by Tish Cohen
“I should warn you. Spinach makes Olivia throw up. Or at least spit up. Something about it being too slippery and green, she says.”
“Duly noted.” Rachel tore open a package of wieners. “Where does she stand on veggie dogs?”
“Fairly safe bet. But only if the bun doesn’t split into two, putting the wiener in danger of dropping onto the plate. Should this occur when you have no more buns to offer her, pull out five toothpicks and turn it into a wiener dog. She’ll get a kick out of the tail and the legs will hold the bun in place.”
Rachel dumped the wieners into a pot of boiling water. After turning down the heat, she turned to look at Len and said quietly, “I’m scared I’ll never be what she needs.”
He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You have wonderful instincts with her. Just trust them.”
The phone rang. Len turned to pick it up. “Hello?”
Through the kitchen window, Rachel spotted Janie dragging the garbage cans back toward the house with her grandmother in tow. Rachel hated to do it, but she had to ground the girl for sneaking out. It didn’t matter that she may have been confused or feeling peer pressure. A child who snuck out needed to feel the consequence.
“She’s busy right now,” Len said into the phone. After a series of “mm-hm” and “I’ll tell her,” he scribbled something on the back of an envelope and hung up.
“What was that about?”
“That was a girl from Janie’s new French class. Sidney. She’s having a few kids over to study after dinner. Wants Janie to come. You better make that grounding decision quickly.”
“A new friend who studies? I like the sound of that.” Rachel reached into the crisper for a container of green grapes and set it in the sink, turning on the tap and running the fruit under water. “I have an idea. Why don’t you make the grounding decision? You’re going to be a big part of her life for the next…” She stopped herself and looked down for a moment. “Do you want to ground her?”
“From studying?” asked Len. “Never.”
Len watched as she sliced each grape in half and arranged them on one end of the fruit platter. “I don’t suppose one can stop them from making unwise decisions. Especially when kids don’t seem interested in staying within the barricades we create to keep them safe,” Len said. Rachel reached past him for the bag of carrots, which she dumped into a bowl and ran under water. He added, “Kids tend to leap right over the chains.”
“Mm-hm.”
He watched her pick up a knife and judiciously quarter each carrot lengthwise. At the same time, Dustin walked over, leaned on the counter, and stuffed a carrot stick into his mouth. His cast clunked hard against the wooden chopping block. Olivia trotted up behind him and surveyed the activity.
“It’s impossible to plan for every catastrophe no matter how many precautions you take,” Len said. “Life doesn’t make things that easy. Look at me, I was worried about eating mussels. Real life is what happens when you’re busy…” He paused. His goddamned words had disappeared again.
“Cutting the carrots,” said Olivia.
Rachel dropped the knife and looked up, a wave of realization washing over her face.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Janie called down the edge of the bluff. “The guests will be here any minute.”
Rachel climbed back up to the top with the help of a thick rope she’d tied to a chestnut tree at the edge. “Just go grab a handful of balloons, we’ll tie them to the tree so people can find the path.”
“Grandma’s going to climb down here in her new loafers?”
“Grandma’s driving the food over to the stairs with Len. They’ll meet us at the bottom.”
“She’s driving me crazy with her man propaganda…”
Rachel tried not to smile. “Don’t forget to stick a note to the front door saying we’re at the river.”
“What about me and Dusty? And Olivia? Are you driving us down the road to the stairs? Because it’ll take us ages to walk all the way back here and I’m already tired from setting up and dragging the garbage cans from the road. And anyway, I don’t want Olivia to miss her own party…”
Rachel scrambled to the top, wiped off her pants, and smiled. “Janie, honey, take a breath.” She placed an arm around Janie’s shoulder. “You’re climbing down the bluff.”
Janie widened her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“We have our beach back?”
“You have your beach back.”
“Dustin and Olivia too?”
Rachel considered this. “Dustin can climb down on his own, but we’ll make sure we’re there to help Olivia. Those new boots of hers are a bit clunky.”
Janie raced to the edge and started to pick her way down.
“Janie!”
