“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“Then why’d you buy the groceries?”
“To bring to them,” Dad said. “I could’ve sworn I told you.”
I shook my head. “We always cook dinner on Saturday nights. It’s tradition.”
“We’ll still do the cooking,” Dad said. “Just in another kitchen—with a couple extra sous chefs. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. So we’ll make pizza at the Tofskys.”
“I thought we’d shake things up a bit and do something else instead,” Dad said.
“What? But we always do pizza on Saturday nights. That’s also tradition.”
“Sage has celiac disease,” Dad said.
“She has a disease?” I asked, and I felt something twist deep in my stomach. Poor Sage.
“Don’t worry, it’s manageable,” Dad said. “It means she’s gluten intolerant and she can’t eat certain things.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, we’ve only done three Saturday pizza dinners. I’d hardly call that a tradition.”
I was with Dad every other weekend, so three Saturdays added up to six weeks of tradition. But given Sage’s situation, I didn’t press the point. “What are we making instead?” I asked.
“Caesar salad and lemon chicken,” he said.
“And your famous chocolate chip cookies for dessert?” I asked hopefully.
“No can do,” Dad said. “Flour has gluten in it. But I bought fruit and ice cream to bring with us. Fudge Ripple Swirl.”
“I love that flavor,” I said.
“I know.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “Hey, you know, if you don’t mind going out again, we should probably get some flowers for Gloria and Sage. People love getting flowers.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said.
I pushed back my chair. “Let’s go right now.”
“Did you finish your book report?” Dad asked.
“I’m not even sure I need to do one.”
“How about this—you work on your report, just in case. I’ll run out and get the flowers. Roses, maybe. Pink ones?”
“Yellow ones,” I said. “They mean friendship.”
“Why is that?” Dad asked.
“I’m not sure,” I told him. “I just know that they do.”
“All right then,” he said. “Yellow flowers it is. I’m proud of you, Chloe-Bear. You are such a thoughtful kid.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you soon.”
CHAPTER 3
I finished my index card and called Lia to fill her in on Book Pickup Day. By the time we hung up, Dad was back and it was time to go to the Tofskys. They lived in the apartment right below Dad’s. Gloria answered and gave us each a kiss on the cheek. “These are for you,” I said, handing her the flowers.
She bent her face toward the buds. “These smell exquisite,” she said. “And look—they match me.”
She was wearing a yellow dress, and seemed totally delighted by the coincidence, which made me happy, too.
“Chloe said yellow flowers mean friendship,” Dad told her.
“I love that,” Gloria said. “We’re friends already.”
Dad put the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter, and Sage came over to hug him hello. She was taller than me, not surprising for somebody my age. She came up to Dad’s shoulder. “Good to see you again, kiddo,” he said, mussing her hair.
“You too,” she told him.
I said hi to Sage, and she said hi to me. I complimented her skirt, and she said thank you. Then I wasn’t sure what to say next. I didn’t know what we had in common, if anything, and we didn’t have any history together. Sometimes making friends is harder work than it should be.
“Anyone want a drink?” Gloria asked. “There’s seltzer and juice, and Jim, there’s something for you on the back counter.”
Dad went for the bottle of wine. “This is my favorite vintage,” he said.
“I know,” Gloria said with a smile. “Uncork it for us. I’ll put Chloe’s flowers in water.”
I watched as he pulled open a drawer to get the bottle opener, and then took four glasses down from a high shelf above the stove. Sage and I got seltzer with a splash of cranberry juice in our glasses, and Dad poured wine into the other two. “To new friends,” he said, clicking his glass with each of ours.
“To new friends,” we all echoed.
We started dinner a few minutes later. Lemon chicken is pretty easy to prepare—especially with four people. Sage stepped up to the counter. “I call not chopping the onion,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” Gloria said. “I’ll take one for the team on onion duty.”
“I can do it,” I said. “I have a trick to keep from crying. Do you have any gum?”
“I think there’s some on the back counter,” Dad told me. He reached for it and handed it over. I popped a piece into my mouth, picked up a knife, and began slicing, tear-free.
“Wow, where’d you learn that?” Gloria asked.
“One of my dad’s cooking magazines.”
“You read cooking magazines, Jim,” Gloria said. “Really?”
“When I’m not reading about more macho things, like cars and sporting events.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “He only has magazines about cooking and being a dentist.”
“Leave it to my daughter to keep me honest.”
“Well, that’s all perfectly legitimate reading material for a man—or a woman,” Gloria said. “I just didn’t know you did. You learn something new every day.”
“It’s really not hurting your eyes?” Sage asked me.
“Nope,” I said.
“Can I try?”
“Of course.”
Sage took the knife from me. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and started chopping. “Wow, you’re totally right,” she said. “It’s not bothering my eyes at all.”
I looked at Dad and he winked at me. Then he turned back to the stove to heat oil in a saucepan. He added some wine (not his favorite vintage—that wine was too good to cook with, he explained), lemon juice, and a bunch of different spices. Gloria placed the chicken cutlets on a baking sheet, skin-side up, and told me to brush the sauce on them. I opened the drawer where Dad had found the bottle opener, but didn’t see a basting brush.
