by Cotterill
She jumps a bit and blinks. “Darby! What … ? What is it?”
“We can do the chocolate hunt again!” I say. This solves everything—it fixes the bad hunt this morning. “After lunch! You can put all the chocolates back in the yard, and we can do it again!”
Mom turns to look at me, and her face is all blotchy. I am surprised, and then I remember the argument with Kaydee. And Mom’s burnt hand, which is all wrapped in paper towels.
“I don’t think we can do that,” Mom says quietly.
“Why not?”
“Darby! Just … Just leave it, okay? I can’t … think about that right now.” She turns back to the meat. “I have to get lunch on the table, and the potatoes are half burned already.”
“I’ll help,” I say, feeling bad that she’s stressed. I get the silverware and put it on the table and then get water glasses and fill a jug.
Mom doesn’t say anything else while she’s carving the meat, but then she gets the plates out and starts serving. “Can you … call the others?” she says in a quiet voice.
I go to the stairs and call up, “Kaydee, Lissa, Olly! Lunchtime!”
I hear a grunt from Olly. He trudges down the stairs, his hair all sticking up. “I am so sick of the power being out,” he grumbles. “It’s almost enough to make me go for a run, just for something to do.”
“The sun is out,” I say.
He glances out of the window. “Oh yeah. We could play soccer later. You want to?”
“I want to do the chocolate hunt again,” I tell him. “Dad said we could put all the chocolates back in the yard and do it again, the right way this time.”
He laughs and shakes his head, sitting down at the table. “You’re nuts.”
“I’m not!”
Mom brings a plate of food over to the table. “Here you go,” she says, putting it in front of him.
“What did you do to your hand?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” she says. “Burnt it a bit with some hot water.”
“You shouldn’t put that on it,” Olly says. “It’ll stick. We did it in first aid. You’re supposed to put plastic wrap on it. I think.”
“I don’t have time now,” Mom says. “Isn’t your sister coming down?” she asks me.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
Mom goes to the hallway and calls up, her voice strained. “Kaydee! Lissa! Lunch is on the table!”
She comes back into the kitchen and puts a plate of food in front of me. I realize I am starving! I dig in right away, and it’s only when I’ve eaten half of what’s on my plate that Lissa comes into the kitchen. She stands in the doorway, looking awkward. “Um …” she says.
“Sit down, Lissa,” says Mom. “I cooked you some vegetarian sausages instead of the beef.”
“Oh. Thanks. Um …” Lissa sits down next to me.
“Where’s Kaydee?”
“She … er … She’s not coming down.” Lissa looks at the table while she says this.
There’s a silence.
Olly glances from Lissa to Mom and back again. “What’s going on?”
Mom says, “It’s nothing.”
I look at Lissa. “We’re going to do the chocolate hunt again after lunch,” I say. “Do it right this time.”
She tries to smile at me, but her face is tight and pale, and it’s not a good smile. Mom puts a plate of food in front of her, but Lissa just stares at it as if she’s not sure what to do.
“The greenhouse is all glass everywhere,” I say.
“I hope you didn’t go near it,” Mom says, getting herself a plate and sitting down at the end of the table.
“So can we do the chocolate hunt again?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Mom says. “Once is enough.”
“Is Dad coming in for lunch?” Olly says, looking at the silverware.
“I doubt it,” Mom says. And then she clamps her mouth shut for a moment, like she’s about to cry.
Lissa shifts on her chair and pokes at a sausage with her fork.
Olly stares around the table. “Wow, I know we’re a dysfunctional family, but this is a whole other level. What’s going on?”
Mom just shakes her head, and then makes a kind of sob and gets up and goes to get a kitchen towel, which she presses to her face.
Lissa says very quietly, “I’m not very hungry,” gets up, and makes a dash for the stairs.
… the day Mom and Dad bought the kitchen table. It was a lot bigger than the one we had before.
When the delivery truck came, the writing on the side said, “DELIVERS ON TIME, ON QUALITY, ON THE MONEY” and Dad made a twisty shape with his mouth and said the van was two days late and the table hadn’t been cheap, so that was two out of the three already wrong.
