See You on a Starry Night

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See You on a Starry Night Page 10

by Lisa Schroeder


  I felt a little better, hearing her say that. Sometimes you just need to know someone sees you.

  She took a sip of coffee. “Did you and your sister have a nice day yesterday?”

  “We did,” I said. I didn’t want to keep anything from her, or lie, so I told her all about the sea turtle. “Even though it was frustrating, getting it right, we had a pretty fun day together.”

  Mom smiled. “I’m so glad. That’s exactly what I wanted.” She took a piece of toast and bit into it. “Want the other piece? I doubt I can eat both.”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  She handed it to me and kept talking. “You and your sister need to be there for each other right now. More than ever. This full-time job of mine is going to be a bit hard on all of us, but the good news is that you two have each other. And that is no small thing.”

  I nibbled on the toast. “I know.”

  She smiled before she took a bite of eggs. “Good. So I thought we’d go shopping today for some new school supplies. Make sure you two start off on the right foot on Monday. As in, let’s throw away that binder that’s basically being held together by packing tape and get you something better.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “Promise you won’t get mad?”

  “Mmmmm … okay.”

  “Emma invited me to sleep over tonight. And I really, really want to. She said we could watch The Wizard of Oz together and some other fun things. I know you’re worried I’m bugging them, but they really don’t care. Like, seriously. They don’t.”

  While I talked, she finished her eggs. Then she washed them down with more coffee and wiped her mouth with the napkin I’d put on the tray. Finally, she said, “I think what I’d like to do is meet Emma’s family for myself. Or at least Emma’s mother. That would probably make me feel better. What do you say?”

  “Sure! When do you want to go? We could stop by the ice cream shop. Joanne is always there when it’s open, I think.”

  “How does she do that?” Mom asked. “Work there all the time, I mean?”

  “I think that’s why they aren’t open in the evenings. Well, except sometimes in the summer. I’ve only heard them talk about it a little bit, but I’m guessing it’s a lot easier when it’s only six hours a day instead of ten or whatever.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. She moved the tray to the end of the bed. “Okay, let’s get ourselves ready and head over there when they open. You want to shower first or shall I?”

  “You can. I can just rinse off in the ocean.” Before she could tell me I would not be doing that, I said, “I’m joking. I’ll go after you.”

  * * *

  When we arrived at the Frozen Spoon at eleven, Joanne greeted us with a big smile. “Good morning, Juliet. I’m afraid Emma isn’t here today.”

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “My mom wanted to see your shop and to meet you.”

  “Wonderful,” Joanne said as she came from behind the counter out to where we stood. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Joanne.” She turned and motioned as she said, “And that’s my daughter Molly.”

  “Hello,” Molly said, her long brown hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head.

  “Nice to meet you as well,” my mom said to Joanne. “I’m Wendy. I wanted to thank you for being so kind to Juliet.”

  “Well, the pleasure is ours, I promise,” Joanne said. “We’ve loved having her around.” She looked at me. “Are you staying over tonight? Emma is already planning an elaborate Emerald City meal.”

  “That sounds interesting,” Mom said. “Do you know what’s on the menu?”

  Joanne chuckled. “All I know is that when I left, she was busy making bicycle wheel pasta salad.” She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger. “The pasta is shaped like a bicycle wheel. Because Miss Gulch rides a bike, you know. So clever, that Emma.”

  Oh my gosh. Who even does that? Plans a creative meal to go along with a movie? Obviously, Emma, that’s who. I looked at my mom. “Is it all right?”

  “Sure. Sounds like fun. I still want to take you and Miranda shopping this afternoon, though.” She turned back to Joanne. “Is there anything she can bring tonight, to help with dinner?”

  “Oh, no. Actually, I probably shouldn’t have ruined the surprise. I hope Emma isn’t upset with me.”

  “I’ll act surprised,” I told her. “It should be pretty easy since I don’t know what else she’s planning to go with the pasta salad.”

  “Sounds good,” Joanne said. A family of four stepped into the shop. Joanne greeted them and then turned back to us. “So nice to meet you. I’m glad you stopped in to say hello.”

  Mom said, “Thanks again for your hospitality. We’ll get out of your way now. Take care.”

  We said good-bye and went back outside.

  “She’s very nice,” Mom said.

  “Can I borrow your phone?” I asked her. “I need to call Emma and tell her I can come. What time?”

  Mom fished her phone out of her big, black purse. “Hm, how about three? That should give us enough time to shop.”

  “We’re gonna shop for notebooks for that long?” I asked as I put in the ridiculous pass code to get to the contacts.

  “Well, I’d love to walk on the beach for a bit, if you don’t mind. I haven’t been able to enjoy it since this first week here has been so busy. Then we need to do some grocery shopping, too. And …”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “And what?”

  “I’ve had a change of heart.”

  I was about to hit TALK but waited. “What do you mean?”

  “I think here, in this new place, where it seems I need to allow you to have more independence, a phone might be a good idea after all.”

