Abby, Tried and True

by Donna Gephart

  “What’s wrong?” Abby asked.

  Mom Rachel hoisted the duffel bag and brushed past her. “He’s just tired, Abigail.”

  Abby looked at Paul for confirmation.

  He nodded and walked in.

  She followed them inside, sure that when Paul saw the Monopoly game and his favorite snacks on the table, he’d perk up.

  Miss Lucy jumped all over Paul’s legs and yipped and whined like she hadn’t seen him in a thousand years.

  He bent to pet her, then glanced at the game. “Oh, that’s sweet, Abs. Maybe later. Okay?”

  “But, Paul…” They were supposed to play Monopoly all afternoon. It was Friday; school started on Monday. Abby knew Paul would be too busy to play games with her once school started. Plus, he’s the one who asked her to have it set up when he got home.

  Paul was already halfway to his room.

  “I didn’t play your banjo,” she said softly.

  The only response she heard was the sound of her brother’s bedroom door closing.

  * * *

  While her mom puttered around the kitchen, Abby grabbed the house key from the hook and slipped outside, quiet as a turtle.

  Humidity engulfed her as she walked to the neighborhood park, which had a red-clay walking trail, a small pond, a basketball court, picnic tables, and a playground.

  Abby sat on an uncomfortable metal bench facing the pond, where she and Cat used to look for alligators and talk about important things, like where they wanted to volunteer when they were old enough (an animal shelter for Cat and the public library for Abby) and who was crush-worthy in their classes (nearly every boy for Cat and nearly no one for Abby). The last conversation they’d had on that bench was when Cat told Abby she and her mom were moving to Israel. Abby wondered if the bench was cursed.

  “Hey there, Six-Pack!”

  Abby turned, expecting to see Paul back to himself and ready to play Monopoly with her.

  It took a second for Abby’s brain to process that it wasn’t Paul walking toward the bench. It was Conrad, wearing black shorts and a red T-shirt with a basketball tucked under his arm. He was grinning, until he wasn’t. “Um, sorry. I meant Abby. Abigail?”

  Abby stared at him, wide-eyed.

  “Abs? Help me out here.”

  Abby’s internal furnace blasted heat into her cheeks. She wondered if she’d ever get better at this socializing thing, if Abby 2.0 would suddenly kick in one day and this would get easier. “Any name is fine.” I don’t want him calling me Six-Pack. That would be endlessly embarrassing. “I mean, Abby is good. Yeah, Abby. Well, whatever you want.” Shut up already! “But Abby is nice.”

  “Abby is nice.”

  The internal furnace inside Abby’s face ratcheted up approximately ten million degrees. If she stayed next to Conrad like this, she’d turn into a pile of smoldering ash.

  Conrad held out the basketball. “Want to play?”

  She pointed to herself.

  “Yeah. You ever play?”

  Abby channeled her inner Cat. Confident Cat. Abby had played basketball once in PE class and jammed her finger so badly, it hurt for a week, but Conrad didn’t need to know that. “Yup.”

  “Cool. There’s never anyone out here to shoot hoops with.”

  Abby followed Conrad to the court. She felt absolutely confident… that she’d humiliate herself.

  After one game of HORSE, during which Abby quickly received the letters H-O-R-S-E, despite Conrad obviously missing a bunch of shots on purpose, it was clear Abby had not improved since that one game in PE class. At least she didn’t injure herself this time.

  Conrad ran a hand through his sweaty brown hair. “Um, maybe we should do something else.”

  “I stink at basketball.”

  “You’re okay.”

  “No, I’m terrible.”

  Conrad kicked at the ground. “Yeah, you’re really bad. When you missed that one shot, I thought the ball would go over the fence and into the pond.”

  “Yeah, and it would probably bonk an alligator on the head.”

  Conrad smiled. “Or knock an osprey out of the sky.”

  Abby squinted up. “Or bump into a satellite.”

  They were walking toward the playground. “Or bounce around on the moon.”

  “No gravity. Those would be some big bounces,” Abby said.

  Conrad laughed, and Abby realized she was making conversation. She made him laugh. Maybe this Abby 2.0 thing might work out after all.