There were two delivery men and they wore checkered shirts and jeans, and one of them stared at me quite a lot and offered me some chewing gum. Then he laughed like it was a joke, though I wasn’t sure why. The other one had a friendly face and a terrible cough. I saw Mom sidling out of the way when he came past in case he coughed germs on her.
The two men got the table out of the back of the truck and onto the ground. “There you go,” said Chewing Gum Man. “Nice piece of furniture, in’t it?”
We all stared at the table. Even I could see that it was far too wide to fit through the front door.
Mom said, “I thought … I mean … How are you going to get it into the kitchen?”
“Not our problem, love,” said Chewing Gum Man. “We only have to deliver it. Here we are. Here it is. Sign here.” He held out a form and a pen. To Dad.
“Whoa,” said Mom. “I ordered it. It’s my name on the slip.” She snatched the form from Chewing Gum Man. Then she read it very carefully, including the small print at the bottom.
“Women, eh?” said Coughing Man, grinning at Dad and rolling his eyes.
“Women,” said Dad. “Without them, this business would collapse.”
Coughing Man looked a little embarrassed. He coughed.
Mom sighed and said, “It does say they only have to deliver to the driveway, not into the house.” She signed the form, adding, “I think it’s unreasonable.”
Coughing Man and Chewing Gum Man got back into their truck and waved goodbye, though they didn’t look at Mom again.
Mom and Dad stared at the table, sitting in the middle of the stony track. “We’ll have to take its legs off,” said Mom. “I’m sorry. I thought it would come flat-packed.”
Dad grinned. “Didn’t read the small print?”
“Oh, shut up,” she told him, but she was smiling too.
My mom has always been good at solving problems.
Chapter 25
When I come out of my remembering, Lissa has gone and Olly is finishing his lunch. Mom is nowhere to be seen. The leftover meat, potatoes, and vegetables are gently steaming on the side by the stove. I finish up the rest of my food. Olly pushes his plate back and then puts his head in his hands. “Why is everyone so dumb?” he groans.
“I’m not dumb,” I say, indignant.
“I’m not talking about you,” Olly says. “I’m talking about Kaydee. What a waste.”
“A waste of what?” I scrape my fork across the plate to get up all the gravy.
“A waste of herself.” He thumps the table. “She’s pretty—she could have any boy she wanted. What’s she doing with a girl?”
I shrug. “I dunno.”
Olly goes on. “She’s got all the boys at school falling at her feet. She doesn’t even notice them.”
I stare at him. He seems awfully worked up about this.
He sees me staring, and his face goes very red. “What? I’m just saying, that’s all. Plenty of boys would treat her well; plenty of them would be proud to have her as a girlfriend. But no—she has to decide she prefers girls.” He throws up his hands. “Never mind those of us who’ve been …” He stops talking.
“Been what?” I ask. I get confused when people don’t finish thei
r sentences.
“Nothing,” he says. “Forget it, Darby. Forget all of it.”
“Lissa is nice,” I say. “Kaydee’s going to marry her and they’re going to live happily ever after.”
“Oh, don’t be stupid, she’s not going to marry Lissa,” Olly says. “She’s just … I don’t know what she’s doing. It must be a phase. She’ll come around to boys in the end.”
A small sound makes me look up.
Kaydee is standing in the doorway.
Chapter 26
Olly and Kaydee look at each other, and in Kaydee’s eyes there’s something like fire. Not actual fire, but she is staring very, very hard, like she could shoot through him with lasers. The edges of her eyelids are pink and wet.
Then I miss a bit, because the next time I connect with the room, Kaydee has gone and Olly is sitting with his head in his hands. Then he thumps the table again and says a rude word, very loudly, and then he stands up so suddenly that his chair makes a horrible squeaking sound on the floor.
He leaves, and I hear his footsteps go out through the utility room. And then, like a miracle, there’s a phtoo and the microwave clock lights up, flashing 00:00, and the radio comes on.
