“So how’ve you been, Rachel?” He gives me a warm smile. “How’s school?”
“Great, thanks.” My sister and I destroyed the gym, but now I’m dating the soc president, so all is good. “And you?”
“It’s been a busy few weeks. Baseball tourism kicks up again in the spring, so I’ve been leading a whole lot of tours.”
Miri returns from the phone call and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “She’s not answering,” she says, ignoring Lex.
He gives her the same warm smile and tips his hat. “You must be Miri.”
She rolls her eyes. “Brilliant assumption.”
Terrif. My mom’s not answering, so I have to dump Lex for her. I’ve never dumped a guy myself, so how am I supposed to dump one for someone else? I rack my brains for the excuses I’ve heard in the movies. It’s not you, it’s me. Can we be friends? It’s not a good time emotionally for me right now.
Not that my mom deserves my creative excuse-making. Forget her; I’ll just be honest. “We don’t know where my mother is,” I explain. “I don’t know what to tell you. She could be on her way home. You’re welcome to come in and wait.”
Lex’s brow wrinkles in concern. “Did she have to go into the office this morning?”
Yeah, right. The office of love. “I think so,” I say instead.
“I can hang out.” He looks from Miri to me. “As long as you two don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” My heart sinks in sympathy. He brings us flowers and my mom can’t even bother to show up? “Can I get you something to drink?”
He removes his shoes, lines them up, hangs his hat on the coatrack, and follows me into the living room. “Water would be terrific.”
That’s something we have lots of. Lots and lots and lots of. Would he like it boiling? As I’m fetching a glass, I hear, “Is it all right if I use the bathroom?”
“Of course,” I say over the running water in the sink. As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize my mistake. “Wait!” I scream. Too late.
The door is open and the steam is rushing out. “Is someone inside?” he asks, obviously confused.
I’m about to say “Miri” when she appears next to me.
We’re putting in a spa? Trying ashtanga yoga? “Shower’s broken.”
He squints into the haze of steam. “Do you want me to take a look at it?”
That could be a recipe for disaster. On the other hand, “Why not?”
He steps inside, and his face is immediately dripping with sweat. I hope he’s not too old for this type of activity. A heart attack would be very bad. I don’t even know CPR. But I have always wanted to learn it. I’ve also always wanted to learn the Heimlich maneuver. I once saw a woman pop a chicken bone right out of a man’s constricted throat. I bet Miri would be up for that since she’s so into lifesaving these days. “Mir,” I start, but then stop myself. Maybe this is not the time.
Miri is hitting me in the thigh with the back of her hand. “What if he realizes that the shower is cursed?” she mouths.
I wave her away and step into the bathroom after Lex. Come on. It’s not like he’s going to make that leap. Shower’s broken, one of these girls must be a witch!
“Just watch him, please,” Miri grumbles, and returns to her room.
“This is odd,” he mumbles from somewhere in the steam. “I’m going to try taking apart the valve handle. If that doesn’t work, I’ll try the water source in the basement. Do you have a wrench?”
Blink, blink.
He laughs. “Where’s your toolbox?”
That we have. Somewhere. I return a few minutes later and carry the toolbox into the sweatbox. “You know what you’re doing?”
“Yup. Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t burn yourself.” We don’t want a lawsuit on our hands.
“The hot ran out. It’s just cold water now, which makes it easier.”
“Good.” I’m sure everyone preparing for Saturday evening plans appreciates it.
“So what are you up to? Entertain me with stories while I fix this.”
“We’re having an auction to raise money for the prom. My boyfriend is the president of our student council . . .” I go on and on, and he actually seems interested, nodding and asking questions. After ten minutes his shirt is totally damp and what’s left of his gray hair is all wet.
“This should do it,” he says as he makes one quick turn of the screwdriver. And then, the water stops coming.
Oh. My. God. He’s like a magician. Okay, not exactly, since his skills have successfully reversed magic, not provided more, but still. Wow. “Thank you so much,” I say, quite amazed. “Miri! He did it!”
