The Many Mysteries of the Finkel Family

by Sarah Kapit

  The strings securing Micah’s bottle-cap sculpture had snapped, causing dozens of caps to scatter across the floor. With every CLUNK of a cap, Caroline felt her nervousness heighten. Her hands flew up to her ears to cover them, but it didn’t do much good.

  Things were too loud, too difficult, too everything.

  She whimpered out loud and raced away from their table. It helped, but only a little.

  Micah said a Very Bad Word. “Sorry, sorry!” he said. “I should have seen that this wasn’t going to work. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sorry.”

  Since Caroline had abandoned her tablet amid all the ruckus, she couldn’t really respond. Not right away. She wasn’t sure what she’d say anyway.

  After taking a proper number of deep breaths, Caroline returned and helped Micah collect all of the bottle caps. Eventually things settled down to something that resembled normalcy.

  She deleted the words she’d typed into her app and for the rest of the period, she said very little.

  Lara would be so disappointed in her. She just knew it. What was worse, she was disappointed in herself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:

  THE RIGHT WORDS

  “So, how did it go?” Lara said. “Did you get to be properly bossy?”

  Caroline winced. Her sister looked at her expectantly, hands flapping ever so slightly. For whatever reason, Lara obviously cared about the whole Micah situation. She’d gone out of her way to help, but now Caroline had to admit she’d failed.

  “It didn’t go at all,” Caroline said shortly.

  “What? Why not?”

  Sighing deeply, Caroline tried to explain the whole bottle-cap situation as best she could. It wasn’t a great excuse, she knew, but it was something.

  As Caroline described the situation, Lara nodded. “Ugh, sudden noises.” Lara shuddered dramatically. “I don’t blame you for getting upset. I would have hated that too.”

  At that Caroline managed a small smile. Lara might be infuriating at times, true. But she still understood Caroline better than anyone else. She probably always would.

  “I wish I had been able to say something to him,” she said. “But it was already so hard to find the words and then when the whole bottle-cap thing happened, I just felt so many different things and . . . I don’t even know. It’s probably stupid to get so upset by bottle caps.”

  Lara frowned at her. “It is not stupid. And we are going to figure out a way to solve the Micah Problem. I promise.”

  When Lara used that voice, there really was no talking her out of anything. And indeed, once they got home Lara plopped down in the den and immediately focused her attention on the Problem. (The way Lara said it, a capital letter was necessary, even in Caroline’s thoughts.)

  Caroline wasn’t sure all of this would do much good. But she loved her sister for it anyway.

  “We are going to figure this out,” Lara insisted.

  “Okay,” Caroline said. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say at this point.

  Lara, of course, had plenty of contributions to the conversation. She flipped open her detective notebook, as if Caroline’s inability to stand up to Micah was just another mystery in need of investigation. She scribbled something down in the notebook, then chewed on the cap to her pen.

  “I have a question for you,” Caroline blurted out.

  “Hmm?” Lara looked up from her scribbling. “Yes?”

  “Why are you working so hard to help me?”

  At that, Lara finally put down her pen. “Are you saying that our sisterly bond isn’t enough to inspire me to help you?” She stuck out her tongue. “Why, I am very nearly offended by that.”

  “I certainly don’t mean to question our sisterly bond,” Caroline said, repressing the urge to roll her eyes. “But why are you trying to help me? Lately you haven’t been doing that very much at all.”

  All at once Lara’s face became oddly serious. “Yeah. I know.” She paused. “I guess after . . . everything that happened . . . I want to make amends. I want to show that you were right to forgive me.”

  “I appreciate the help. I do,” Caroline said. “But I’m not the only one you need to make amends to, you know.”

  Her sister stared at her notebook page but didn’t write anything down. “I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I . . . I wish I knew how to do the whole amends thing better. Especially with Dad.”

  Caroline could not help but think of her all-too-awkward letter to Marissa. The other girl had accepted it with a haughty sniff and shoved it in her backpack without a single glance. Honestly, Caroline could not blame her under the circumstances. There had to be a better way to say sorry than that, surely.

  “I’ll try to help you make amends,” Caroline offered. “It’s only fair, since you’re helping me with Micah.”

  The beginnings of a smile popped up on Lara’s face. “I think we have a deal.”

  * * *

  * * *

  NEW MISSION: I will try to make amends with, well, everyone.

  QUESTION FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION: How?

  When it came to Mission Make Amends, Lara decided she should start off easy. She figured that getting forgiveness from Benny shouldn’t be too difficult. And indeed, it was not. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “Really, really sorry.”

  Benny shrugged. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have taken Ima’s pin-thingy. And it was mean for me to say that you’re a spy. Even though you are.”

  “Not anymore,” Lara said. “Promise.”

  And then she spent the next half hour watching Benny explain his zipper-zipping machine. By the end of it he was beaming and bouncing and being very Benny-like in general. Before leaving, she promised to be on the lookout for stuff he could use in future inventions. Stage 1: complete.

