Elizabeth's mouth tightened. “I guess.”
Hope sat up on her bed and motioned for Elizabeth to join her.
“Sorry I didn't get a chance to spend any time with Uncle Rob,” Hope said. “I've been kind of…a mess today.” She flipped a lock of hair dramatically. “And on my spa day!”
Elizabeth giggled, but then her brow knitted with concern. “I'm sorry your mom didn't call today.”
Hope waved a hand absently through the air. “Who cares.”
“You do,” Elizabeth responded. “And I do, too.”
Hope was silent for a moment, and Elizabeth rushed to fill the void. “Sometimes I wish my parents would just go away,” she said.
“Really?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Everything's just so … complicated, ya know?”
Hope brightened. “Complicated families. That's what bonds the Right-Under Club, remember?”
Elizabeth grinned. “Right.”
Hope hugged her cousin. “Who knew there was an upside to complicated families?”
Hope's Right-Under Journal
Saturday, June 19
Happy birthday to me. I guess I'll sing that stupid song to myself since my mom blew me off. Again. I wonder if she even remembers it's my birthday. I wish I could forget her the way she's forgotten me. But how can I forget her when I see her face every time I look in the mirror? I know people are always telling kids, “You look just like your mom,” even when they really don't. But there's no denying it: Mom and I look just alike. I wish I could have gotten a miracle makeover today. As in a whole new face and body. But I'm stuck with this one. I'm stuck being hopeless.
Tricia's Right-Under Journal
Sunday, June 20
Poor Hope. She, Elizabeth and Mei came over this afternoon, and while Troy was cooking burgers for us on the grill, she spilled the gory details about her spa day. Yikes! I thought the Right-Under advice was good, but it kinda blew up in her face. Sorry, Hope! I feel so sorry for her. A stepmother: YUCK! (And a prissy one at that! LOL) Thank heaven I don't have that problem. My dad would never remarry. He's way too cool for that kind of thing. He likes to stay light on his feet and keep his options open. But mostly, he's happiest when it's just the two of us. We're totally in sync, like we share the same brain. If it wasn't for my uptight mom, we'd be together all the time … or at least more often than one or two afternoons a month. Why is she so freaked out by how close we are? Shouldn't that make her happy? Is she worried about precious Troy feeling left out? Well, I feel left out all the time. In my own house! I wouldn't mind someone else catching a clue about what that's like. Dad's the only one who understands. But what can he do? My mom calls all the shots. He says she always has. Don't get me wrong … I love my mom. But I love my dad, too. What's so wrong with that?
11
“This third official meeting of the Right-Under Club will now commence.”
Once again, Leighton had been late, but now everyone was accounted for as pink T-shirts filled the tree house.
“First, a belated happy birthday to Hope from anyone who hasn't seen her since the last meeting,” Tricia said. Leighton yawned, tapping her fingertips rhythmically against her lips.
“And now on to old business,” Tricia continued. She glanced at Mei. “We all know how fantastic Mei's mural turned out to be. Mei, how have things been going with your stepdad since then?”
“Okay,” Mei said, folding her hands in her lap. “He's been bragging to everybody about my mural, which is nice. But it makes me a little nervous. Once school starts and people see it for themselves, they might think, This is what the principal's been raving about?”
“Trust us: nobody will think that,” Tricia said.
Mei smiled. “Thanks. My mom likes it. She said I've inspired her to start painting again, as soon as the baby is born. Speaking of the baby, Mom's been having these contractions called Braxton Hicks, so the doctor thinks she might go into labor early.”
“You'll need plenty of Right-Under advice once the baby is born,” Tricia teased. “In fact, I'll give you some advance advice about changing diapers: let the adults do it.”
The girls laughed, and Tricia turned her gaze to Hope.
“How about your spa day, Hope? How did it go?”
Hope rested her chin on her hands. “It was awful.”
Leighton glanced from one Right-Under to another. They were all giving each other knowing looks. Hope's spa day was obviously old news to everyone but Leighton. She felt a pang. It made sense that Elizabeth already knew what was going on, since she was staying with Hope. And Mei was Hope's best friend. But Tricia? Hope had known Tricia only a few weeks. Leighton had known Hope forever. Yet Tricia knew and Leighton didn't. Leighton was out of the loop. So what else was new?