Miri comes into the foggy bathroom. “That’s imposs—” She stops talking when she sees that the water is no longer running. “Oh. Thanks.”
How did he do that? Maybe magic was involved. Maybe he’s a witch too. Or a wizard. Warlock? Weirdo? Nah. If he were, he wouldn’t have two massive sweat stains under his arms. How cute is that? Mortal, anyway. And nice. Even though Mom is MIA, he still messed himself up to help us.
Perhaps encouraging Mom to date other guys was not my best plan.
Lex glances at his watch. “It’s been a real pleasure, girls, but it seems your mother has forgotten our plans, so I guess I’ll take off. Please tell her I stopped by.” He heads to the door, steps into his shoes, and plants his hat firmly on his head.
Awwwwwww. He’s so nice! Much nicer than Adam or the fireman. They’re cute, but they’ve never given us anything or acted remotely interested in us. Why did I butt into Mom’s private business? And he’s so handy. If I had only encouraged Mom to date Lex exclusively, by now they’d be practically engaged. And that hard-to-reach bedroom light-bulb would be long changed. And Mom wouldn’t be running around like a chicken with five heads.
“Hope to see you soon,” Miri says, her voice sounding sad. Apparently, even my I-want-Mom-to-be-miserable-and-alone-and-all-ours sister has been charmed by Lex.
He reaches for the door handle and gives us his warm smile. “Take care of yourselves, girls.”
“Thanks,” we say, choking back tears. Okay, not really, but almost.
The closing of the door echoes throughout the apartment. I sigh. “Mom just stood up the nicest man in the world.”
Miri shakes her head in disgust. “I know! What are we going to do with her? Do you think she’s having a midlife crisis?”
“Yes.”
“She should just zap herself up a Corvette and get it over with.”
When she finally calls us back at seven-thirty, I’m furious. “Where are you?” I can barely hear her, she’s surrounded by so much noise.
“Everything all right, honey?” she yells.
“You missed your date!” I yell back.
“What? I can’t hear you! I’m on my date!”
“No, you missed it! With Lex!”
“I can’t hear you, hon. Reception is terrible. I’ll try not to be home too late. I left money for takeout! Make sure you do your homework!”
This. Is. Absurd. Miri and I spend the rest of the night pacing. And complaining about our mother. And pacing some more. We take a break for Saturday Night Live but continue pacing during the commercials.
We fall asleep on the couch. When the clock says two a.m., I’m awakened by the clink of a key in the door. Then the lights zap on. Yes, zap. Miri is still unconscious, but I’m quickly on my feet, ready to attack.
“What is wrong with you?” I growl, hands on my hips. Sniff. Sniff, sniff. And Mom reeks of smoke. Like she was bathing in cigarettes. “You’re smoking again.”
Her face falls. “Bars,” she mumbles. “People smoke in them.”
Gasp. She just lied right to my face. There’s no smoking in bars in the city! “Mother, you’re smoking again. You’re using magic like crazy. You’re going on more dates than you can handle. You’re home too late. You stood up Lex.”
She grimaces.
“Are you
having a midlife crisis?”
Her face cements into an unreadable expression. She slowly removes her shoes and leaves them in a mess on the floor. She walks past me and into the kitchen. “I forgot about Lex.”
I follow her. “I know. It was rude.”
She waves me away and pours a glass of water. “You didn’t even want me going out with him!”
“I was wrong. I admit it. He’s very nice and you’ve probably ruined your chances with him. I hope you’re happy.”
She shrugs. “There are lots of fish in the sea. But frankly, Rachel, I don’t appreciate being told what to do by a fourteen-year-old.”
