The Silver Moon of Summer

by Leila Howland

  Back home the girls did so many activities and were on such busy schedules that the Silver family rarely ate dinner together. But here at Aunt Sunny’s house there was plenty of time for meals, and each one was a group effort.

  “I think I’d better start with five pancakes,” Zinnie said as she took her seat.

  “Me too,” Lily said, stuffing a handful of blueberries into her mouth as she plopped onto her chair. “I’m starving!”

  Marigold took a bite, and sweet, tangy, buttery deliciousness exploded on her tongue.

  “Oh gosh, I hope you’ve saved some for me,” Tony said as he walked into the kitchen. “It’s a big job checking for bat droppings. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  “You’re just in time,” Aunt Sunny said as Tony washed his hands. “Five minutes later, and you might have been out of luck.”

  “Hi, Tony,” Marigold said. Zinnie and Lily waved because their mouths were full.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Tony said before he gave Aunt Sunny a peck and took a seat at the table. As though she could read Marigold’s mind, Aunt Sunny slipped one more pancake onto Marigold’s plate and then divided the rest between herself and Tony.

  “Are we all clear, Tony?” Aunt Sunny asked. Then she took off her apron and sat across from Marigold.

  “This house is officially a bat-free zone,” Tony said, and gulped his coffee. “Mighty glad of it, too. Once those little fellas get in, it’s not easy to get ’em out.”

  “They’re just trying to project their young,” Lily said, her brow furrowed.

  Marigold smiled at Lily. Even though the bat had scared Marigold, she was proud of her littlest sister, who had become passionate about science ever since last summer, when she went to camp here in Pruet. It reminded Marigold of herself and how she felt about acting.

  “Study bats as much as you like, but let’s not let any more into the house,” Tony said. “I never did find out, why’d you take the screen off, Marigold?”

  “I was, um, just getting some fresh air,” Marigold said.

  “She was looking for Peter,” Lily said, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

  “I see,” Tony said to Marigold. Marigold felt her cheeks burn. She didn’t want to discuss her feelings for Peter publicly. For all Marigold knew, he had a girlfriend again this year! And how did Lily know that she had been thinking of Peter? “Young love is a beautiful thing.” She could tell Tony wasn’t trying to tease her. He was serious, but that made it more embarrassing.

  “I told you, I was looking at the stars,” Marigold said, staring at her plate.

  “And dreaming of Peter,” Zinnie said.

  “Guys,” Marigold said. She was about to raise her voice and demand that they leave her alone about Peter, but then remembered her promise not to fight. Instead, she took a deep breath.

  “Last summer I told Peter I’d be his girlfriend,” Lily explained to Tony, who nodded solemnly. Lily reached across the table to touch Marigold’s hand. “But it’s okay. Don’t worry, Marigold. I won’t get in the way. I know you’re in love with him.”

  “Oh my gosh! I’m not—” Marigold started, and then buttoned her lips. As annoyed as she was, she was also determined to keep the peace. She decided to change the subject. “What else is happening this summer?”

  “Aside from the parade, the regatta, the sand castle building contest, and the clambake?” Tony asked with a wink.

  “Actually, there is something else happening in addition to all these tricentennial events,” Aunt Sunny said. Then she stood up, walked to the bookcase, and picked up a black-and-white photo in a frame. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to share with you.”

  As she placed the frame on the table, the three sisters leaned in to get a look. Marigold took in the three girls pictured in the photo. She recognized Aunt Sunny immediately. She was the youngest one, with her hair in braids. Her eyes and smile were exactly the same as they were today. In the picture the girls were sitting in a canoe. The older ones were paddling, and Aunt Sunny was sitting in the middle, waving to whoever was taking the picture.

  “That’s you and your sisters, right?” Marigold asked.

  “Exactly. Beatrice and Esther and me,” Aunt Sunny said, pointing to each one.

  “What a bunch of sweethearts,” Tony said. Then he took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and placed them on his nose to get a better look. “You’re even prettier today than you were then.”

  “Oh hush,” said Aunt Sunny with a grin, and patted his hand. “Anyway, I was fourteen in this picture.”

  “My age exactly,” Marigold said.

