by Coco Simon
“Okay, but just one suggestion,” I said. “How about something like ‘You Talk, We Listen’?”
“Hey,” said Hannah. “That’s good!”
“I love it!” said Olivia.
“Well, everyone appreciates it when someone listens, right? That’s why Principal Clarke said they created the class reps. So everyone gets a chance to be heard.”
“It’s true,” said Hannah. “That’s really why I’m so interested in student council.”
“It is?” said Olivia. “I thought it was that you just wanted to be in charge and make decisions.”
“What?” said Hannah. “No, Isabella and I really share the same idea that we should be representing our class and helping to influence things that can make school a better experience for everyone.”
Olivia looked like she was stewing for a second. “Well, sure…,” she said. “I knew Isabella felt that way.…”
Hannah gave her a strange look. “Sometimes you just have to let people know you’re open to hearing them, and they’ll tell you how they feel.”
Olivia didn’t say anything, and Sophia and I raised our eyebrows at each other.
We were selling jelly donuts and apple cider. “Come get your true red spirit!” we called as people lined up. The shift went by fast, and after we worked, we were able to walk around.
I waved to Principal Clarke, who was my new buddy, and went over to the town library’s booth, where I took one of Ms. Castro’s recommended reading lists. Some of the new titles looked so good, and I made a promise to myself to stop at the library soon.
At dusk we all made our way to the lake and spread out blankets. Sophia and Riley and I squeezed onto one, and Olivia and Isabella plunked onto another right next to us. Hannah and Elizabeth sat down on the other side, and Michelle wheeled herself next to me in her chair. I saw Lindsay sitting a few rows over, with Casey.
Lindsay looked up and rushed over to me, giving me a hug. “Are you mad that I’m not sitting with you?” she asked.
“Why would I be mad?” I said.
“Well, we’re family,” she said.
“True,” I said, “but I’m not sitting with Molly or Jenna, and they’re family.”
“Yeah,” said Lindsay. “I’m just always worried people will get upset. I mean, everyone has been so nice to me since Mom died, and sometimes I just want to be treated normally, not like I’m special or anything.”
“We don’t treat you specially,” I lied.
“Well, usually you don’t,” said Lindsay. “And I appreciate that. I know you probably didn’t want me around during your Family Fall Fest with your mom and sisters. I probably wouldn’t have wanted me there either. But the thing is, I was glad that you thought it was okay to just be you and not treat me like I might break into a million pieces. It’s hard to walk around and not want to snap my fingers at people and say, ‘Act normal!’ ”
I blinked in surprise.
“Whew,” she said. “I did not count on saying all that! But you’re a good listener, and I guess mostly I just need someone to hear me.”
I gave her a hug and said, “I am always here to listen to you. Now go back to your real BFF. I mean, if we’re keeping it real, this blanket is full.”
She laughed and said, “Meanie!” as she skipped back over to Casey.
I lay back and looked at the stars. It was a clear night, and it looked like the night sky had a million little glittering freckles. I thought about the last few weeks and how Dad and Jenna had listened to me, and about how my family always looked out for each other.
Maybe Principal Clarke was right. Maybe you didn’t have to solve anything, you just needed to listen. And if it was as easy as that, maybe I was finally starting to figure this stuff out.
Chapter Thirteen Family Is Everything
Mom and Dad and I had a talk after Fall Fest, and Mom told me that it was my turn to go to St. Louis, but they were also putting Lindsay in the rotation, and she would get the opportunity to go next.
I thought that sounded fair, and I knew that Lindsay would probably appreciate the time alone with Mom too.
“It was your mom’s idea,” Dad told me.
Mom and Dad looked at me, and I smiled. “Dad, you are a really good listener, but Mom is really good at solutions.”
They both laughed.
Since Mom was speaking at the conference on the following Friday, she decided she would pick me up right from school on Thursday, so we could drive to St. Louis that afternoon.
After her presentation we’d drive home in time for Family Friday dinner. I would finally have Mom all to myself.
I had my bag packed Thursday morning before I left for school, and I was so excited I could barely get through the day.
* * *
Before I knew it, it was time for Mom and me to hit the road. We dropped off Molly and Mom gave Dad a kiss goodbye.
“Knock those city folks dead, honey,” he said, and Mom hopped back into the car.
Soon we were on the highway and on our way.
“Ugh, this drive,” Mom groaned. “This is how we drove back and forth to school when I was in college. I always hated this drive and I still do.”
“Why?” I asked, looking around.
The trees were finally changing color, and the side of the road looked like a yellow and orange rainbow.
“It’s so boring!” said Mom. “I would count the water towers to see how far away I was. We are four water towers away from State. Unless they built some more lately…”
“I think it’s relaxing to take a long drive,” I said, settling back in my seat. “Are you nervous about your speech?”
“A little,” said Mom. “I don’t mind speaking in front of people, especially about what I know so well, but I get a little nervous that someone will tell me I’m wrong or I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“But you do know what you’re talking about! That’s why they want you to speak as an expert!”
“I don’t know everything, honey. I know what I know about our business. So I’m an expert on the Park, but outside that… I’m not so sure.”
