My Summer of Pink & Green

by Lisa Greenwald

  Diana sits down on the little love seat and Bean and Claudia get to the rolling desk chairs before me. Then I’m left standing, not knowing what to do. I look over at Claudia, but she’s already staring down at the list of questions we came up with last night.

  “So tell us about your experience at the Coral Reef Spa in Florida,” Claudia starts. “You were there a while?”

  Diana opens her mouth to answer, but they can’t expect me to just stand for the whole interview so I say, “Um, I’m just going to go find another chair.” All three of them look up at me and then go back to what they’re doing.

  I go scavenging around the spa area for another chair, but I know I won’t find one there. I’ll just go take Mom’s chair from the pharmacy office and return it when I’m done. Mom won’t mind since she’s busy helping Bevin and Gary move in.

  I can’t believe this. Claudia acts like I’m so important and such a vital part of the spa. But that’s only when the grownups are there. When it’s actually time to do something, she pretty much ignores me. She and Bean planned to dress up and look all professional for the interview, but they never told me! They wanted me to look young in my ratty clothes, and they planned for me to not have a seat. This is a conspiracy! A conspiracy for me to quit working at the spa and go find some kid activity to do. Well, it’s not gonna happen.

  I’ll bring my own chair if I have to!

  That reminds me of one of Claudia’s friends who didn’t get into Yale. It was her dream her whole life, and she’s kind of an “outside-the-box thinker.” She was so determined to get there somehow that she purchased a folding chair and a lap desk and wrote a letter to the dean. She included the receipts for the purchases with the letter and basically said something like: “I will attend Yale, and sit in the back of the room, on my own chair, not disturbing anyone. Thank you.”

  They ended up letting her in after she reapplied the next year, and she’s doing really well so far. That’s what Claudia told me anyway.

  That’s just one of those stories that proves someone can really do what she sets her mind to. So if people don’t want to include me in the opening of this spa, then I will literally bring my own chair! I will make it happen!

  I’m walking over to grab the chair when I get a text from Sunny.

  SO BORED. PLEASE HELP.

  It seems to me Sunny should have more of my “bring your own chair” philosophy and find something to do.

  I’m about to barge into the office to grab Mom’s desk chair when I notice the door is closed, and then I hear voices.

  “Lucy’s asked me seven times when you’re coming,” I hear my mom say, and when I don’t hear anyone say anything back, I figure out what’s going on. She’s on the phone with my dad. “Please do not disappoint her. Claudia doesn’t care; she’s busy with her boyfriend. But Lucy was really looking forward to your visit.”

  That’s not true—Claudia cares too. She’s just not as open about it as I am. I wish I knew what they’re talking about. It could be scheduling or—worst-case scenario—maybe Dad’s moved on and has a new family. It seems out of the blue, but I guess it could happen.

  “Oh, that’s an idea!” Mom says, and I can tell even through the closed door that she’s excited. She gets that high-pitched squeak in her voice only when she’s excited about something. I love that squeak.

  “She would freak, Sam,” Mom continues. “You know she would.” She pauses for a second and I wish so much that I could see her facial expression right now. “But then how much time would you really have with the girls?”

  Silence again. If I wait any longer, I’ll miss Diana’s whole interview. I need to get that chair. I need to be in that interview so Bean and Claudia know that I care.

  I knock on the door and then I hear Mom say, “OK, Sam, I gotta run. E-mail me your tentative plans and I’ll go from there. I think we still have a few weeks until the RSVP date.” She hangs up and then sings, “Come in!”

  “I need a chair,” I say right away so she doesn’t think I’ve been listening. “Claudia and Bean didn’t even get me one for the interview. And they didn’t tell me they were dressing up.”

  Mom’s sitting there, staring at me, and then it occurs to me that complaining like a little kid won’t help them take me more seriously. It will just remind them that I’m a kid.

  “Anyway, can I borrow your chair?”

  “Take Grandma’s,” Mom says, but she’s already turned back to the computer, looking at that site that lists every airline’s flight prices. “Oh, Luce, I probably won’t see you later. I have that Green Entrepreneurs lecture this afternoon. Give me a kiss.”