“Electricity!” I say joyfully. Now I can plug in my laptop and watch dance videos!
I run upstairs to my room. I have missed my dancing and singing so much!
My laptop boots up and I load one of my favorite songs. It’s by an old band called NSYNC. They have really good dance routines that aren’t too hard to learn. I like “Tearin’ Up My Heart,” and when that one has finished, I do it again because I missed a few steps. I have a pretend microphone that Mom bought me from the dollar store. It doesn’t plug into anything, but it’s really good to sing into.
It’s late in the day when Mom comes knocking on my door. “You hungry?” she asks.
I am red faced and sweaty from the dancing, but I feel great. “Mom, let me show you this one,” I say, and I put on a music video really loud. Then I do all the moves perfectly.
She smiles at me. “That’s wonderful, Darby, well done.” She gives me a hug. “My little star. Going to set the world on fire.”
“Yeah!” I say. “On TV, that’s where I’m going to be. And in movies. And in a band.”
She cups my face in her hands. “You can be anything you want to be, Darby. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“I won’t,” I say.
“Now, come on. It’s dinnertime.”
To my surprise, everyone is there: Dad, Kaydee, Lissa, and Olly—and me and Mom of course. Even Pike and Butter have come in, cozying up to Cherry in his basket. It’s nice—the whole table is full of people. I sit down next to Olly. There’s baked potatoes and cold meats and cheese and hummus and tomatoes and cucumber and all kinds of things. I push the bowl of tomatoes away from me—ew.
“So, Darby,” says Dad, “you been dancing? I heard thumping around up there.”
“She’s done some fantastic routines,” Mom says with a smile. “I popped in on her a couple of times this afternoon and she was totally engrossed.”
“I’m not gross!” I protest.
Mom laughs. “Engrossed. It means you were completely focused on your dancing. You didn’t even notice me peeking in through the doorway.”
“What’s everyone else been doing?” Dad asks, though his voice sounds croaky.
I look at him. “Have you got a sore throat?” I ask.
He coughs. “No. No, I’m fine.” He turns to Olly. “What you been up to?”
Olly shrugs. “Video games.”
“Kaydee? Lissa?” Dad says.
Kaydee says, “Chatting.” Lissa glances at her and says nothing.
“Can you pass the ham?” asks Mom. Her voice sounds funny too.
“How’s the greenhouse?” Kaydee asks Dad.
He sighs. “Gone. I mean, we’ve lost all the fruit inside. The other three houses are fine. Tornadoes are so specific; it’s baffling.” He shakes his head. “But at least the power is back on, and the vents are operating, and the irrigation system too. So, looks like we’ve saved the rest of the crop.”
“What about the polytunnels?” Mom asks.
Dad winces. “Yeah, they’re not so good. Should have held off on skinning them. More money.”
I tune out and concentrate on my food. Everyone is behaving normally, eating and passing things. Mom and Dad are talking about the farm, but Mom’s eyes keep flicking to Kaydee and Lissa. Something feels wrong.
I look at Lissa carefully. Underneath the makeup and everything, she’s really quite pretty. Not as pretty as Kaydee, of course. But she was kind to me when she did my makeover, and she drew an amazing portrait of me, and I feel sorry for her because her dad’s in prison and she hasn’t had a nice time.
Then I think something else: I’m not jealous of Kaydee and Lissa. Lissa isn’t Kaydee’s sister. I am. Kaydee will never have another sister. She can have a girlfriend, but that’s not the same thing. Kaydee will love her in a different way than she loves me.
“Darby?” Mom is staring at me. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I say. I realize everyone is staring at me.
“You’ve got a huge goofy smile on your face,” says Dad, grinning in response. “Are you thinking of something that makes you happy?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Care to share?” he suggests.
But how can I tell them what I’ve been thinking? The thoughts are right there in my head, but I’m not so good at putting them into words. Finding the right words is hard, and I might get it wrong, and I don’t really know how to start … so I shrug and say, “I dunno.”
