Amber Brown Is Tickled Pink

by Paula Danziger

  Dad’s smile vanishes. He turns away and looks out at the park.

  This makes me even madder.

  “Dad, say something!”

  He turns back, and his face is really, really sad. “I blew it,” he says. “My counselor told me to make this weekend all about you and me, and not to talk about your mother and Max at all. And I was trying hard to do that. We’ve had such a wonderful weekend, and now I’ve messed up again. I’m sorry, Amber. I’m having a tough time with your mom getting remarried, and sometimes I say things I shouldn’t.”

  Now it’s my turn not to want to talk. I’ve been so wrapped up in Mom and Max’s wedding, I guess I didn’t want to think about how it made Dad feel.

  Then there’s what I just let him do at the dress shop. I know that I messed up too. I start to cry.

  Dad puts his arm around me. He looks almost scared. “Amber, honey, what is it? I know I upset you, but it’s not that bad, is it?”

  I shake my head. Then I take a deep breath. “We have to take the dress back.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted it so I could wear it at the wedding. But I was afraid you wouldn’t buy it for me if I told you. That wasn’t fair. It would be wrong for me to wear the dress that you got for me to Mom’s wedding.”

  Dad squeezes my shoulder. “There’s no need to take the dress back, honey.”

  “Why not?”

  “I knew why you wanted it when I bought it for you.”

  “And you got it anyway?” I am amazed.

  “I care a lot more about you than I do about that wedding. I want you to feel good while you’re there. And I’m glad that you’ll be wearing something that reminds you of me.”

  I snuggle next to Dad.

  He squeezes me closer.

  I sigh.

  He sighs.

  We hear what sounds like a giant sigh from somewhere ahead of us. Max, the horse, has lifted his tail.

  I didn’t realize that horses can poop and walk at the same time. It’s quite a talent, even if they have to slow down to do it.

  I can’t help it. I start giggling. I look at Dad and I can see that he is biting his lips to hold in a laugh.

  “It’s okay.” I pat his arm. “That was funny.”

  The laugh explodes out of him.

  We settle back against the seat.

  “I know I’m not a perfect dad, Amber. But I’m trying.”

  “You don’t have to be perfect,” I say. “Just be my dad.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Did you have fun?” Mom asks when I come through the door.

  She almost looks like she hopes I will say no.

  “I had a great time.”

  I feel like I should not sound too happy.

  “What’s in the shopping bag?”

  I get a bad feeling. I thought she’d be excited that we could cross “Get Amber’s Dress” off her list of things that have to be done. Now I’m not so sure.

  “It’s a dress. THE dress. The one I want to wear to the wedding.”

  Her mouth gets tight around the corners.

  “Where did you get it?” She eyes the pink-and-gold box.

  “Dad bought it for me at a shop at the Plaza. We were staying there.”

  “How much did it cost?”

  I don’t like her voice.

  “I don’t know. You taught me it isn’t polite to ask how much a present costs.”

  “Well, if he bought it at the Plaza, it must have cost a bundle. Does he know you’re planning to wear it to the wedding?”

  I, Amber Brown, thought my dress problems were over . . . . now I know that I was wrong.

  “Yes. He knows.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s just like your father. He buys you a dress he knows I can’t afford. Mister Moneybags with his bonus and his red sports car and his take-my-daughter-to-the-Plaza weekends. He knows that if you wear that dress at the wedding, every time I look at you, I’ll think of him. I don’t want that, Amber. I don’t want him to be part of this day. It’s about the future, not the past.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t want to have to look at me either,” I shout. “I’m part of your past!”

  I grab the bag and run up to my room. I slam my door.

  I hear my mom on the stairs. “Amber!” she shouts.

  “Don’t come in!” I warn her. “I mean it!”

  “Amber, we have to talk.”

  “Not now!”

  I stand still for a second. I don’t hear anything. I can’t tell if she’s still standing at the door or if she’s gone to her own room. Right now I don’t care. I’m just glad she’s not coming in.

  I pick up my gorilla. Dad won him for me at the town fair back when he and Mom were still together. I have had many long conversations with Gorilla, usually when I am upset. He is a very good listener . . . . . even if he never answers.

  “It’s getting worse.”

  Gorilla probably wonders what I mean.

  “Now that Mom and Max are getting married, I thought she would stop getting so mad about Dad all the time. Every time it happens, I feel split in two. Now I can see that it will never stop, maybe not ever ever.”

  Gorilla just looks at me. Maybe if you’re a gorilla who gets to hang out on my bed all day, you don’t think about feeling split in two.

  Mom knocks on my door again. “Amber, can we talk now?”

  I get up and open the door. “Are you going to be nice?”

  “I’ll try.”

  I let her into my room. We both sit on the bed. The box with my dress in it is between us.

  “I don’t even know why we both got so upset so fast.” She smiles a little, but it’s a kind of sad smile. “It’s a funny thing about weddings, Amber. People tend to get a little crazy while they’re planning them. Having a meltdown is almost part of the process.”