  I admit, I squealed. Pretty loudly. Then I said, “Really, Mom? Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  I threw my arms around her, almost dropping the phone, which would have been terrible. Nothing says “I’ll be really responsible with my own phone” like dropping your mother’s.

  After I hugged her, I called Emma. “I can sleep over,” I said. “As long as you don’t mind if I bring my brand-new phone with me!”

  *  When I made a hole-in-one playing miniature golf

  *  When I tried taco pizza and it wasn’t gross

  *  When my dad played the ring toss game at the county fair and won the stuffed giraffe I wanted more than anything else in the world

  *  When Inca and I got a $20 bill from a lady who stopped at our lemonade stand and told us to keep the change

  *  When I rode the Snow White ride at Disneyland and was kind of terrified

  *  When I learned mixing two primary colors makes a completely different color

  *  When Dad told me owls have three eyelids for each eye

  *  When I found out people who love you can still disappoint you, even if they don’t mean to

  Along with bicycle wheel pasta salad, we had broomstick corn dogs, a big plate of colorful fruit in the shape of a rainbow, Emerald City green salad, and for dessert, star-shaped Rice Krispies Treat magic wands. I took a photo of the spread and texted Mom and Miranda so they could see it for themselves. Of course, my very first text on my brand-new phone involved food.

  It was so much fun to eat the foods inspired by the movie and talk about our favorite scenes while we ate dinner. I couldn’t believe Emma had gone to all that trouble for me.

  As we ate, I felt guilty even thinking Emma might be tricking me about who answered my message. Still, I knew this sleepover was my chance to find out for sure, once and for all. How did I plan on doing that? I had absolutely no idea. Maybe I’d wave one of those magical Rice Krispies Treat wands and I’d suddenly know whether she was or wasn’t Some Kid. If only.

  “Maybe this should be a monthly tradition,” Molly said as she helped clear the tab
le. “A movie-themed meal and a viewing party.”

  “No. Please,” Thomas said. “We have enough traditions.”

  Enough traditions? It made me curious. “Like what?” I asked. We had traditions around Christmastime, but that was about it.

  “Oh, let’s see, there’s the green pancakes for breakfast on Saint Patrick’s Day. We have to have pies on National Pi Day. And cupcakes on National Cupcake Day. Once a month, we gather in the same spot on the beach and take a photo. Oh, and there’s Family Reading Night every Monday.”

  “Those aren’t really traditions,” Emma said. “Are they? They’re just … fun things we do as a family.”

  I thought about that for a minute. Fun things we do as a family. What fun things did I do with my family? We used to go on hikes together. We used to have a picnic in the backyard on the last evening of the school year, complete with sparkling cider, to celebrate. We used to have a big Fourth of July celebration on our cul-de-sac.

  I hated how everything was “used to.” Did Mom miss those things? Did Dad? The first week after they told us they were splitting up, I spent a lot of time in my room, remembering the fun times we had together and crying because there wouldn’t be any more of them. Not with all four of us. No more vacations. No more family dinners. No more holidays.

  But here, the Rentons had so many traditions, or fun family things, or whatever you called it, someone was actually worried they had too many.

  “The definition of tradition,” Lance said, reading from his phone, “is the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation. So, yeah, those might not really be traditions.”

  Emma turned to me. “Lance is our family word nerd.”

  “Hey,” he said, sweeping his hair back with one hand while he stuffed his phone into his pocket with the other. “Words matter. And when you don’t know what one means, why just guess when you can look it up and know for sure?”

  Maybe a definition was another one of those “detailed things,” like book titles, Emma didn’t care much about. Or maybe she liked guessing?

  “Well,” Emma said as she gently grabbed my arm, “we could stand here all night and discuss traditions and movie-themed dinners, but Juliet and I have important business.”

  I stared at her, trying to figure out what she meant. “We do?”

  “Yes. We have a movie to watch with a cowardly lion, a wicked witch, and flying monkeys. Remember?”

  “Ohhh, right,” I said. “I almost forgot.” Because I was too busy thinking about how much I missed having a complete family. But I didn’t tell her that.

  I followed her upstairs to the bonus room. Emma shut the door, dimmed the lights a little with a fancy dimmer switch, and turned the television on. “I haven’t had time to look for the DVD. It’ll take me a minute to find it. Someone should step up and alphabetize our collection.”

  I decided this was my chance.

  “While you look, I’m going to use the bathroom, okay?”

  She opened two of the doors on the entertainment center and peered inside. “Yeah. Sure.”

  When I left the bonus room, I could still hear voices downstairs, which was a relief. I needed all of them to stay down there a little while longer so I could properly snoop in Emma’s room without getting caught.

  Once in her room, I immediately looked for the beach bag she’d had that day we’d met. Maybe she had a note inside where she’d jotted down her plans or something. After searching around the room and under her bed, I opened her closet. The bag hung on a hook on the door. Inside the bag I found an old, smelly beach towel, three different bottles of sunscreen (because Emma takes the beach rules very seriously), one of the library books we checked out from the bookmobile, a couple of extra pieces of blue ribbon, and a small notebook with a pencil attached.

