“Okay, what happened with Peter?” Zinnie asked—she couldn’t wait another second.
“It didn’t go well,” Marigold said, resting her chin in her hand.
“Is Peter not your boyfriend anymore?” Lily asked as she bounded back into the kitchen with the paper.
Marigold shook her head.
“Someone has good ears!” Aunt Sunny said as she took some lemon halves out of the fridge and brought them to the table.
“What?” Zinnie said.
“So he can be mine?” Lily asked.
“Sorry, Lily. He has a new girlfriend,” Marigold said.
“Oh dear,” Aunt Sunny said, shaking out a white tablecloth with little blue flowers embroidered on it.
“I don’t really want to talk about . . . the details,” Marigold said. “I’d rather clean tablecloths.”
“All right,” Aunt Sunny said. “We’re going to look for stains and treat them with lemon juice and salt. We’ll let the tablecloths and napkins sit tonight and wash them early tomorrow. See? Like this.” Aunt Sunny located a faint stain in the center of the tablecloth and rubbed a lemon half on it, and then she shook some salt on it.
“Will you help me with the flowers, Aunt Sunny?” Lily asked, handing Aunt Sunny the paper.
“Certainly,” Aunt Sunny said, opening up a big cookbook to a page in the middle and placing a piece of paper inside. “Now carefully arrange your impatiens right here—make sure they don’t touch one another or they’ll stick together.” Lily placed her flowers on the page and Aunt Sunny placed another piece of paper on top of them and then shut the cookbook and put another, heavier, cookbook on top. “We’ll leave them there for a month to dry out.”
“But I won’t be here in a month,” Lily said.
“I’ll be sure to send them to you,” Aunt Sunny said. “But if you don’t give them at least a month, they won’t preserve well. And you want to remember this summer for a long time, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Lily said. “I can be patient.”
“Okay, now it’s your turn,” Aunt Sunny said, opening another big cookbook for Lily. “Do the same with the forget-me-nots.”
As Lily started the process again, Zinnie didn’t think she was capable of waiting much longer to find out who Peter’s girlfriend was. “I’m not asking for details, but I need to know—who could Peter like more than you?” Zinnie asked, taking a tablecloth from the pile and opening it. “Seriously, who?”
“A girl named Lindsey,” Marigold said. She’d found a big yellowish stain on an ivory-colored tablecloth and she vigorously ran a lemon half over it. “She’s on the sailing team.”
“You need to get him back,” Zinnie said, handing her the salt. “We need to come up with a plan.”
“He seems to really like her,” Marigold said. Her jaw clenched as she shook more than enough salt onto the stain.
“I think that’s plenty, dear,” Aunt Sunny said, taking the tablecloth away and putting it in a laundry basket at the end of the table. “We can put all the treated tablecloths and the ones without stains in here.”
“You need to sing to Peter. Like this.” Lily paused her flower arranging, tucked her thumbs in her armpits to make wings, and made an O with her lips. Then she sang a weird, throaty song. Aunt Sunny and Zinnie laughed, but Marigold seemed to miss the humor. Lily took a bow and smiled proudly. “That’s what the male shorebirds do when they want a girlfriend. We learned all about birds today at camp.”
“I don’t think that would work,” Marigold said. “I’m not a shorebird.”
“Or a male,” Zinnie said.
“Did you ever like someone who didn’t like you back?” Marigold asked Aunt Sunny.
“Certainly,” Aunt Sunny said, smoothing out a pale-yellow tablecloth with scalloped edges. “Horace Zanks.”
“Horace?” Lily asked, bursting into giggles.
“I think you make these names up,” Marigold said. “Last summer you told me about someone named Stanley Toots.”
“Oh, the Tootses were a very prominent family in these parts until the youngest Toots, the very Stanley I told you about, married a sporty young woman named Sissy, sold the family estate, and moved to Africa.”
“Look!” Lily said, pointing to her flowers, which were spaced evenly on the paper.
“Well done,” Aunt Sunny said. “Now place the second piece of paper on top of them and close the book.”
“Stanley and Sissy Toots?” Marigold asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. Aunt Sunny grinned and nodded.