  I kiss my mom on the cheek and peek over at the computer. There’s a minimized tab on the bottom of her screen that appears to be an e-mail, with the subject heading “RE: summer plans.”

  My dad’s up to something. It could be a big surprise, like maybe he’s coming to Connecticut to pick us up and then take us on a cruise around Europe. Or maybe even a cruise to Europe. But there isn’t really time for all that, not with the opening of the spa in less than two months.

  Well, he’s got to be planning something, that’s for sure. And as long as he’s planning something, I know he’s thinking about us. And if he’s thinking about us, I know he cares.

  By the time I get back with Grandma’s desk chair, Claudia, Bean, and Diana are shaking hands again. “We’ll be in touch,” Claudia says.

  “Thanks again. This is going to be an amazing spa,” Diana says as she’s walking out.

  Claudia and Bean leave the spa and plop down in the Relaxation Room. “She seemed smart,” Claudia says. “But I think she may be too expensive.”

  Bean nods. “Yeah, she has tons of experience. Of course she’s expensive.”

  They look at each other for a few seconds.

  “So when’s our next interview?” I ask.

  “Luce, we can handle this. And you really don’t know anything about interviewing people,” Claudia says in her fake-sweet voice, like she’s trying so hard not to hurt my feelings. “I’m sure there are other things you can help with. Just ask Anais.”

  “She said I should help with interviewing.”

  “Fine.” Claudia turns away from me. “Be stubborn. But please be quiet. Our next interview is in twenty minutes, and we want to take a power nap.”

  Please. They’re so tired after one interview? They didn’t even wake up today until nine A.M. I was up at eight, making coffee for them and Mom and Grandma. I’m the only one who seems too excited to sleep, and yet I’m being left out of everything.

  I leave Claudia and Bean to their nap, and if they don’t wake up in time for the next interview, I’ll just do it myself. That’ll show them.

  I walk back over to the pharmacy and I quickly tidy up the facial products aisle and the makeup aisle. We can’t have it looking like a total mess if we’re interviewing people for the spa. Those aisles will be the first place they look!

  I hear the door chimes and I look up thinking it’s the next interviewee, but it’s actually Anais.

  “Anais!” I jump up and walk over to her. “How’s moving in?”

  “Fine, Lucy.” She smiles, but it seems forced, not relaxed like I’d seen her up until now. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Some Green Entrepreneurs conference,” I say. “Can I help you with something?”

  She smiles that forced smile again. “Where’s your grandma?”

  I shrug. “I can help you, I’m sure. I know everything about this place.”

  “Thanks, Lucy, but we actually have a small issue with scheduling the inspection for the spa.” She pauses. “I really need to speak to an adult. Have you seen Gary?”

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  I leave her in the middle of the makeup aisle. I get why she needs to speak to an adult, because obviously I don’t know anything about inspections, but it still stings. I decide to play a computer game while I wait for the next interview.

  I’m beating the co
mputer at Scrabble better than I’ve ever beaten it before when I get interrupted by a text. Why is Sunny bothering me again?

  But when I look at my phone, I see that it’s not from Sunny. It’s from Yamir.

  My stomach starts doing flips, like the kind Claudia can do off the diving board. I’m excited, then nervous, then excited again.

  Gotta bail on the Spielberg movie. Clint’s dad got free passes to a screening in NYC.

  I should have expected this. Clint’s dad does lighting for movie shoots and he always gets free passes. Why did I even get excited in the first place?

  “Hey, Lucille,” Bevin says, and she plops herself down on the office floor. She knows my name isn’t Lucille, but for some reason she always feels the need to call me that. I really don’t understand it.

  I don’t answer her.

  “Whatcha doin’, Lucille?”

  “Playing Scrabble,” I grumble.

  My whole summer flashes before my eyes—it won’t be like I planned, hanging out with Claudia, swimming, working at the pharmacy, and getting the spa ready. No. It’ll be me hiding in the office while the grownups do cool stuff, and then Bevin coming to bug me. And Yamir won’t even want to hang out with me. And Sunny will be busy with Evan.