… when Kaydee told me she was going to walk to a friend’s house, because her friend had loads of plums in their garden and she wanted help to pick them and Kaydee loves plums, so she set off to her friend’s house.
And Mom came in and asked, “Where’s Kaydee?” and I didn’t know how to start my answer because should I start with plums or Kaydee or her friend or the walking? So I shrugged and said, “Dunno,” which wasn’t true but was easier than trying to explain.
And Mom got very agitated and went all around the house calling, and then she phoned Dad, and then she went out. I played a game on my tablet that was all about putting colors into boxes.
And much, much later, Kaydee came home with a bag full of plums, and Mom grabbed her and hugged her really hard and shouted at her that no one had known where she was and she can’t ever go off without telling someone.
And Kaydee looked at me and said, “But I told Darby where I was going.”
And then everyone was angry with me.
Chapter 27
It’s when we’re clearing the table that it happens. “Kaydee,” says Mom in a cheerful voice, “I think maybe we should let Lissa get a good night’s sleep tonight, as she’ll be going home tomorrow. You could sleep in Darby’s room.”
I am surprised but also very excited. “Yes!” I say. “Cool idea!”
Kaydee’s face is still and tight, like she’s forgotten how to move the muscles in it. “Why?” she asks.
Olly is clearing plates into the dishwasher, but he keeps looking at Kaydee, so I know he’s listening.
“I just think it would be best,” Mom says in a low voice.
“Best for who?” Kaydee demands, and not in a low voice.
“Do I really have to spell it out?” Mom says.
Dad interrupts. “Is everything okay? Ruth, is there a problem?”
Mom takes a deep breath and says, “I just think … they shouldn’t share a room.”
Dad looks completely baffled. “Kaydee and Lissa?” he says, his forehead creasing into lines. “Why not?”
“Yeah, Mom, why not?” Kaydee’s eyes are doing that fierce burning thing again.
“What’s all this about?” Dad asks.
“If it were a boy staying over, we wouldn’t let him share her room, would we?” Mom asks.
“No …” sa
ys Dad slowly. “I guess not. But it’s not a boy. It’s her best friend.”
“She doesn’t want them sharing a bed, Dad,” Olly butts in. “How dense can you be?”
There’s a sort of silence, and Dad’s face goes through a combination of expressions. He looks confused, and then he looks like he’s seen a ghost (Max at school says he’s seen a ghost and it wasn’t in a white sheet or anything—it looked like a normal person only it walked through a wall) and then his lips press together and I think maybe he is angry. “Kaydee,” he says, and his voice is thin and nervous, “is this … what is this?”
“What do you mean?” Kaydee says, and her eyes are very bright and shiny. Lissa comes to stand next to her and holds her hand.
“Have you … ?” Dad doesn’t know what to say next. “Is this … ? Are you … ?”
Olly throws up his hands. “Good grief, Dad.” Then he leaves the room.
“What if I am?” counters Kaydee.
“It’s not …” Mom starts. Then she stops and starts again. “Darling, we don’t mind who or how you are or anything. It’s not a big deal.”
“Really?” says Kaydee. “Because it sounds like it’s a big deal.”
“I’m just … disappointed for you,” Mom says. “Life is going to be so much harder if you take this route.”
I’m not quite sure what she’s talking about. Is Kaydee going away? Because nobody told me.
“It’s not a choice,” Kaydee says, and I can see Lissa’s hand tighten around hers. “It’s who I am.”
Oh! She’s talking about loving Lissa, a girl, not a boy. I go and stand on Kaydee’s other side and take her other hand. “I don’t mind,” I say loudly. “I love Kaydee and I want her to be happy.”
“Oh, Darby, it’s not as simple as that,” Mom says, as though I’m stupid.
“Yes, it is,” I say. But I am scared. No one in this room is happy at this moment.
“You don’t understand,” Mom says, and I think it’s the first time ever she’s said that to me.
It makes me very angry. “Yes, I do,” I say. “Kaydee and Lissa love each other.”