“The decorations are removable,” I explain. “I thought they would be right for a disco queen, but I can take them off.”
“Take them off,” she echoes.
I let out a jagged breath. Tears well in my eyes. I thought I could do this one thing right. I knew a wheelchair would be helpful, but I wanted to make it special. I thought she’d love it, but I was wrong. What else is new?
My shoulders slump. “Okay. I’ll take them all off. You can still use the wheelchair if you want. I thought you might like it.”
Gloria shakes her head as if to clear it. “I don’t like it, my darling girl. I love it.”
Darling girl? I wonder if I need to clean out my ears. But by the smile on her face, she means it. Dad looks proud. Albert and Paul beam. Baby Fabian chortles, kicking his legs with glee.
Gloria takes a seat, and Albert spins her around the driveway.
I guess even unlucky stars shine sometimes.
PART FIVE
From the Collected Drawings of Annie P. Logan
Dimensions: 8.5" × 11" (graph paper)
CHAPTER
32
With a lot of waving (unexpectedly, Fabian has turned into a champion waver), Dad and I leave Gloria’s and head back through downtown.
“We better take your truck over to the barn,” I say.
Dad winces. “Sorry, Annie. I know the float didn’t come together. I’ve been so preoccupied with the store not doing well—and planning for the festival took up a lot more time than I thought it would.”
I shake my head. “It’s no problem, Dad. I handled it.”
Dad raises his eyebrows. “Yourself?”
I shrug. “I had some help from Faith and JoJo. And from Tyler, a little.”
Dad grins. “Full of surprises today, huh?” His smile feels as warm as the sun.
“I’m glad you’re getting to be friends with Faith,” he says as we pull into the barn.
“Me too,” I say. “Are you … um … getting to be friends with her aunt Louise?”
After the words are out, I regret them. I’m not ready to talk to Dad about this.
Dad shuts off the engine. His cheeks are red. “I was meaning to talk to you and your brother about that—”
“There’s Faith!” I say. I hop out of the car and slam the door.
She runs to me, squealing.
“My mom is getting out of the hospital this week,” she says. “It could be as early as Monday!”
“Yay!” I shout, and we’re jumping up and down and yelling and Faith is crying a little bit, too.
It was hard deciding which float to ride on. I worked on so many and each is special in its own way. But when JoJo mentioned that their float needed helpers to throw root beer candy into the crowd, Faith and I signed up right away.
JoJo hands us each a bulging paper sack. “Throw them into the crowd by the handful. There’s more tucked away under the table, so don’t be shy. And you two sample as much as you want. Don’t come back with any candy, you hear? I want it all gone!”
Faith and I giggle as we each unwrap a candy. It’s hard to argue with JoJo.
Before we know it, the floats are all in a line and ready to go. The parade is about to begin.
“It’s time to do this,” The Earl says from behind the wheel of his pickup. “Ready?”
“Ready!” we answer.
The Earl salutes us as we climb aboard. I’ve stood on every float in this barn and know them all inside and out. I could tell you which float is the most solid (JoJo & The Earl’s) and which one is being held together on the inside with duct tape (the town council’s). I could tell you which one is prettiest (Lulu’s) and which is most detailed (Quinn’s Market’s). But my favorite is Logan & Son’s. Maybe because it’s a little bit like Dad and Ray and also a little bit like me.
At first, it’s strange how slow the floats are traveling. It almost feels as if we’re barely moving at all. But as we reach the crowds, the pace feels just right. I see faces I know and faces I don’t know. I see young people and old people. Families with little kids and grandparents with grandchildren. I see hair of every color, faces of every skin tone, and bodies of all different shapes and sizes.
The little kids clap and laugh when they see the Binky Bunnies costumed characters riding on the Oak Branch Books float. And everyone screams when they realize that Tyler and Grant are riding the town council float, carrying water blasters and soaking the crowd.
Little kids ooh and aah when they see the dry ice floating from the coffee mug. And everyone cheers when they realize Faith and I are throwing candy.