“Where’s the—” I started to ask.
“One drawer over,” Dad said. “To your left.”
I opened the drawer and, lo and behold, there was the brush. “Wow, Jimbo, you’re like a psychic tonight,” I told him.
“A man of many talents,” Gloria said.
“All right, Chlo,” Dad said. “Baste away.”
I did, and Sage sprinkled salt and pepper on top of the chicken. Everything went into the oven. Gloria tossed the salad, and Dad made the dressing—but he kept it on the side for now, so the lettuce wouldn’t get too soggy while we were waiting for the chicken to cook. We sat down together in the den.
“You have a faraway look in your eyes,” Dad told Gloria. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just how lucky we are, to be here all together right now.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Dad said. “Exactly.” He was looking at Gloria in a way I’d never seen him look at another person—a small smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. Even before he and Mom had split, he’d never given her a look like that. At least not that I’d seen.
And suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. Why Gloria knew what Dad’s favorite wine was, and how Dad knew where the wine opener and the basting brush were. Why Gloria was so interested in what magazines Dad read, and why Dad had wanted me to meet the Tofskys so badly to begin with. He and Gloria were dating.
Mom and Dad had only just split up. Sometimes at night I’d pass by Mom’s bedroom and hear her sniffling, and I knew she was crying about it. It always made something drop in my stomach, and I’d feel a little bit sick, knowing Mom was really sad and there was nothing I could
do about it.
Meanwhile, Dad already had a new girlfriend.
I’d even given Gloria yellow roses. I never would’ve even known what they meant if it hadn’t been for Mom. Lia and I had made paper roses for Mother’s Day, and we’d looked up on the Internet what the different colors meant. Our moms got pink-painted flowers for love and gratitude.
It seemed like a nice gesture, to give Gloria the color that meant friendship. But now it just seemed wrong. Like I’d been unfair to Mom somehow. I hadn’t done it on purpose. I’d only been trying to be a good guest. For the first time in my entire life, it felt like being a good guest made me not such a good daughter. Even though Mom wasn’t there to see, it made me feel really guilty.
At dinner, Dad sat next to Gloria, and Sage grabbed the seat on the other side of him. I sat across from Dad, but I couldn’t really see him because Gloria had placed the flowers in the center of the table and they blocked my view.
“This is delicious,” Gloria said. “We should do this more often.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Dad told her.
“Hey, Jim, guess what,” Sage said. “I did the high dive today.”
“That’s incredible,” Dad said. He held up a hand and high-fived her. “It’s sixteen feet—Chloe asked the lifeguard.”
When Dad had first moved to the condo, we’d gone to the pool behind the building and he’d dared me to jump off the high dive. I dared him back. But neither of us was brave enough to take the dare.
“I’m really proud of you,” Dad told Sage, sounding like a dad. I mean, sounding like he was Sage’s dad. Bad enough that he was replacing Mom so fast. Now it felt like he’d found a new-and-improved daughter.
I guess if he wanted to be with Gloria instead of Mom, it made sense that he’d want to be around Gloria’s daughter, too.
“Maybe tomorrow you can show Chloe and me how it’s done,” Dad told her.
“Sure!”
I pushed uneaten pieces of chicken around my plate. “Do you see your dad every other weekend?” I asked Sage.
“He lives in California,” she said. “I see him on vacations.”
“Oh.”
Dad kicked me under the table and peeked around the flowers to give me a Look, even though I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just wanted to know. Then Dad changed the subject, to the Billy Goat Trail, a hiking trail a patient of his had told him about. It turned out to be the Tofskys’ favorite. “Oh, really,” Dad said. “I’d love to try it.” Even though in my whole life I’d never heard about Dad wanting to hike anything. Then Sage said there was one particularly steep part that most people walked around, but she climbed right up it. The way Dad reacted, you’d think Sage was the only person in the whole world ever to do such a thing.
Everyone had pretty much finished eating by then, so I stood to clear the table. “Oh, Chloe, you are a dear one,” Gloria said. “Why don’t you help her, Sage?”
Sage did, but I made sure to reach for Dad’s plate first. “You know what I just remembered,” he said, as he handed his plate over. “A couple years ago, Chloe had her friend Lia over for dinner. At the end of the meal, Emily asked Chloe to clear the table.”
Sage had turned toward him, not really helping me, just listening. “Who’s Emily?” she asked.
“Chloe’s mom,” Dad told her. He said it dismissively, like it didn’t actually matter who Emily was. “Anyway, Chloe said no to helping. Apparently her friend Lia never had to. So I told Chloe, ‘That’s fine for you not to help clean up. But you should know if you’re sitting there, I feel a song coming on.’”
“Did you actually start singing?” Sage asked.
“I didn’t have to,” Dad said. “The threat of her friend hearing me sing was enough to get Chloe to stand up and clear that table”—he snapped his fingers—“like that!”
“It was the one time in my whole life I didn’t clean things up right away,” I said.
“I wouldn’t mind if you sang,” Sage said.
“Yeah, you would,” I told her. “You don’t know him well enough to know this, but my dad has a voice like a dying cat.” That’s what Mom always said, anyway. I turned to Gloria. “You should know that.”
