My Summer of Pink & Green

by Lisa Greenwald

  “OK.”

  I sit down on one of the chairs on the edge of the circle where there aren’t any other people. I need space to fill out this form because I’m really not sure what to write. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sunny coming in and talking to the same person at the reference desk. Then I see her walking over to the young adult section, which is very close to where our meeting is taking place. I hope she doesn’t make faces at me and make me laugh. She looks grumpy, so I doubt she will.

  This form is tricky because it asks for addresses of the business, phone numbers, and all that stuff. I decide to just write down my cell number and my e-mail and say that we’re in the very beginning stages of opening our spa so I don’t have contact info there yet.

  That seems believable, I think.

  Soon the lady collects the sheets and calls the meeting to order. There are about fifteen people here and they all look like my mom—natural, relaxed, attentive.

  “Welcome to the third meeting of the southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island small business owners’ discussion group,” the lady starts. “For those newcomers, my name is Ruthie, and my husband and I just sold the Utopia Body and Wellness Spa in Providence, Rhode Island. We’re in the process of figuring out our next steps.” She owned a spa! It’s such a great coincidence I almost can’t believe it. She could really help us out. She smiles and she’s so calming that all of my nervousness just washes away. Even if I do get discovered and found out for being a liar, I doubt she would get mad at me. She’s too chill. “Let’s go around the circle and say our name and what type of business we’re opening.”

  The lady next to me starts and then goes around the circle the other way, which means I’ll be the last one to say my name.

  Most of them are from Rhode Island, which puts me more at ease. There’s less of a chance that they’ll recognize me or know my mom or grandma.

  “I’m Louise Ramal, and my family and I are in the beginning stages of opening a spa in Manhattan. We’re back and forth to our summer home in Waterside, and I stumbled upon this meeting and figured I’d check it out.” I giggle out of nervousness and hope that I didn’t just ramble on for way too long. Everyone else’s introductions were just four seconds each.

  “Welcome, Louise,” the moderator says. “It’s good you’re here in the beginning stages since there’s so much that goes into opening any type of business.”

  A lady across the circle from me raises her hand. “Louise, honey, are you here with a parent or something?” she asks, smiling but confused.

  “Oh, right, I’m a kid.” I laugh. “You probably noticed that. Well, um, my parents were here with me, and my grandfather was staying home with my younger brother, but then my brother got sick, so they went home, and I just decided to stay.” I laugh again. I need to stop this nervous laugh. “So I’ll just sit and listen. If that’s, um, OK.”

  Ruthie nods. “Sure. We’re happy to have you, Louise.”

  As I suspected, much of what is discussed is way over my head. Stuff about plumbing and construction and zoning and permits. They also talk about how to fire a frustrating employee and how to properly budget for the slow periods. I stay quiet most of the time, but jot down notes every few minutes. Some of what they’re saying could be very helpful later on.

  With about ten minutes left in the meeting, the only man here raises his hand. “I know we touched on this a little bit,” he starts, and I try hard to remember his name and where he’s from, but I’m drawing a blank. “I’m opening my second restaurant in a few months, same name and brand and everything, but I’m tripped up again on the inspection stuff. It seems Connecticut is much harder for inspections than Rhode Island, and I feel like all the paperwork is getting lost in the shuffle.”

  A few ladies give him answers that sound really complicated to me. They involve calling someone in Hartford and then making sure all of their yellow forms are filled out in triplicate, not to worry about the green forms, and then keeping copies of everything in a safety-deposit box.

  At this point in the meeting it’s hard for me to sit still. I can see Sunny in the section next to us looking at her watch every few seconds and groaning, and all I can think about are lobster rolls and root beers. And of course calling Bevin back. I can’t even imagine what happened to her. She could have gone back to her old self by now; she could be saying embarrassing things about me to everyone in Old Mill. The longer I wait, the worse it can get.

  I’m glad I came. But now I need the meeting to end.