Faith leans toward me. “Too bad we aren’t throwing muffins.”
I just laugh.
It’s weird—I used to see myself as all alone. I used to think no one understood me. But up here, the perspective is different. Somehow, I see it all more clearly.
The floats have their stories and so do the people who made them. And every nail I hammered and tissue paper I glued meant that I became part of these stories as well.
This festival may have started out as a way to show Oak Branch is better than Mountain Ring. Maybe we are; maybe we aren’t. We are duct tape and water blasters, a steaming mug of tea, and a hardware store my grandpa built. We are pink and yellow moths, a whole pile of glitter and glue, and a barbecue restaurant that grew from true love.
We are Oak Branch. We may have the bad luck of living near fancy Mountain Ring, but we also have the good luck of being ourselves. The good luck of the best mountain views. Of food made from kindhearted people. Of bookstores lined with incredible stories. And the good luck of the best hardware store that ever was, is, or will be. Maybe the good luck we have is enough.
CHAPTER
33
After the floats are set up on the grass around the band shell and all the vehicles have left the area, the festival officially opens. Faith’s working the first shift at the Lulu’s booth, so we make plans to meet up after.
The food all looks and smells amazing. I’m already deciding if I want pulled pork from JoJo & The Earl’s or a hot dog with all the fixings from H. Diggity.
I’m wandering around from booth to booth. I wasn’t part of this planning, so I didn’t understand how many fun things there would be. There’s rosy maple moth face painting at the insurance booth. There are stuffed animals so kids can do pretend dental exams. And a dunk tank set up at the town council booth.
There’s even a booth for Logan & Son with a big crowd of kids wearing safety glasses. I look closer and realize it’s a maker space—what Ray described back when we were painting the band shell. It’s stocked with pieces of scrap wood and plenty of tools. Ray is helping a kid glue something to his project. He catches my eye and looks away.
We may be in a fight and he may hate my guts, but he’s still my brother.
“This is amazing,” I tell him. “Did you plan all this?”
Instead of his usual one-sided smile, he grins all the way across. “I want to show everyone that Logan and Son can design and build these for houses and businesses. I was at Tyler’s last week, and Mayor Barnes said they wanted to add something to draw people to the library. I told him my idea for the maker space. It’s going to show people that we aren’t just a regular hardware store.”
I look at the kids. They’re all having a blast hammering and sawing alongside their parents.
“You’re good at this,” I say. I mean it.
“Thanks,” he says. “Mayor Barnes said some nearby towns might want the same thing, so I’m hoping we can expand it.”
It’s weird. Usually this would make me feel jealous of Ray. I’d think about how perfect he is and how all the good stuff happens to him. But today, I just feel happy.
“That’s part of what Dad and I have been talking about so much,” he says. “We weren’t trying to leave you out.”
“Listen,” I say. “I’m sorry about before.”
Ray looks sheepish. “Me too.”
When
I hear this, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I shouldn’t have been rude to people trying to help,” I say.
“I shouldn’t have said you were selfish,” Ray answers.
I don’t want to tell him he may have had a point, so instead I shrug.
“It’s something I’m working on,” I say.
He nods, and I think he understands.
Coming up the aisle are Albert, Paul, baby Fabian, and, of course, Gloria. Her wheelchair sparkles in the sun. She beams up at me.
“Are you all having fun at the festival?” I ask.
Albert bounces Fabian. “Absolutely.”
“We’re heading to Oak Branch Books,” says Paul. “Want to join us?”
Gloria sighs dramatically. “Heaven knows that baby needs to see his Dinky Doodads. Not that he’ll ever remember it.”
“Binky Bunnies,” Paul corrects her.
I wonder if Gloria mixed up the name by accident, but then she winks at me.
“Hmph,” she says. “Pish.”
“I have an idea.” Albert speaks in a careful tone. “Annie could take you around a bit, Aunt Gloria, and maybe we could all meet up after Fabian has his Binky Bunny time.”
