Give color a chance from time to time.
It’s a great mood enhancer. —Laura Mercier
Grandma asks me. She’s sitting on the front porch in her favorite wicker rocking chair reading the Sunday paper. She has a heat lamp next to her to keep warm.
Sunday is her favorite day, because the pharmacy opens at noon and closes at five. She says Sunday is the only day she has a drop of time to herself.
“Nothing, really,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt hood up.
“Nothing, really?” Grandma asks, like she knows that’s impossible.
“Well, okay. You know how I’ve been going to Earth Club?”
Grandma nods.
“Well, I think we should go green. At the pharmacy.”
Grandma tilts her head and smiles at me. “Lucy, you’re so sweet,” she says. “I love how much you care about everything that’s going on with the store.”
“No, Grandma,” I say. “I mean it. We can do it.”
“Lucy, you’re twelve. Try to stop worrying about this. Just enjoy being a kid, okay?”
“Never mind,” I mumble and get up from the porch. I should have known she wouldn’t take me seriously. All adults are the same that way: Grandma, Mrs. Deleccio, even my mom, most of the time. They don’t think kids can do anything except go to school and have fun.
I go inside to see if Claudia has e-mailed me the grant application yet. Earlier she had said it was almost all filled out but she wanted to double-check it before we talked to Mom and Grandma about it.
I’m so excited that I’m practically skipping down the hall into the computer room. I turn on the computer, but as soon as I sign on, the computer shuts off again. So do all the lights in the house.
I figure it’s a little rainstorm or something. That kind of thing happens all the time in an old town like Old Mill. But I look out the window and it’s still a beautiful, sunny day.
Did a power line fall? Is something wrong with the electric company?
“Jane!” I hear Grandma calling. “Jane Scarlett Desberg. Where are you?”
Uh-oh. Suddenly I realize this has very little to do with the outside world and everything to do with my mother.
I lean my head over the railing so that I can hear their conversation downstairs.
“Ma, I paid.”
“When was the last time you paid? In full.” Grandma’s talking in her serious voice now.
“I don’t pay in full. I pay what I can pay. I’ve arranged a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“A payment plan. I explained our hardship.”
“Jane! What did you pay last month? I want to know figures. Amounts. Stop being so vague!”
“I didn’t pay last month, Ma. I paid other bills last month.”
“And the month before?”
“The electric bill was at the bottom of the pile. It might not have gotten paid.”
“Jane!” Grandma’s voice gets louder. “When I put you in charge of the bills I thought you could handle it. But you can’t. Lucy could handle it better than you!”
Oh no. I couldn’t. Really, I couldn’t.
“Ma, please stop screaming.”
“You have left us without electricity in the middle of winter!”
“Actually, no,” Mom starts. “Winter doesn’t even technically begin until December twenty-first.”
I cover my mouth, trying as hard as I can not to laugh. Mom’s not even trying to be funny. She’s just a little bit clueless sometimes.
“You’re done with the bills. All I ask is that you show up at the pharmacy and do your work.”
“You think I choose not to pay the bills? That’s what you think?”
Grandma doesn’t respond.
“No. Not at all,” Mom continues. “After I pay the pharmacy bills and the mortgage, there’s very little left. Then I have to pay Claudia’s tuition and go grocery shopping and buy whatever else we need. Then, with whatever tiny bit of money is left, I try to tackle the household bills.”
“That’s it,” Grandma says. I’m tired of standing up and leaning over the railing, so I sit down on the carpet in the hallway and lean against the wall. “The pharmacy isn’t succeeding at all. It’s a bust at this point. This happens all the time. Local businesses closing.”
“Ma, no. That’s not the answer.”
“What’s the answer, then? Tell me.”
“I don’t know, but we have to try. We can’t let a big company in to take our place. Do you know how they treat their employees?”
Now would be a perfect time to jump in and tell them everything, but I’m too scared. I don’t want to say it at the wrong time and have them get angry and then tell me I can’t apply for the grant anymore. The annoying part about being a kid is that adults can tell you what to do, and I can’t stand the idea of having to give up.