  “Want to swing?” Conrad asked. “There aren’t any little kids around.”

  Abby hadn’t swung in years. She and Cat used to have competitions to see who could swing higher. Cat always won. “Okay.”

  “Let’s see who can get higher,” Conrad said, pumping his legs and leaning back hard.

  Abby pumped her legs too, until she was nearly as high as he was, but she didn’t like the feeling of her stomach dropping each time she went up, so she allowed herself to slow. “How’s the view from up there?” she called, hoping to be funny.

  The sound of Conrad’s laugh made Abby feel like she’d scored a metaphorical basket.

  Conrad flew off the swing, windmilling his arms until he landed in a crouch on the wood chips.

  Abby slowed, then stopped herself with her feet and climbed off.

  When they walked home together, Conrad invited her over to his house for something to drink.

  To Cat’s house.

  Abby knew she should ask her moms first, but she also didn’t want to seem like a baby. “Is your mom home?” she asked, knowing her moms wouldn’t want her visiting Conrad without an adult there.

  Conrad checked his phone. “She should be home from work soon.”

  What would Cat do?

  “If you don’t…” Conrad started to say.

  “Sure.”

  Conrad’s face brightened. “Oh, okay. Cool.”

  He opened the red door of the avocado-green house and tossed his basketball onto the floor.

  The first thing Abby noticed was that the mezuzah was gone from the doorframe. There were two tiny holes where the nails had been. Cat’s mom must have taken down the mezuzah before they moved. She must have removed all the mezuzahs from their house before they left.

  It was strange for Abby to be in the house without Cat and her mom there. The furniture was the same, but there was a sports blanket thrown over the side of the couch. There were a couple pairs of sneakers and flip-flops in the foyer, which Ms. Wasserman never would have allowed. She liked things neat. The house even smelled different, like some stinky pine-scented air freshener instead of Ms. Wasserman’s cooking.

  “I’m going to throw on a clean T-shirt,” Conrad said. “Kitchen’s back there.”

  Abby knew where the kitchen was. She sat at the table in a swivel chair and looked for things that were different. It reminded her of the puzzles in Highlights for Children where you had to figure out what was wrong with the picture, like a skunk sitting on a dinner plate or a sneaker on a bookshelf. In the kitchen, there was a dish towel hanging on the stove that read, DINNER IS READY WHEN THE SMOKE ALARM GOES OFF; there was a bright orange blender on the counter that didn’t belong to Ms. Wasserman; and there were chili pepper lights strung around the kitchen—fun, but definitely not Cat’s mom’s taste. Abby felt like she’d entered an alternate universe in which Cat’s house wasn’t quite her house.

  “Do you drink tea?”

  Conrad had startled Abby.

  “My uncle taught me that when you’re really hot, you should drink something warm. It makes your body cool off. He’s a chef and works in hot kitchens, so he knows.”

  Abby nodded. She wanted to tell Conrad her moms worked in kitchens too—that they used to work in a fancy restaurant in the city together—but she kept quiet and took it all in.

  Conrad filled a teapot with water. “Peppermint tea okay?”

  Who was this boy?

  “Sounds good.” Abby assumed Conrad would use a tea bag,
not fresh mint leaves, like Mom Rachel used when she brewed mint tea.

  Conrad did use tea bags to make two mugs of tea that he brought to the table along with a plate of mint Milano cookies. “It’s a theme snack,” Conrad said. “Mint.”

  Abby blinked at him, wondering if this was what it was like to date a boy. The boys at school seemed so rough and gruff, always shoving one another and laughing too loud, but Conrad was thoughtful and sensitive. Would he act differently at school, or was this how he was all the time? Abby couldn’t wait to tell Cat about him. Maybe she’d even write a poem about Conrad when she got home. About the way his soft brown hair fell over one eye. About the way his warm voice sent vibrations down her spine. About his gentleness.

  Conrad sat in the swivel chair beside Abby and took a cookie. “So, do you walk to school, or does someone drive you?”