The Park was pretty successful, I guess. It had been around for fifty years. The food was always good and the people who worked there were always welcoming. I couldn’t imagine it not being there.
“So if you didn’t work at the Park, where would you work?” I asked, curious.
“Oh,” said Mom. “Well, after college I was offered a lot of jobs in business.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like in accounting offices in St. Louis, at an investment firm in Chicago, and at a bank in New York. They were exciting job offers.”
“Chicago? New York?!” I asked. “Really?”
“Yep,” said Mom. “And I interviewed at all of them. I thought about each one.… Some were really good opportunities. It wasn’t an easy decision.”
“And?”
“And?” asked Mom. “Well, clearly I chose to come home and work for Grandpa and Nans at the Park.”
“Why?” I asked, thinking about Mom living in Chicago or St. Louis. I couldn’t even imagine her in New York.
“Well,” said Mom, “you and I are a lot alike. I thought about what those jobs could offer me, and some of them were really interesting, big career paths. But in the end, I felt like I was happiest, and could be happiest, in Bellgrove. I wanted to come home.”
“Did you regret it?” I asked, looking at her.
I never knew Mom even thought about living anywhere else. I was trying to think of her working for an investment firm, wearing a fancy suit and carrying a briefcase.
“Nope,” said Mom. “Not a bit. Sometimes I wonder about choosing a different path. I mean, that’s natural, but this is definitely where I want to be, and I’m lucky enough to be doing something I like very much with the people I love the most.”
“Well, I’m glad at least you didn’t go to California,” I said. “Or New York or Chicago, for that ma
tter.”
Mom laughed. “No, I’m not a California girl. We’ll have to see if Jenna is. Maybe she is and maybe she’ll be back. I would not be unhappy if the three of you stayed in Bellgrove, but you each have to find the place that makes you happy.”
We made it to St. Louis in time for dinner, but Mom wanted to check into the hotel first. We’ve stayed in hotels before for vacations, but we don’t stay in them too often, and I’m always excited when we open the door and I get to see our temporary home. I checked out the fluffy beds and the view, then unwrapped the little soaps they give you in the bathroom.
Mom and I settled on a restaurant that was close to the hotel, so we walked over.
It was weird to be out to dinner with just Mom. First of all, when your family owns a restaurant, you don’t eat in restaurants a lot. At home we mostly went out for tacos or sushi or pizza or Chinese food, since the Park didn’t serve any of those types of food. Louie Louie was our special restaurant, but we only went there once or twice a year.
Mom ordered me something called a Shirley Temple, which tasted like ginger ale with cherry juice mixed in it and a cherry on top. It was delicious, and I felt very fancy and city-like.
“What are you thinking?” asked Mom, as I put my chin in my hand.
“I’m trying to remember the last time it was just you and me, without Molly or Jenna or Dad or anyone else,” I said.
“When was it?” asked Mom.
“When I had strep throat over the summer and you took me to see Dr. Miller.”
“Oh!” said Mom. She sighed. “That’s not good. I wish I could do a better job of spending more time with each of you individually. You girls really need that.”
I nodded.
“Well, now you have my full attention,” she said. “So shoot. What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know!” I said.
“Well, I want to know how middle school is,” said Mom. “Like, really want to know. Not just ‘it’s good.’ I want to know how you feel about it. Give me some real feedback.”
“Oh!” I said. “Well… it’s actually okay. I mean, there have been some bumps. I’m friends with more people, I guess, which is good, and now I’m on the hockey team, which I like more than I thought I would. Plus, I’m the class representative, which I guess is pretty cool since people had to vote for me.”
“It’s very cool!” said Mom. “That’s quite the vote of confidence from your peers!”
“I guess the best way to say it is that I’m finding my way,” I said.
“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing,” said Mom. “No one knows their way directly. They don’t call it middle school for nothing! You’re in the middle of a lot of change and a lot of decisions. It takes some winding paths and some detours before you get on a road you feel is the right one. Just keep yourself open to people who want to help and are here to listen. You have to let them in.”
I thought about that. So not knowing everything was okay. Not having solutions was okay.
“It’s a lot, right?” said Mom. “But I don’t worry about you figuring out the right path. Just remember how kind you are. That’s the key to everything. That kindness will always win out, and I know you’ll stay true to yourself.”
“You mean I won’t be mean to my poor cousin?” I asked.
“Well, I hope you aren’t mean to anyone,” Mom said. “Jealousy is a real feeling. It’s completely natural and totally understandable. Rather than squish it down, though, if you talk about it, you might feel better.”
“So I’m supposed to say, ‘Hey, Lindsay, I’m kind of jealous that everyone is looking out for you’?” I asked.
“Noooo,” said Mom. “Well, maybe, if you said it a little more sensitively. And if you can’t talk about it, then sometimes it’s okay to just let that feeling be for a bit. Let’s just say life is kind of like a jelly donut. Now the jelly is a sweet and delicious surprise when you bite into it, right?”
I nodded.
“But you don’t always see it in there; it can be a surprise. And sometimes, if you bite it the wrong way, it spurts out all over you.”
