The Silver Moon of Summer

by Leila Howland

“Yup!” Max had written. “See you then!”

  “I bet you can use Jean’s office at the yacht club. The Wi-Fi is pretty good there,” Marigold had said. “She goes home for lunch at noon, so maybe you can suggest that as a time.”

  She’d been feeling better about the situation. He wasn’t acting any differently. Maybe Marigold was right. She could just pretend it didn’t happen and all of her embarrassment would go away.

  As she waited for a few minutes for noon to arrive, though, she realized that even if she could make the embarrassment go away, her feelings were still hurt. He didn’t like her in the same way, and that just didn’t feel good. It had been better to have the question hanging in the air. As her computer screen brightened to life with the incoming request to video chat, she was instantly aware that she wasn’t over her embarrassment after all.

  “I’ll wait for you outside, okay?” Marigold asked.

  Zinnie nodded. She felt herself blush and her hands grow clammy, and she couldn’t stop bouncing her knees. She took a deep breath and answered the call. Max’s megawatt smile lit up her screen.

  “Hi! Where are you?” Max asked. He seemed pretty normal.

  “I’m, um, at the yacht club,” Zinnie said. She picked up her computer to give him a view of the harbor.

  “That’s awesome!” he said. “Check this out.” She watched on his screen as he showed her canals with narrow boats on them.

  “Wow! Where are you exactly?” Zinnie asked. So far, so good. If they could just talk about everything else but the embarrassing conversation, maybe this would be okay.

  “Venice, Italy,” Max said. “My dad is stationed in Vincenza, and Mom and I decided to spend a few nights here before my dad joins us and we fly to Boston. Isn’t this place cool?”

  “It’s amazing,” Zinnie said as a breeze came through the window. The air felt cool and fresh. The wind carried the salty smell of the sea and whiffs of something floral her way—honeysuckle, she thought.

  “So we’re going to write a song,” Max said.

  “Yeah,” Zinnie said, and held up her notebook. “I have all these ideas here. We just need to turn them into something good.”

  “Okay, let me grab my guitar,” Max said, leaving Zinnie with the view from the balcony of his hotel room. She drew several deep breaths while she had the chance. A few moments later, Max reappeared on the screen with his guitar. As he bowed his head to tune it, Zinnie noticed that his hair was longer. He was so cute! Especially when he was concentrating on something. He began to strum a happy tune.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  Zinnie nodded her head along with the beat. “Something a little slower, maybe?”

  He slowed it down a little, and with his pinkie, plucked a few high notes. “That’s perfect,” Zinnie said.

  Max kept playing and said, “Let’s hear some words.” Zinnie felt a little rush of excitement as she recognized the playful glimmer in Max’s eyes. “I’ll start. There’s a list of reasons to love Pruet . . . ,” he sang.

  “We don’t possibly have time to go through it,” Zinnie sang in response. She was tone deaf, but she did the best she could. Max laughed a little as he strummed again.

  “But we can start at the top and see how it goes,” Max said.

  “And where we’ll end up, nobody knows,” Zinnie said. Max wrinkled his nose. “Not quite right—let’s try again. What rhymes with ‘goes’ . . . ? ‘Nose’? ‘Bows’? ‘Shows’?”

  “I’ll play again and just see what comes to your mind,” Max said.

  “Feel the Pruet love from your head to your toes,” Zinnie sang.

  “Yes!” Max said.

  Zinnie and Max sang for another hour, working though the list of everything she and her sisters had come up with until they had a rough draft.

  “I’ll finish it tonight and email it ASAP,” Zinnie said. “Will you be able to practice with us, like, as soon as you get here?”

  “You bet. I’ll see you soon!”

  “I can’t wait,” Zinnie said before she could stop herself. Her cheeks turned pink.

  “Me either,” Max said. “Listen, about the other day, when you told me—”

  “Never mind,” Zinnie said. “Just forget all about it, okay? I didn’t mean it.”

  “Really?” Max asked.

  Zinnie nodded.

  “I’d better go,” Max said. “That was fun.”

  “It was,” said Zinnie. They signed off. Zinnie closed her computer and then slumped on top of it. How was she going to continue to hide her feelings when he was so adorable?

