You're Invited

Home > Other > You're Invited > Page 11
You're Invited Page 11

by Jen Malone


  But before Becca can reply, Sadie claps her hands.

  “Attention, everyone. I would just like to thank you all for being here to celebrate Joe’s birthday.” Sadie gestures at the pug in Mr. Vernon’s arms.

  Why would anyone name a dog Joe?

  “We have a fun afternoon planned for y’all. First up, we thought we’d do a few doggy games,” Sadie says.

  Next to me, Becca snorts. “I’m still not convinced we’re gonna be able to get a slew of dogs to play anything besides Sniff the Butt.”

  I bump my hip into hers, but also give her a be-quiet look.

  Sadie doesn’t acknowledge our giggles, just keeps right on talking. “We’ve got a treasure hunt for a hidden bone, and then we’ll have a talent show where your dogs can show off their best tricks. If any of them know the command ‘speak,’ they can join along in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Joe before they dive into the dog-friendly cake. And we have plenty of food for you owners, too. So, for now we can mingle, and we’ll make another announcement in a couple minutes to start the first game. Have fun, everyone!”

  Sadie goes back to arranging the plates and silverware we borrowed from the dining room, while Vi leads a guest’s dog outside to do doggy business. I grab Becca by the arm and tug her over to help put some space between Bubby and Mr. Vernon, but we’re only halfway there when it happens.

  Just as Bubby reaches out to pet him again, Joe leaps from Mr. Vernon’s arms and sprawls onto the cake table.

  “No!” Sadie yells, and snatches the cake away just in time.

  The poor dog makes a run down the table as Mr. Vernon finally springs—well, as good as a seventy-five-year-old man can spring—into action. His pug flies off the end of the table onto a stack of extra dog beds, then scrambles up and races across the room on his stubby little legs.

  “Joe! Come back!” Mr. Vernon jogs after his dog, with Bubby right behind him.

  I’m still wondering why in the world he’d name a dog Joe when Custard Van Twinkle starts barking. The other dogs join in, and before any of us can do anything, Custard is on the chase, right behind Joe, with at least ten more dogs on their heels.

  They weave through the legs of the guests, all of whom are calling to their dogs. Then Joe takes a hard right and aims straight toward the back door, which Vi’s just opened.

  “Vi, the dogs! Close the door!” Sadie screams, still clutching the cake in both hands.

  But it’s too late. Custard Van Twinkle jumps up with a friendly “woof,” placing two front paws on Vi’s chest and knocking her right to the ground. She drops the leash she was holding, but she recovers quickly. She snags the leash to the poodle, then rolls to her knees and shoves the door closed. But by that point Custard and Joe are high-tailing it in opposite directions across the long lawn of Sandpiper Active Senior Living.

  Becca

  Daily Love Horoscope for Scorpio:

  Venus is aligned with Pluto. Something you thought you needed might already be in your possession.

  I . . . can’t . . . run . . . any . . . more,” I force out through gasps for air. I prop my hands on my knees and wait for my heart to stop slamming against my rib cage. Ick.

  Sadie’s almost to the lighthouse, but she stops and puts one fist on her hip. Calling above the wind and the waves crashing, she says, “Don’t you quit on me now, Becca Elldridge! We have to find these dogs and get them back safely.”

  She jogs toward me, also huffing and puffing (but maybe not as bad as me) and lowers her voice.

  “And when we do, we are totally putting an amendment in our company bylaws. No events involving animals. EVER. Possible exceptions for marzipan ones on top of cakes. I swear, after the whole thing with Fake Max and the seagull, you would have thought I’d learned my lesson.”

  She reaches me, sticks out her hand, and helps me up.

  “Got it. No animals. I vote ‘yay,’ ” I say.

  Sadie smiles. “Okay, so we’ve covered the town square and the gazebo. We let your parents know at the Visitor’s Center, Lauren’s checking the marina and the souvenir shops, and Vi’s looking by the shuffleboard courts. That leaves the lighthouse, right?”

  I sigh and start trudging through the sand in the direction of the redbrick building when a movement to my left catches my eye. A furry movement. Kind of like a tail wagging.