  “That’s right,” said Aunt Sunny. “That’s why I’m showing you the photo. In our family it’s tradition that on a girl’s fourteenth summer, she and her sisters take a canoe up the Pruet River and camp out on Kettle Island. We build a fire, roast marshmallows, tell stories, sing, look at the stars, and celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what? Her birthday?” Zinnie asked. “That was in March.”

  “It’s a sort of birthday party,” Aunt Sunny said. “But more like we’re celebrating . . . growing up. Becoming a young woman.”

  “Like a Bat Mitzvah,” Marigold said. A lot of her friends had Bat Mitzvahs. She hadn’t because even though their dad was Jewish, she’d never gone to religious school. Whenever she’d asked about what the Bat Mitzvah was for, her parents told her it was about celebrating that the child was “coming-of-age,” which was another way to say growing up. Even though Marigold hadn’t been interested in religious school, she did think having a party to celebrate growing up sounded fun.

  “Or a quinceañera,” Zinnie said.

  Marigold nodded. Other friends of hers, like Pilar, were going to have a quinceañera, which was another way to make a big deal about growing up. Pilar had been planning hers for years. She said it was going to be almost as elaborate as a wedding—she’d get to wear a gorgeous dress and long white gloves and get tons of presents.

  “That sounds cool,” Marigold said. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized how much she wanted her own special celebration, because she did feel older this year in some very important way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And not only that, but her fourteenth birthday had been such a disappointment. It would be especially great if Peter could come along on the camping trip.

  “My girls had sweet sixteen parties,” Tony said.

  “Yes,” Aunt Sunny said. “It’s a bit like that, but just for family. And less of a party and more of an . . . adventure!”

  “Does it have to be just family?” Marigold asked.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Aunt Sunny asked.

  “Yeah,” said Lily, crossing her arms.

  “It sounds great and everything,” Marigold said, not wanting to hurt Aunt Sunny’s feelings. “It’s just that I already had a family-only party, and it might be fun to include more people.”

  “But Aunt Sunny wasn’t at your party,” Zinnie said.

  “That’s true,” Marigold said, smiling at her aunt—though by now she’d already pictured Peter and her looking up at the stars on the banks of a river in the middle of the night!

  “The truth is that I’m already breaking tradition by coming along myself,” Aunt Sunny said. “But Esther and Beatrice were quite a bit older than me, so it was different. They also knew that river like the backs of their hands, and you’ve never been there.”

  “You were an adventurer from the start, weren’t you, Sunny?” Tony said.

  “Sure was,” Aunt Sunny said.

  “I don’t think your parents would approve of me sending you down the river on your own,” Aunt Sunny said.

  “So maybe we could break the tradition even . . . a little more?” Marigold asked. “Like by including Peter and his family?”

  “Well, now, that’s something to consider,” Aunt Sunny said. “But really, what I’d love to pass on to you is the sisterly ritual. It’s something you’ll keep with you for the rest o
f your lives.”

  “I understand,” Marigold said, but she was disappointed. She was going to have enough time with her sisters this summer in their attic bedroom.

  “We’ll go swimming, build a campfire, and have s’mores,” Aunt Sunny said. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

  “Let’s call it ‘the fun fourteenth,’” Zinnie said.

  “I like that!” Aunt Sunny said.

  “Me too,” Marigold said with a smile, because Aunt Sunny seemed really excited about this.

  “When are we going on the fun fourteenth?” Lily asked as she picked up her plate to lick off the maple syrup.

  “That’s a good question,” Aunt Sunny said. “Before the tricentennial would be best, I think.”

  “We could go when there’s a full moon,” Lily said.

  “Definitely,” Zinnie said. “All kinds of crazy stuff happens when there’s a full moon.”

  “It affects the ocean’s tides,” Lily said.

  “I’ll get the canoe out and make sure it’s seaworthy. Or . . . river worthy!” Tony said as he brought his plate and mug to the sink. “I’ve got to get to work now—we’re starting a big job on the other side of the bridge today.”

  “Heavens. Me, too,” Aunt Sunny said, checking her watch. “The Piping Plover Society is creating exhibits for the tricentennial. And I’m also helping the Historical Society organize a tour of the oldest buildings in town. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

  “And I need to get to camp,” Lily said.