  A few minutes later, Ruthie thanks everyone for coming and people start to leave.

  “Louise,” Ruthie calls to me. “I just wanted to let you know that if your parents have any questions about the group, they can e-mail me.”

  “Oh, OK, thanks.”

  “And I hope your brother feels better.” She smiles.

  Is she onto me? I can’t tell.

  “Oh, thanks. You know kids, they always get fevers.”

  “Right.”

  I pretend to peruse the children’s section for a few minutes and then I quietly walk over to Sunny.

  “Can we go now?” she says immediately.

  “How did I sound?” I ask. I kind of expect her to say something mean, since I made her wait and she’s been in such a bad mood.

  “Great.”

  “You were really listening?” I ask her. “You promise?”

  “Totally.” She smiles, and I’m so relieved. “So—lobster rolls?”

  “You know it.” We leave the library and walk the few blocks to Lobster Landing. We can smell the delicious salty sea air as we walk, and I just want to grab a blanket and lie down on the beach and stare out at the ocean and up at the sky and not think about anything else.

  There’s a line at Lobster Landing, of course. It’s always packed, any time of the day.

  “You owe me for tonight,” Sunny says after we’ve been quiet for a few minutes.

  “Huh?”

  “Evan asked me to go to the beach with him. Doesn’t that sound so romantic? But I had to tell him no so I could come with you.” She glares at me.

  I stay quiet for a few seconds. I’m not sure what she wants me to say. “Oh, well, thanks.”

  “That’s it? Just thanks?”

  “I don’t know, Sunny. You didn’t give me a kidney or anything.” I roll my eyes. “Sorry you gave up a night with your boyfriend.”

  I wish this conversation had never started, because I’m getting a nervous feeling in my stomach, and it’s going to ruin my whole lobster roll experience.

  “You don’t get it,” Sunny says after another few minutes of silence. “You don’t have a real boyfriend, so you don’t get it.”

  When did Sunny get so mean?

  “I’m not talking to you now,” I tell her. “I just want to eat my lobster roll in peace. Tell your mom to come pick us up.”

  “And you only call me when you need me to help you. Hanging out with AGE? Not telling me? Spending so much time with Bevin?” She sniffles. “I don’t get you anymore.”

  I don’t say anything because we’re at the front of the line. I order a Connecticut-style lobster roll, chips, a pickle, and a root beer. Sunny orders a Maine-style and a cream soda.

  We sit at one of the white picnic tables right on the water. Lights twinkle all around us and boats sway back and forth where they’re docked. It would be a perfect Connecticut night except for the feeling like I have a knotted rope in my stomach.

  “You don’t have anything to say to the fact that you’ve basically been avoiding me all summer?” Sunny asks.

  I put down my lobster roll and say, “Sunny, how can you say that? You’ve been with Evan all summer. You don’t even want to hang out with me.”

  “You know that’s not true.” She leans forward onto the table and glares at me. “You make no effort. You wait for me to call you. And when I don’t, you hang out with AGE.”

  “That was once. Sheesh.”

  “You know I’m rig
ht and you can’t even admit it or say you’re sorry,” Sunny says. “Let’s just not talk for a bit.”

  We eat our lobster rolls in silence and we might as well be eating lima beans—that’s how depressing this feels.

  I debate it over and over again in my head and then I realize I can’t just let this go.

  “Sunny, how can you say that I need to apologize when it was really mean of you to say that I owe you for tonight because you could have been with your boyfriend,” I tell her. “Yes, you have a boyfriend, but you also have a best friend.”

  She looks at me and I can tell she’s not sorry. “You sound like some kind of cheesy inspirational quote people put on Facebook. And besides, you haven’t been acting like a best friend.”

  I look down at my plate. I still have half a lobster roll and my chips, but I can’t even eat them. And I can’t just stay quiet either. “But, Sunny, saying I owe you and that you gave something up takes all the niceness out of what you did.”

  She rolls her eyes. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Lucy.”