  “Sades, hold up!” I point to a fleck of brown twitching back and forth in the deep dune grass.

  “Uh-oh,” Sadie says.

  Uh-oh is right. If that’s really Custard Von Whatever Whatever, we’re in big trouble. Because he’s picking his way through the dune grass in a protected area. Like, an area where sea turtles lay their eggs that abso-posi-lutely cannot be disturbed, because then the baby turtles could die and stuff! Plus the town is crazy about keeping the dunes up because they stop the island from eroding into nothingness. And we can’t go after him because the fine for walking in there is like a trillion gazillion dollars.

  “What are we supposed to do now?” I wail.

  Sadie shoots me a don’t-be-so-melodramatic look. I am a master at interpreting that look. Let’s just say I get it from my friends . . . frequently. And also from some not-friends.

  “We’ll walk up to the edge and call for him. I bet he comes right out.” Sadie is already marching her way to the dune.

  “Here, Custard Von Something-Ridiculous!” I call.

  Another look from Sadie. “It’s Custard Van Twinkle.”

  “Oh, ’cause that’s so much better?”

  Sadie smiles and starts clapping her hands. “Here, boy! Here, doggy. I have a treat for you. . . .”

  She dangles a dog biscuit in the air in front of her. The tail retreats farther into the grass, and I moan.

  “It’s not working!”

  “I know,” Sadie says, and we lock eyes with despair.

  An earsplitting whistle cracks the air to our right, and Sades and I both swing our necks like we’re marionettes. A giant drooly Saint Bernard comes crashing out of the dune grasses and sea oats and pulls up at a dead stop in front of a dripping-wet Ryan. Both of them shake water (or drool, in Custard’s case) from their hair/fur.

  Ryan smiles at us, drops his boogie board into the sand, and reaches down to pet the dog. “Looked like you needed a hand.”

  “Wow. Your whistle’s almost as loud as Vi’s. Thank you sooooo much,” Sadie says. I’m still working on closing my jaw while Sadie launches into a whole account of what happened at the party and the hunt for the missing dogs.

  “We still don’t know where Joe is, but I’m hoping someone back in town has found him by now. There’s too much sand whipping around today to pull out my cell phone on the beach, but as soon as I can figure out how to get this guy back, I can find a spot to text Vi and get the scoop.”

  “Here, will this work?” Ryan takes the long black rope attached to his boogie board and slides one end under Custard Von Rip Van Winkle’s collar before knotting it. Granted, there’s a giant boogie board at the other end of it, but it’s totally a leash.

  I finally snap out of my trance. “That’s, like, totally genius, Ry! You’re so smart!”

  Ryan smiles a little (sort of) in my direction and hands the boogie board over to Sadie. “One dog. Delivered. I’m all done here, so, if you want, I can walk him back to wherever he needs to be, and you can keep looking for the other escapee.”

  Omigosh, omigosh. Here’s my chance to get Ryan all to myself. FI-NAL-LY.

  I tuck my elbow through Sadie’s.

  “Sades has her bike at the end of the boardwalk, and she could totes ride back with Twinkly here running alongside. Sooo much faster. But if you really do have some time, it would be ah-mazing if you could help me look for Joe. I’m super-duper worried about him.”

  “Um . . . ,” Ryan says, not looking either of us in the eye.

  Sadie glances over at me and gives a helpless shrug before saying, “You know what, Ryan? If you wouldn’t mind riding my bike back to the Active Se
nior Living with this guy, that would be really great of you. You can just leave the bike there and I’ll grab it later. Becca and I will head into town and text Vi to see if anyone’s found Joe.”

  Um, hello, bestie??? Did you not catch on to my diabolical plan to be alone with Ryan? What the what?!

  Ryan grins at Sadie and reaches over to grab his boogie board (with giant dog attached) back from her.

  “Cool,” he says. “I’ll stick around the center for a bit. Maybe I’ll see you guys back there.”

  He waves and starts up the boardwalk that crosses over the protected dunes.

  “There’s cake! Help yourself! Make sure you ask which cake is the people one, though,” Sadie yells at his back as he disappears.

  As soon as he’s out of sight, I punch Sadie on the arm. “What were you thinking?! I could have had hours and hours alone with Ryan!”

