13 and Counting

by Lisa Greenwald

  “Later,” Ari replies softly, sort of gazing at him, and I groan. “Bye, Jason.”

  When he’s gone, Ari says, “Oh, sorry to spring this on you, but I have another thing we have to do this morning. My parents are in oddly good moods. My dad took the day off, and they’re just spending the day together, trying to catch up on stuff.” She pauses. “Let’s go inside and talk to them about the dog thing.”

  “Now?” I gasp. “We need to get to school.”

  “I know,” she replies. “And we will. But honestly—we can’t pass up this moment.”

  We walk back inside with our coats on, and I really think this is a terrible plan. But somehow when Ari gets something in her head, there’s no way to say no.

  “Hey, guys, can we talk for a moment?” Ari asks, sitting on the edge of the recliner. She scootches over so I can sit, too.

  “Uh, sure,” Ari’s mom replies, fumbling around for the remote in the couch cushions. She turns off the TV. “Don’t you two need to get to school?”

  We nod, and Ari says, “Yeah, this will be quick.”

  “What is it?” her dad asks, not exactly impatient sounding but not totally open to whatever we’re about to say, either.

  Ari looks from her mom to her dad and then back to her mom. She clears her throat. “So, I’m just going to cut right to the chase here.” She pauses. “We should get a dog. I’ve printed out some materials about how good it is for all of our health. We can get a rescue dog so it won’t be too expensive and we’ll be doing a mitzvah giving the dog a home. I promise to assume all responsibility but I will let Gemma help me. We won’t argue, I promise.”

  She stops talking; I think she’s trying to gauge their reactions.

  “It really is a mitzvah,” I add. “And I feel cool that I know that now. Good deed, commandment, right? Or both?”

  They laugh a little, but not as much as I expected them to.

  “Well, winter isn’t really the best time to get a dog,” her dad says. “It’ll be hard to train because it’s so cold out. I’m just not sure this is right at the moment.”

  “Mom?” Ari asks.

  “Well, I do love dogs.” Her mom smiles. “And I’ve been wondering about the right time for this. The thing is, I’m kind of with Dad on this one. Plus there’s really a lot going on right now; I’m not sure we can take on something else . . .” Her voice trails off. “Can we reevaluate in the spring?”

  Ari looks at me. Technically we have until the end of the school year to finish this list. So I guess we don’t need to have the dog right now. We do need to think of a name, though.

  “Well, can we start looking for a rescue now?” Ari asks. “It can take a while to find one that is the right fit. We just want your blessing to start the process.”

  “Kaylan needs our blessing, too?” Mr. Nodberg laughs.

  I crack up, and Ari giggles. “She does.”

  Her dad has one of those infectious laughs that makes everyone crack up along with him.

  “Why?” Now Ari’s mom is full-on cackling along with me, unable to get any more words out.

  “The list,” I say, not really thinking, and I turn to Ari. “Wait, do they know about the list? I forgot.”

  “Um.” She scrunches up her nose. “I think so?”

  “Another list?” Ari’s mom screeches. “What’s this one about?”

  “We’ll explain later.” Ari clears her throat. “But can we just have your blessing to start searching for the rescue dog?”

  Her parents look at each other. “You can start searching but we will need to clear any dog that you’re considering and we are not signing off on this one hundred percent,” her mom explains. “We’re open to it, but we will need to reevaluate in the spring before we make it official. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, it does.” I smile. “I know I don’t live here, but I will be instrumental in this dog-searching process. And I will assume some of the responsibility as well. I’ll basically be an honorary dog parent.”

  “Sounds good, Kaylan,” Ari’s dad says, smiling and looking at me sideways. “Also, Bubbie seems to be ready for visitors now. If you’d like to check in on her after school, that would be great since I have a late meeting tonight and Mom is taking Gemma to the dentist.”

  “Yes! We can totally do that,” Ari says, looking at me.

  We high-five and go back outside to walk to school.

  “Success!” She fist-bumps me. “On the dog thing.”

