See You on a Starry Night

by Lisa Schroeder

  She sighed. “This probably won’t make sense to you, but there are things I miss about being married. Like, it’s nice to have someone to help with things around the house. But …” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “But I don’t miss your father, specifically,” she said. “And I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear, because I’m sure you do miss him.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  I waited for her to say, “I’m sorry,” but she didn’t say a word. A minute passed, the two of us just sitting there in the silence. It was so sad. So quiet. It made me miss my old life more than ever. When she finally spoke, she asked, “Are you hungry?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “No. I ate at Emma’s. She asked me to stay when I ran over to tell her something.”

  “That was nice.”

  “Yeah. We had spaghetti. It was really good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I wish I could have brought some home. Did you get takeout? Want me to dish some up for you?”

  She leaned her head back again and closed her eyes. “Mmm. That’s sweet, thanks. I should probably eat. It’s on the counter. And I got extra fortune cookies, so help yourself.”

  “Okay. Be right back.”

  As I pulled the cartons out of the white paper bag, the fortune cookies tumbled onto the counter. I picked one up, ripped open the plastic, and cracked the cookie open. It read: A very big wish is about to come true.

  I should have been happy about that one. I mean, that’s what Emma and I wanted, wasn’t it? To make a wish come true. But all I could think about was the wish I’d had ever since we’d heard the news in February: that my parents would get back together. That we could be a family again. A month ago, I would have held on to hope that this meant maybe it might come true. But the more time that went by, the more I knew the chances of that happening were really, really small.

  Smaller than a ladybug’s wing.

  Smaller than a watermelon seed.

  Smaller than the tip of a fine-point pen.

  I stuffed the fortune into my pocket. Hopefully, someone else’s wish could come true even if mine never would.

  *  World peace

  *  Life on Mars

  *  For animals to live forever

  *  A library in every neighborhood

  *  Flying cars

  *  That love never ends

  *  To be a part of something special

  The next morning, I was eating peanut butter toast when someone knocked on the front door.

  “Surprise!” Emma said when I answered. She wore jeans and a pink T-shirt that said POWERED BY ICE CREAM. “So glad you’re awake.” She pointed to my wet head of hair. “You don’t even have to use a blow-dryer? Lucky.”

  “Nah, I just didn’t feel like it,” I said. “Anyway, come in. What’s going on?”

  She stepped inside and I shut the door. “Two things. First, Mrs. Button called this morning.”

  “And?”

  “And poor Mr. Button has pneumonia.”

  “Oh, no! That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah. He’s going to be in the hospital for a few more days, at least.”

  “I made him a card and sent it to their house,” I said.

  “That’s so nice. My mom said she’s going to send some flowers to the hospital from all of us.”

  “I bet he’ll like that.”

  “And the second thing is I wondered if you have some time right now to help me before I go to work.”

  “With what?” I asked.

  “I want to look for those cats some more. Laura is really worried about them. And she’s afraid to tell her sister because she knows how upset she’ll be. She just wants to find them before she comes back.”

  “Yeah. I can help. Just give me a minute.”

  While I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, Emma called out, “You didn’t tell me you like to paint. Juliet, these paintings are so good!”

  I finished up and went out to the family room and over to the shelf where a couple of my paintings were on display. One was an owl and the other was a tree. I’d signed them with my name at the bottom, so it wasn’t hard for Emma to figure out who’d painted them.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m definitely better at painting than gymnastics.”

  “Will you paint me something someday?” she asked. “For my room? I’d love it so much. And I can pay you if you want.”

  I smiled. “Oooh, my first commissioned piece.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “When you pay an artist to make you something. But you don’t have to pay me. I’m just joking. You’re a friend. I can do one for free.”

  “Awesome.”

  I grabbed my hoodie and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  We went through the neighborhood to get to her house this time, rather than the boardwalk, so we could look for the cats. A couple of times Emma called out, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” Nothing happened the first time. The second time, a scrawny tabby cat came running out to us. He was so friendly. He let both of us pet him for a minute before he turned and went back to wherever he’d come from.

  When we turned onto Emma’s street, we saw Laura out front along with a man and a woman. As we came closer, Laura waved at us, a big smile on her face. “Girls, I have good news. The cats have been found, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Moon. They found them hiding under their back deck. All the knocking on doors paid off.”

  “I’m so happy you got them back,” Emma said.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “They must have slipped under there last night,” Mr. Moon said. “Our dogs went straight there this morning when we let them outside. I put them back in and was able to lure the cats out with some canned tuna.”

  I smiled. Tuna fish always saves the day!

  “Well, we better get going,” Mrs. Moon said. “We have an appointment.”

  “Oh, but please wait,” Laura said. “I want to give you something. A thank-you gift.” She turned to us. “You, too. I’ll be right back.”