  Sadie gives me this look like she feels sorry for me, which I so completely do not get. She grabs my hand and we start trailing Ryan up the boardwalk. When we get to the top part of the dune, I spot Ryan, way off in the distance, turning the corner on Sadie’s bike.

  Le sigh.

  Sadie squeezes my hand and says, “Becs, you know I, like, totally love you and whatever. You’re one of my very best friends.”

  “Yeeeeaaah,” I answer, drawing out the word like it has a question mark at the end.

  “Well, I mean, I just wonder if you might be, um, coming on a little . . .” She pauses and uses her other hand to brush a piece of hair out of her eye.

  I wait. A little what?

  “Um, maybe a little bit strong. With Ryan. I mean, it’s not, like, embarrassing or anything, just maybe . . . I don’t know. I’m just not sure he’s Mr. Right for you, like you think.”

  I blink at her a few times. What is she even talking about? Omigosh, does Sadie like Ryan?

  “Do you like Ryan?” I blurt out before I can even think about it.

  “What? Why would you—BECCA! No!”

  She looks so horrified that I have to ask, “But he’s cute, right?”

  Sadie smiles now. “Totally cute. Adorable accent. Super nice. It’s just . . .” Sadie blows her bangs out of her eyes again and sighs. “I’m really, really sorry, sweetie. I just don’t know if he’s that into you. Which is totally his loss. Completely. Because you’re amazing.”

  We reach the end of the boardwalk and it’s like I’m in a weird daze while I brush the sand off my feet and find my sandals. What does she mean, not that into me? Like, he doesn’t like me? Like he never liked me, even a little bit, this whole entire time? I was 84 percent positive he liked me at least a little bit. I take a few deep breaths of the salty sea air and let the scent tickle my nose while I process this.

  Then I moan. It’s just what I do.

  “But Ryan was my best chance for a boyfriend this summer!”

  Sadie studies me for a second and my pout wilts a little. It’s hard to keep up the drama around Sades ’cause she’s so totally no-nonsense. Which she gets from her mom. Sadie’s eyebrows pucker like she’s having some deep thought and she taps her shoe against her thigh.

  “Interesting. Very interesting.”

  What’s so interesting about the fact that I’ve essentially spent half the summer on a useless mission and probably humiliated myself a gazillion million times?

  “What?” I snap.

  Sadie has both her ballet flats on now and my sandal straps are buckled, so we start walking up the little side road. I’m dying to hear her answer, but there’s something I have to do first. I tug on Sadie’s arm and she smiles and rolls her eyes. She knows I won’t pass by the mermaid without stopping.

  We pause in front of the pale yellow house on the corner and both reach down to scoop a penny from a giant oyster shell full of shiny coins. After a billion zillion trips to the beach, I don’t need to read the sign to know what it says, but it’s tradition, so I recite it out loud like always.

  “Take a penny from the dish,

  Close your eyes and make a wish.

  Tell it to the mermaid true,

  All her luck will come to you.”

  When I was little I used to make every wish be that we could stop at the Variety Shoppe for an ice-cream cone on the way home, and Dad must have known this, because we almost always did.

  Today I close my eyes and whisper under my breath, “I wish I could understand boys.”

  Let’s see the mermaid tackle that one!

  I squeeze the penny in my hand (tradition), and toss it into the tiny bright blue pool of water at the painted base of the mermaid statue. Sadie’s lands with a plink beside mine.

  She links her arm through mine and we start walking again.

  “I just have this theory,” she says as we cross Coastline Drive. “Humor me for two seconds and tell me what you like about Ryan.”

  About Ryan? Where do I begin? “Well, I mean, even you admitted that he’s super cute. And you’ve totally heard his accent, right? I mean, there is nooooo denying the accent.”

  Sadie just mmm-hmms.

  Then she says, “Okay, so, but those are both physical things, and you might act like it for fun sometimes, but I know for a fact you are not a shallow person, Becca Elldridge. So what else? What do you like about him as a person?”

  I have to think about this. I have to think hard about this. Finally I say, “Oh! His drama stuff. He wants to be an actor.”