  Noah wasn’t too difficult, either. When Ima started nagging him to put in his college applications over dinner, Lara decided to say something. She might as well try to do good when getting involved in other people’s business.

  “I think it’s cool that Noah wants to be a mechanic,” Lara said.

  Her brother looked surprised, but he smiled. “Thanks, Lara.”

  Dad agreed. “Ezter, we’ve discussed this. Can we maybe not get into it right now?”

  Although she pursed her lips, Ima let the matter go. Lara counted that as having Made Amends to Noah.

  Next up was Aviva. This time, she was sure to knock before entering Aviva’s room. She entered to find Aviva sitting at her desk. A pencil was tucked behind her ear, brushing against her tightly woven braid.

  “Hello,” Aviva said. “Why are you here? Not that it isn’t very nice to see you.”

  “I am here to make amends,” Lara said. She might as well be honest about it.

  Aviva frowned. “I think I know what that word means, but I am not entirely sure.”

  Right. Lara considered her predicament. Although she’d embarked on a mission that had amends in the name, she found it was rather more difficult to explain the word than she’d thought. Several moments of silence lingered as she tried to come up with just the right response.

  “It means I want to say sorry,” she said finally. “For being so mean to you at Rosh Hashanah dinner.”

  Her cousin gave her a tight smile. “It’s all right. And you have already told me that you’re sorry. This is the fifth time you’ve apologized to me.”

  Huh. Lara didn’t realize that she’d apologized to Aviva quite so much. Now that the fact was laid before her, it all seemed a little pathetic. But this would be the last, most important apology. “Making amends isn’t just about saying sorry, though. It’s about showing that you’re sorry. And I want to show you. So, uh, is there anything I can do for you? To show you how sorry I am.”

  Forehead creased in concentration, Aviva twirled one of her braids. Lara focused her at
tention on the twirling rather than Aviva’s face. It felt easier, somehow.

  “You are already helping me a lot with my writing in English,” Aviva told her finally. “I think that is a good way to make amends with me.”

  Lara just barely restrained herself from letting out a frustrated grunt. Why did her cousin have to be so very nice about everything, to the point where she didn’t even ask for a favor? Couldn’t she see that Lara was trying to be good, or at least better than she had been?

  “I can help you with your writing. Sure. But isn’t there something else you want? Something else I could do for you to make up for everything?”

  Aviva stopped twirling her hair. “Well . . . there is one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I know we have not always gotten along. But I would like for us to try and be friends.”

  Lara stared. Of all the things she might have expected her cousin to say, she had not anticipated that particular request. And yet there was only one response.

  “I would like that too,” Lara said. She extended her hand and Aviva shook it.

  In her mind, Lara checked Aviva off the list. Now only Dad was left.

  Lara’s skin heated up every time she thought about it. After what she’d done to Dad, how could she ever Make Amends?

  * * *

  * * *

  It turned out that Lara’s solution to the Micah Problem was a good one. Now Caroline just had to do it.

  You can, her sister’s voice chanted in her ear. Remember— we made a deal.

  Indeed they had. And Caroline intended to keep her end of the bargain.

  When she walked into Experimental Art, she kept her back straight and her purpose clearly in mind. She took in one, two, three deep breaths while she walked over to her spot. Well, her and Micah’s spot.

  Micah usually rushed into class at the last possible second, but today he was already there, doodling on a piece of scratch paper. Was this perhaps a sign? And if so, of what?

  Caroline had barely settled into her seat before pulling out her tablet. She opened up her speech app. But instead of going to the keyboard function, as she normally did, she cued up one of the speeches that she’d already written.

  That had been Lara’s idea. Since coming up with the right words at the right moment can be hard, Lara had pointed out, why not write the words ahead of time? The speech app was perfect for it.

  And so Caroline tapped the first of her preprogrammed speeches. “I need you to listen to me.”

  Micah’s eyebrow arched up in surprise, but he nodded. “Sure, Caro.”

  Caroline didn’t feel much like Caro at the moment. But then, Caro was Micah’s friend who couldn’t stand up to him. Today she had to be different. She had to be Bossy Caroline, as Lara put it.

  Tapping her foot just a little bit, she pulled up the next speech:

  “I like being your friend and I want to keep being your friend. But I don’t like pulling pranks on people. It’s mean and scary and it got me in trouble. I wish we could do things together that aren’t just pulling pranks on Marissa or other people. Thank you for listening and I hope you still want to be my friend.”

  She had written the whole thing last night, doing her very best to select the right words. Although she’d considered making her explanation longer, ultimately she decided that this was enough. It had to be enough. Lara had given it her stamp of approval, after all.

  Caroline listened to her own words and her leg-tapping intensified. This had to work and Micah had to listen to her. Didn’t he?

  Her computer voice stopped speaking, but Micah did not respond right away. He looked, Caroline had to admit, thoroughly confused by the whole thing.

  “I thought you liked the pranks,” he said. “My brothers and I always prank each other and it’s fun.”

  This time, the right words came quickly. “I am not your brothers.”