“You said I could…”
“You can, sweetie. But you waited all summer to sunbathe by the river. You can’t do that without your bathing suit.”
Janie squinted, looking around at the fallen leaves. “But it’s September. Aren’t you worried about us getting sick?”
“Bring a cover-up.”
Janie raced back to the house.
A gray mist had settled over the rocky beach, bringing with it a chilliness that seemed to Rachel to dampen even her insides. Shivering in maillot and rubber boots, she zipped her soggy red ski jacket to the chin and drank in the air. It had been at least a year since she’d been at the water’s edge and had forgotten how peaceful it was to just sit, in the here, in the now, and listen to the river flow. Len stretched out beside her on the plaid blanket, dressed in bathing trunks and David’s forgotten hunting jacket, with a wool cap warming his head, and a scarf wound around his neck. He nudged Rachel’s thigh and pointed to where Dustin stood in the river, legs red from the aching cold, showing his grandmother how to skip stones with his bad arm.
The party had been surprisingly portable. Balloons strung from bushes flapped in the wind; platters of party sandwiches and cold lasagna rested atop driftwood and rocks. Napkins and paper plates sat anchored by stones, awaiting their call to duty.
Janie held Olivia’s hand, helping her navigate the lower half of the ridge. Olivia had been distracted halfway down by a dead squirrel and had stopped to explain, at great length, with Birthday Wishes Barbie by her side, that squirrels were just as much a part of the rodent family as gerbils or mice or even the renowned rattus rattus. Janie had parked herself on the path and listened with unusual patience. Now, trotting down onto the beach, they looked like sisters with their winter jackets, bare legs, and matching army boots.
“Whoa!” Rachel heard Olivia say as she looked around at the stones at her feet. “Look at all the pebbles here! I can actually use these for my bully bottle…”
Rachel watched as the child leaned over and scooped up a handful, kneeling down on the blanket. Her head appeared too weighty for her slender neck as the humid river mist terrorized her new bob. “Look at all of these!”
Before Len could answer, Janie leaned over Olivia, dark hair licking her face like blackened fire. She took the stones out of Olivia’s hands and hurled them toward the river. “You don’t need those anymore. They can say what they want to me, but no one bullies Janie Berman’s sister.”
Olivia’s fingers tapped her chest, her face split into a smile.
Rachel looked over at Len for his reaction—that Olivia had her very own, if anarchistic, one-woman army was news that would surely assuage his fears for her future, at least at school. But his head had dropped onto his chest, his stubbly chin lost in his scarf. He snored softly.
Rachel tugged a second blanket over his legs and tucked it close to his body.
As Piper and Dustin joined them on the blanket, arguing over who got the most skips, Rachel pulled out a juice box and handed it to Olivia, who dropped her Barbie and snatched it up, sucking until the box caved in and crumpled. Once she’d sucked it dry, the child gulped in a breath and wiped her dripping mouth. She sat st
ill for a moment, blinking at all the sets of feet stretched out on the blanket, looking for all the world like she might burst with joy.
Piper turned to Rachel. “I suppose this will exacerbate the erosion.”
“I guess some things are beyond even my control,” said Rachel.
“Hey,” Olivia said, looking up the bluff. “There’s somebody coming!” She got up on her knees and pointed. “See Rachel? There’s people climbing down the mountain! There’s Grandma and Grandpa. And there’s Tabitha and her mother. And policemen…real policemen!” She pointed down the beach. “And those girls over there…are those girls from school?”
Rachel laughed. “Yes. And your whole class from school is coming. You’re a celebrity, Olivia. The whole town’s talking about you. You’re a real hero.”
“But why are they all coming here?”
“You saved Tabitha,” said Dustin. “You’re a hero.”
Olivia twisted up her face. “But Tabitha doesn’t get bullied.”
Piper said, “A hero does more than stop bullies. A hero does something very brave and saves someone else from harm.”
“What’s harm?”
“Danger,” Rachel said.
“Hey, there’s Theodore! And Alex! And Brenda!”