  When she walked out of the yacht club, Marigold was waiting for her on the lawn, watching the crew pack up the last of the set.

  “How’d it go?” Marigold asked.

  “Good,” Zinnie said.

  “See, I told you it would be okay!” Marigold said as the last of Mr. Rathbone’s crew trucks rolled out of the parking lot.

  38 • A Morning Full of Good Ideas

  The next morning Marigold couldn’t wait for Zinnie to wake up so she could show her what she’d been working on all night. The night before, Zinnie had made Marigold promise that she would let her sleep in the next day.

  “I promise I’ll have something good for you,” Zinnie had told her. “But I don’t know how long it will take me tonight.”

  “Okay,” Marigold had said. “I’ll wait for you to wake up on your own.”

  But now she was pacing. It was almost nine thirty, and they still had to photocopy the maps for the Historical Society’s tour and fold the brochures for the Piping Plover Society’s exhibits.

  “Here you go,” Zinnie said when she came down the stairs. She handed her song lyrics to Marigold. “There are four verses and a chorus,” Zinnie explained as Marigold read them over. “Max will sing the verses and play the guitar.”

  “Zinnie, this is perfect,” Marigold said as she shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She couldn’t believe how sweet and funny, not to mention actable, the lyrics were. “Thank you so much. It’s like all the verses are little scenes about what’s great about Pruet.”

  “That was the plan,” Zinnie said as she poured herself a bowl of Cheerios and added a heaping teaspoon of sugar. “That way we can act them out while Max sings. Where’s Aunt Sunny?”

  “She and Tony are out on a morning walk,” Marigold said as she read over the lyrics once again. “This is going to work so well. And guess what? I have good news, too.”

  “What’s that?” Zinnie asked as Lily entered the kitchen, all dressed and ready for camp.

  “I texted Chloe last night, and she said she would be happy to help with choreography,” Marigold said. “With all of her experience with Mr. Rathbone, I think she’ll help us look really polished and professional.”

  “I love that idea!” Lily said.

  “We don’t need Chloe for that,” Zinnie said. “We can do it ourselves.”

  “What do you have against Chloe all of a sudden?” Marigold asked. Zinnie had always seemed to be dying to hang out with Chloe.

  “Nothing,” Zinnie said, though Marigold could tell she was hiding something. Was Zinnie just jealous? “I just don’t think we need her for that, is all. You’ll be a great director. Besides, you want to be Eliza Pruet, remember? You need to make sure that you’re the one who gets the credit for this.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe you’re right,” Marigold said. “Though I still want to hang out with her today.” Marigold pulled out her phone and started texting, but Zinnie grabbed her phone away from her.

  “No,” Zinnie said. “Don’t.”

  “Hey,” Marigold said, taking her phone back. “What’s your problem? Just because you’re not going to school with Chloe and can’t be best friends with her doesn’t mean you have to ruin my—” But just then they heard Aunt Sunny and Tony coming through the front door. They had made it this long without fighting in front of Aunt Sunny. Marigold wasn’t going to break her promise now.

  “I don’t hav
e a problem,” Zinnie whispered. “I just think we can do a great job on our own.”

  “The important thing is that we all have fun,” Lily said through gritted teeth.

  “Exactly, Lily. I appreciate your input, Zinnie, but I’m allowed to hang out with who I want to.”

  Aunt Sunny and Tony, all rosy cheeks and smiles, walked into the kitchen just as Marigold hit “send.”

  “Good morning, girls,” Aunt Sunny said as she poured herself a cup of decaf and started making her special coffee.

  “Good morning,” the girls answered in an overly cheerful unison.

  “How was your walk?” Marigold asked.

  “Glorious—I’m so relieved that Mr. Rathbone and his people have left so that we can have some peace again. Nothing against him personally,” Tony said, “but it’s nice to have our sleepy town back.”

  “The walk by the harbor was especially invigorating. Tony and I have just had a marvelous idea,” Aunt Sunny said.

  “That’s so funny,” Marigold said. “We’ve all had good ideas this morning.”

