly at the essays.
“It’s no problem,” Dad had said, and they both crouched down to pick up the ones that had landed on the cement. “We all have bad days sometimes.”
Melanie had given a half-laugh. “Ever feel like you’re having a bad year?”
Melanie wasn’t even looking at Dad as she straightened up the essays. But he was looking at her. “All the time,” he’d said softly.
I remembered that on that day I thought Melanie seemed nice, and I hoped she’d be my English teacher. Of course, that was before Dad had asked her out a month later when they’d bumped into each other again at Don’s Donuts; before they started spending a ton of time together, before the night they made me, Olivia, and Joey meet one another and told us they were Officially Dating.
Edith Binchy didn’t know any of that, and she was flapping her mouth all over town, anyway. I think Melanie could tell I was mad, because she laid a hand on my arm, and said, “Violet, just let it go. It’s not worth it.”
“What do you mean? She’s totally lying, you know she is.”
“I know, but some people you just can’t reason with. And if you go over there, she’ll be sure to tell the whole town how you accosted her when she was just innocently minding her own business.”
“It’s okay, Violet, really—we’re used to it,” Olivia added, and I noticed for the first time that she chewed on her cheek, just like Melanie does sometimes.
“Used to it? Does stuff like this happen a lot?” I asked.
Melanie and Olivia glanced at each other uneasily. “A lot of people in this town really loved your mom,” Melanie said finally. “It’s best to just let it go.”
Grudgingly, I followed them up to the cash register so Joey could pay for the candy. I didn’t understand why people were so upset with Melanie just because they liked Mom. It wasn’t Melanie’s fault Mom had gotten sick and died—even I knew that.
• • •
We were all quiet as we left the store. “Do you guys want to get a slice of pie from the Kaleidoscope?” Melanie said, and I could tell she was trying to cheer us up.
“Yes!” Joey said. “A big one with lots of whipped cream!”
We walked into the café and Melanie told us to find a seat while she ordered from the counter. We slid into a circular booth near the back. I checked my phone; Austin had sent me a text:
Are you finished studying yet? I’m bored. You know you want to hang out with me. We could cross something off your mom’s list.
I was debating whether or not to respond when Olivia suddenly said, “Aren’t those your friends?”
I looked over. Sophia and Izzy were walking across Dandelion Square, their moms following behind them. Sophia, Mrs. Malone, and Mrs. Ramos stopped to admire the town Christmas tree, while Izzy kept moving forward, heading straight for the café.
“Didn’t you say you couldn’t hang out with Izzy today because she’s sick?” Olivia asked. “She doesn’t look that sick to me.”
“She doesn’t,” I agreed.
In fact, Izzy looked better than ever. Instead of her usual tie-dyed skirt and combat boots, she was dressed up in a red-velvet dress. All four of them were dressed up, actually.
Olivia stared at me curiously. “So . . . what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe there’s a really good explanation.”
But from the way Izzy’s expression whitened when she walked into the café and saw Olivia and me, I doubted it.
“I’m going to talk to her,” I said.
Olivia nodded. “Good idea.”
“It’s not what you think,” Izzy said as soon as I approached.
“Oh yeah?” I crossed my arms. “What am I thinking?” When she didn’t immediately answer, I said, “You look great—you must have gotten a lot better real fast.”
“Okay, okay.” She puffed out a breath. “I’m not sick.”
“Shocker,” I said. “So why did you say you were? If you had plans with Sophia, you could have just told me.”
“Because . . .” Izzy sighed. “Because it’s a mother-daughter thing. Mrs. Ramos and my mom got tickets to this stupid play—the one I told you about, remember?—and they are making me go. And I didn’t want to tell you about it because—”
Izzy was known for sticking her foot in her mouth, but this time she stopped herself. It didn’t matter, though, because I knew what she was going to say. The elephant in the room, the thing I never wanted to talk about, because it couldn’t ever be made better: I didn’t have a mother, so I couldn’t do things like have a mother-daughter date with my best friend. All I had was Melanie, who let me crash her mother-daughter date with Olivia. And even if we could read each other’s eyes, it still wasn’t the same.
