by Beth Ain
So I, for one, am very happy that there will be no huffing and puffing all summer long, and I’m also happy that none of us will be staying at home. “Let’s stand on this corner and make a list, Julesie,” my mom says.
“I don’t have a pen,” I say, feeling frantic and very excited to make a list while we are just standing on a street corner, waiting for the light to change. “Or paper!”
“It’s okay,” my mom says. “We’re on summer break. ‘No more teachers, no more books,’” she starts singing. Just like Elinor did. I laugh inside. “We’ll just shout it out loud into the sky, and we’ll remember because you always remember big, dramatic things.”
“I’ll remember,” Hank says, and he closes his eyes tight. This is Big Henry’s concentrating face. “Go.”
“LIST OF THE THINGS WE LOVE ABOUT SUMMER BREAK!” my mom shouts.
I feel my face get red-hot and I look all around us. My mom is a little crazy, and I wish that I could be that kind of crazy, but I can’t.
“I DON’T HAVE TO UNPACK ANY BACKPACKS!” she shouts again. “Your turn.”
“I get to be Lucy Lamb!” I say, just a little louder than usual. This shouting thing is not for me.
“That wasn’t exactly a shout, Jules, but it’s okay,” she says. “Hank?”
My brother keeps his eyes shut and yells, “I AM GOING TO CANADA AND I AM GOING TO LEARN TO SWIM!”
I look at my brother. Even though you might think he is a scrambled-eggs-and-chocolate-milk type person (because he loves scrambled eggs and chocolate milk more than anything), he is really not. He is a tall-icy-drink and Field-of-Dreams-salad person DISGUISED as a scrambled-eggs-and-chocolate-milk person. He gets this from my mom.
The shouting is finally over and we cross giant old Broadway without hustling as much as usual. I see Charlotte, Brynn, and Abby in the window of the diner, and they all start banging on the glass to say hi.
When we walk in, I see that we are seated at the big corner booth. I love this table. It is giant and round and you can see out the window. You only get to sit there if you are a party of at least six, which means we almost never get to sit there. For once, I am thankful for Charlotte and the fact that she is always throwing parties for herself.
I sit down between Brynn and an empty chair that I know is reserved for Teddy. The moms and Big Henry sit at the regular old four-person table next to us, which they connect to a little two-person table so that Henry and Charlotte’s baby sister, Ella, can sit, too.
“Henry, will you babysit for me?” Mrs. Pinkerton says to my brother. “Ella loves big boys.” I kind of wish I could babysit Ella. I only feel that way until she blows a raspberry and her mashed-up food sprays Big Henry in the face. He cracks up, and I turn back to my friends.
I listen to Brynn and Abby talk about their summer plans — Brynn is going to tennis camp and Abby is going to Europe.
“Like, England?” I ask.
“France and England!” Abby says. “Elinor even gave me her telephone number so that I can call her when we’re in London.”
Elinor didn’t tell me this, which makes me feel bad, and when they finally put my poached eggs down in front of me, I don’t feel like I can eat them. I can tell by the very hard pounding of my heart that this is the beginning of a very bad mood. Then, Teddy arrives, slamming himself into the seat next to me. He is way too close to me, so I can smell his mouthwash.
“Did you use Swish today?” I ask him.
“Yep,” he says. “Sorry.”
I cringe at this. The only thing that makes it okay that I am sitting next to the orange-fire-breathing best-friend-from-nursery-school monster is that he will be off to science camp in two days.
“Sorry about science camp,” Brynn says to Teddy now.
I look at Teddy. “It’s okay. They are going to reschedule it for later in the summer,” he says.
“What happened?” I ask.
“There weren’t enough kids for the first session,” he says.
“So what are you gonna do instead?” Abby asks.
“Jules didn’t tell you?” he asks.
I sense something terrible about to happen. “Tell them what?” I ask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We are going on a road trip with the Blooms, to Canada!” he says.