  I grabbed the notebook and flipped through it. There were lots of pages of doodles. Only a few pages had actual writing on them—two pages were lists (yay, lists!) and the other was a page of math problems, like she’d used the notebook for scratch paper while doing homework. There wasn’t anything about the bottles or a secret club or anything. I put the notebook away, hung the bag on the hook, and shut the closet door.

  As I walked back to the bonus room, I knew there was only one way to find out for sure if Emma was Some Kid. I needed to sneak downstairs to the family computer in the middle of the night, while everyone slept, and see if I could find any emails sent to my email address.

  My stomach twisted into a knot at the thought. But what other choice did I have?

  Aunty Em

  A dog named Toto and a picnic basket

  Munchkins

  A scarecrow, a tin man, and a lion

  A rainbow

  Ruby-red shoes

  Glinda the good witch

  A star-shaped wand

  A big, high crown

  The shiny yellow brick road

  What if the computer has a password on it?

  What if someone gets up for a warm glass of milk (yuck)?

  What if there’s a burglar alarm I don’t know about and it goes off?

  These are just some of the questions that swarmed my brain like a bunch of angry bees as I lay there waiting for it to get late enough so I could head downstairs. I knew Emma was already asleep because she was snoring. Not super loud or anything. In fact, it was kind of a funny snore—a soft little gurgle every now and then.

  She snored. I worried. I tried to distract myself by making my own list of favorite things from The Wizard of Oz, but I couldn’t really focus.

  Emma had asked me if I wanted to charge my phone overnight, but I told her I still had a lot of battery life left. Really, I’d wanted to keep it with me because it had a flashlight and I’d need it to get through the house.

  I checked the time. It was now a little after one. I knew her siblings might stay up into the wee hours of the morning, but I figured they’d be in their rooms and wouldn’t see me. And if they did, I could say I needed a drink of water.

  The longer I lay there, the more anxious I got. The thing was, I knew it was wrong to snoop, especially on something like a computer. And the more I thought about it, the more I knew the idea of Emma being Some Kid was kind of ridiculous. Maybe she really had thought she’d given me her email address. It was an easy mistake. Wasn’t it?

  And maybe there was more than one way to find out. One that was much better than spying on someone’s private emails. I threw the covers off the bed, and while I held my phone, I climbed up the ladder to the top bunk. I crawled over and sat against the railing.

  “Emma?” I whispered, touching her arm. “Emma, can you wake up? I need to ask you something.”

  She moaned and rolled over. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Your sister didn’t run and get my bottle out of the ocean, did she? And then give it to you?”

  Emma sat up. I turned on the flashlight and held my phone facedown so it wasn’t too bright but we could see each other a little better. Emma did not look happy.

  “You think my sister is Some Kid?” she asked.

  “Um, not really.”

  She was quiet for a moment. I could almost see the gears in her brain spinning. “You think I’m Some Kid?”

  “It’s just, you looked surprised when I told you I didn’t have your email address. Like you’d let something slip. And the person writing the emails does sound like you. Kind of.”

  “I can’t believe …”

  Her voice trailed off. Her very disappointed-sounding voice.

  “Juliet, why would I do that?” she asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “For the fun of it? Because you were worried someone would never write to me, and you wanted to pretend that someone did?”

  She shook her head. “For the fun of it? For the fun of lying to you? I can’t believe you’d think I’d ever do that.”

  I hung my head. The way she spoke to me, I couldn’t believe I’d think that either. What was wrong with me? I wan
ted to cry. To run away. To go back home and never think about any of this ever again. I felt awful. But I knew if I did that, if I ran away, I’d lose a good friend. A friend who had been extra nice to me from the very first moment she’d met me. So I decided to tell her.

  “Okay, the thing is? I have this thing about lies,” I said, my voice shaking. “I hate them. I hate them so much. My parents told us they’d never get a divorce. And now that’s what they’re doing. And so I guess I’m more suspicious than I should be. Because it hurt so much. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting her elbow on her leg and resting her chin in her hand. “It does. My mom and dad always tell us that trust has to be earned.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It’s like, before your mom let you get a phone, you had to show her that you could take good care of hers sometimes. It’s the same with people. You want to believe everything I say, but we haven’t known each other that long. So I have to show you that I mean what I say. And that I don’t make things up for the fun of it.”

  “Well, thanks for not being mad. I’m really sorry.”

  “Thanks for telling me what happened,” she said. “Everyone has a thing, you know?”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah. Like, I have this thing where I get tired of being with my family all the time, but I hate being alone. That’s why I love being with friends. I told my mom once that it seems like I should love to be by myself. But unless I’m reading, I don’t really like being alone. And now I know you have this thing where you don’t always believe what people tell you. Everyone has a thing. Sometimes a few things. It’s just the way it is.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a yawn. “I guess you’re right.”

  She yawned, too. “Think you can go to sleep now?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m suddenly so tired.”

  “Okay. Get to sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes. It’s the last day of spring break.”

  “I know. So what are we doing?”

 

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