“What happened?” Leighton asked, tossing brown hair from her shoulder to seem as uninterested as possible.
“Ummmm …” Hope still didn't trust Leighton with sensitive information, and the other girls already knew about it. Still, Leighton was a Right-Under, and this was the point of the meetings….
“It started out okay,” Hope said tentatively. “I wasn't in the best mood, but I was going along with the program. Manicure, pedicure, facial, massage… But then Jacie said a couple of things that really ticked me off.”
“What did she say?” Leighton asked, now clear of any doubt that she was the only one who didn't already know.
Hope pushed her curls back from her face. “Just her typical remarks. You know … telling the makeup lady, ‘We should take you home with us so you can pretty her up every day.’” The girls laughed at Hope's singsong imitation. “I felt like such a loser. And worse, I felt like that was the point.”
“Why?” Leighton asked. “What is so bad about prettying yourself up? What's wrong with a little self-improvement?”
Again, she watched the other girls exchange glances.
“Hope just wants to be herself,” Tricia said softly.
“You can be yourself and still brush your hair!” Leighton said.
Hope stared down at her hands.
“We're here to be supportive, remember?” Tricia said to Leighton.
“Looking great doesn't come as easily to everyone as it does to you,” Hope said bitterly.
“But everyone can try.” Leighton sniffed.
“Hope is prettier than you'll ever be!” Mei blurted out, surprising even herself with her anger. “And she's also pretty on the inside, where it counts. Maybe that can be your next selfimprovement project.”
Mei glared at Leighton, who stared back with narrowed eyes. But Leighton's heart sank. Why was everyone so mad at her? Why didn't the Coolest Girl in School ever really fit in?
Tricia cleared her throat loudly. “Okay, okay,” she said. “We don't have to agree about everything, but the Right-Under Code says we have to support each other. And besides, Hope wasn't finished with her story yet. Hope?”
Hope shot a scathing look at Leighton, then stared back at her hands. “I got really mad at Jacie,” she said. “I screamed at her in the car on the way home. But then we got back to the house, and as usual, she had, like, a gazillion presents for me, and I know she meant well. And maybe now she has a better idea of how small she can make me feel.”
Hope skipped the part about her mother blowing off her birthday. That, even Mei didn't know.
“Do you think Jacie will stop trying to gussy you up?” Tricia asked.
Hope smiled. “Probably not. I still get ‘the look’ when she doesn't like my outfit, and new beauty products have a way of suddenly appearing on my dresser. I think she's bought every hair defrizzer on the market. And just for the record: none of them work.”
The girls laughed.
“But…,” Hope continued, “her heart's in the right place.”
“I like Aunt Jacie,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, anxious not to distance herself from the others the way Leighton always managed to do but still compelled to defend her aunt. “She's really
nice. I'm sad she makes you feel bad about yourself, but I know she doesn't mean to.”
Tricia nodded. “Everybody I know thinks Troy is the greatest guy in the world. And he is nice. But when some random adult that your mom or dad happened to marry is suddenly judging you, or telling you what to do, or telling you how to be, or even just being in your space…it can be hard.”
The girls nodded. If they had nothing else in common, they all understood that.
Tricia held the Problem Stick aloft. “I think we're ready to move on to the next problem.”
Hope locked eyes with Elizabeth and gave her a prodding look. Elizabeth hesitated, but Tricia was already handing her the stick. “Elizabeth? Do you need the Problem Stick this week?”
Elizabeth blushed but took the stick and stood up. “It's not that big a problem,” she began, but Hope's expression was urging her on. “And there's probably not any way for you to help me….”
“Elizabeth!” Hope scolded.
“Okay, okay. I'm supposed to go to my grandparents’ farm tomorrow and stay for ten days.”
Leighton gave an exaggerated yawn.