“Well, someone has to tell you. You’re acting crazy.” I make a cuckoo motion with my finger. “Why do you have to be so extreme? You went from no magic, no dating, and no smoking to drowning in magic, dating, and smoking. Don’t you know how to ease yourself in? First a pinky toe, then a foot, then a leg—”
She slams the glass onto the table, sending water flying everywhere. As if I haven’t had enough waterworks for one night. “Are we not clear? I’m the mother. You’re the daughter. I tell you what to do.”
I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. “Then act like my mother,” I snap. I run into my room, slamming the door behind me. She’d better come apologize. She always comes to talk to me when I slam the door. Slamming the door = I need to talk.
Five minutes pass. What is she doing? I peek into the hallway. The nerve of her! She’s taking a shower. I hope the water is still cold.
13
At Least My Middle Name Isn’t Lucretia
My mom and I ignore each other on Sunday. Not that she’s around to be ignored. She has a lunch date with Nick, pops home in the afternoon, takes a nap, and decides to make us a cheese soufflé for dinner (out of remorse, I bet) but then forgets it’s in the oven while she showers and lets it burn to a crisp. She zaps up a new one for us, along with a salad and apple cider, and then goes out with Tony for dinner. I refuse to eat her guilt dish out of principle, and make macaroni and cheese instead. The microwave kind. I accidentally add too much milk and it ends up being macaro-mush.
Miri spends most of the day trying and failing to find a better rain spell. I spend most of the day on the phone with Tammy.
Her: “Bosh invited me to prom!”
Despite my sympathy for poor Aaron, I shriek with joy, “We can double!”
Tammy: “I can’t go to prom with someone while I have a boyfriend! And anyway, there might not even be a prom.”
“There will be,” I say. “I’ll worry about that. You worry about dumping poor Aaron already.”
Meanwhile, I stare at the potted TV, which still looks like a bowl of dirt and nothing like a television. “Shouldn’t it be growing?” I ask for the sixteenth time.
Miri pokes it with a pencil. “It takes time.”
“But it hasn’t done any developing.” And I know. I’ve been lying on my carpet watching for the last eight hours.
“Give it till tomorrow.”
“It had better work. I have no backup plan.”
She opens the window to let in some fresh air. “You have to think positively! If you don’t believe in it, it won’t work. Like the tooth fairy.”
“You sound like Mom.”
“Well, she was right, wasn’t she? As soon as I said that I didn’t believe in the fairy, that I knew it was Mom, she stopped putting money under my pillow. And where did that leave me?”
“Five dollars poorer?”
“Exactly. So don’t worry. Until tomorrow, anyway. Then you can freak out. Has my magic ever let you down?”
Uh, yeah. The phone rings, distracting me.
“Hi, dear!”
“Hi, Dad,” I say, and stretch out on my bed. “How are you?”
“Long week. You know. Getting back to the office after so much glorious time off.” He yawns in my ear.
“Tired?”
“A little.”
We chitchat for a few seconds and then he passes the phone to Jennifer. “What’s up?” I say.
“It’s a madhouse around here,” she says. “You wouldn’t believe what my daughter is doing. She refuses to sleep in her own bed. Absolutely refuses. How are we supposed to conceive if she won’t leave us alone?”
Ew. I’m not sure why she thinks I’m the appropriate person to discuss this with. Gasp—does she think we’re friends? Buddies? Does she think I’m someone who wants to hear about her marital relationship with my dad? That is so gross. I can’t stand it. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the repulsive images—which makes it worse. “I don’t know what to say.” Except, please stop talking.
“I am so depressed! I don’t have time to waste. I’m already thirty-six. And Priscilla is acting like a child.”
“She’s only five.”
“Almost six. It’s her birthday next weekend, remember? She’s too old for this! I’m too old for this!”
“I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.”
A loud sigh. “I know. You’re right, Rachel. You know exactly what I’m thinking.”
What is going on here? Why am I her new best friend? She’s my stepmom! She should be acting her role—mean and bossy. And my mother should be acting like a mother. Why can’t everyone behave properly?