I’m already nodding, and Gloria doesn’t argue—from her, that’s the equivalent of shouting, “Hooray!”
I wheel Gloria past the different booths.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Too early,” she says.
“Thirsty?”
“Not really.”
I pause. “Want to get your face painted like a rosy maple moth?”
She gives me a withering look. I try not to laugh.
“Well, hello there!”
I look up and find myself staring right into the eyes of my social studies teacher, who is carrying a giant plush moth.
I gulp. “Hello, Ms. Palumbo.”
Ms. Palumbo looks from Gloria to me and then back to Gloria. I don’t know what’s swaying more—her earrings or the moth’s antennae.
Ms. Palumbo beams. “I’m guessing you’re Annie’s mentor. She told us all about you, but I’m sorry, I don’t quite remember your name. It had to do with … potatoes?”
I hold my breath. Gloria scowls at Ms. Palumbo, a sour look on her face. “Gloria Crumb.”
Ms. Palumbo makes a fluttering motion with her fingers. “Now it’s coming back to me. Franco-Hungarian, was it?”
I clear my throat. “Dutch-Romanian, right, Gloria?”
There’s a long moment where Gloria squints at me. I waggle my eyebrows, which is the universal sign for “please agree with whatever I say.”
“Something like that,” she says eventually. “Except I’m not anyone’s mentor.”
Ms. Palumbo’s eyebrows arch. “But it’s so lovely that you’ve taken Annie under your wing, right at her time of blossoming.”
Gloria opens her mouth, then snaps it shut. Sweat trickles down my neck.
“You mustn’t sell yourself short, Mrs. Crumb.”
I wait for Gloria to argue. About being my mentor. About being called Mrs. Crumb. About the word “blossoming,” which, frankly, I wouldn’t blame her for doing.
Gloria opens her mouth, and I brace myself.
“Annie is a delight. I’m proud to have her under my wing. Even if it’s a broken wing at the moment,” she says, indicating her cast.
I’m in shock.
Ms. Palumbo is eating it up. Gloria grins, agreeing with everything Ms. Palumbo says.
And when my social studies teacher finally walks away, Gloria clutches my arm. Then she begins to laugh. She gasps and snorts and turns bright red. I begin to worry that she might slide right out of her chair. But eventually she stops.
“Annie girl,” she wheezes. “You should have seen your face. Blossoming! Who even says that?”
I laugh. “A mealymouthed sycophant, that’s who.”
Gloria shakes her head. “Your Ms. Palumbo is a real piece of work.”
“She means well,” I say. “I think.”
Gloria’s eyes twinkle. “Now you really owe me.”
“I do?”
Gloria nods. “The whole story, start to finish.”
So we find a table, and I tell her everything. But first I buy us two iced teas—not too bitter, not too sweet. But just right.
CHAPTER
34
The sunset is spectacular—bands of pink and yellow streak across the sky. With perfect timing, the evening is cooling down right in time for the dance party.
“The sky matches the rosy maple moths,” Faith says.
Grant bumps her arm. “Did you know that a group of moths is called an eclipse?”
She catches my eye and grins, then turns back to him. I know she’s hoping to dance with him tonight. I hope that for her, too.
I check my drawstring backpack for the hundredth time, but it’s right on my back like it’s been all day. I have everything I need.
“Uh, Annie?” Tyler asks, voice cracking. “Can we go over the plan again?”
I look at him. He’s about three shades paler than usual and seems quieter, too. He keeps wiping his sweaty hands on his shorts. His first big gig as a DJ and he doesn’t want to mess up.
“Tell me about the whole playlist if you want,” I say, and he looks relieved.
He pulls out his phone and launches into a long explanation as to why he picked the songs he did. I just nod and say “oh?” every so often.
Finally, the sky is dark. It’s time. Tyler heads over to the stage. I make my way over to Gloria, who is in her wheelchair next to Albert, Paul, and Fabian. By the time I reach her, Tyler’s dad has the microphone and is welcoming everyone to the dance party.