  “We’ll take you,” Marigold said.

  “How about you two?” Aunt Sunny asked Marigold and Zinnie. “What’s in the works for you today?”

  “The beach!” they answered together. One of the best parts about staying at Aunt Sunny’s was that they didn’t always have to have plans. They could take each day as it came and let it carry them into the evening, like riding a wave into the shore. All Marigold knew was that she wanted to see Peter Pasque as soon as possible. Before she got any more ideas in her head about midnight stargazing or horseback riding, she needed to find out if he had a girlfriend.

  “I must say, it’s great to see you girls,” Tony said as he reached for his hat and headed for the door. “This house comes alive when you’re here.”

  “Quick question,” Marigold said before he left the room. “Do you know if the person the town council chooses to be Eliza needs to live in Pruet year-round?”

  “I don’t see why that would be the case,” Tony answered. “Do you know, Sunny?”

  “As far as I know there’s no rule about that,” Aunt Sunny said with a twinkle in her eye.

  6 • The Idea Arrives, At Last!

  Cape Cod food? Tricentennials? True stories about sharing a room the size of a large closet with two sisters?

  Zinnie wracked her brain for a blog idea as she and her sisters walked toward town. They were on their way to drop Lily off at camp and then on to the town beach. Zinnie was hoping to see her friend Ashley. A little dramatic and always honest, Ashley cracked her up. And her Massachusetts accent was icing on the cake. Maybe she could help her think of an idea for her blog.

  “What am I going to blog about?” Zinnie asked her sisters as they walked toward town. Lily hopped up onto the stone wall and continued walking, balancing as if on a beam. Then she waved to the horses that lived in the pasture, like they were her old friends. The caramel-colored one swished her tail, and the white one with spots munched on grass.

  “Write about the summer in Cape Cod,” Marigold said.

  “I feel like it needs to be more specific than that,” Zinnie said. “I can’t just be like, day number one on Cape Cod, day number two on Cape Cod. I need to be more creative!”

  “No one else in your class is here,” Marigold said. “And we’re on the other side of the country. Things are different.”

  “Maybe,” Zinnie said, but she wasn’t convinced. “But isn’t that just like a diary?”

  “Isn’t that what blogs are?” Marigold asked as a few older kids in Pruet High School T-shirts rode by on bicycles. Marigold stopped to watch them. Lily bent down to study an insect crawling on the stones. In the distance, Zinnie heard hammering and a saw. Someone must have been doing construction. The kids on bikes made a right, disappearing around the bend. “I wonder if those kids are in Peter’s class. I wonder what it’s like to go to high school here.”

  “I guess blogs are kind of like diaries,” Zinnie said, too focused on the problem at hand to explore this idea with Marigold. “Come on, guys, I really need help. There’s nothing special about a plain old diary, even if it is on Cape Cod.”

  “Write about ladybugs,” Lily said as she lowered her hand to the stone wall and a ladybug crawled onto her finger. Then she slowly climbed off the wall to join her sisters, turning her hand over so that the ladybug settled in her palm.

  “What are the other girls writing about?” Marigold asked. Zinnie told them about Jenny’s and Madison’s projects.

  “The grandmother one is a good idea. I bet Aunt Sunny has an old diary,” Lily said, watching the ladybug fly away as they rounded the corner.

  “I can’t do the exact same idea,” Zinnie said as the general store, the yacht club, the casino, and Edith’s Ice Cream Shop came into view. Edith’s wasn’t open yet, but Zinnie’s stomach groaned at the thought of her delicious ice cream. She wondered what flavors Edith had come up with for the season.

  “That’d be copying,” Marigold explained to Lily. “Artists need to be original.”

  “It needs to be something that really gets the readers’ attention,” Zinnie said. “Hmm. What about an ice cream blog?”

  “Bats!” Lily said, turning to Zinnie as if this were the best idea on the planet.

  “Bats?” Zinnie asked. Lily nodded. “Well . . . I was thinking, what if that bat bit you and you slowly became a vampire over the summer? That’d make a good blog.”

  “Creepy!” Marigold said.

  “Exactly,” Zinnie said.