My phone pinged again. I was pretty sure it was Austin. And suddenly, I couldn’t remember why I didn’t want to hang out with him today.
Izzy was pulling nervously at her dress. “Violet, can we talk—”
“Forget it,” I said, flipping over my phone to text Austin. “Have fun at the play.”
If Izzy could lie to me so she could spend time on a mother-daughter date, I could hang out with Austin and cross a few more items off Mom’s list. Because with her gone, that list was the only thing I had left of her.
CHAPTER
27
HURT FEELINGS
Dear Mom,
My ugly came spilling out again. I got really mad at Izzy a couple days ago. She lied to me about going to a play with Sophia and their moms on a mother-daughter date. I know she did it only because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But it made me mad anyway, and when she tried calling me later that night on the walkie-talkie, I turned it off without saying anything to her.
Then this afternoon, Aunt Mildred asked us all to meet at the Kaleidoscope Café so she could give us another round of charms. As soon as Izzy arrived she started apologizing, and I finally just said that everything was fine.
But everything definitely isn’t fine. I’m not mad at her anymore, but I know I need to tell her that I have a crush on Austin. Especially since Austin and I hung out last night, listening to some of your old records so we could cross it off your list. We met up at Barnaby’s Antiques, and Dad let us listen to the records in an alcove off the shop while we worked on our Egyptian essay. (Okay, while I worked on the essay—Austin mostly wandered around the shop looking to see if Dad had any old comic books for sale.)
When he’d finally finished his search, we listened to Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald, and I couldn’t help tearing up a little. When he asked me what was wrong, I told him they were your favorite musicians. He didn’t make fun of me or think I was a baby. He just asked how many items I still had left to check off. When I pulled out the list and showed him, he said he had an idea for how we could check something else off. I keep wondering what it is.
I’m still enjoying the Charm Club. Aunt Mildred gave us a tiny Christmas present charm and asked us to volunteer for Dandelion Hollow’s annual Wrap-a-Thon. She said she was inspired by your list, so that’s something else I can check off soon. I’m pretty sure I can finish most of it before Christmas. Not all of it, though. I don’t see how I’ll be able to cross off “Make a snow angel,” unless Dad takes me somewhere where it actually snows. I’m working on it, though.
Love always,
Violet
CHAPTER
28
ROASTING MARSHMALLOWS
“Hey, Melanie?” I said as I stepped into t
he kitchen. “Austin just texted me. Can I walk over to his house right now?”
Melanie made a check mark on the paper she was grading. “Are you two working on your project again?”
I considered telling her yes, but decided against it. “Well, no. He said he has an idea for something I could check off Mom’s list.” I figured by now Olivia had told her about Mom’s list.
I’m pretty sure I was right, because Melanie nodded like she knew exactly what I was talking about. “Sure,” she said, and looked up hopefully. “Why don’t you take Olivia with you? She’s upstairs in her room.”
Remember to try, I repeated to myself. “Um, okay,” I said.
“Come in!” Olivia said after I knocked on her bedroom door. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, doing homework.
“Austin invited me over to roast marshmallows at his house,” I said. “Do you want to come? I thought it would be fun if we went together.”
Olivia gave me a look as if to say, Yeah, right. “You mean, my mom thought it would be fun if we went together, right?” she said.
“No,” I said quickly, and Olivia cocked her head. “Okay, fine. Yeah, she did.”
Olivia smirked and went back to her homework. “Maybe next time.” She glanced back up. “But have fun, okay?”
• • •
By the time I’d arrived at the Jacksons, Austin and his dad had already set up a portable fire pit in their front yard. “Ready to roast some marshmallows?” Austin asked as Mr. Jackson lit the fire.
“Definitely,” I said.
“That should be good for a while,” Mr. Jackson said as the fire roared to life. “Holler if you need anything,” he added, before going back inside the house.
“What’s it been like, being by yourself with your dad?” I asked as I took the marshmallow and roasting stick Austin offered.
“All right.” Austin shrugged and made a face. “Except he told me I was going to have to make dinner a couple times a week.”
“Poor you,” I teased. “You’ll have to actually start taking care of yourself for a change.”
The Wondrous World of Violet Barnaby Page 11