Grandma doesn’t say anything, but I don’t need to be down there to know what’s happening. I bet Grandma’s making faces at my mother. Looking at her like she’s lost her mind.
“We can take out a loan. A very low-interest loan.”
“You’re serious right now?” Grandma asks.
“One hundred percent serious.”
“You’re talking about getting into more debt! When we don’t even have enough money to pay the electric bill?” Grandma’s yelling at the top of her lungs at this point, and I’m pretty sure Mr. Bicks, next door on one side, and Mr. and Mrs. Louie, on the other side, can hear them.
“Just think about it. Because I don’t see you coming up with any solutions.”
After that, no one says anything. I keep thinking I need to go and read over the grant application one more time, because now is the time to tell them. The fight clinched it. Now is the time to make them realize that there is a solution.
Luckily, there’s still some battery left on my cell phone. I text Claudia: We have to tell them. NOW.
She texts back: OK. I’m done with it. It’s perfect. Call me when ur eating dinner and we’ll tell them together.
I don’t want to tell her we don’t have electricity right now. I’m just hoping it’ll be back on by then.
Beauty tip: Crying can make your skin look blotchy and
red, but it usually does make you feel better.
to make,” I tell Mom and Grandma as soon as we’re sitting down to dinner. It’s already almost nine, but the electricity only came back on twenty minutes ago, after Grandma begged someone over my cell phone. “And Claudia is on speaker.”
“Hey, Claud,” Mom says, sounding exhausted. “What a nice surprise. We can all have dinner together.” Even Grandma smiles at that, and it starts to feel like the old days, when we were all living together and everyone was happy—or at least, it seemed that way.
“Hi, everyone.” Claudia’s voice sounds scratchy and far away through the speakerphone.
“How’s Macro going?” Grandma asks. I roll my eyes. This is so not the time for small talk, and I hope Claudia will put a stop to it.
“Good, good,” Claudia says. “But Lucy and I need to talk to you.” She says it seriously, so Mom and Grandma look at each other like something’s really wrong. Like Claudia needs a kidney and I’ve already decided to give it to her.
“You two give me agita, you know that?” Grandma says. “What are you troublemakers up to now?”
“Lucy, I’ll talk first,” Claudia says. I nod, even though she can’t see me, and then giggle nervously.
“What I’m about to tell you is really all Lucy’s idea. I just did some of the legwork. It’s no secret what kind of situation the pharmacy is in. Times have changed. People are shopping at places that offer major discounts. I know what’s been going on. And I—”
“Claudia, just get to the point,” I say, staring at the veggie burger on my plate.
“Okay, okay.” Claudia sighs, and it sounds loud through the phone. “One day at Earth Club, Lucy was doing some online research, and she discovered a grant Mayor Danes is offering.
And she told me about it. And we’ve filled it out together. I’ve mailed it in already. All done. Nothing for you to do, so there’s no way you can say no.”
“What?” Grandma says. “What kind of craziness is this? Show me the grant.”
“In a minute, Grams,” I say. “Shh.”
Claudia tells them all about the grant and about going green, and of course Mom starts flipping out. She literally stands up in her chair and starts cheering and clapping her hands.
Then she stops cheering long enough to say, “This is exactly the kind of drive and determination I always hoped you two would have. Making changes! Big changes! Thinking outside the box, and not just status quo.”
“Anyway,” Claudia says. “Like I said, I’ve already mailed it in. So there’s not much you can do but thank us. We’re waiting for the ‘thank you’ part, Grandma.”
Grandma proceeds to ask us a billion and one questions. She eats a french fry every now and then, but she’s only had a bite or two of her veggie burger, and it doesn’t look like she’s going to eat any more. She asks us how much the grant is for, when we’ll get the results, and what we have to do after we get the grant.