“I totally love my grandparents,” Elizabeth said with emphasis, “but they treat me like I'm a baby, especially since my parents broke up last year. They rent little kiddy videos for me, and my grandpa thinks I'm still into taking tractor rides and jumping into haystacks….”
“Hey, that sounds fun,” Tricia said.
“Yeah?” Elizabeth said, her face brightening.
“Totally. I'd love that no matter how old I was.”
Elizabeth smiled appreciatively. Tricia always seemed to make people feel better. “It is pretty fun. But I'm having such a good time at Hope's house…so much fun with you guys.” She blushed, knowing she was more like a little-kid interloper than an authentic member of the club, yet still…
“We've having fun with you, too,” Tricia said. “And it's just ten days. The Right-Unders will still be here when you get back. You are coming back to Hope's house after your visit, right?”
“Sure she is,” Hope said protectively. “She's staying until school starts.” She put an arm around Elizabeth and squeezed her closer. Elizabeth suddenly felt like she might cry, but she willed herself not to. The last thing she wanted to do was act babyish.
“But in the meantime,” Tricia said, “she has a problem. She needs suggestions for how to have a good time at her grandparents’ house. Right-Unders, you know what to do.”
“I don't,” Leighton said. “I have no idea how to give somebody suggestions for making a trip to a farm bearable.”
“Well, Old MacDonald,” Hope said, “maybe your advice can be for Elizabeth to get adopted into a new family.”
Leighton sneered.
“Everybody just think hard and do your best to help Elizabeth think of some ways to have fun with her grandparents,” Tricia said. “Your time starts”—she glanced at her watch—“now.”
Elizabeth settled more comfortably on the throw rug, relieved that all she had to do this time was sit and wait. She wondered if any spot on earth was cozier than this tree house. She wished she could live in it. She loved her new friends, even Leighton, whom she found more amusing than irritating. Elizabeth was only eleven, but she already knew that every group of girls seemed to have its Leighton, and the Leightons of the world were never quite as pulled together as they wanted other people to believe. Elizabeth wondered what Leighton was really like, under her perfect olive skin and sleek dark hair. She even felt a little sorry for her, though she wasn't sure why.
“Time's up,” Tricia said, and the girls put down their pencils. Tricia passed the Solutions Bowl, and once again they folded their papers twice and put them in the bowl.
“My turn this time,” Hope said cheerfully, but frowned slightly as Tricia resisted letting go of the bowl.
“Give it up, Tricia,” Leighton snarled. Tricia reddened and handed Hope the bowl.
“Here we go,” Hope said, unfolding and reading one piece of paper after another:
“SOLUTION: Do your grandparents live close to a mall? Tell them nothing would make you happier than daily shopping sprees.
“SOLUTION: Think of your visit like a camp. Learn new things to do on the farm. You'll stay busy and the time will fly by.
“SOLUTION: Bring all your own CDs and DVDs, then hole up in your room for some quality Elizabeth time.
“SOLUTION: Tell your grandparents things about your life that make them realize you're not a baby anymore. Ask your grandma to take you shopping for a bra!”
Elizabeth giggled at the last suggestion. Her grandparents might have been old, but they weren't blind. No way could she convince anybody she was ready for a bra. Still, she liked all the ideas … and she loved that the girls cared enough to try to help her.
“These are all really good suggestions,” she said.
“I think the best thing you can do is combine these ideas,” Tricia said decisively, still feeling a little prickly about losing the bowl. “Have some alone time, then hang out with your grandpa on the farm, then ask your grandma to take you shopping…. This might end up being really fun.”
Elizabeth nodded. “My last night in town will be the Fourth of July, and Grandpa said they were taking me to a fireworks show,” she said hopefully. “Maybe I'm worried for nothing.”
Tricia took the Problem Stick back from her. “Go forth with the wisdom of the Right-Unders,” she intoned dramatically. “You'll miss our meeting next Thursday, but your report on your visit will be first on our agenda the meeting after that.”
“I'll be ready,” Elizabeth said, her cheeks glowing. “Thanks, guys.”