  “Why? It’s supposed to be a happy day.”

  “That’s part of the problem . . . . . you want everything to be so perfect. There are so many details to take care of and so many people to make happy and it all just gets too hard sometimes.”

  “I’m not ‘people.’ I’m me, Amber Brown. Your only child.”

  Mom sighs. “That’s another part of the problem, a big one. It’s not strangers we get mad at. It’s the people closest to us.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “We’re a weird species. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “The last couple of weeks have made that pretty clear.”

  Mom glances at the box. “I’m sorry, Amber. I just don’t want you wearing a dress that will remind me of him on my and Max’s big day.”

  I get up and stand in front of her. “Mom, look at me.”

  She seems surprised.

  I put my hands on her cheeks, pretending I am the mother and she is the kid. “Now you listen to me, Sarah Thompson.”

  I almost say “Sarah Brown,” but I catch myself.

  “I am your daughter. I’m also Dad’s daughter. You said you don’t want anything at the wedding to remind you of Dad. But what about me? When you look at me, you will be seeing part of him no matter what I’m wearing.”

  We both look at the dress box.

  “Mom, Dad did NOT buy this dress to bug you. He bought it because I fell in love with it and because it looks great on me!”

  She takes a deep breath. “All right.” She reaches for the package. “Let me see it.”

  “No!” I say. “Don’t open it. I want you to see it on me. Go downstairs and I’ll come and model it for you.”

  Mom kisses me on the top of my head and leaves the room.

  I take the dress out of the box . . . it’s just as beautiful as I remembered. I put it on. At the top
of the stairs I shout, “Cover your eyes!”

  I walk down the stairs and stand in front of Mom. “Okay, you can look now.”

  Mom puts down her hands. Suddenly her eyes fill with tears.

  “Please don’t be unhappy about it. I love this dress. Don’t you think it looks good on me?”

  “Honey, it looks beautiful on you.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because you look so grown up. Moms always cry a little bit about their children growing up.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Justin is here! Justin is here! Justin is here!

  Well, not exactly here. But almost. Mr. Daniels just called to say that they’re getting off the turnpike and are only a few minutes away.

  I run outside and stand in the driveway so I will be three seconds closer.

  Mom comes out and puts her hands on my shoulders. “I can’t wait to hold that new baby! It seems like ages since we went down to visit last October.”

  I think about that and how much things have changed since then. In October, Mom was still trying to decide whether to marry Max. That was why we went to Alabama . . . . . she wanted to talk to Mrs. Daniels about it in person.

  Besides Aunt Pam, Justin’s mom is the person my mother trusts the most.

  Now the wedding is only a couple of days away. I’m finally going to see Justin again. The last time I saw him, he had gotten taller. Since then I’ve had a growth spurt too. I wonder what else might have changed while I wasn’t looking?

  Suddenly we hear a voice cry, “Yodel-hey-de-hoo!”

  A green car turns into the drive-way . . . . . and keeps coming. I realize that’s because it’s hauling a camper-trailer behind it.

  The instant the car stops, Justin leaps out from the backseat. “Amber!”

  He runs toward me.

  “Justin!”

  I start toward him.

  We stop. For a minute it seemed as if we were going to hug. That would be really weird . . . . . even though it’s what the grown-ups are doing.

  We stare at each other. I’m trying to see if Justin has changed. I can’t spot anything . . . . at least nothing big. He hasn’t grown a new ear or anything like that. But his hair is longer, and he is so tan that I suddenly feel very pale.

  “Yodel-hey-de-hoo,” he calls, sounding like his father.

  “What the heck is that supposed to be?”

  “Yodeling!” Justin says proudly. “Dad taught me and Danny how to yodel on the way up.”

  “One thousand miles.” Mrs. Daniels sighs. “One thousand long, ear-battering miles. But believe it or not, baby Paula seems to think it’s a lullaby. So does Danny. They’re both sleeping right now.”

  “I want to see her!” Mom exclaims.

  Mrs. Daniels goes to the car and comes back holding baby Paula.

  “I want to see her too!” I cry, squeezing between Mom and Justin.

  Justin makes a face. “Everyone makes such a fuss over babies.” But he can’t keep from smiling.

  I can tell that he’s going to be a really good big brother to her.

  Mrs. Daniels hands the baby to Mom. Mom cradles baby Paula in her arms. She smiles at me. It is one of the happiest smiles I have ever seen. Suddenly I realize that in a year or two, I might be a big sister.

  The idea is a little scary. Before I can think about it too much, Mr. Daniels calls for me and Justin to help him unpack.

  We unpack and unpack and unpack. I look at the pile of stuff on the driveway. “I can’t believe how much you guys crammed into this car.”

  “And you haven’t even seen what’s in the camper yet,” Justin says.

  Mr. Daniels laughs. “I think my great-great-grandfather had less stuff in his covered wagon when he crossed the prairie than we needed for one baby, one four-year-old, and what Justin’s mom wanted to bring for the wedding.” He pulls out a little suitcase. “Justin’s and my stuff is all in here.”