“I consider myself duly warned,” she said, and she added her plate to the pile in my hands.
“Thanks, Chlo,” Dad said. “You’re the best.” He threw me a grin like everything was normal and great.
But I was thinking about Mom, and couldn’t smile back.
CHAPTER 4
The next day was Sunday and Dad and I headed back to Mom’s house. Mom always dropped me off at Dad’s condo, and Dad always did the ride back to Mom’s. That way they both had to spend the same amount of time shuttling me back and forth in the car.
The ride takes about a half hour. Dad used the time to talk about the Tofskys, and how it was too bad it’d been drizzling all day, so we’d missed seeing Sage on the high dive. Pretty soon the condo association would be closing the pool for the season, so we might not get the chance till next spring.
“It’s okay,” I said. I paused, then added, “To be honest, I didn’t like Sage that much.”
“Really?” Dad asked. “Why?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Chloe?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I got. You think we should be friends just because we’re the same age. But we didn’t have anything else in common. I don’t expect you to be friends with every single forty-two-year-old I meet.”
“You meet a lot of forty-two-year-olds?” Dad asked.
“Maybe all of my new teachers will be forty-two years old.”
“Then I’ll be friends with them,” Dad said. “My new friendships might be good for your grades.”
“That’d be cheating,” I told him.
“It was a joke, Chlo.” I’d known that, of course, but I didn’t say so.
“You want us to be friends just because Gloria is your girlfriend now,” I said. When he didn’t reply, I went on. “You can just admit that she is. It’s totally obvious.”
Dad sighed. “I wish you’d give Sage a chance, bear. She’s a great girl. Gloria says Sage misses her dad a lot, and that has made her insecure.”
“She didn’t sound insecure when she talked about what a good hiker and diver she is.”
“I think she wants us to like her, that’s all,” Dad said. “It’s tough for Sage, having parents who live across the country from each other. You’re lucky Mom and I are only a car ride apart.”
“I don’t feel lucky that you and Mom are a car ride apart.”
We lapsed into silence. Dad made the right turn onto Parrott Drive. Mom’s house was the second from the corner. Our old house had four bedrooms, and this one only had two. The kitchen was smaller, and our dining room table was pushed up against the wall in the living room. But those weren’t the things I minded.
Dad shifted the car into “Park,” but he left the engine running. “Well, bear,” he said.
“Why don’t you come in?” I asked. “You’ve never seen my room. You can’t even see it from here. It’s on the other side, facing the backyard. I set Captain Carrot’s cage by the window, so he can enjoy the view. There’s a big tree right there, so he stays nice and shady. Plus sometimes there are other rabbits on the lawn for him to look at.”
“I don’t think Mom would appreciate my coming in.”
“You don’t know that,” I said. “Maybe she wants you to say hi. You were married to each other after all—for twelve and three-quarters years.”
“I was there,” Dad said. “I remember.”
I looked away from him, toward the house that he’d never stepped inside. When Mom and Dad first told me they were splitting up, I didn’t realize that meant I’d have to move. But they said our house was too big for just Mom and me to stay in, not to mention too expensive. Now there’s another family living there. With their favorite foods in the fridge, and their pictures on the walls, and their friends
hanging out in the den when they come over to visit.
Sometimes it feels like when something is over, it never counted in the first place.
“Don’t you ever miss her?” I asked Dad, turning back to face him. “Don’t you miss us?”
I meant us as a family. But Dad didn’t understand that. “I miss you, bear,” he said. “Of course I miss you.”
He twisted to give me a peck on the cheek. I knew that meant it was time for me to go. Plus, I knew Mom was waiting on the other side of the door. Even though I couldn’t see her, I could sense her there.
“’Bye,” I said. “I miss you too.”
CHAPTER 5
I woke up the next morning thinking about the bright side of being the new kid in school: you have a fresh chance to be whoever you want to be.
Obviously my first choice would be to have two parents who still lived in the same house and Lia right across the street, so we could walk to the first day of fifth grade together.
But the truth was, at the end of fourth grade it was only Lia who’d started being friends with Trissa Thompson. Trissa, along with her best friend Bianca DeLuca, invited Lia to be part of their club, the A-Team. When I asked Lia about my joining too, she said it wasn’t really possible because I didn’t have a letter a at the end of my first name. In fact, there wasn’t an a at all in Chloe Michelle Silver. Which wasn’t my fault. It’s not like kids have any say in what their parents name them. If it had been up to me, I would’ve named myself Alana, which had not one a, not two, but three!
I got dressed and walked over to Captain Carrot’s cage. “Hey, Cappy,” I said, slipping a hand in to pet him. I ran my finger down the length of his white-and-brown speckled back. His fur was soft as cotton balls. “What do you think school will be like today? Will Monroe and Rachael remember me from Friday? I hope so. I hope my affirmation works.”
Cappy nibbled my pinky finger. “I have the best friends in my new school. I have the best friends in my new school. I have the best friends in my new school,” I said. My voice was super soft, but I knew he could hear me. Rabbits can hear up to two miles away. That’s why their ears are so big.
The Kindness Club Page 2