—Tuck, Tuck Everlasting
STILL NIGHT 5
I thought I knew everything there was to know about my family. Clearly not.
When Gaga came back into my room, she sat down in the chair that Sophie had sat in earlier. “I know you’re upset about everything that’s happened—my sickness, Sophie leaving.” She patted my cast. “And to top things off, a broken leg.”
“I’m not happy,” I said.
Gaga nodded like she appreciated the truth. “I have a story to tell you. I’ve thought about sharing it with you for a while. Now is the right time.”
I inhaled, then let out a breath and put my head back on the pillow. I couldn’t imagine what Gaga was going to tell me, but I had a feeling I’d be listening for a long time.
“April, I want you to know what happened to your mother and aunts when they were little.” Gaga paused. “One day, your grandfather left town and never came back. He left me with no career, no money, and three young girls to look after.”
Gaga sat up straight in her chair. “I went to work and I did what I had to do to raise your mom, Lilly, and Lila.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I always assumed Grandpa died when Mom and her sisters were little. How come no one ever told me the truth?”
“We weren’t keeping it from anyone,” said Gaga. “It’s just not something we talk about. Lilly was five when he left, so she has a few memories of him, but even those have dimmed over the years. Your mother was three, and your aunt Lila was one, so all they’ve ever known was me.”
I was speechless. I tried picturing Gaga as a young mother raising three girls and trying to take care of everything. She’s the strongest person I know, but still. “That must have been really hard,” I said.
“It was,” said Gaga. “For a long time after your grandfather left, I was overwhelmed and very angry. I didn’t think I could do it. Every day of those first few years was a struggle.”
“How’d you do it?” I asked.
“Not very well. I don’t much like thinking about that time. I yelled a lot, and my girls felt it. I don’t remember exactly how or when, but I remember waking up one day and realizing that being angry was an awful feeling, but that dwelling on the things that make you angry can have far more disastrous consequences. I knew I had to let go of my anger, or it would hurt my girls even more than their father’s leaving.”
She paused. “I made a conscious effort to be positive and productive. I chose to see the good and not complain.”
“It’s one thing to say it, but it must have been hard to do.”
Gaga sighed. “I don’t mean to make it sound like I snapped my fingers and it happened. It was very hard to think positively, but I did my best. Eventually, it got easier. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I had my bad days too. We didn’t have a lot, but I wanted to raise my girls to be positive and appreciative of what they had. I’d like to believe it made a difference. Your mom and her sisters are all pretty positive.”
“Especially Aunt Lilly,” I said.
“Especially Aunt Lilly,” Gaga said with a smile. “But the truth is that all three girls grew up happy and didn’t dwell on what they didn’t have.”
Hearing this story gave me a newfound respect for Gaga. Doing what she had to do and letting go of her anger had to be so hard. “You’re so strong,” I said.
Gaga reached over and took my hand. “So are you, April.” She paused, and then looked me square in the eye like it was so important that I heard what she said next. “The reason I told you this story tonight is because it won’t do you any good to be mad that I’m sick or that Sophie is leaving or even that you took a tumble on the slopes.” She paused. “Anger is a wasted emotion.”
Gaga continued talking. “The reason I was able to move on with my life when your grandfather left was because I chose to forgive him. I knew it was a smarter choice than staying angry.”
Anger as a choice? I hadn’t thought about it like that. As Gaga continued talking, I thought about what it meant for me—letting go of my anger toward Harry or May or Sophie, or whoever or whatever it was that allowed me to fall and Gaga to get sick.
And the truth was that while I had things to be angry about, I knew there were worse things. Like what happened to Gaga. She might see anger as a wasted emotion, but I think it’s relative. Maybe she had more to be angry about, but the bottom line is that it doesn’t really matter. What Gaga was saying was right. What good would it do to stay angry?
Gaga squeezed my hand. “Are you OK?”
I nodded. She’d given me a lot to take in, but I still had a few questions for her.