  “Yeah, your hair is a little on the long side. Um . . . if I’m being honest, I didn’t know you felt that way. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  Figuring out what to say next required all of Caroline’s concentration, but she was ultimately pleased with what she came up with. “I didn’t know how. Now I do.”

  “Okay,” Micah said. He returned to his drawing.

  Caroline frowned. What did he mean, okay? Okay, they were still friends? Okay, but I’m going to continue doing pranks anyway? She did not know and she did not like it.

  “What do you mean? Okay what?” she pressed him.

  “It’s okay that you don’t want to do pranks. But I do.”

  Then, nothing.

  Caroline stared at her tablet screen and thought long and hard. Although she wanted to ask him if they were still friends, she did not. Lara’s words came back to her. If he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, then good riddance.

  But . . . Micah had been a good friend, at least some of the time. They’d had their texts and their lunches and sitting together in art class.

  It had been nice, having a friend.

  An ache worked its way through Caroline’s chest—small yet sharp.

  It hurt. Part of her wanted to tell Micah that she hadn’t meant it, that of course she wanted to continue doing stuff with him! Wasn’t it worth it, if she could keep having him as a friend?

  No. It wasn’t worth it. Bossy Caroline knew what she wanted, and she’d said it out loud. She could not un-say it now. Sighing, Caroline picked up her pencil and returned to her sketch.

  So, maybe she didn’t have Micah anymore. But she looked around the room full of kids. Marissa and her friends were there, but they weren’t the only ones. Surely someone else could be her friend. Someone who wouldn’t ask her to do terrible things to other people.

  She would just have to try again.

  Caroline turned to the quiet girl who often sat across from her and Micah. They usually said hello, but rarely anything else. Maybe today could be different.

  “Hi,” Caroline said to the girl. “What are you making?“

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO:

  THE FINAL MISSION

  MISSION MAKE AMENDS:

  1. Caroline

  2. Benny

  3. Noah

  4. Aviva

  5. Dad (?????)

  Lara looked over her list. At the very least, she felt satisfied-ish with her progress. After all, she had officially Made Amends with almost everyone.

  But then there was Dad. Just looking at his name on her list gave her a mild stomachache.

  Caroline peered over her shoulder. (Lara very nicely chose not to comment on her sister’s poor manners. She was Making Amends, after all.) “You need to talk to Dad,” Caroline informed her.

  Lara frowned. Slightly. “I know that. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.”

  That response merely earned her a Look from Caroline. She probably deserved it.

  “Come on,” Caroline prodded her. “I think he’s downstairs right now.”

  Hands flapping at top speed, Lara searched for a good-sounding excuse for why she couldn’t possibly talk to Dad at this very moment. The only thing she came up with was the rather queasy state of her stomach. But that wasn’t really a good excuse, was it?

  She considered Caroline. At the moment her sister was staring at her tablet, but Lara felt the weight of her gaze nevertheless. Her sister had stood up to the boy who was her only friend in the world, outside of their own family. From what Lara gathered, it hadn’t gone too well. But Caroline stood up for herself anyway. That took serious bravery—the real kind, not the spying-on-your-family kind. Surely Lara could also be really and truly brave.

  “Fine,” she mumbled.

  Finding Dad’s precise location did not require any significant powers of deduction. The smells coming from the kitchen—cheesy, spinach-y smells—t
old Lara exactly where to find him.

  Disrupting Dad when he was in chef mode was, generally speaking, a no-no. Maybe Lara should try again later.

  No, a voice said in her head. You have to do this now. The voice sounded rather like Caroline’s.

  So Lara approached her father, words and fears and possibilities running through her brain like a bad headache.

  “Oh, hi, Lara-bear,” Dad said. He slid a dish into the oven and closed the door. “What brings you to these parts?”

  “I’m making amends,” Lara informed him. She couldn’t think of how else to describe it.

  “Ah.” He leaned up against the kitchen counter, eyebrows furrowed together. “Well, I appreciate the gesture.”

  Dad started to wipe food-ish things off the counter. Lara supposed it was her turn to say something that was properly amends-worthy. If she could think of such a thing.

  The oven hummed on in the background. Lara resisted the urge to peek inside. She picked up a wooden spoon that happened to be close by and began to twirl it—slowly at first, then more quickly. Finally, she willed herself to speak.

  “I’m really sorry. I was really horrible at Rosh Hashanah. I shouldn’t have said all of those things about you. I didn’t mean them, honestly I didn’t.”

  Her father squeezed her shoulder. “I love to hear that, Lara-bear. But I’m pretty sure you did mean it. Well, some of it, at least.”

  Lara’s face heated. And she was pretty sure it wasn’t because of her closeness to the oven.

  “That’s not true!” she insisted. “I don’t really think that you’re . . . those horrible things I said about you. I mean, you’re my dad.”

  He nodded. “I know, honey. And I’m not saying that you think those things all the time. But I know I haven’t been the best dad the past few months, ever since I lost my job.”

  Lara nearly dropped the spoon. She’d had this conversation in her head many times. So that she could plan out what to say. But never had any of those Dad-voices in her head admitted that he’d made mistakes.