  “Does he?” Sadie asks, and one of her eyebrows pokes up, along with the corners of her lips. She’s all smug about some aha moment she’s had.

  “Um, hello. Are we both sharing this planet? Because if so, you would have totally noticed the kid barely ever changes out of that drama camp T-shirt.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed that. But wanting to go to a fun camp and wanting to devote yourself full-time to a profession are two different things. So I was just curious if he wanted to go to acting camp or if he wanted to be an actor.”

  I’m really not sure I see the difference. He’s been so excited to do all the acting gigs we threw at him. Definitely, positively that means he wants to be an actor. Obviously.

  “I don’t know. I give up. What’s the answer?” I ask.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Because I’ve never asked him. And it sounds like you haven’t either. Hey, so how come he’s spending all summer with his great-aunt, anyway? Where are his parents?”

  I think hard again. I know this one. I know we talked about this when we first met.

  “Yes! I remember! They’re on a research trip.”

  Sadie turns the corner, heading for the gazebo and Merlin in the town square. She looks over her shoulder at me. “That sounds amazing. What are they researching?”

  Annnnnnnd, I have no idea. I never asked.

  “I don’t know,” I mumble. “What’s the point of this Twenty Questions About Ryan, anyway?”

  Sadie slows to let me catch up, then puts her hand on my arm.

  “Well, your first reaction was to be upset about not having a boyfriend, not upset because Ryan wasn’t acting on any of your I-like-you hints.”

  I still don’t get it.

  “I still don’t get it,” I say.

  “I’m just saying, maybe you’re more upset about the idea of not having any boyfriend, versus not having Ryan for a boyfriend.”

  Oh. Ooooooooooh.

  I’m quiet while she works her cell phone, even when she lets out a yelp a few seconds later. “They found Joe! He was eating Mrs. O’Malley’s hydrangeas!”

  I manage a half smile. Sadie plops down on the steps of the gazebo and pats the spot next to her. When I sit, she puts her arm around my shoulder and squeezes tight.

  “Becs, can I ask you something?”

  I nod. A few kids are playing Frisbee on the grass and there’s a lawnmower somewhere nearby, but otherwise, it’s pretty quiet. Merlin the Marlin is staring down at us with his shiny brass eyes.

  “Why’s it so important to have a boyfriend, anyway? I mean, how com
e you can’t just let it happen, like, naturally, or whatever?”

  I stare at an ant on the step below me trying to cart away a crumb on his back. It’s like he has the weight of the whole world on him and he’s just plugging away at it. I kind of feel like that too sometimes. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let Sades in on my secret.

  I take a deep breath.

  No, I can’t.

  Yes, I can.

  Nope. Can’t.

  Another deep breath.

  Okay, going for it.

  “It’s for my songs. I need one for my songs, okay?”

  Sadie stops tapping her feet. I don’t look away from the ant, but I can tell Sadie is staring at me. She probably has a bunch of wrinkles in her forehead.

  “Your . . . songs? What songs?”

  I pick at a piece of peeling paint on the step and break off a tiny section. I use it to scoop up the ant with his crumb and set him down on the sidewalk another step below. There. Hopefully I helped him out a little.

  “In my notebook. That’s what I write in there. I know y’all always wondered. But the thing is, I can’t possibly ever, ever write a real and genuine song unless I fall in love. And I can’t fall in love if I can’t get a guy to even want to spend five milliseconds in my presence.”

  Sadie squeezes my shoulders again. “First of all, plenty of guys would be happy to spend way more than five milliseconds in your presence. But also, you write songs? That’s kind of super cool, Becs! Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it felt too private to share just yet. And seriously, you have to totally, completely pinkie swear you won’t tell anyone else. Not even Vi and Lo. I was waiting to surprise you when I had an awesome song all written and worked out on my guitar and everything. Guess that’s not gonna happen.”

  Sadie stands up and brushes off her butt. She holds out her hand and pulls me up. “Another ‘first of all.’ Ready? First of all, I don’t know what we’re thinking, because we’re totally missing out on cake right now. Second of all, Becs? You are so awesome. There’s tons of other kinds of stuff to write about. Tons.”

  “Yeah, but all the radio plays are songs about love. Songs that make people feel things.”

 

‹ Prev