  “I walk. It’s only about a mile.” Abby nibbled the edge of her cookie to make sure she liked it. The vanilla cookie part was good, but the chocolate-mint filling was too tingly on her tongue. She swallowed it anyway and left the rest of the cookie on a napkin.

  “Do you want to walk together on Monday?”

  Abby coughed.

  “You okay?”

  She felt her face redden but managed to nod.

  The front door opened, and Abby stiffened.

  “Hey, Ma!” Conrad called. “I’m in here with Abby from next door.”

  A woman wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt walked in. Her blond hair was up in a ponytail. There were dark circles under her eyes. “Hi there, Abby.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Ms. Miller, Conrad’s mom.”

  Abby grabbed the woman’s slender hand and shook, like Mama Dee taught her. Strong grip. Firm shake. Make eye contact. The eye contact part was hard for Abby, but she did it anyway.

  “I think I saw you with your mom and brother the other day. I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by to say hello. Been pulling extra shifts at the diner, but I look forward to meeting your mom and dad.” Then she turned to Conrad. “We need to get you some school clothes, bud. School starts in three days.” She grabbed a cookie. “Mmm. My favorite.”

  “Moms,” Abby blurted.

  Ms. Miller turned back to Abby. “Huh?”

  “We’re a two-mom family.”

  “Oh, then I’m looking forward to meeting your moms.”

  Abby felt her shoulders relax.

  * * *

  At the door, when Abby was leaving, Conrad asked, “Want me to call a Lyft to take you home?”

  Abby burst out laughing. He’s funny, like Paul.

  “It’ll be a challenge,” Abby said. “But I think I can make it across the lawn to my house.”

  “Let me give you my number in case you run into trouble.”

  Abby’s whole body shivered. He wants to give me his number! Wait till I tell Cat!

  Conrad put his number into Abby’s phone. “Call me, then I’ll have yours.”

  She did.

  Conrad leaned against the wall. “See you for school Monday.”

  He looked so relaxed and comfortable. All the connections in Abby’s brain were misfiring. “Monday. School,” she managed.

  Conrad laughed. “You okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Abby held her phone for a few extra seconds before putting it into her pocket.

  * * *

  When Abby opened the door to her house, Mom Rachel was on the couch reading a cookbook. She lowered it. “Where’d you go? I finished making the fettuccine, and you weren’t here.”

  “Oh, I ended up going to the park and then over to Conrad’s house.” Abby said it like it was no big deal, but her heart knew it was a very big deal. It was her first time going over to a boy’s house… and getting his number… and they would be walking to school together Monday.

  Mom Rachel arched her eyebrows. “Over to Conrad’s house?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “It would’ve been nice if you’d told me.” Mom Rachel closed the cookbook and laid it aside. “As in, Abigail Braverman, it would have been nice if you’d asked if you could go over there. I didn’t know where you were. It’s not safe to go over to some boy’s house. We don’t know him.”

  It was Cat’s house, Abby wanted to say. “Mom, he served me mint tea and cookies. I don’t think there was anything to worry about. And it was only a few minutes before his mom was there.”

  “You went over to his house when his mom wasn’t there? Abigail!”

  “What did you think would happen?” Abby plopped onto the edge of the couch, far away from the stare her mom leveled at her. “Sorry. I’ll tell you next time.”

  “You’ll…”

  “Ask.”

  “Better.”

  Mama Dee came into the living room, drying her hair with a towel. “I had rainbow sprinkles in my hair today, icing in my left eyebrow, and chocolate smears on both elbows. It was like a rainbow unicorn cupcake exploded all over me.”

  Mom Rachel laughed.

  Mama Dee sat close to Mom Rachel and put the towel on her lap. “Now that our girl is home, can we please eat that delicious-looking dinner you made? I’m starving. Woman can’t live on unicorn cupcakes alone, you know.”

  Mom Rachel leaned over and kissed Mama Dee on the cheek. “It’s all ready.”

  When a door opened, everyone looked up.

  Paul walked into the living room. His hair was flat and greasy. His clothes looked like they’d been stuffed into the bottom of a hamper for a week, and he smelled like a mixture of campfire and body odor. “Moms?”

  “Yes?” Mom Rachel and Mama Dee said at the same time.