  “On the path to success,” I say. “But still a win. And also, amaze that your bubbie is ready for visitors! I can def go with you after school today.”

  “Fab.” She looks at her watch. “All of this amazingness before eight in the morning. Now onto infused water. Ooh! We can make some for Bubbie today.”

  “Yes! By the way, I already have a page of notes in my phone with different varieties,” I tell her. “I made this one the other night: kiwi, lemon, mango. What do you think?”

  Ari nods. “Delish. And what do you think about strawberry, pineapple, lime?”

  “Ooh, I can’t wait to try that one.”

  We go back and forth, coming up with flavors the whole walk to school. It goes so fast, and I don’t even feel the cold.

  I think that’s the secret to getting through hard, freezing, less-than-ideal times: surround yourself with a BFF and come up with stuff to do.

  You’ll barely even notice the tough parts.

  14

  ARI

  KAYLAN AND I TAKE THE bus home, and then we go over to Bubbie and Zeyda’s. Their new apartment is so close that it feels like a dream. All those years with them living so far away—a plane flight and then a rental car—and now I can literally walk to their house.

  “Did you know that turtles yawn?” Kaylan asks me, pulling her hood tighter around her head.

  “No, I didn’t.” I laugh a little.

  “The eighth-grade turtle loan thing is so cool. I hope I can do it next year, too.”

  I shake my head. “They yawn? For real? Is turtle existence so exhausting that they need to yawn? I mean, what do they even do all day?” What kind of meaning does a turtle have in its life—all day in a tank, alone. It fills me with gloom.

  “They yawn. That’s all I know so far.”

  We walk on a little farther and soon we’re at their development.

  “I love this place. It reminds me of a little village.”

  “Did you know they even have an ice cream parlor?” I ask her. “How cute is that?”

  Kaylan thinks, almost lost in thought for a moment. “Let’s live here when we’re old, okay? We can have apartments right next door to each other and it’ll be amazing.” She takes her puffy-gloved hand and links with mine.

  “Deal. But does Cami have to live here, too?” I roll my eyes, mostly joking.

  She unclasps her hand and swats me. “Stop.”

  We run up to their front door, wipe our feet on the little lion doormat, and ring the doorbell.

  “Hiiiii,” I sing as we walk in. “Your favorite granddaughter is here.”

  Kaylan whispers, “What about Gemma?”

  I roll my eyes. “What about her? I’m clearly the favorite.”

  Kaylan shrugs and whispers, “Whatever you say.”

  “We’re in the den,” Zeyda yells, but it wouldn’t have been so hard for me to figure that one out. There are only three rooms—the living room, den, and bedroom. Plus the kitchen and two bathrooms.

  We pass their blue velvety living room couch and I breathe in their soapy-soupy apartment smell. How is it possible that home smells transfer from one place to another? They’re literally living in a different state now and yet their new place still smells like their old one—a combination of soup and soap.

  We walk back to the den and find Bubbie in one burgundy recliner and Zeyda in the other burgundy recliner and it’s the happiest thing I’ve ever seen—like a cookies-and-cream ice cream sundae with a trip to Disney World on top. That level
of happiness. I pictured this so many times in my head—the two of them back at home together, side by side on their recliners.

  The reality of it is even better than I imagined.

  “Oh, I am so happy to see you at home, Bub.” I run over and squeeze her tight, breathing in her laundry detergent Bubbie smell.

  “You’re happy. I’m happy. We’re all happy.” She smiles in a tired sort of way. “Hello, Kaylan. So nice of you to visit me again. How are you?”

  “I’m good. I’m definitely on the path to becoming an honorary Nodberg granddaughter.” Kaylan sits on the seat of one of the walkers and looks through the big sliding-door window. “It’s so cloudy and gray out there.”

  I think people start to talk about the weather when they can’t think of anything else to talk about. But I also think it’s okay. The weather unites all of us. It’s a subject on which we can all form an opinion. And people never really seem to get bored talking about it.

  “And cold! Miserable,” Zeyda says. “I’m a summer person.”