  In about thirty seconds, she came back carrying three small jelly jars filled with something that did not look like jelly at all. She handed one jar to the Moons and the other two to Emma and me. “Spicy Korean sauce. I made a new batch yesterday. It’s good on grilled meat or vegetables and rice. Or anything, really. Well, not fresh fruit. That would be terrible. But, hopefully, you like spicy?”

  “Love spicy,” Mr. Moon said. “Thank you! See you later.”

  “Bye,” Laura said. She turned to us. “I hope you girls like spicy, too. Or someone in your family, anyway.”

  “Can’t wait to try it,” Emma said.

  “Me, too,” I echoed. Again. Emma was always one step ahead of me in the figuring-out-what-to-say department. Maybe when you live in a big family, you learn how to speak up or you get left out.

  “I love to cook,” Laura said. “I’ve always dreamt of opening a small Korean restaurant. I so admire your family’s ice cream shop, Emma. That takes a lot of work.”

  Emma glanced at me with her eyebrows raised. Then she turned back to Laura. “Do you want to talk to my mom or dad about it? Like, ask them questions or whatever?”

  “Oh, no. I don’t want to bother them.”

  Emma pulled out her phone. Probably checking the time. “I actually have to go to work right now,” she said. “You could come with me if you want. My mom will be there. I know she wouldn’t mind.”

  Were we going to try and make Laura’s dream of opening a restaurant come true? That seemed like a really big wish—one that would be hard to make happen. Especially when she was only visiting for a week.

  Laura turned and glanced at the house. “Well, I guess I could. The cats are safe and sound inside now, and I don’t have anything else going on. Let me just lock up and I’ll go with you.”

  “Okay,” Emma said.

  As soon as she left, I said, “Are you thinking what I think y
ou’re thinking?”

  “That this could be the most amazing wish to make come true ever?” she said.

  “But … a whole restaurant?”

  She scowled. “Juliet, what’s wrong with a restaurant?”

  “Nothing,” I said, realizing I might have hurt her feelings. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant is that it would take a long time. Right?”

  She bit her lip. “Oh.”

  “I don’t want to have to wait a year to find out who Some Kid is.”

  “Okay, well, we can still help her. Can’t we?”

  Laura strolled down the drive. “Okay. I’m ready.” She looked at me. “Are you coming with us, too?”

  Emma didn’t even wait for me to reply. “Yes. She’s going to help me unpack some supplies. It’ll go so much faster that way. Then we have something important we have to do.” She looked at me and wiggled her eyebrows. I knew she was talking about going to Henry’s.

  Hopefully, we’d be better at figuring out if Henry was Some Kid than we were at finding missing cats.

  *  Finding lost things

  *  Slicing cheese evenly off the big brick

  *  Gymnastics

  *  Tennis

  *  Softball

  *  Maybe anything athletic

  *  Thinking of the right thing to say quickly

  *  Waiting patiently for the next book in a series I love

  *  Remembering to leave a note when I’m rushing out the door

  “His house is over there,” Emma whispered, like we were spies on a secret mission. Which we kind of were, I guess, even if it didn’t seem very secret to be walking around in broad daylight. “The light green one.”

  Just as I was about to say, “Looks like no one’s around,” Henry came running out the door and down the steps. When he reached the sidewalk, he spotted us.

  “Hey,” he called, his hand on his forehead to block the sun.

  Emma waved. “Hey, Henry.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re, um, taking a walk,” she said.

  “Isn’t it more fun to walk on the beach?” he asked, looking both ways before crossing the street and coming over to us. “Can’t write notes to any mermaids here.”

  “She’s showing me around the neighborhood,” I said quickly. “Sometimes the boardwalk gets really crowded with all the tourists.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It does.”

  “What are you up to?” Emma asked, crossing her arms.

  “I have to do my sister a favor.” He rolled his eyes.

  I glanced at Emma, because this sounded suspicious to me. “What kind of favor?” I asked.

  “She wants me to get her a book at the bookmobile,” he said. “She wrote the title down and said she’d pay me five bucks to go and get it for her.”

  “Is it about Vincent van Gogh?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  He looked at me like I’d just asked him if he was going to have sea urchins for lunch. “No. Not even close. Why would you say that?”

  “Juliet’s obsessed with his artwork, that’s all,” Emma said. “You’ve heard of him, right?”

  “I think so,” he said. “He cut off his ear, didn’t he? Because he was so depressed?”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “Ew, who cares about that? His paintings are some of the best in the world.”

  “Whatever,” he said. “I gotta go. See you later.”

  “But wait,” I called out as he started walking away. “The bookmobile’s closed. Mr. Button’s in the hospital.”

  He turned around. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really,” Emma said. “You’ll have to go to the regular library.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Aw, man. Okay. I’ll get out my bike. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Any special reason why you’re doing her a favor?” Emma asked. I wanted to say, “Like, because she’s writing some emails for you?” But I didn’t.

  He grinned. “Maybe because I’m a nice person?”

  “Nope,” Emma said. “Must be another reason.”

  I couldn’t help adding, “Did she do a favor for you first, and so you’re paying her back?”