“But what about Horace?” Zinnie asked. Lily laughed again at the name.
“Laugh all you want,” Aunt Sunny said as she handed Lily a stack of napkins and a lemon half, “but Horace broke many a heart in this town. Handsome Horace, we called him.”
“How old were you when you fell for Handsome Horace?” Zinnie asked as she examined green linen napkins with an ivory trim. She was curious about when most people found a boyfriend or girlfriend.
“I was thirteen,” Aunt Sunny said.
“And how did you know you liked him in that way?” Zinnie asked.
“I just knew,” Aunt Sunny said. “He made my heart go pitter-patter, pitter-patter.” She tapped her hand on her chest.
“Like butterflies in your stomach?” Zinnie asked.
“Exactly. I can see him now, with his wavy brown hair and nicely fitting dungarees.”
Zinnie’s heart had gone pitter-patter when she’d seen Max in the backyard the other day. But didn’t it always go pitter-patter when she was happy?
“He didn’t like you back?” Marigold asked.
“I asked him to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me and he said no, even though he didn’t have a date yet,” Aunt Sunny said.
“What’s a Sadie Hawkins dance?” Zinnie asked, holding up a delicate and lacy tablecloth that had been very well preserved. She put it in the laundry basket.
“That’s a dance where the girls ask the boys to be their dates,” Aunt Sunny said. “Of course, that happens all the time now. But back in those days it was the boys who asked the girls.”
“Did it hurt your feelings when he said no?” Marigold asked.
“It did. I was very blue about the whole thing. I moped around for a week at least. But he had eyes for Karla Nickerson. All the boys did. She was what we called a knockout.”
“When I get a boyfriend, I’m going to call him my puppy,” Lily said as she rubbed a stain out of a napkin.
“That’s a good name,” Aunt Sunny said.
“So you didn’t go to the dance?” Marigold asked.
“Of course I did! I took my friend Bill. He had a quick wit and fast feet. He was a very good dancer, so I knew I’d at least have fun. Bill and I danced the night away. We did the jitterbug, the Lindy, the West Coast swing, the bop, and the twist. And of course we boogie-woogied. Oh, we had fun! Poor Karla Nickerson couldn’t put one foot in front of the other without tripping. She and Horace sat in the corner all night.”
“Did Horace like you when he saw you dancing with Bill?” Zinnie asked.
“He asked me to go for a stroll the next Saturday,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Did you?” Zinnie asked.
“I did. We walked along the harbor on a lovely winter afternoon.”
“So it turned out he did like you?” Marigold asked. “Once he saw you having so much fun with another boy?”
“I like to think that Horace became interested in me because he saw me really being myself, dancing and laughing and whooping it up with Bill. Anyway, I learned on that walk that Horace wasn’t very bright. I lost interest. I was glad that he had his looks to fall back on.”
“And those butterflies in your stomach just . . . flew away?” Zinnie asked.
“That’s the thing about butterflies. They don’t stay put for long, do they? They flutter around one flower, then they flutter around another.”
“They’re eating,” Lily said. “Butterflies feed on nectar and pollen.”
“You are learning so much,” Aunt Sunny said, and holding up the basket of linens, she added, “and we have treated all our linens. Tomorrow we’ll wash and hang them.”
“What happened to Bill?” Zinnie asked. “Did he ever become your boyfriend?”
“We dated for a few weeks in high school, but it turned out we were better off as friends. We’re still in touch,” Aunt Sunny said, yawning.
“Would you ever get back together with him, like if things don’t work out with Tony for some reason?” Zinnie asked.
“That’s a weird thing to say,” Marigold said.
“Don’t you worry, Zinnie. Weddings bring up all sorts of emotions in people, but you can rest assured that things are going to work out with Tony. He’s a wonderful man and he brings me a lot of happiness. Now, I don’t know about you girls, but I’m about ready to pack up my tent. Why don’t we all get in our pj’s and I’ll show you a postcard Bill sent me from Peru.”