“No you’re not,” I say, pushing my chair away from the table. “We’re flying there on an airplane. We have passports and my dad is taking time off from the restaurant and it is going to be perfect.”
“Okaaaay,” he says. “That’s not what’s happening.”
Charlotte, Brynn, and Abby are all just staring at us, waiting.
I storm over to my mom, who is busy laughing with the other moms. Andie says, “Hi, kiddo.”
I ignore her and turn face-to-face with my mom. “Why is Teddy telling everyone that we aren’t flying to Canada and that we are going on a road trip instead . . . with the Lichtensteins?”
My mom looks at Andie. “You told him already?” she says.
“I had to. Science camp was canceled,” Andie says.
“Jules, Andie and I thought it would be fun, since we have a few days to spare, if we all drove to Canada together. A road trip!” she says. “And we can celebrate your birthday on the road and we can stop and see some sights and then drive over the border to Canada. Pretty cool, right?”
“We don’t even have a car,” I say.
“We’ll rent one,” she says. “A supercool one.”
“You are going to be in a car with Teddy all the way to Canada?” Charlotte says now. “Oh. My. G —”
“Charlotte!” Mrs. Pinkerton says.
I don’t wait for more. I slam my chair into the table and run out of the diner. My heart is pounding so hard now that it feels like it could fly right out of me and onto an I Heart NY tank top. I picture a real, thumping heart in place of the pretty love heart.
My mom interrupts my sidewalk daydream. “Jules, come on. It’s going to be fun. And Daddy will meet us there and —”
What? “Daddy isn’t coming on the road trip?”
“No, he has so much to do for the restaurant opening. This will give him time to get things all set before he comes up for the movie shoot.”
“So I won’t be with Daddy on my birthday?” I ask. Now I’m going to cry.
“We will celebrate before we leave,” she says. “Then Daddy and Teddy’s father will fly up and meet us in Montreal. This is going to be fun, I promise. Now, you need to go back inside and eat your lunch and say a nice good-bye to your friends. Got it?”
“Fine,” I say. I go back in, take one bite of my eggs, say my good-byes, and then I sit there in silence until it’s time to leave.
“Have a great summer, Jules!” Charlotte says, hugging me. I can’t even put my arms around her I am so mad. “Write me from Canada. Maybe just buy a postcard and spray it with something nice since you probably don’t have scented stationery.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t. Have a good time,” I say to her and to Brynn and Abby.
“See you in two days!” Teddy says as we leave.
“Sure thing,” I say.
I try to stay calm on the way home, but Henry is stepping on my heels and I just wish we could go back to where we were right before this awful luncheon, shouting all of our summer dreams into the air. But we can’t.
After a whole day and a whole night of sulking and feeling very, very bad for myself, I wake up to much better news.
“You have an e-mail, Jules,” my mom says when I drag myself and my overlong pajamas into my seat at the kitchen island.
I feel lit up inside. Finally! “Lemme see!” I say, grabbing for her laptop.
But she pulls it away. “Nope, not until you promise to be enthusiastic about our road trip.” She smiles at me like this is funny.
“You can pretend,” Big Henry says.
“That’s true,” my mom says. “You’re an actress. Pretend to be happy about the road trip!”
We all laugh at this until I see . . . him.
“Hi, Julesie,” my dad says.
“Hello,” I say in a serious voice.
“You were just laughing,” he says. “I saw you!”
“I was,” I say. “At Mommy and Big Henry.”
“So, you’re over your tantrum,” he says. I do not like when he says tantrum because it makes me sound like a giant baby.
“It wasn’t a tantrum,” I say. “I was just mad. And I am not finished being mad at you.”
He sits down and rubs my back. “But today is your pre-birthday party!” He says. “And for your present, you will get a special sneak peek at the BLOOM kitchen, where we will bake a cake — just you and me.”