  I reply, “Me too.”

  “Me three.” Kaylan laughs.

  “I enjoy every season,” Bubbie adds, her eyes closed, but clearly paying attention. “But when it’s this cold, we don’t stick our noses out!”

  We sit there for a little while longer and I try to figure out how Bubbie seems. Normal, I think. Just a more tired version of her usual self. She’s joking and laughing and she has color in her cheeks.

  If I didn’t know, I would never guess she just spent time in the hospital.

  And the best thing of all: no more oxygen cords in her nose.

  “So what can we do for you?” I ask. “Put us to work!”

  “Yeah, can we get you anything to drink?” Kaylan asks. “I make a great instant hot chocolate.”

  “She does,” I add.

  “I think we’re okay for now, dolls. You being here is all we need,” Bubbie says.

  Zeyda switches between the channels—watching news shows and a golf tournament and some football game, though I couldn’t even tell you what teams are playing and I don’t really care.

  “You’re all recovered from the bat mitzvah, Ari?” Bubbie asks. She’s asked me this so many times already and I’m not sure if she forgets that she’s brought it up before, or that it was already a few months ago, or if she thinks there’s more to the conversation. Either way, I don’t mind. I just like hearing her voice and talking to her.

  “I think so.” I shrug. “I’m just so happy to be done with the thank-you notes. So there’s that.”

  “I’m kind of glad I’m not Jewish,” Kaylan adds. “I wouldn’t be able to write that many thank-you notes. At least for my wedding, I’ll have another person who will be able to help me do them.”

  “Very true,” Bubbie replies. “Zeyda didn’t help with thank-you notes, though. At least I don’t think he did.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Your handwriting is better than mine. But not by much.”

  “What about your sweet sixteen, Kay?” I ask. “I totally wanted to help you pick out a dress, and get our hair done together. I’d get a candle during the candle lighting. . . .”

  “Nope. Skipping it. All to avoid the thank-you notes!” Bubbie and Zeyda start laughing and Kaylan pulls me into a sideways hug.

  “She’s funny,” Bubbie adds.

  I whisper to Kaylan that we should go make them the fruit water, and she hops up, and we walk into the kitchen.

  “I don’t know what fruit they have,” I say, leaning into the fridge. “Ooh, some apples . . . some blueberries . . . and I think that’s it!”

  “Perfect!” Kaylan reaches a high cabinet and grabs a pitcher, and I fill it with ice and filtered water. We cut up an apple and throw in some blueberries, and perfecto!

  “Oh, cups.” Kaylan raises a finger in the air. She grabs two tall glasses from the cabinet and we bring everything back to the den.

  “What is this?” Bubbie asks. “Are we at a spa?” She widens her eyes, a crooked smile forming on her lips.

  “You are, dahling,” I say.

  “What treatment!” Zeyda pours Bubbie a cup of apple-blueberry water and then pours one for himself.

  “You guys want to move in?” he asks after a sip. “This is delicious!”

  We all start laughing and Kaylan leans over toward me and whispers in my ear, “They’re the coolest.”

  Somewhere along the way, Kaylan switched from friend BFF to sister BFF.

  Maybe we will end up in side-by-side apartments in Woodbury Cove one day.

  15

  KAYLAN

  “VACATION, ALL I’VE EVER WANTED . . . ,” Cami sings into the phone the following week. It’s early morning, before school starts, and I’m a little freaked that she called me this early. “Wooooooo-hooooo!”

  “This is for real happening, so soon,” I reply, stating the obvious.

  “I know,” she squeals. “Aren’t you so happy that my parents said that since Jane and Lou brought friends last year, I could bring one this year, and I picked you?” She talks super speedily. “I could’ve picked June but she’s been such a downer lately. Hasn’t she?”

  I pause to think. Cami seems to find fault with everyone at the lunch table; I’m not sure why. “Um, I don’t think so. But I’m so glad you picked me.”