  “Can I play?” Bevin asks.

  “It’s a solo game and I play against the computer.” I talk to Bevin while staring at the computer screen. I don’t feel like being nice right now.

  “What’s wrong, Lucille?” Bevin takes a pen off Grandma’s desk and starts drawing on her hand.

  Aren’t we a little old for pen tattoos?

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m fine, Bevin, but thanks.”

  “Liar again.”

  Bevin might be the most annoying person on the entire planet. And of course she finds me to hang out with because she probably knows no one else can stand her. Either that or she figures they’re all busy and I’m just a kid, so what do I have to do, just like everyone else thinks.

  “Just tell me.”

  Finally I turn around. She’s not going to stop until I say something. “Fine. If you must know, I’m annoyed that people still don’t take me seriously around here, even though I’m the one who found the grant and got this whole spa thing going in the first place! And I’m annoyed that Claudia’s busy with Bean and Sunny’s busy with Evan and I’m totally left out of everything. And I’m annoyed that Yamir, who I think is my boyfriend but I don’t really know for sure, asked me to go to the movies and then totally bailed so he could go with Clint!”

  Bevin gets up and closes the office door. I guess she’s worried everyone’s going to hear me yelling, but I don’t really care, and I’m done now anyway.

  She sits back down on the floor. “OK.” She takes a deep breath. “First of all, you have a boyfriend and I didn’t even know that. So. Tell. Tell everything.”

  I squint at her. With everything that’s going on, what’s most important to her is Yamir. Strange.

  “You’re so lucky.” She’s braiding the threads on her cutoffs. “He must be really cool.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “But maybe he doesn’t even think he’s my boyfriend. I don’t know. Sunny and Evan hang out all the time, but Yamir and I rarely do.”

  She shrugs. “So invite him to hang out! Invite him over to the pharmacy. Tell him to bring friends.” She smiles. “Imagine if I met a boyfriend in Connecticut this summer and then I could go back and tell everyone at school. That would be amazing.”

  This conversation makes me realize that Bevin is even more pathetic than I am, which in a really, really mean way kind of makes me feel better.

  Mom and Grandma about the inspection scheduling problem that Anais was freaking out about, they told me that everything was fine.

  I have this weird feeling that I shouldn’t believe them, but I’m not going to worry about it now. It’s the Fourth of July, one of my favorite holidays, and I can’t waste it worrying!

  I check my e-mail one last time before we head out for our big Fourth of July celebration. I get really excited when I see I have an e-mail from my dad.

  Hey Lulu!

  Just wanted to wish my girl a happy 4th o’ July. I know it’s your favorite, and it’s sad to be somewhere that doesn’t celebrate it.

  Stay tuned for details about our reunion!

  Oodles of Noodles,

  Dad

  Well, that didn’t say much at all. But at least he’s thinking about me today. It’s pretty much more important to me than my own birthday, even! I wonder what he means by details and why he’s being so vague. But I can’t spend my day worrying about this—as frustrating as it is. It’s the Fourth of July and we have a huge evening planned.

  Anais’s apartment is right on the beach where the Fourth of July fireworks are taking place, so she invited us all over for a champagne toast before. I try to put all of my frustration about being left out of things at the spa out of my mind.

  “Are you always this chummy with the spa families you’re working with?” I ask her, after a sip of my sparkling apple juice.

  “Lucy,” Claudia says in her I’m-horrified tone, but I really don’t understand why that was such an inappropriate question.

  Anais laughs. “No, no, that’s a good question.” She smiles at me and I look over and glare at Claudia. Since Bean’s been living with us, Claudia thinks she’s like the queen of etiquette or something. Anais goes on, “The truth is, most of the spas I work with are owned by some sort of larger corporation, so I’ll meet the manager and maybe the CEO a few times, but it’s not like this, where there’s a great family who owns the place and really cares about every single detail.”

  “We’re just the best,” Mom says, staring at Anais’s floor-to-ceiling window with the most unbelievable view of the beach. “Aren’t we, guys?”