“In a little bit, we’ll announce the winners for most creative float and booth,” says Mayor Barnes. “But now it’s time to dance!”
There’s scattered applause, and then Tyler starts to play the music. I lean down to talk to Gloria.
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
She frowns. “Ready for what?”
But then she hears it. We all do. The heavy, pulsating beat of a disco song thumps through the air.
Tyler talks smoothly into the microphone, all traces of nervousness gone. “We have a very special guest tonight. You might even say … she’s royalty.”
The crowd murmurs, glancing around.
“Everybody,” Tyler continues, “please put your hands together for the queen of the roller disco herself, Ms. Gloria Crumb!” And with that, he hits the button for the disco ball, and it starts to spin.
“That’s our cue, Gloria!” I push her chair onto the floor and spin her. Everyone claps and cheers, then comes out on the dance floor. Tyler found a perfect first song.
Albert and Paul join us. Fabian’s in the front carrier on Paul’s chest, kicking his sturdy legs and wearing a small pair of noise-canceling headphones. Faith and Grant find their way over to us, and Grant is moonwalking, which isn’t even from the right era, but nobody cares. Ray is here, too—as it turns out, he is not a terrible dancer. I had no idea.
Of course, the star of the night is the queen of roller disco herself, Gloria Crumb. Even in a wheelchair with a broken arm, she shimmies and wiggles, managing to dance up a storm. We all take turns with her wheelchair. Her eyes are bright and shining.
I spin around and catch sight of Dad trying to twirl Louise. I’m not going to lie: there’s a pull in my chest that hurts. But after a while, it fades some. I shake my head slowly, turning back to the group. Dad is going to need to polish those moves. He’s a little rusty.
Albert and Paul take turns holding Fabian, and I even hold him once so they can dance together. Of course Fabian grabs a handful of my hair and pulls as hard as he can. That baby has it out for me, but some babies are like that. I like him anyway.
We dance for an hour or more. Alicia, Nailah, and Emily are here. JoJo and The Earl, too. Even Ms. Palumbo, her earrings shaking to the music. The whole time, the light from the
disco ball spins around us like we’re surrounded by stars.
Eventually, the songs slow and the music fades.
“Hello, hello, hello,” Tyler says into the microphone in a much deeper voice than usual. I can see his grin from here. He’s absolutely loving being a DJ. “Everyone, please put your hands together to welcome JoJo McCoy to the stage. Not only does she make the most legendary pies of all time, today she has some very special announcements you won’t want to miss.”
JoJo walks onto the stage, holding several envelopes. She’s beaming. “Thank you, Tyler! Welcome, everyone, to the first annual Rosy Maple Moth Festival in good old Oak Branch. We hope you’re having a nice time in our little town.”
The crowd roars, everyone stomping their feet.
“Now,” she says. “We’ll get back to dancing in a minute, but first we have some recognizing to do. I’ll make it quick. For the most creative float, the prize goes to … the town council for their interactive waterfall!”
Mayor Barnes comes onstage to take the certificate. He jokes like he’s going to take the microphone again, but JoJo pulls it out of reach. If Mayor Barnes starts talking, we could be here all night.
“For the booths, the most creative award goes to … Logan and Son!”
Ray’s head jerks up in surprise.
I cheer and stomp my feet. “Go, Ray! You did great.”
He smooths his shirt and goes onto the stage, allowing himself a smile when JoJo hands him the certificate.
“We have one more note of recognition for this evening,” she says.
I watch Fabian, whose eyelids are starting to droop. It’s a late night for a little baby. Paul leans down and pretends to nibble Fabian’s cheek, and Fabian pats Paul’s hand lazily.
“This is for an individual who has truly gone above and beyond,” JoJo says. “The words that come to mind are ‘helpful,’ ‘community service,’ ‘compassion.’ The spirit of volunteerism.”
Gloria is pretending to play peekaboo with Fabian. He looks at her warily.
“We’re truly proud of this young person, who has spent her entire summer volunteering.”
These Unlucky Stars Page 14