“Did you and Willy know before we came on the trip that Emma and Sophie would be leaving Faraway?”
Gaga laughed when I asked that. “Of course we knew. Parents, especially old ones like us, are pretty perceptive when it comes to their kids,” she said. “But it wasn’t our news to share. Sophie needed to tell you in her own time and in her own way.”
I wrinkled my nose as I thought back to the other day when I’d tried to talk to Mom about this when she was getting dressed. I realized she’d known then, but now I understood why she couldn’t tell me.
Gaga looked down at me over the rim of her glasses. “When Emma was growing up, she was a lot like Sophie. Pretty. Headstrong. A bit rebellious too.” Gaga paused.
“What does this have to do with anything?” I asked.
“I’m getting to that,” said Gaga. She looked at me and then continued her story. “When she was in college, she went to study in Paris. While she was there, she met a man and fell in love.”
“Sophie’s dad?” I asked.
Gaga nodded. “She stayed after college. Willy was very upset. Emma is his only daughter. Eventually, she got married and had Sophie.”
Gaga’s story was starting to make sense. “So you’re saying that Sophie and Emma leaving Faraway is hard for Willy too. Is it like losing Emma twice?”
Gaga shook her head. “It will be hard for Willy when they go. But that’s not what I’m saying.”
“I’m confused,” I said.
“Part of loving someone is letting them go. Whether it’s a child or a friend.” Gaga paused. “Or even a grandmother.”
“Gaga, please don’t say that,” I said.
Gaga didn’t flinch. “It’s the reality of life,” she said. “It’s sad. And it’s hard, but sometimes, you don’t have a choice.” Gaga stopped talking and looked at me. “You know, Sophie has had a lot to process too,” she said.
Gaga was right. This can’t be easy for her or for her grandpa. “What’s Willy going to do?” I asked.
Gaga smiled. “He has plans too.”
“To move to New York with Sophie and Emma?”
Gaga laughed. “Heavens no. Faraway has been his home all his life. He was thinking more along the lines of buying a fishing boat.”
The image of Willy in his boat made me smile. I hugged Gaga. “Thanks for telling me all this,” I said.
Gaga didn’t respond, she just kept hugging me and rubbing my back. It made me equal parts happy and sad—happy she was there to talk to and sad knowing that wouldn’t always be the case.
STILL NIGHT 5
BUT MUCH LATER!
Before Gaga left my room, a thought occurred to me. “I think Sophie would benefit from hearing your story,” I said.
“You’re free to share it with her,” said Gaga. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
Gaga left and sent Sophie in, and I told her the story.
“Was the point of that to tell me that I shouldn’t be mad because my parents can’t get along? I’ve lived in three different cities for the past three years and come this summer, I’m going back to city number two,” Sophie said when I was done.
She had a point. Paris to New York to Faraway and back to New York was a lot of moving around in a very short time. “You’re one of the most upbeat, positive people I know,” I said. “I just don’t want to see you
lose that.”
“April, my parents are getting divorced. It’s just kind of a hard time.” Even though I was the one in a cast, it was clear she was hurting too.
“This must be hard,” I said. Sophie nodded. Then she got in bed next to me, and we stayed side by side for a long time, neither of us saying anything. I don’t remember when, but at some point we both fell asleep, and we didn’t wake up until Amanda came in the room.
She poked us both awake. “You each have a bed, you know.”
I saw her point. Two teen girls, one large cast and a stack of pillows in a twin bed. The image of it made me laugh. When I started laughing, Sophie did too. As Amanda stood there starting at us like we were crazy, we laughed even harder. I don’t know why. There wasn’t really anything to be laughing about.
But it felt good.
Things are never as bad as they seem.
—Miss Maudie, To Kill a Mockingbird
Thursday, March 26, 9:32 a.m.
Last Day in Utah
We just had a group breakfast at the condo. Mine was served with a side dish of “I’m sorry,” which I have to say goes pretty well with French toast and fruit.