Rachel laughed again. “Yes. And they’re all coming to see you, Olivia.”
Olivia’s eyes tripled in size as she came to a realization and began to bounce in place. “You mean it’s my birthday? They’re coming to my birthday party?” She shook her hands wildly. “All these people are coming to my birthday party? Is today my birthday?”
Rachel glanced at Len, unsure of what to say. The child’s birthday wasn’t for another few months. But in spite of all the commotion, he hadn’t stirred.
This hero business meant nothing to Olivia. Throwing her a party for being a hero was having no more impact than ironing her T-shirts or folding down her bedsheets. She wasn’t able to make the connection between Tabitha losing her mouth and herself being brave.
“Is today my birthday?”
All the honesty in the world wasn’t going to change that.
“Is it really my birthday?”
In the soft fog, Rachel could see that Olivia’s gray eyes weren’t gray at all. They were a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors, shards of blue with flecks of green, copper, even violet.
Olivia blinked. “Is that why they’re here?”
To hell with honesty.
Rachel pulled the child onto her lap. “Yes, sweetheart,” she said, her cheek touching Olivia’s. “Today is your birthday. And everyone is coming to your party.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Huge thanks to Connected Parenting’s Jennifer Kolari, R.S.W., M.S.W., for sharing her wisdom, parenting model, and great love for children with nonverbal learning disorders. Thanks to Gillian and Pat, Michael Palmer, M.D., Alyson Pancer, Dr. Gary Shapero, John Lindsay, Michael Borum, Josh Getzler, Zeke Steiner, Genevieve Gagne-Hawes, Ricki Miller, Patry Francis, Bridgette Mongeon. At HarperCollins, Jeanette Perez, Alison Callahan, Carrie Kania, and Christopher O’Connell. At HarperCollinsCanada, Iris Tupholme, David Kent, Kate Cassaday, Rob Firing, Deanna McFadden, Miranda Snyder, Jennifer Lambert, and Lindsey Love. My film agent, Kassie Evashevski, at UTA, and all the film folks in Los Angeles for their continued support. My wonderful literary agent, Daniel Lazar, at Writers House and his assistant, Josh Getzler, as well as Maja Nikolic for foreign efforts. Finally, Steve, Max, and Lucas, because “there’s also this.”
PRAISE FOR
Tish Cohen and Inside Out Girl
“Like its most endearing character, Olivia Bean, Inside Out Girl is brimming with heart, spirit, and, most of all, hope. Tish Cohen has written a life-affirming novel about the families we choose, those that are chosen for us, and the possibility of second chances. You’ll find yourself cheering for Olivia Bean from the first page to the last.”
—Michelle Richmond, New York Times bestselling author of The Year of Fog
“A spirited, fast-paced novel, Inside Out Girl is rich in character and heart.”
—Marti Leimbach, author of Daniel Isn’t Talking
“Inside Out Girl had me from the very first page. Each character is richly drawn, and the story poignant and tender. Olivia is a memorable character who will stay in my heart for a long, long time.”
—Patricia Wood, author of Lottery
“Inside Out Girl is a wise, witty gem, populated with characters who will live with each of us long after the last page has been turned. Olivia Bean has taken her place alongside my favorite literary heroes.”
—Michael Palmer, New York Times bestselling author of The First Patient
“In Inside Out Girl, we meet Olivia, a ten-year-old with ‘neurological differences.’ Compassionate, sweet, and even heroic—you’ll be glad you met her.”
—John Elder Robison, New York Times bestselling author of Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger’s
ALSO BY TISH COHEN
Town House
Copyright
Inside Out Girl
© 2008 by Tish Cohen. All rights reserved.
EPub Edition © AUGUST 2009 ISBN: 978-1-554-68768-8
Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
First Canadian edition
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
HarperCollins books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use through our Special Markets Department.
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
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Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Cohen, Tish, 1963-
Inside out girl : a novel/Tish Cohen.—1st Canadian ed.
ISBN 978-1-55468-120-4
I. Title.
PS8605.O3787I58 2008 C813’.6 C2008-901821-4
WEB 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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