Elizabeth's Right-Under Journal
Thursday, June 24
Hi, R.U. Journal. I may not have time to write for the next few days, so I thought I better check in. Today was my turn with the Problem Stick. So weird having my new friends focused on my little problem! R.U. ROCKS!!! They gave me really good advice, too. I can't wait to see how it turns out. But I'll miss them when I'm at my grandparents’ house. Grandpa called after dinner to make sure I was all packed up. He and Grandma can't wait to see me. Grandma's got a cold, and Grandpa said her medicine is making her a little loopy (HIS WORD!) but they're still really excited about my visit. Grandparents. They live for this stuff. I love them, but I hope the next ten days fly by. I'LL MISS YOU, RIGHTUNDERS!!!
12
“There's my girl!”
As Elizabeth stepped out of her uncle's car, her grandpa swept her into his broad, strong arms. Buck, his dog, yapped and jumped excitedly at his feet. Elizabeth extended a hand and let the dog lick it.
Hope, who had come along for the ride, got out of the car with her father.
“Hello, Mr. Carson,” Hope's dad said. The two men shook hands.
“Jack, good to see ya,” Elizabeth's grandpa said. “I really appreciate your driving Elizabeth over. And keeping her this summer … that's a real big help. I know my daughter appreciates it. It's giving her a chance to sort things out with your brother.”
“We enjoy having Elizabeth with us,” Hope's dad said.
“And who might this be?” Elizabeth's grandpa said to Hope.
“I'm Hope,” she said, blushing.
“Not a chance! Elizabeth's cousin, Hope, is a scrawny little gal. You're a beautiful young woman!”
Hope smiled and kissed his stubbly cheek.
“If you'd like to stay with Elizabeth during her visit,” he told Hope, “we've got plenty of room.”
Elizabeth looked excited, but Hope quickly shook her head. “I've got to get back home,” she said. “Busy, busy, busy.” She could have kicked herself. How lame did that sound?
Jack pulled Elizabeth's suitcase out of the trunk of his car. “Shall I take this inside for you?” he asked, but Elizabeth's grandpa was already taking it.
“No, no. I've got it,” he said. “Jean would love to have you in for a glass of iced tea, but she's getting over a bad cold.”
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br /> “No problem,” Jack said. “I told the boss I'd be in the office by noon. But please give her our best. We need to head on back.”
“Well then, drive safely,” Mr. Carson said.
Hope hugged Elizabeth tightly. “Just ten days,” she whispered into her ear. “Remember the Right-Unders’ advice. And have a great time.”
“I'll try,” Elizabeth whispered back.
Jack and Hope got in the car and drove away, leaving a dust trail in their wake. The farmhouse was large, comfortable and modern, but the grounds—including the dirt driveway—spelled “country” loud and clear. Elizabeth had loved everything about the farm until recently. Now she found it vaguely embarrassing. She shook the thought from her head, ashamed of herself, and followed her grandpa into the house.
“Grandma?” she called as they stepped through the front door.
“Is that my girl?”
Elizabeth's grandmother, a thin woman with meticulously groomed gray hair, rushed into the foyer. “Oh…oh…,” she said, then hugged her granddaughter. She smelled of lilacs.
“Hi, Grandma.” “Yes… yes!”
Her grandpa cleared his throat. He suddenly looked old and tired. “Let's get you situated, young lady,” he said, and Elizabeth followed him to the bedroom she used during visits. It was her mom's old room.
“Grandma, are we having meat loaf tonight?” Elizabeth called to her grandmother. Meat loaf on the first night of a visit was a tradition.
“Meat loaf…,” her grandmother mumbled.
“Your grandma's not feeling so well,” her grandfather said haltingly. “How about we go out for pizza tonight?”
“What's wrong with Grandma?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.
“Why, not a thing, unless your grandpa's going to make a federal case about my little cold,” her grandma said, walking into the room in her breezy, graceful way. Elizabeth felt a flood of relief.
“Pizza sounds great,” she said.
“What about my meat loaf?” her grandma asked, her eyes darting from one to the other.
“We'll have your meat loaf later in the week, honey,” her grandpa told her gently. “Elizabeth, I could sure use some help on the tractor today.”
The Right-Under Club Page 7