26 • The Lost Art of Hanging the Wash
“You have to hang the tablecloths with the wind at your back,” Aunt Sunny said the next morning. She was demonstrating how to pin one of the freshly washed tablecloths to the clothesline that hung between two posts in the backyard. Zinnie, Marigold, and Lily watched. Zinnie had woken up early, and she and Aunt Sunny had washed most of the tablecloths and napkins in the delicate cycle of the washing machine. They’d washed some of the lacy ones in the sink and rolled them in towels to remove the excess water. Aunt Sunny continued, “Otherwise the tablecloth will wrap around and you’ll get all tangled up, not to mention wet.”
Zinnie nodded as if she were paying rapt attention, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Tony. She hadn’t yet been able to discuss what she’d overheard with Marigold and she really needed to. With any luck, she’d only have to wait a few more minutes. Lily was all packed and ready to go to camp, her Princess Arabella lunch box in her hand. Aunt Sunny had made sure to give Lily several extra cookies so that she’d have plenty to share. Lily had packed a pendant with a pressed flower inside so that she could show the kids at camp an example of the project she was working on at home. Now Zinnie was just waiting for Aunt Sunny to finish explaining what she called “the lost art of hanging the wash.”
“And it would be best if you two worked together so these tablecloths, which we’ve just made so nice and clean, don’t touch the ground,” Aunt Sunny said, handing Zinnie a corner. “Zinnia, dear, you take one end and I’ll take the other.” With a sure hand, Aunt Sunny pinned one corner of a white cotton tablecloth with a wooden pin, and Zinnie pinned the other. The tablecloth flapped in the early-morning sunshine like a loose sail. “It’s a perfect day for hanging the wash. We have a good southeasterly breeze, and the bright sunshine will get rid of any lingering stains.” Aunt Sunny checked her watch. “I have to get to work and Lily needs to get to camp. We’ll see you both this afternoon. Don’t forget that the band will be rehearsing here later. Max is going to arrive a little early to work on the platform, so you should expect him around ten or so.”
Zinnie and Marigold waved good-bye to Sunny and Lily. As soon as they were out of sight, Zinnie told Marigold what she’d heard. “I asked Aunt Sunny if Tony could just take the property once they were married, and she said that he couldn’t.”
“Then none of this makes any sense. Tony is so nice. Are you sure you heard him right?”
“I mean, I think so. He called her an ‘old girl’ and a ‘fixer-upper’ and said something about putting on a ‘good act’ until the wedding.”
“I know!” Marigold said. “Sometimes people call a boat or a car a girl’s name. Maybe he’s fixing up a car or a boat as a present for her?”
“I guess that’s possible,” Zinnie said.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Marigold said.
“Maybe you’re right,” Zinnie said. It did make sense. “See, this is why I needed to talk to you so badly last night. But you fell asleep before I had a chance.”
An hour later, Zinnie and Marigold had hung about half of the tablecloths and napkins and were ready to take a break. Marigold went inside to get them some lemonade and a snack.
“Boo!” a voice said, startling Zinnie. She turned to see Max, in a bright-green T-shirt and jeans, his great big smile almost wider than his face.
“I didn’t even hear you!” Zinnie said, laughing.
“What are doing?” Max asked.
“Oh, nothing much, except hanging the wash,” Zinnie said. “It’s a lost art,” she added, quoting Aunt Sunny. She couldn’t help but feel happy when she looked at Max, whose eyes were sparkling. “Cool guitar. Can you play me something?”
“Sure,” Max said, “What do you want to hear?”
“How about a song for hanging the wash?” Zinnie said with a shrug.
“Okay,” Max said, and began to strum a happy tune. “We can make up the words as we go, because I don’t know any songs about laundry.”
“Oh, oh, oh my gosh, we’re hanging the wash,” Zinnie sang.
Max laughed and added: “Please, oh please, can I have some squash? It’s what I like to eat when I hang the wash.”
Zinnie laughed and sang: “If you don’t have squash, will you go ask Josh?”
Then they sang together: “Because squash is what we eat when we hang the wash.” They burst into laughter.
That was when Marigold returned with two cups of lemonade and a Ziploc bag of cookies.
“What are you guys doing?” Marigold asked.
Max’s cheeks flushed. Marigold, however, barely seemed to notice him.