  “Must be something in the air,” Tony said, and offered Aunt Sunny some sugar for her coffee before pouring his own.

  “The festivities for the tricentennial kick off on Friday afternoon. And as you know, your parents and Max and his folks are arriving that morning,” Aunt Sunny began. “But the big clambake isn’t until after the regatta on Saturday. There’s nothing planned for Friday night.”

  “So, we thought we’d throw a little party at the lighthouse,” Tony said. “For our family and dearest friends—the Pasques.”

  “Yay!” the girls all cheered.

  “We’ll have fresh lobsters,” Tony said. “It’ll be a blast.”

  “I love lobster,” Zinnie said.

  “Can I invite Chloe?” Marigold asked.

  “Aunt Sunny said the party was for our dearest friends only,” Zinnie said.

  “Do you consider Chloe a dear friend?” Aunt Sunny asked.

  “I do,” Marigold said.

  “Then by all means, ask her to come,” Aunt Sunny said.

  Marigold gave a worried-looking Zinnie a triumphant look and sent her friend another text.

  39 • Can’t Fool a Sister

  “I read your blog post about the water tower,” Chloe said to Zinnie privately when she came over to Aunt Sunny’s at Marigold’s invitation. “How come you didn’t mention I was Brave13?”

  Zinnie was surprising even herself with her productivity. She’d been able to squeeze in another blog post right after breakfast but before she and Marigold had dropped off Lily. She felt differently about all of her adventures now that she knew it was Chloe who had given her the tips. She’d debated even writing about the water tower. After all, this adventure contained the climax of her whole blog—the revealed identity of the mysterious Brave13. She didn’t want to deny that to her readers. At the same time it would really hurt Marigold’s feelings if she knew the truth. She was not about to do that to her sister—again.

  She’d come up with a compromise. She would write about her visit to the water tower (the panoramic pictures were too good not to post), but leave out the part about Chloe. Instead, she would focus on the journey of getting there, the rickety steps to the top, and the moment she thought she might fall off.

  “I think that might hurt my sister’s feelings,” Zinnie whispered, looking over her shoulder at her sister, who was preparing a tray of lemonade and cookies.

  “I get that you’re sisters, but you and I are allowed to have our own friendship, right? It’s not like she’s the boss of you—even if she thinks she is.”

  “I know,” Zinnie said.

  “I’m not sure what your favorite kind of cookie is,” Marigold called from the kitchen. “So I’m arranging an assortment—all homemade, of course.”

  “Thanks,” Chloe said, and then leaned in a little closer to Zinnie. “Is she going to be following us everywhere at the lighthouse party?”

  Now Zinnie really felt sick. If Marigold could hear this conversation, she wouldn’t just be angry, she’d be heartbroken. She really liked Chloe—she was adventurous and original and creative and smart—but going behind her sister’s back was making Zinnie uneasy in her own skin.

  “You know what?” Zinnie said. “I don’t think you should come to that party anymore.”

  “Why?” Chloe asked, confused. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are,” Zinnie whispered.

  “But I feel like you want me to leave,” Chloe responded in a full voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Zinnie whispered again. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come to the party.”

  “Uh, Zinnie?” Marigold called from the kitchen. “I could use some help over here! Can you move this table? And Chloe, please don’t leave, just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  “It’s better if we don’t talk about this anymore,” Zinnie said to Chloe.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little rude to Chloe?” Marigold asked Zinnie in a harsh whisper as she pulled her sister aside.

  “No,” Zinnie said.

  “Then why did she say it seemed like you wanted her to leave?” Marigold said. “She’s never going to want to come over to our house this fall if she thinks we’re rude.”

  “Okay, I’m confused,” Zinnie said, trying to avoid the real conflict. “First, you didn’t want me to hang out with her at all, and now you want me to be her friend all of a sudden?”

  “Oh, come on,” Marigold said. “Just because I wanted some time alone with her doesn’t mean I want you to be mean. There’s a huge difference and you know it.”