  We get everything into the house, including Danny, who looks groggy and sticky.

  “Want to visit our chewing gum ball?” I ask Justin.

  “Is it much bigger?”

  “The bigger it gets, the slower it grows. I think it misses you. I don’t chew gum so much now that you’re not here.”

  “Neither do I,” Justin says. He smacks his forehead. “Oh, no! Does that mean we’re growing up?”

  I laugh. We go upstairs to my room. The ball is in my closet. It is still in the box Justin used when he gave me custody. We both look at it.

  Justin picks it up. “It’s smaller than I remember.”

  “You were smaller the last time you saw it.”

  Justin smiles. “Do you have any gum?”

  “I was hoping you would ask! I’ve been saving some special for when you got here.”

  I go to my desk drawer and take out the gum.

  Adding new gum to the ball is tricky. You can’t add it too soon or it’s too juicy, so you have to chew it for a while first. When we are ready, we carefully stretch the fresh pieces over the ball of old gum. They are bright and slick.

  Justin stands back to examine our work. He smiles. “That looks better.”

  Just then we hear the front door open.

  “Max and Aunt Pam are here!” I shout.

  We run downstairs. Mom is introducing Max to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. Aunt Pam hugs me. Mrs. Daniels hugs Max. Mr. Daniels hugs Aunt Pam. It’s a little hug festival.

  Max holds out his hand. “And you must be Justin. Amber has told me so much about you.”

  Justin looks a little shy as he shakes Max’s hand, but I can tell he’s relieved that he’s not getting hugged.

  Watching them makes me remember when I didn’t know Max. I wouldn’t even say his name . . . I kept calling him “What’s-His-Face.” Now Max is a big part of my life, and a really good one.

  “Okay, we’re all here, let’s order the pizza.” Mom goes to the phone.

  “Amber’s favorite food group.” Max grins. “Yours too, Justin?”

  “Totally, as long as you remember to . . . . .” He looks at me, and we say it together. “Hold the anchovies!”

  We hold up our fingers, pretending to be the pizza guy holding the wiggly anchovies.

  Mrs. Daniels laughs. “You two will never change.”

  I think about that later, when I am in my room, trying to go to sleep.

  It’s not really true. Even though I sometimes wish they wouldn’t, things are changing. Justin and me . . . . Mom and Max . . . . everything. It all keeps changing.

  The grown-ups are still downstairs in the kitchen. Every once in a while I hear them laughing.

  Tonight the house is filled with people I love. But it is the last night that will happen. In two days Mom and Max will be married. When they come back from their honeymoon, we will be moving. So this is the last time that the house I grew up in will ever be filled this way again.

  I can’t help it. I cry a little.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I hand Justin a big box. It’s filled with glue and birdseed and glitter and rolls of ribbon and netting.

  “What’s this stuff for?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise for the bride and groom. Take it out to Max’s car.”

  I carry my dress. It’s on a hanger and covered by a garment bag.

  I give Justin the front seat, partly because I want to ride in the back to protect my dress . . . . . . partly because I want to give Max and Justin a chance to get to know each other.

  Aunt Pam leads the way. She honks as she heads out with Mom.

  Mr. Daniels sticks his head out of the car and yodels.

  Justin rolls down his window and yodels back.

  “We’re like a caravan,” I say to Justin. �
��Well, except for the yodeling. The only thing missing is the camels. Remember when Mr. Cohen turned our classroom into a caravan to Egypt?”

  “That was one of my favorites.”

  Back in third grade, when Justin and I were still in the same class, we loved our teacher. He had us make passports, and we took “trips” to countries all around the world. We got a stamp for every country we visited.

  We explain all this to Max. “Well, this caravan is going to Camp Sukkatukket,” he says.

  Justin sticks his head between the seats so he can see me. “Maybe they should call it Camp Boogertukket,” he whispers.

  I know he thinks I will laugh at this. And I kind of feel like I should. But I even more feel like I shouldn’t.

  Justin looks puzzled and turns so he is facing forward again.

  We get out into the country. Max says, “You should have been with us the first time Amber brought us out here, Justin. Everything was a mix of snow and mud.”

  “We almost never get snow in Alabama. I miss it. My dad says that’s because I don’t have to drive in it.”

  I look out the window. The cherry trees are covered with pink and white blossoms. The willow trees have turned that light green I love. Bright yellow patches of daffodils decorate many yards. I realize that I like living in a place with four seasons.

  When we pull into the narrow road that leads to Camp Sukkatukket, Max shouts, “Look!”

  He stops the car.

  Beside the road is a sign that says

  “This makes it so real,” Max says. “Wait a second while I get a picture.” He bounds out of the car.

  “I bet Fredrich and his father made the sign,” I tell Justin.

  “Do you think we should check it for Fredrich’s boogers?”

  Max gets back into the car before I can say anything. That’s probably good, because I’m starting to get a little angry about Justin’s jokes.