  “Look, vampire bats don’t really turn people into vampires. They do survive on blood, which is why people call them that, but they don’t live in the United States,” Lily said. “Anyway, you don’t need to make stuff up! They’re the only mammals that can fly. They can live for over thirty years and fly at up to sixty miles per hour! Bats are amazing. That could be the name of your blog—Amazing Bats!”

  “I’ll think about it,” Zinnie said. While she could see the vampire idea working for a story or a graphic novel, it didn’t seem to be blog material. Besides, after reading all fifteen books in the Fang City series, she was over vampires.

  “You could write about love,” Marigold said to Zinnie as they passed the yacht club.

  “You can write about love,” Zinnie said, watching as color filled her sister’s cheeks.

  “Maybe I will,” Marigold said, smiling mysteriously as she bent down to pick a wildflower.

  She was starting to think that Aunt Sunny was right about the fourteenth year bringing a big change. Marigold seemed to have crossed some invisible line that sometimes felt far away from Zinnie.

  “Lots of people want to read about love,” Marigold said.

  Should I write about romance? Zinnie wondered. She had liked Max last summer, though she couldn’t decide as what. Most of the time, he just felt like a friend. But Zinnie couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing him again filled her with a sweet, bright happiness, like a glass of cold lemonade on a hot day.

  “I gave you the best idea,” Lily said when they arrived at the casino, which was where the Young Naturalists campers met in the morning.

  “We’ll see you this afternoon,” Marigold said, giving Lily a squeeze. “Have fun.”

  “I will. Bye!” Lily said. She didn’t even turn around as she ran to meet her counselors and friends.

  “Hey, Ashley!” Zinnie called as soon as they got to the beach. She spotted her old friend right away in her usual spot at the snack stand.

  “Zinnie!�
�� Ashley shouted back. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing shorts and a Pruet town beach T-shirt.

  As Marigold went to spread her towel on the sand, Zinnie rushed over to say hi to Ashley. “What’s up?”

  “Just setting up for the day,” Ashley said, holding out a red ice pop. “So have a treat on the house and keep me company by telling me one of your funny stories.”

  “Thanks,” Zinnie said as she opened her ice pop. “Get this. Last night a bat flew in the window!”

  “A bat?” Ashley asked. “Oh no! Those beady eyes and sharp teeth. And all the germs! Gives me the shivahs!” Zinnie laughed as Ashley said, “Go on. Tell me what happened. I have to know! Did you call an exterminator? Did anyone get bit?” Her eyes widened. “Do you think it had rabies?”

  As Zinnie told Ashley the story, she realized that maybe Lily had a point about bats—they were entertaining. Ashley went into a fit of giggles when Zinnie told her about Marigold hiding under the bed, screamed when she told her about the possibility of the bat nesting in Zinnie’s curly hair, and cowered by the freezer as Zinnie recounted the moment Lily wrapped the bat in a pillowcase.

  “That sounds crazy!” Ashley said. “A real advencha. I’d go see that story in the thea-tah. You should turn it into a movie.”

  “Or a blog,” Zinnie said, realizing that perhaps Marigold had been right, too. Everyday life in Pruet could be its own hook. There were so many differences between Pruet and Los Angeles. She doubted anyone in her class had heard of hairy cows that wander near beaches or been to a clambake. Maybe she could call her blog Coast-to-Coast Summer Adventures. She could compare summer adventures on the East Coast to ones on the West Coast. Yes, that was it! That was the idea she was looking for!

  As Ashley took inventory of the granola bars and Zinnie finished her ice pop, she thought through how this would work. She had to write sixteen posts over eight weeks’ time. But she was only in Pruet for a little over two weeks. So, since she wanted the same number of posts for each coast, she’d have to have eight adventures here. That meant she’d have to have to find about four adventures a week! That might be kinda hard. She could start with the bat, anyway, and take it from there. As Zinnie hopped off the stool to help Ashley stock the fridge with sodas, she wondered about that old beech tree. She’d asked it for an idea, and it had delivered yet again. There was clearly something to her dad’s advice to “ask a tree” when it seemed like all the good ideas were taken. The thought of him and his round brown eyes and scratchy beard made Zinnie both smile and ache a bit inside. They were going to see their parents the day before the tricentennial, and for just a moment, that felt like an awfully long time.