When I sat down, May brought me a plate. “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” she said when she set it down in front of me. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?” I asked. “By bringing me breakfast?”
“Lunch and dinner too. For as long as you need me to.” May grinned.
“Deal,” I said. I couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess it’s pretty obvious I could use your help.”
“Yeah,” said May. I could tell she’d heard what I said yesterday and was trying to be more thoughtful.
After breakfast, Mom set me up on the back porch. It was cold, but it felt good to be outside. Harry came out and joined me, and he was apologetic too. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt on the run yesterday,” he said. “Are we over what happened?” he asked.
“By we do you mean me?”
Harry nodded, and his face turned red. He was either hot or embarrassed, and since it was thirty degrees outside, I knew it wasn’t the former.
I could have gone back over what happened, but I didn’t. “We’re cool,” I said. He hadn’t done anything to intentionally hurt me. It was an accident.
And what would have been the point? My leg would still be broken.
Sophie came outside and told me she was sorry too. I have to admit that it was an apology I hadn’t expected. “What are you sorry about?” I asked.
“I know I’ve been completely into my own deal lately. Sorry if I shut you out.”
“I get it,” I told her. When we talked last night, I could see how upset she’s been about what’s happening to her family.
“I had a long talk with my mom this morning,” Sophie said. “I told her I’m not happy about leaving Faraway, but I’m trying to be optimistic about going back to New York. We promised we’d try to stay open and honest with each other through the divorce. I’m relieved we’re at least talking like we used to.”
I’m happy for her. It seems like the talk we had after I talked to Gaga helped her to put things into perspective.
I couldn’t believe how much things could change in a day. Yesterday I felt horrible, physically and mentally. I can’t say that I feel great today. My foot is even more swollen than it was last night, and my leg hurts, but I feel better on the inside. I’m not angry at anyone—not at May or Harry or Sophie. And to be perfectly honest, I’m proud of myself for making it down an advanced blue run, even if I broke a leg doing it.
Plus, there’s a perk to having a broken leg—I was relieved from dishwashing duty. I’m sitting here with my leg propped up, writing in my journal, while the other kids are inside, clearing plates and washing dishes.
It could be worse.
7:54 p.m.
$4.25 richer than I was this morning
In a show of solidarity, my whole family sat the day out. It was Harry’s idea.
He said that since it’s the last day of our trip, he thought it would be nice if we all hung out together, so we stayed in and played poker. That was Willy’s idea. He told us that back in the day he was a pretty good player and could teach us all a thing or two about the game.
He wasn’t kidding.
First, he gave us a lesson on how the game works. “In poker, all hands contain five cards, and the highest hand wins. Cards are ranked from high to low. Aces, kings, queens, and jacks are high, and it goes down all the way to the low end of the deck—fours, threes, and twos,” said Willy. “Spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs all have the same rank, and we’ll be using jokers as wild cards.”
“Tell them about the different kinds of hands,” said Gaga.
Willy smiled at Gaga. “I’m getting to that,” he said patiently. Then he told us about lots of different kinds of hands—five of a kind, straight flush, full house, and a bunch of others. At first, it sounded pretty confusing.
“I don’t want to play this game,” said Charlotte.
“Can we play Candy Land instead?” asked Izzy.
“It sounds harder than it is,” Willy told them. Then he promised that everyone would catch on quickly. I wasn’t so sure, but Willy made Charlotte partners with Aunt Lila and paired Izzy with Uncle Drew. And Willy was right—once we started, everyone got the hang of it. Then Willy divided us up into groups of five and explained that we’d be playing five-card draw.
“More instructions!” said Izzy.
Charlotte moaned like she was being tortured.
Willy laughed and asked Charlotte and Izzy if they’d like to be his assistants. They were very happy to stand by his side while he explained the rules of five-card draw. Then Willy got a bag of almonds and said we’d be using them as poker chips.
“Do we get to eat them?” asked Izzy.