This sounds so wonderful I cannot hold in the not-mad feelings for one more second. I burst into his hug. “Can it be chocolate? Can we use coffee in it?” My dad’s special chocolate cake has coffee inside and delicious white icing.
“Decaf,” he says.
“Yeth!” Hank says. “I mean, yes.” He really is working very hard at his speech therapy.
I run toward my room to get ready until I remember something. I run back to the kitchen, where my mom is holding out her laptop. Elinor’s e-mail!
“Hey, how did she get my e-mail address, anyway?” I ask.
“I sent it to her mom as soon as you told me what you wanted it to be,” she says with a wink. My mom has a way of making up for her road-tripping ways very, very quickly.
I open up the e-mail from iheartlondon@pizzazzorama.com. I am right away very jealous of her e-mail address. It’s a good one.
Dear SUPERSECRETSPYGIRL:
I made it all the way to London and my dad was waiting for us at the airport and he told me that he is taking the whole month off just to be with me and take me all around! Isn’t it wonderful?
Well, I miss you already and was thinking that since I am in London, where James Bond is from — Do you know who that is? He is the most famous spy ever, Jules, and maybe Lucy Lamb will be like him! — that maybe I will give you your spy assignments over e-mail the way James Bond gets assignments in his movies. Yes? Tell me yes and I will write you back. And also tell me all the wonderful things you are doing without me.
Love,
Elinor
I look up at my mom. “Can I write her back right away?”
“Of course!” she says.
Dear Elinor,
I love your e-mail address and your idea, so yes, please give me assignments!
You will never guess what happened. I am going on a road trip to Canada with Teddy and his mom and my mom and Big Henry, and I found all of this out at Charlotte’s good-bye luncheon, and now I have to be in a car on my birthday. And do you think Teddy is going to throw up in the car? I do.
Now, what is my assignment? I wish my real name were Lucy Lamb, don’t you?
Have fun with your dad and don’t miss me too much!
Love,
Jules (SUPERSECRETSPYGIRL)
I close the laptop. My pen-pal summer has begun! I run down the hall to get dressed for making a special pre-birthday cake at my dad’s new restaurant, which is going to open the minute we all get back from Canada!
“What do you want for your birthday dinner?” my dad asks me from the hallway.
“Brisket,” I say.
“Brisket?” he asks. “As in, Grandma Gilda–style brisket?”
“Yup,” I say.
“That’s not exactly a July food, Jules,” my dad says.
“It’s my favorite food,” I say.
“Brisket it is,” he says.
I smile. Brisket and chocolate cake and pen-pal e-mail from Elinor. This is a pretty good pre-birthday day so far.
Later, after I pick out all of the most important things for my trip — cozy pajamas, my pillow, my notebook, and my script — my dad and I leave my mom and Big Henry to finish packing. This makes me nervous because I keep picturing us getting to Canada and realizing that the only things in the suitcase are rubber ducks and paintbrushes and dinosaur rain boots.
But I feel all better the second we arrive at BLOOM. Outside it looks like a farmer’s market, and inside it smells like fresh construction and cilantro. “We should have named the restaurant Fresh,” I say to my dad, since that’s what it smells like and since the restaurant is only going to serve fresh, organic food.
“I like BLOOM,” he says. I like it, too. I named it! We get right to baking and I get to wear an apron and prepare the ingredients and make hot decaf coffee, which makes the batter smell especially good as it churns and splashes inside the giant mixer. I look at the hot chocolatey stew and think about the mudslide part of the movie, which has been worrying me. It seems like it would be fun, but I keep thinking of how sticky and disgusting it will be, and will it get in my mouth and stuck inside my ears and toes? Will I be able to breathe? Suddenly, I picture myself swirling around inside the mixer along with all that chocolate and hot decaf coffee and —
“Jules!” my dad says loudly.
“What?” I say. Then I snap out of it and see batter flying everywhere — hitting the wall of the kitchen and hitting my dad and me smack in the face!