“Yeah, that happened the other day at work,” I said. I shuddered a little as I remembered.
“Okay, I’m not going to ask why you were eating donuts at work,” Mom said, giving me a look. “Sometimes life throws us a little. It’s okay to be thrown and be uncertain and be a little squishy like jelly. Take your time. Listen to yourself. Eventually it will be okay. Jelly can be sticky, but it’s rarely the end of the world.”
We were talking so much that before I knew it, dessert was in front of us.
“Oh my goodness,” said Mom. “This is the second time we’re having butter cake in two weeks. This is not the healthiest eating we’ve done!”
“Oh, Mom,” I said, with a mouthful of cake. “We sell donuts every day!”
“You got me on that one, kiddo,” she said, and she stuck her fork in her cake.
* * *
The next morning I heard Mom blow-drying her hair after her shower, which she rarely did.
I got up and opened the curtains to let in the light.
Mom peeked out of the bathroom. “Oh, did I wake you?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I just woke up.”
Mom wanted to get coffee and rehearse her presentation one more time before the conference, so I got dressed too. The plan was that I’d go with Mom and sit in the back of the meeting room (quietly, I’d promised!).
After Mom’s meeting was over, we’d be able to go out and see the city a little bit before we headed back.
“Whoa… Mom!” I exclaimed as she came out of the bathroom.
Mom spun around so I could see her outfit from every angle, and I hardly recognized her. On most days she wore a button-up shirt, a blazer, and jeans to work, and depending on the season, either ballet flats or boots. She always looked cute, but definitely casual.
Today she was wearing a really nice black suit with a fancy patterned silk blouse under it, and black patent leather high heels. She had a really pretty necklace on that I hadn’t seen her wear before, her hair was blown out, and she had on makeup. She looked amazing!
“I can polish myself up for the city!” Mom laughed.
“Wow. Let me take a picture!” I snapped her photo and sent it to my sisters.
Check it out! Our cool, stylish mom is ready to fire up her speech!
In two seconds Molly texted back,
Whoa. Are you sure that’s our mother?
It would be another hour at least before Jenna even saw it.
Mom and I made our way to the meeting site, which was a big glass office building. I helped her set up her laptop and crawled under the table to plug in the cord, and she clicked through her presentation to make sure everything was reading on the big screen.
I looked at the rows of chairs and wondered if they’d all be filled, and within an hour, they were. Since I was all the way in the back, I could see how many people were in the audience. I hoped Mom wasn’t too nervous.
If she was, you’d never know, because after she was introduced, she strutted out like a pro and walked through the presentation. I couldn’t follow everything she was talking about—lots of gobbledygook about profit and margins—but she spoke loudly and clearly and was even funny. At the end everyone applauded, but no one clapped louder than I did. After Mom’s speech she had to stay and talk to a few people.
I stood a little off to the side and at one point Mom called me over and said, “This is my daughter Kelsey.” And everyone made a fuss over me, told me I was pretty and how much I looked like my mom. It was a little embarrassing, but nice, too.
When everyone left, she said, “Okay, let’s make a run for it!” and we ran back to the hotel, where she changed back to the mom I knew in less than five minutes.
“Ugh, I hate high heels!” she said, throwing them back into her suitcase.
“Do we have time to walk around a little?” I
asked.
“We do!” said Mom. “Let’s see the town.”
We went wandering up and down the streets, popping in and out of all these cute clothing stores and a few antique stores. We found a shirt for Jenna, and a phone case that was just perfect for Molly. It was made out of soccer ball material. I saw a really pretty lavender scarf at this very sleek new boutique and picked it up.
“Do you like that?” asked Mom.
“Yes, but not for me,” I said. “You know who would like this? Lindsay.”
Mom nodded. “It would look great with her dark hair. And that’s very sweet of you to think of her too.”
We put all the bags into the car and Mom said, “Ready to say sayonara to St. Louis?”
“Yep,” I said. “St. Louis is great, but take me home to good old Bellgrove!”
“Your wish is my GPS command!” said Mom, and she punched in HOME in the car system and off we went.
Mom had been right; it was a pretty boring ride, and I guess I was tired, because the next thing I knew, I woke up in our driveway.
“We’re home!” I called as we stepped into the house.
“We missed you!” called Dad from the kitchen.
I sniffed. “Ooh, lasagna!” I said.
“No, my name is Dad, not lasagna,” joked Dad, giving me a hug. “And yes, I made a giant lasagna to welcome you home.”
“How’d it go?” he asked Mom, pulling her in for a kiss.
“She killed it,” I said. “Mom is pretty impressive.”
Dad laughed. “Yes, I know.”
Mom peered in the oven. “Chris, how big is that lasagna? It’s enough to feed an army!”
“You know who likes lasagna?” I asked, not even pausing. “Lindsay. And Uncle Mike and Skylar. If we have extra, should we invite them for dinner?”
Mom smiled. “Well, if you tell my brother there’s lasagna, he’ll be here in about three seconds.”
I texted Lindsay,
R u guys hungry? It’s lasagna night! Come on over!
and sure enough, she immediately texted back,