  “I know,” I mumble.

  “I like helping you, but you can’t expect that I’m always going to do it.” Her phone vibrates on the table and she looks at it. “My mom will be here in five minutes. Finish eating, OK?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Lucy, come on. Stop being so sensitive.”

  “I’m not sensitive. You’re mean.”

  “Fine. I’m mean.” She stands up to throw away her garbage. “Then if I’m mean, I might as well tell you that Yamir doesn’t really like you. He never really liked you. I overheard him on the phone with Clint the other day and he was talking about how that girl Arianna in his grade is really pretty.”

  I stand up to throw away my garbage and when I get back to the table, Sunny’s already walking away, toward the street and her mom’s car.

  I can’t believe she just said that.

  I don’t know how this night changed tone so fast. She was supportive about me wearing her sari, but after that she was totally different, like she flicked a switch.

  Maybe it was out of line to ask her to hang out at the library while I had the meeting. Maybe I asked too much of her. But even so, she’s my best friend, and that’s what best friends do for each other. Right?

  something is up because she says “You two are very quiet” at least three times, but unlike my mom, she doesn’t press it. She senses that we just want to be quiet and she lets it go.

  We pull into my driveway and I realize that I’m going to have to say some kind of good-bye, and whatever I say is going to seem awkward.

  I unbuckle my seat belt and say, “Thank you Mrs. Ramal. Bye, Sunny,” and leave it at that.

  I go over the day and night in my head and I can’t figure out what set Sunny off. She’s really that mad about me hanging out with AGE? She knows we don’t even really like them. She knows I was just doing it to help Bevin. Doesn’t she? And then I wonder if what she said about Yamir is true. I want to just come out and ask him, but I don’t think I can.

  I walk inside and my mom, grandma, and Claudia are all sitting in the living room.

  This can’t be good.

  “Luce, come sit with us,” Grandma says.

  “Be right there,” I yell back. I run upstairs and drop my bag and splash some cold water on my face. All I want to do right now is throw on my bathing suit and go for a night swim. We have lights out there, so it’s safe, and I can just float around on my pink raft and process everything that has happened without anyone bothering me. I throw Sunny’s sari in the corner of my room. I decide to put on my bathing suit now and grab a towel so I can go out and swim as soon as we’re done talking. Then I can call Bevin back while relaxing on a lounge chair.

  “What’s up?” I say as soon as I’m sitting down on one of the living room armchairs. “Oh, Mom, how’d your Old Mill Observer meeting go?”

  “It went well, Luce. Thanks.” She smiles, but I can tell there’s something hanging in the air here. I’m not exactly sure what it is.

  I keep waiting for someone to say something. Then I try to convince myself that this weird feeling is all in my head. Maybe they’re just sitting and relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.

  “Lucy, I just got off the phone with Gary,” Grandma says. “Apparently Bevin got stuck at Annabelle Wilson’s house, and she hoped you were going to meet her, but you didn’t, and Bevin got upset. I don’t really know the whole story.”

  “What? No. Bevin’s friends with them now. She was fine on her own. She said so herself.”

  “Why is Bevin friends with Annabelle Wilson?” Claudia asks. “Why doesn’t she just hang out with you and Sunny?”

  Claudia’s the kind of older sister who really knows her little sister’s friends. It’s usually nice. But at a time like this, it would be easier if she didn’t have a clue.

  “We met them at the boardwalk one day and they hit it off. I was trying to help Bevin, you know, become a little bit more social, and like, you know, help her be a little more normal.” I feel my cheeks getting hot. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.

  “I don’t understand what’s really going on here,” Mom says. “Why is Bevin upset?”

  “I have no idea, honestly,” I tell them. “I’ll call her. OK?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Grandma says, sitting up straighter on the couch.

  I can’t believe this is happening. First Sunny yells at me and then tells me Yamir doesn’t like me anymore, and now I’m in trouble for trying to help Bevin become a better version of herself.