  He shook his head. “You girls are so nosy. Why does it matter?”

  Emma turned to me. “I think we’re barking up the wrong tree, as my dad likes to say.”

  “I love that saying,” I said. “And you’re probably right.”

  “You know what I think?” Henry asked as he turned back toward his house. “I think you’ve been talking to the mermaids a little too much.”

  It made me smile. We probably did sound a little bit crazy.

  “Bye, Henry,” Emma called out. “See you Monday in P.E. I know you can’t wait.”

  He just shook his head and kept walking.

  “I don’t know if he’s the one,” I said. “But he’s definitely acting suspicious.”

  “Right?”

  “Hey, what time is it?” I asked.

  “I’m starving, so definitely lunchtime,” she said as she pulled her phone out. “It’s almost one. You want to come back to the house with me for a sandwich?”

  “No, I should get home,” I said. “I forgot to leave a note when I left. My sister might be wondering where I am.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Sorry we’re not any closer to figuring out who Some Kid might be. Or to making someone’s wish come true. At least Laura was happy to have her questions answered, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m glad about that,” I said. “She’s really nice.”

  You know who wasn’t very nice, though? My sister. As soon as I walked in the door, she yelled, “Juliet, where have you been?” She was on the couch, remote in hand. “I’ve been here, waiting for you, for like an hour. I thought we were going to do something?”

  “Sorry, I was at Emma’s.”

  She shut off the TV and got to her feet. “Why didn’t you leave a note?”

  “She came over this morning and asked me to do her a favor. I didn’t know I’d be gone so long. I’m really sorry.”

  “You live here, not there, you know,” she said in a sharp tone.

  Before I could reply, there was a knock on the door. Since I was closest to the door, I answered it. There stood Mr. Dooney, in his striped cap, holding a bouquet of pretty white flowers wrapped in a plastic bag with water at the bottom.

  “Good afternoon, young ladies,” he said. “I’m Mr. Dooney, as you may know. I hope I’m not intruding. I just wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood.” He reached out and handed me the flowers. “I know your grandparents quite well. Your grandma dropped me a postcard to let me know your family would be moving in here. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask, all right?”

  “Thanks,” Miranda said, coming over to where I stood. “That’s really nice of you.”

  “What kind of flowers are these?” I asked, planting my nose right in the center of the bouquet. Their fragrance was rich and sweet. “I love them.”

  “Gardenias,” he said with a sad smile. “I grow them in my yard. They were my wife’s favorite.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Obviously, his wife wasn’t around anymore and that made him sad. Fortunately, my sister stepped in. “It’s nice of you to bring us some. Thank you.”

  He sort of peeked around us. “Looks like you’re pretty well settled. Will you tell your mother I stopped by to say hello? And I really do mean what I said. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

  “We’ll tell her,” I said. “Thanks again.”

  We said good-bye and I closed the door. I turned to my sister. “I need to eat. I’m so hungry, I’m about ready to start munching on these flowers like a horse.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Go eat. But, Juliet, next time you run off like that, either call me or leave a note, okay?”

  “I know, I know!” I put my nose in the flowers again as I walked to the kitchen. “Hey, can
you come help me find a vase, please? I don’t know where she put them.”

  I opened two cupboard doors with no success while Miranda marched in and went to the correct spot the first time. She handed me a gorgeous blue one.

  “Just say it,” she said. “I’m amazing.”

  I gave her a smirk. “Are you going to tell Mom?” I asked as I filled the vase with water. “That I left without telling you where I went?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Miranda said.

  “I said I was sorry,” I reminded her.

  She came over to where I stood and went to work arranging the gardenias. “I know.”

  “Do you think Mr. Dooney heard us arguing?” I asked as I pulled out a box of mac and cheese.

  “Maybe,” she said. “I opened the windows when I came home.”

  “How embarrassing. He probably thinks we’re two horrible children with a single mom who’s never home.”

  She grabbed a pot and filled it with water for me. “Or he thinks we’re two normal sisters who fight sometimes.”

  “Mom and Dad fought sometimes, and look what happened to them,” I said.

  She turned to me. “They were fighting a lot more than sometimes. You know that. And in between the fights, there’d be days or even weeks when they wouldn’t talk to each other at all. And Dad had been sleeping on the couch in his study for who knows how long. It wasn’t normal.”

  As hard as it was to admit it, I knew she was right. I’d tried to push all of that away. To pretend it hadn’t been that bad or that it didn’t matter very much. But they had both seemed pretty miserable not long after my birthday last year.

  It was quiet for a minute before I asked, “But … we’re normal? You and me?”

  “Not gonna lie, sometimes you get on my nerves big-time, Pooh,” she said as she put the pan on the stove. “But guess what.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the only sister I have. And even if I don’t always like you, I always love you. So basically, you’re stuck with me.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Good.”

  “Now hurry up and get your lunch made so we can get out of here and do something,” she said, marching out of the kitchen. “I’ll be waiting out on the deck.”