“It’s just that I spent so much time worrying about the wedding that now I’m behind on all my other projects. Like finding a summer rental in the Hamptons. And my car has been giving me trouble—”
Beep!
Thank goodness, it’s my call waiting. “One sec,” I say, and click off. “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous,” says Will’s deep, manly voice.
Ah. See? No role confusion on his end. Me = girlfriend. “Hi! How was the rest of your weekend?”
“Cool. You? What did you do last night?” he asks.
“Oh, I wasn’t feeling so hot,” I say. I can’t exactly tell him I stayed home doing nothing on a Saturday night, can I?
“Are you better?”
A concerned boyfriend. Cuteness. “A-okay. What’s up?”
“Penthouse Fifty needed a deposit. So I gave them two thousand dollars.”
Don’t panic. “Where did you get the money? From ticket sales?”
“No, I had to use the advance ticket sales to give the caterer a deposit. I just took it out of my savings.”
My stomach free-falls. “Are you kidding me? The money you’ve been saving for college?” Doesn’t he know the first rule of business: never use your own money?
“No worries. You said you’re bringing in a big-ticket item, right? Any hints as to what it is?”
He’s basing his future on my promises? What if I can’t deliver? “It’s, um, a secret. Until tomorrow.” I forgot about Jennifer! “Will you hold on? I’m just getting off the other line.” Click. “Jennifer?”
“—you know? And my tan is already fading. And all the good rentals are gone.”
I don’t think she realized I was gone. “That’s awful, Jennifer. Really. But I have to go. Will and I have to work on the prom auction. We have to raise fourteen thousand dollars.”
“I love auctions! Are you selling any good stuff?”
Gulp. “Hopefully.”
“Can I come?”
“Sure, parents are invited.” Did I just use the word parent in association with her? “Can I tell you more about it next weekend?”
“Sure, sorry. Have fun with Will. Are you going to invite him to the Hamptons for a week?”
“I thought you didn’t have a house yet.”
“I’ll find one. So will you?”
My finger is eagerly hovering over the Flash button. “No, he’s going to camp for the summer.”
“He is? What camp?”
“Wood Lake,” I say.
“Really? Hey, that’s an idea.”
“Jennifer, I have to go. Emergency school stuff, remember?” I say good-bye and switch back. “So where were we?” Eight days till the auction, and eleven days unti
l prom, that’s where. And I still don’t have a TV or a dress.
By Monday morning, the TV has yet to grow even an antenna. I walk to school with a heavy heart. At lunch, I buy a muffin in the caf and head straight to the lounge. Will and Kat are already there, sitting on the floor, cutting out paddles for the auction.
I plop down beside Will and he kisses me on the forehead. “So are you going to tell me the big secret? What are you bringing in?” He looks at me with those puppy dog please-feed-me eyes.
“Wide-screen TVs,” I blurt out. Oops. Think positively, don’t speak positively. “I’m working on it,” I add quickly.
The puppy dogs light up. “They go for like four grand! That would be so cool. Where are you getting them?”
“Family connections,” I say as nonchalantly as possible. “I’m still working out some of the details.”
Kat nods. “Awesome. When do you think you can bring them in?”
“I . . .” That’s an excellent question. Even more excellent, how am I going to bring them in? Am I planning to carry them on my back? No worries. Miri must know a moving spell. Maybe she’ll put them on her back and do the transport spell. Not.
Will smiles at me. “We should send out an e-mail with a list of the stuff that’s being auctioned off, so students know to bring lots of green. Or their parents’ credit cards.”
“I’m thirsty,” Kat says, putting down her scissors. “Anyone want a drink?”
“No, thanks,” Will and I both say.
“See you in five.” Kat removes her wallet from her backpack and closes the door behind her.
Will immediately wraps his arms around my waist. “Finally, we’re alone.”
My heartbeat speeds up like I just ran to class. He gives me one of those perfect kisses. Soft, sweet, warm. How lucky am I?
Frogs & French Kisses Page 16