  “Sorry,” Zinnie said. Marigold was right. She did know the difference. But the situation was so much more complicated than Marigold knew. There was no way she was going to tell Marigold the truth. It would crush her, especially after the year with the Cuties. “I guess I’m just a little stressed out because Madison’s blog has way more hits than mine, and I don’t think my last entries were very good. It’s been going downhill ever since the bison.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?” Marigold said.

  “I’m positive,” Zinnie said, avoiding her sister’s gaze. “You know how much I want to be editor in chief of Muses.”

  “Everything okay?” Chloe asked from the living room.

  “Just fine,” Marigold said, and they peeked around the corner.

  Chloe looked wounded. Zinnie’s stomach knotted up. It was clear all of a sudden—Chloe didn’t have a sister so she didn’t understand the position that Zinnie was in or how Zinnie could both not be able to stand Marigold and love her fiercely at the very same time. All Chloe understood was that she’d been uninvited to the lighthouse party.

  “Just one second! We’ll be right in!” Then Marigold turned to Zinnie. “I feel like you’re hiding something.”

  “Nope,” Zinnie said, trying her best to look relaxed.

  “You think you can fool me, but you can’t. I’m your sister,” Marigold said with a satisfied smile. “I know what it is.”

  “You do?” Zinnie asked, her stomach dropping.

  “Yep,” Marigold said, nodding her head. “It’s Max! Of course! He’s coming tomorrow, and you’re freaking out.”

  “Things went fine on our video chat,” Zinnie said. “I followed your advice and just acted normal, and it was okay.”

  “I get it, Zin,” Marigold said, and gave Zinnie a squeeze. “You’re afraid that even though you got through that video chat okay, you’re going to act superweird when you see him in person. Plus, with him not liking you back, you’re worried you won’t even be friends anymore. I totally understand.”

  “That’s not it,” Zinnie said, though it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d be so nervous and weird that she and Max wouldn’t even be able to have a friendship. The best thing about hanging out with him was that she always found herself being even more creative and funny than she already was.

  �
��Let’s get out of this pantry,” Marigold said. “And now that we’ve figured out the root of your odd behavior, do you think you could at least try to be nice to Chloe, while, you know, still giving us some space?”

  “Sure,” Zinnie said, feeling more anxious than ever. “I mean, I’ll try.”

  40 • The Power of Suggestion

  I’m not nervous, Zinnie told herself the next day as she heard a car rumbling down the driveway and a few moments later Max’s voice calling out, “We’re here!”

  She was up in the attic bathroom, brushing her hair, trying to push out the anxious thoughts that Marigold had put into her head. The power of suggestion was what her dad called it when she didn’t crave something until she saw a commercial for it. This was weirdly similar. Until Marigold had put the idea in her mind, Zinnie hadn’t considered that her feelings for Max would ruin her friendship with him. It was so unfair! She couldn’t control that the thought of his smile made her heart race!

  “Zinnie, Max is here!” Lily called from downstairs.

  “I’m coming!” Zinnie replied, and gave herself a firm look in the mirror. Stop worrying, she told herself silently as the butterflies in her stomach seemed to multiply. This is Max. Your friend.

  “Zinnie!” Marigold called. “Max brought us something!”

  “Okay,” Zinnie said. She took a deep breath and smiled at her reflection. Hmm. She looked a little pale. She pinched her cheeks the way she’d seen Marigold do right before an audition and splashed some cold water on her face. Then she patted her skin dry and went downstairs.

  At the very same moment that she rounded the corner of the stairwell, Max was running toward the kitchen, a box under his arm. Was this the surprise he’d been talking about? It had to be. Zinnie couldn’t stop her body in time and they collided—hard.

  “Whoops, sorry!” Zinnie said, wincing as she rubbed her head.

  “No, I’m sorry. It was my fault,” Max said, covering his eye with his hand. “I shouldn’t have been running in the house. I was just excited to give this to you.” He tapped the box. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Zinnie said, looking up and registering how close they were standing to each other. Max’s face was just inches from her own. And he was . . . beautiful. His eyes had flecks of gold. They looked like the Pacific Ocean on a simmering summer afternoon—even though one of them was a little red and looked like it might be swelling. His light brown hair, which was longish now, had a blond streak in it from the sun. And his smile—she swore—was even bigger than last year!