“See, Grams,” I say. “We’ll have more money to put into the store this way. Plus, the publicity from the grant will bring in customers! Situation solved.” I smile, dipping my finger in the ketchup on the side of my plate. “Oh, we didn’t even tell you the most important part! Remember when Morrie told you guys about how you should expand?”
Grandma nods and gives me a look. “But I don’t remember you being invited in on that conversation, Lucy.”
I smile. “Sorry. Anyway, part of the grant involves expanding. And we’re going to expand by opening up an ecospa. I mean, we practically have one already. With the makeup and the Relaxation Room and everything.”
“Lucy, my love, I don’t want to rain on your parade. But this won’t solve all our problems.”
“What?” Claudia and I ask at the same time.
“If we even were to get the grant, it would pay for all of the new green products and whatever eco-spa you’re talking about,” Grandma says to me after a sip of water. “But after that we wouldn’t have enough to keep the pharmacy running. Business isn’t picking up.”
“But think of how well we’ll do once we have the green stuff,” I say. “And the spa will bring in tons of business! We’ll be back on our feet. People will shop at the pharmacy more because of all the new stuff.”
At this point, I’ve kind of forgotten that Claudia’s on speaker. She hasn’t said anything in a while.
“Listen, Luce, we tried,” Claudia says, finally. “Okay? The grant’s already in the mail, so let’s just see. I gotta go, everyone. Love you all.”
As soon as Claudia hangs up, I say, “Grandma, don’t you get it? Having an eco-friendly pharmacy will make us different. People will want to shop there. People want to save the earth! And the spa will be eco-friendly too!” I say, louder than I intended to. “Do you even know how many earth-friendly businesses there are?”
Grandma looks at Mom and then at me. “Lucy, I love you. But I wish you wouldn’t have gotten so involved in something that wasn’t really your business.” Grandma’s voice is monotone now; she’s not even yelling. I know she’s mad, because she’s having a hard time looking at me.
“Grandma,” I say. “What happened to faith?”
She tilts her head to the side and stares at me for a second. “Who’s Faith?”
I don’t respond.
“I love you for trying, Lucy. You are beautiful inside and out,” Grandma says.
I bet if it were Claudia, brilliant Claudia, who’d found the grant, they’d take it more seriously. But no, because it’s me, little Lucy, everyone thinks it’s cute, and that’s it.
I hate being twelve.
Later that night, Claudia texts me: Don’t worry, Luce. It’ll be OK.
No, it won’t. The store will close. I know it.
We’ll think of something else.
They won’t ever take me seriously.
Chin up, Lucy. OK? ILY
ILY2
Business tip: Talk and listen to your employees. it seems
simple, but it’s very important.
I tell Sunny about what happened when we told Mom and Grandma about the grant. “They didn’t even really take it seriously,” I say. “Claudia already mailed it in, but it’s not even gonna make a difference.”
“Sorry, Lucy.” Sunny puts her arm around me. “I thought it was such a good idea.”
“I did too,” I say defensively. “Whatever, there’s no point in talking about it now.” Thinking about the grant only makes me upset. And I have other stuff going on anyway.
The eighth-grade masquerade is on Thursday, and Yamir wasn’t kidding when he said he’d have kids come in so that I could do their makeup. Yamir and his friends have told me they are coming in, and so have a bunch of the eighth-grade girls. I’m not sure if they’re gonna want regular makeup or costume makeup, but I guess we’ll see.
“Lucy, please make sure all of the kids coming in and out are quiet, okay? I don’t need these shenanigans completely disrupting the pharmacy,” Grandma says to me as soon as I walk into the store after school on Thursday. “Because I do have regular customers. I do have a few of those left.”
“Fine, Grams.” I’m putting all of the different face paints and makeups on a display table so everyone can pick what they want. “But wait until you see how much business this brings in.”
“Mmm-hmmm. Lucy, I hope you’re still working hard in school and not spending every second on this makeup stuff,” Grandma says, walking away from me. I swear she becomes more pessimistic every day.