I scream and my dad turns off the mixer fast, but he is laughing hysterically. I start to laugh, too, and we sit there for a while wiping ourselves down and waiting for the laugh to wear off. Then my dad pops up and gets the un-flung batter into the cake pan and into an oven. In the other oven is my birthday brisket — it smells so good I can taste it. We spend some time cleaning up, and then we set one of the tables for dinner.
As I am folding the napkins, my dad asks, “What were you thinking about when the batter went flying?”
“Nothing,” I say. I don’t really want anyone to know that I am afraid about filming the movie. I’ve wanted to make this movie since the day Colby called to say I didn’t get the Swish commercial. Plus, everyone is used to me being nervous about things like orange-flavored mouthwash, or having to act like a sassy little sister, and singing on countertops, so now I just want everyone to think that, for once, I am not nervous. Not about Emma Saxony and not about a giant mud pit that will probably swallow me up and spit me back out like some bad-tasting mud mouthwash.
“Nothing at all?” my dad asks.
“Nope. Well, okay, I was thinking about how much fun that mudslide scene is going to be,” I say.
“Are you nervous about it?” he asks.
“Nope,” I lie. This is a good lie, I think. Now my dad doesn’t have to worry about me being nervous without him and he can just concentrate on the restaurant and meeting us in Canada. It’s a helpful lie.
“Wow, good,” he says.
My mom and Big Henry walk in then, and my dad says, “Wait a minute. Jules, close your eyes.”
I do. And when I open them, the restaurant is dark except for lots of candles on our table and little white lights lit up all around us.
“Happy pre-birthday, Julesie,” my dad says, handing me a newspaper-wrapped present. I open it, and it is a compass. On the back it says, To find your way! Love, Dad.
I hug him very tight and my mom puts on music, and we all sit and eat brisket and carrots and potatoes and chocolate cake, and then we clean up and lock up and walk home as a family. It is the greatest last-night-before-the-big-road-trip night ever.
We check the mail in the lobby when we get home and there is something for me — pink mail. Strawberry-scented mail. She just left today and already I have mail from her. I open it up.
Even though I don’t care AT
ALL that Charlotte is going to be in a camp play and even though I would NEVER, EVER want to be away from my whole family all summer, I feel that heart-thumping feeling I get when I am mad about something. It seems like Charlotte is saying I’m not very good at acting, and she’s probably right, but it makes me mad anyway.
I picture Charlotte being perfect in her camp play and everyone clapping really loud for her in their Camp Lackahanna sweatshirts and hats and then toasting her with giant pitchers of bug juice, which is just fruit punch, but at camp they call fruit punch bug juice. All of this seems more glamorous than being in Canada and sliding down a mudslide.
I write back to her immediately from my mom’s computer.
Dear strawberryscentedcharlotte,
Your stationery is very smelly. My e-mail address is SUPERSECRETSPYGIRL@pizzazzorama.com, and no, I haven’t started my road trip yet, so Teddy has not thrown up yet. If he does I will let you know and you will be very glad that I am not sending you actual stationery since I will be locked in a car with him and his throw up! Maybe Teddy’s e-mail should be throwupscentedteddy@pizzazzorama.com.
Have a good summer!
Jules
I hit SEND and feel bad right away that I made fun of Teddy like that. He hasn’t thrown up in a very long time, and he’s funny and smart, but sometimes his weirdness freaks people out and I’m afraid they will think I’m weird, too, because I spend so much time with him. I try not to think about the e-mail I sent Charlotte, and instead I concentrate on saying good-bye to my room.
There is a knock at my door. It’s my dad. “Seems like a special assignment has come in, Agent Bloo — I mean, Agent Lamb.” He hands me the computer.
SUPERSECRETSPYGIRL: Special assignment from London. Practice stealth. Don’t be afraid to get help from strangely scientific nursery-school friends and little brothers in giant rain boots.