  So glad is an understatement. I’m picturing white sand beaches, fancy dinners with sparkling water in wineglasses, amazing sunsets. Quality time with Cami and her family, and a chance to really be on my own.

  Ari got to go to camp and be her own, different, exciting self there. I never got that.

  This is my time. I need to seize the moment.

  Plus I need to practice being away from home, before I really am away for a while, all on my own, for comedy camp.

  “Kaylan, for real, we are going to have the best time ever.” She pauses for emphasis. “This one time when my other cousin, Tara, on my mom’s side, anyway, she brought her BFF Amelia on vacation and they literally had the sickest time. They were out until like two a.m. every night, and it was fine, and they could just do whatever they wanted.” She pauses again. “That will be us!”

  “Two a.m.? Really?”

  “Yes! We can go out wherever, because we’re, like, on a resort and it’s totally safe but they still have all these restaurants and clubs and stuff. I mean, it’ll be like spring break like for college students but for us!”

  I start to wonder how Cami knows so much about all of this—spring break and clubs and everything. She does have older sisters but it’s still odd; they’re only in high school.

  She’s always dreaming about being older.

  Cami groans in her annoyed way. “Hello! Are you there?”

  “Yes, hi. Totally here. Just freaking out about the awesomeness, Cam,” I reassure her. “I feel like my mom needs to know more about the logistics. She keeps asking me questions, and I don’t know the answers. Ack! Tell me what to do next. I’m feeling overwhelmed with excitement.”

  I don’t want to admit that agita levels are pretty high about the dad visit happening at the same time.

  My first instinct is to call Ari and talk through all of it with her and make a game plan and everything, but that feels like old Kaylan business and I truly feel like I’m more evolved now. I can do this on my own.

  “Okay, so my mom and I are having a sushi date tonight—just the two of us. Why don’t you and your mom come, too, and we can discuss all the deets,” Cami suggests. “It’ll be fab. Plus everything is better over sushi. Don’t you agree?”

  I laugh a little. Cami is so over the top she almost doesn’t feel like a real person sometimes, but I guess that’s one of the things I love about her. “I agree. Yes.”

  “It’s a date, then. Hibino at seven?”

  “Let’s say six thirty, if that’s okay. My mom likes to eat early.”

  “Fine. Done. I’ll alert the mothership.” She laughs at herself. “See you later, dahling.”


  “Later, Cams.”

  I hang up the phone and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. It’s a good thing—an all-expenses-paid trip to this fancy resort. And everyone knows Cami’s like a billionaire so it’s not like I need to feel bad about them spending the money. But missing this weird dad visit? I have a little slimy guilt slithering around in my chest. Ryan dealing with it alone? My mom having to shoulder whatever happens? That feels depressing.

  It’s impossible to know the right thing to do in these situations. Because even if you’re doing something super fun for yourself—you’re picturing others feeling depressed and lonely because of your decision. I wonder if that ultimately makes it the wrong thing to do. I wonder if there’s ever a set of rules for deciding when to think about yourself and when to think about others. Like maybe I could find a checklist online or something.

  I flop back onto my bed and look at the clock on my night table to see how much time I have before I need to head to school. Exactly seven minutes. Good. I need to brush my hair, get dressed, grab a granola bar, and tell my mom about the sushi date.

  I guess that means I need to get out of bed.

  Like, now.

  I brush my teeth and throw on my comfiest pair of jeans and my gray crewneck. I’m brushing my hair when my mom yells from the bottom of the staircase. “Kaylan, come down now if you want a ride. Otherwise you’re on the bus. Chip chop . . . What’s going on up there?”

  I take one final look in the mirror and smooth the sides of my hair. “Coming!”

  When I get to the kitchen, my mom hands me a breakfast bar and my coat and tells me to hurry. Sometimes I wonder if it’s really such a great thing to get a ride to school. I’m rushing either way, but when I take the bus, there’s no one telling me to hustle. It’s all on me.

  “So this vacation with Cami is coming up really soon,” I start as soon as we’re in the car with buckled seat belts. “You never said how you really feel about it.”