“Nope,” said Willy. “You get to pass them out.” Charlotte and Izzy gave everyone ten almonds, and Willy explained that each almond would be worth twenty-five cents.
“Do we have to pay for our almonds?” asked June.
“Good question,” said Willy. “Normally, card players have to put up their own money. But since you’re all special players, at least to Gaga and me, we’re putting up all the money.” Willy grinned. “And the good news is that you keep whatever you win.”
Willy appointed a dealer in each group who dealt everyone five cards. After we got our cards, we placed bets by putting however many almonds we wanted to in the middle of the table. “At the end of the hand, whoever has the highest hand that hasn’t folded wins,” said Willy.
Then he explained how betting works. Wrapping my head around calls, raises, and folding was even more confusing than learning how to play the card game, but eventually I caught on, and so did everyone else, and we spent most of the day playing poker for almonds.
Sophie came in first place. She won fifty almonds. When she counted up her almonds and announced she’d won $12.50, Willy gave her a big hug. “You’re a chip off the old block,” he said.
Uncle Dusty came in second place, followed by June, then Emma, and then me.
I was pretty happy with the $4.25 I won.
“It was a mercy win,” said Harry who finished with twenty-five cents and second to last, only ahead of Gaga.
“The cards don’t know I broke my leg,” I said.
“But the dealer did,” said Harry. He made a few comments about the fact that my dad was the one giving out the cards in our group, but Dad denied any wrongdoing.
I didn’t mind Harry’s teasing. It was a great afternoon. Some people were good at poker, although most weren’t, and some stank. But everyone had fun, even Gaga, who ended up with nothing.
She was a great sport. When she finished playing, she said, “Loser makes dinner.” Then she pointed to Harry and said, “Next-worst player is sous chef.”
So Harry and Gaga spent the rest of the afternoon making lasagna. He seemed uncharacteristically happy as he and Gaga chopped, bo
iled, sautéed, and baked. And it made me happy seeing how much Gaga loved spending the day with her family. Even though learning to ski was on her bucket list, I think playing poker and cooking with the people she loves meant even more to her.
“Mom, this is delicious,” said Aunt Lilly when we all sat down to eat. For once, I had to agree with her positive statement. Uncle Drew gave Gaga a big thumbs-up, and Uncle Dusty seconded his opinion with his own thumb.
“I couldn’t have made it better myself,” said Dad.
When Charlotte finished her portion, she went to where Gaga was sitting and gave her a big hug. “I liked my dinner,” she said.
“Gaga is a great cook,” Izzy announced to the group like it was a fact.
I got a little emotional when she said it, because it reminded me that soon we might have to say things like that in the past tense.
Gaga was a great cook.
I hate that thought. But hating it doesn’t change things. I thought about what Gaga and I had talked about. I get that it’s important not to dwell on what makes you angry.
But I already know that days like this without Gaga won’t be an easy thing to accept.
Well, it’s no secret that the best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret.
—SpongeBob
Friday, March 27, 9:45 p.m.
HOME!!!
In my bed
Curled up next to my dog
I can truly say that I’ve never been so happy to be home. Hands down, the best part about getting home—besides having the long day of travel behind me—is that Gilligan hasn’t left my side. I think he saw my cast and crutches and just had a dog’s sense that something was wrong.
The trip home today was a big challenge. It wasn’t too hard navigating through the airports on crutches—that part was pretty easy because the airline carted me around in a wheelchair. But there were other things that made it challenging.
Like going to the bathroom on a plane. I had to walk down the aisle with my crutches. Mom escorted me because she didn’t want me to fall. At fourteen, it’s pretty embarrassing to be taken to the bathroom by your mother. It’s even worse when it happens on a plane. As we walked down the aisle, several people wanted to know what happened. “She had a little tumble skiing, but she’ll be fine,” Mom said, like I’d asked her to be my spokesperson.
#7 A Twist of Fate Page 7