  “I’m going swimming,” I tell them, and leave the living room. No one tries to stop me.

  I hear mumbles and whispers as I’m walking out the back door to the deck, but I ignore them.

  This has to be some kind of joke. Some kind of bad dream.

  I throw my towel down on the lounge chair and cannonball off the diving board. I feel myself sinking down to the bottom of the pool and then I pop back up and jump onto my favorite pink raft.

  I float and float and float and I keep telling myself to think because if I think hard enough, I can figure out what to tell Sunny and Bevin and my family. But nothing comes to me. I guess it’s because I don’t think any of what happened is my fault. But if I tell them that, it will sound defensive, like I’m blaming other people for my problems.

  The worst part of it is, even with all of the drama with Sunny and the weirdness with this Bevin situation, I’m still thinking about what Sunny said about Yamir, and how he thought that girl Arianna was pretty.

  I need to know if that’s true. Because if Yamir doesn’t like me anymore, then I can stop worrying about it. I definitely don’t need something else to worry about, so it might be a relief.

  I spend the next hour or so floating and then my mom pops her head out. “Luce, it’s almost eleven thirty. Come in, please. I don’t like you out here while everyone else is asleep.”

  I get out of the pool, shower, and get into pajamas. I write three different e-mails to Yamir but I don’t send any of them. I write out text message after text message but then click DISCARD after each one.

  I don’t know what to say, so I decide to just leave it as is for tonight. I’m too tired to deal with anything else.

  I check my e-mail one more time before bed, thinking that maybe Sunny e-mailed me an apology or something, but I only have one e-mail in my in-box. It’s from Ruthie, the woman from the small business meeting.

  Hello Louise,

  I just wanted to tell you it was a pleasure to meet you at tonight’s gathering. I noticed you were very quiet, so please feel free to e-mail me any questions or concerns you may have. Our next meeting won’t be until September since so many of us will be away in August.

  Best wishes,

  Ruthie

  Well, that was nice. At least a grownup stranger who thinks my name is Louise cares about my questions or concerns.

  I’ve been putting it
off all night, but after hours of tossing and turning, I decide that there’s one thing I have to do.

  I started Bevin on this path and I can’t just abandon her now. She stays up late, so I know it’s OK to text her.

  Bevin, sorry I couldn’t talk before. R U still up?

  I stare at my phone waiting for a text back, but I don’t get one.

  I sleep really late. When my eyes finally open, it’s after ten.

  I’m upstairs washing my face and getting dressed when I hear my phone ring. Maybe it’s Sunny calling to apologize. I let it go to voice mail and then I wait and wait and wait for the message. Nothing. Finally I check my missed calls and see that it was Yamir.

  Now I’m stuck in that weird place not knowing if I should call him back or just ignore it.

  Ten minutes later, the phone rings again. It’s Yamir.

  “Hello.”

  “I thought you’d never answer,” he says.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I laugh, but I have no idea why.

  “Wanna come to Great Escape today? Me, Clint, Anthony, maybe Sunny and Evan are all going.”

  I don’t know what to say. “Um, I really can’t, Yamir. I feel like I need to be at the spa so people take me seriously.”

  Right after I say it, I regret it. I can go. I know I can. No one cares if I’m at the spa. No one wants me to be at the spa, even though I hate admitting that to myself.

  “You never want to do anything anymore, Luce-Juice.”

  “Don’t say that.” I start doodling on my desk blotter. Sometimes it helps me think more clearly. My thoughts are spiraling around in my head and I feel like I don’t have control over what I’m going to say next. “Anyway, I heard you think that girl Arianna is really pretty. Why don’t you invite her to Great Escape?”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s what Sunny said.” I should stop talking. I know I should. But I can’t. “She said you were talking to Clint about her.”

  “You’re crazy, Lucy,” Yamir says, all disgusted-sounding. “And anyway, I’m tired of asking you to do things and you saying no.”