  Paul squeezed his hands into fists. “I need to tell you something.”

  The Beginning of Everything

  On Monday, Abby woke way before her alarm.

  Her first thoughts were of Paul. He didn’t let Abby stay and listen when he talked to the moms on Friday. And even though she left the door to her bedroom open and strained to hear, they spoke in such hushed tones, she couldn’t decipher any of their conversation, only the worried sounds of their voices.

  Abby had asked her moms what he’d said, but they’d told her it was private for right now. So Abby spent the weekend with her imagination going wild with possibilities. Did Paul catch an incurable disease at camp? Had he witnessed a crime? Was he planning to move to another state to finish high school at some fancy private school, far away from them?

  Whatever it was, the moms had been on edge all weekend. And Paul had spent a lot of time in his room with the door closed. Abby didn’t hear him playing his banjo even once. This, she knew, was not a good sign.

  Abby’s stomach squeezed with thoughts of Conrad, too. He would be coming over to her house soon, and they would be walking to school together. There were so many things that could go wrong.

  Abby pictured Conrad, his brown hair falling over one eye and the relaxed way he looked at her. Her heart thumped.

  She grabbed her journal and poured her nervous energy into a poem.

  C-O-N-R-A-D

  Cute. Cuter. Cutest.

  Offers mint tea and a quiet smile.

  Nerd?

  Radiates… gentleness and kindness.

  An eighth grader who…

  Deserves further study!

  Writing the poem took Abby’s mind off worrying, but once she put her journal away, the nervousness came back with a vengeance. She couldn’t eat breakfast. All Abby could do as she waited for Conrad to arrive was chew her fingernails and work on crocheting her endless afghan, which spilled over her lap and the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Soon it would be expanding right out the door! Abby might feel better if she at least knew what was going on with her brother, why everyone was so anxious.

  When there was a knock at the door, Abby gasped, ran to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

  Conrad tugged on his button-down short-sleeved shirt, as though he’d be more comfortable wearing a T-shirt. “Hi.”

  Abby gave a lit
tle wave and noticed one of her nail beds was bleeding. She put that hand behind her back. “Hey.”

  Conrad pushed his hair out of his eye, but it flopped back down. “You ready?”

  Abby nodded, even though that felt like a lie. She knew she’d never be ready for this. She smoothed down her new purple T-shirt with blue trim around the sleeves and neckline. First days of school had so many unexpected things to navigate, so many challenging variables to figure out. Anything could go wrong at any moment. And she didn’t have Cat to be a buffer, a bridge.

  “Mom, we’re leaving!” Abby called, expecting Mom Rachel to rush out from the kitchen to take photos, hand her a lunch packed with treats she and Mama Dee made the night before, and give her last-minute advice about being open to new experiences so she could make friends, blah, blah, blah.

  But Mom Rachel didn’t come rushing out from the kitchen. She didn’t take photos. She didn’t give her lunch or advice.

  Abby heard her mom on the phone making a doctor’s appointment for Paul, which caused Abby’s stomach to squeeze into a knot of worry. So the something wrong with Paul was medical. Maybe he did catch some scary disease at camp. Would she catch it too?

  “Ready?” Conrad asked again.

  She shook her head to pull herself out of her own worrisome thoughts. “Yup.”

  As they walked down the street, Abby took a moment to realize that even though she wasn’t walking to school with her best friend, she wasn’t alone, like she’d expected to be. She was walking beside Conrad Miller, and that felt like something surprising and good.

  Her Bubbe Marcia—Mom Rachel’s mother—sometimes said, When a door closes, a window opens. So don’t look so long at the closed door that you miss the open window. Abby never really understood what that meant, but Cat moving away this summer felt like a door slamming shut, and Conrad moving in was like a window opening… and a peppermint-scented breeze wafting through.

  Abby pulled her shoulders back and held her head high. This moment felt kind of amazing, but it would have been even better if it weren’t mixed with anxiety about the first day of school and worry for what was going on with Paul. She was determined to figure out the medical mystery, but first she had to get through the school day. And she wasn’t sure if she’d manage to get through it as Abby 2.0 or plain old Abby.