  Everyone else in my family rolls their eyes at my mom, but at this moment I just want to run up and hug her. Maybe that’s what we need—a little unity, a little family pride.

  After our champagne toast and tour of Anais’s apartment, where we debate which room has the best view of the ocean, we all head down to the beach. Anais suggested that we could watch from her balcony, but we have our traditions. The Desbergs do the Fourth of July the same way every year, and we can’t change that.

  Mom carries backpack beach chairs—she can carry three at once, and it’s so impressive. Grandma brings a huge picnic blanket that folds up into a tiny square. And we have the best picnic food ever: sandwiches from the deli—turkey, mozzarella and tomato, grilled vegetables and Brie—and bags of potato chips and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. We always get to the fireworks a few hours early so we can get a good spot and enjoy our picnic without everyone stomping all over us looking for a spot.

  The Ramals usually find us and put their blankets and chairs near ours. When we were little, Sunny and I would pretend each of our blankets was a little island and if we stepped on the sand, we’d drown. So we’d hop from blanket to blanket.

  It was such a silly game, but we had so much fun doing it. And sometimes we’d try to push Yamir off the blanket and pretend he was drowning.

  I’d never do that now. Now I wish he’d sit with me on our blanket. I’d be so happy to have him there, but I’d never tell him that. I guess I could ask him, but he’d probably make a joke and embarrass me.

  We set up our space. Bean arranges the chairs around the blanket, and Gary and Bevin bring a sushi boat as an appetizer. It’s one of the really pretty ones too, with all the rolls arranged in a cool way and flowers made from the ginger. I don’t know how they got it here still looking so perfect after a walk across the sand.

  “Do you like sushi?” Bevin asks me. She pops a spicy tuna roll into her mouth. “It’s my favorite.”

  I can’t help but laugh because food is falling out of her mouth and she doesn’t even seem to be embarrassed. I take a piece of yellowtail and scallion. “I love it too. And I’m so glad you got it
from Sushi by Gari—it’s the best in the area. They have locations in New York and Japan too.”

  “Really? Authentic!”

  “Yeah, Gari bought a summer home here, so he opened another location.” I smile, dipping a roll in soy sauce. “Lucky us.”

  Soon the Ramals find us, and set up their blanket and chairs. Sunny’s mom always brings Indian food for their picnic and it always stresses me out. It’s just so messy. The containers usually leak and Sunny usually ends up upset because there’s dripping sauce on her leg.

  Picnics are more fun when the food is easy to eat—sandwiches, sushi, stuff like that.

  Actually, that’s a rule I just thought of: Picnic food should start with s: sandwiches, sushi, soda, salsa, salami. And then I run out of other s words.

  I turn away to grab a piece of tuna sushi and when I turn back around and look at the Ramals’ blanket, I notice someone else is there with them.

  “You’re back?” I say, when Evan makes eye contact. “I thought you were in the Berkshires until the tenth.”

  He takes a piece of naan and dips it in the curry sauce. “I couldn’t miss Old Mill Fourth of July! Are you crazy?”

  He says that really loud and my whole family and the rest of the group turns around.

  “No. I’m not crazy.” I laugh. “Sunny said you were staying longer. That’s all.”

  “I came back early,” he says. “My uncle was driving back to Manhattan for work, so he gave me a lift.”

  “Oh.” I force a smile.

  “Want some of our chicken, Luce?” Sunny asks me.

  “No, thanks. Too hot for me.” I fan my mouth. “Temperature and spice!”

  Bevin’s the only one who laughs at my joke, but that’s because she laughs at everything—and it’s not just a laugh but a laugh and snort combination. It sounds so bad, it makes me not want to tell any more jokes.

  Claudia is pretty much sitting in Bean’s lap. Grandma and Anais are in some deep conversation about the history of Japan, Gary went to wash his hands somewhere, and Mom’s reading an article on green living.

  I turn back to the Ramals. Yamir hasn’t even said hi to me yet, and now he’s gone. Evan and Sunny are doing the slaps game where you have to move your hands away fast so the other person can’t slap them.