School got out at one today, so I rushed over to the pharmacy to get everything ready. But I still have an hour or so before the kids start showing up for appointments. I have the worst nervous stomach. It feels like there are a billion of those little bouncy balls bouncing around my insides, and I don’t know how to stop them.
At three on the dot, Yamir, Clint, Anthony, Erica Crane, and her sidekick, Marnie, walk into the store.
“Hey Luce-Juice,” Yamir says. “We’re ready for you to work your magic on us.”
“Magic?” Erica Crane sneers. “Um, okay.”
“Erica, why are you even here? You’re not in eighth grade.” I know that’s probably not a nice way to speak to customers, but it’s true. I’m just stating a fact.
“Yamir,” Erica says, and smiles at him. “Tell her, please.”
“Oh, Erica’s going as my date,” Yamir says with no emotion whatsoever.
“No one brings dates to the eighth-grade masquerade,” I say.
“Well, I’m starting something new.” Erica folds her arms across her chest and glares at me. “Got a problem with it? No? Okay. I didn’t think so.”
Yamir Ramal is bringing a date to the masquerade. I can’t even believe it. What is his mother going to think?
“Lucy, you okay?” I hear Clint ask. “We decided I would go first.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine.” I smile. “So what are you going as?”
“I just want dripping blood down my face. So, like, a really pale white face, with blood dripping all over it.”
“I thought you guys weren’t allowed to be anything violent,” I say.
“Whatever. The teachers love me,” Clint says. “No problemo.”
After I do Clint’s makeup, Yamir and Anthony tell me they want the exact same thing. I do Anthony’s pretty well, but I rush through Yamir’s. It feels too awkward to be touching his face like this. I don’t like it. I hate when my hand brushes against his cheek and he laughs. It wouldn’t feel so weird if the other kids weren’t here too, if Erica wasn’t here, Erica his date. But with all of them here, I just want it to be over.
Then it’s Marnie’s turn, but all she wants is eye shadow, and that doesn’t take very long. Thankfully, she doesn’t talk much. Last and very much least, it’s
Erica’s turn.
“What do you want, Erica?” I ask her, praying she’ll just want lipstick.
“I want to look like an actress in an old movie,” she starts. “Like, rosy red cheeks, light eye makeup, bright lipstick.”
I start doing her makeup and feel really relieved when Yamir and the boys go to the toy section.
The bouncy-ball feeling I had before is turning into a churning, sick, nauseous feeling. And I don’t know why. All of a sudden, I’m mad at Erica—really, really, really mad. And I’m mad at Yamir too.
I’m putting way too much eye shadow on Erica, and I don’t really care. I hope she looks horrible. I hope people look at her and laugh. I hope Yamir changes his mind at the last minute and says he can’t go with her.
“Ow, Lucy!” Erica yelps. “You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry,” I say. I couldn’t have been hurting her. I was barely even touching her. Maybe Erica will look so ugly Yamir won’t even be able to look at her. But he already said he was taking a date. So he’ll have to take me instead. Yeah, that’ll work.
“You’re all done, Erica,” I say, brushing more and more bright red blush on her cheeks. “All done.”
I don’t understand what is going on with me right now. Why in the world do I wish that Yamir would take me to the eighth-grade masquerade? Why? This is like how Sunny described her Evan crush. It just happened to her. And it just happened to me. Just now. I like Yamir Ramal. Why is this happening? Where did this come from?
Grandma walks over to me and asks, “And what do we have here?”
“I told you. Doing makeup for the eighth-grade masquerade,” I say, all matter-of-fact. “It’s been great for business so far, Grams.” I look over at the boys, who have each bought a bag of chips and a soda, and at Marnie, who has one of the pharmacy’s red baskets filled with makeup. I’m hoping Erica will say something about how so many kids are coming to me so that I can do their makeup, but she doesn’t. Instead she gets up and walks over to join Marnie.
PG01. My Life in Pink & Green Page 12