“We’re making up a song,” Zinnie said. She pulled a tablecloth from the basket and went to hang it on the line. She was so taken with Max and his guitar that she forgot Aunt Sunny’s rule. The breeze picked up and the wet tablecloth wrapped around her, soaking her shirt and shorts.
“Uh, be right back,” Zinnie said, handing the tablecloth to Marigold. She ran into the house and up to the attic bedroom. Not only was it uncomfortable to wear wet clothes, but also she was worried that her T-shirt was now see-through.
She opened her drawer to put on a dry T-shirt, but she saw that the drawer was almost empty. Since Marigold had been borrowing so many of her clothes, Zinnie hardly had any clean T-shirts left. She had a reputation in her family for packing light, sometimes too light, and with Marigold raiding her drawer, now she had nothing to wear. The only T-shirts in there were ones she wore to bed.
Normally Marigold would flip out if Zinnie borrowed her clothes without asking, and normally Zinnie respected that. But things were different this summer. Not only did Marigold want to borrow Zinnie’s clothes, she had simply been taking her stuff whenever she wanted to. Zinnie didn’t mind. In fact, she was kind of flattered. And in light of this new way of doing things, Zinnie reasoned that it should be perfectly okay for her take something of Marigold’s without asking. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it until now. Her heart quickened at the idea of selecting one of Marigold’s beautiful things. Maybe she would wear the teal tank top that she’d been envying since Marigold had brought it home from the mall. Or what about the cute pink button-down? Did she want to borrow a dress, even?
She opened Marigold’s drawer, where everything was folded as if it were on a display table at the Gap. She reached in to pick out a blue T-shirt from the middle of pile when she felt something slim and hard between the T-shirts. She pulled it out, realizing that it was Marigold’s iPad.
She looked out the window to see Marigold outside, hanging the napkins and chatting with Max. Zinnie tucked the iPad back in the drawer. She opened Marigold’s closet and considered what to wear. She was curious about whatever Marigold was trying to conceal on the iPad, but she wasn’t about to leave Marigold alone with Max any longer than she had to.
27 • Shy Girl in the Key of C
“Nice dress,” Marigold said, her nose wrinkled, as Zinnie walked back outside, wearing her sister’s sea-foam-green dress. Max was
seated on a tree stump, playing Marigold a tune that sounded more serious than their laundry-hanging song, and Marigold was hanging napkins. Zinnie flinched at the sight of Max’s adoring gaze set firmly on her sister, but she kept her composure as she strode toward them. She had a new look and she liked it.
Back in the bedroom, Zinnie had used her phone’s camera to see what she looked like in the dress. She was surprised to see that the dress didn’t just look not terrible on her, it looked good. Really good, actually. The color brought out the hazel of her eyes and set off her dark hair. And the hem hit her knees, just like it did on Marigold. She knew that she’d had a growth spurt this winter—but had she had another one this spring? Because not only was she getting a little bit taller (her legs had definitely lengthened), her overall shape was changing, too. She appeared to have developed something of a waist. Had this all happened overnight? How had she not noticed until now? Zinnie decided that she loved this dress.
Zinnie and Marigold had different-sized feet (Marigold’s were long and narrow, while Zinnie’s were small but wide), so she couldn’t wear any of Marigold’s shoes. Her sneakers didn’t look good with the dress at all, and the ballet slipper shoes that she was going to wear to the wedding were too dressy. So Zinnie decided that she was going to go out to the yard barefoot.
“Kind of dressy for hanging tablecloths, don’t you think?” Marigold asked. Zinnie could tell that even though Marigold had been totally comfortable borrowing her clothes all week, she was still shocked at seeing Zinnie in her dress.
“As someone I know once said, a dress is suitable for any occasion,” Zinnie responded. “And since we share clothes now, I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
Marigold opened her mouth to reply but quickly shut it.
“I think it’s cool when girls don’t dress up too much. Like you, Marigold. You’re always wearing the kind of clothes that you can run around in and stuff,” Max said. Zinnie’s spirits lowered a bit as she watched Max focus on Marigold, who was wearing her clothes. “I hate getting dressed up. My parents sent me to private school one year and I had to wear a tie every day and I totally hated it.”
The Brightest Stars of Summer Page 12
