Revenge of the Teacher's Pets

by Jennifer Ziegler

“Hello, girls,” said a voice as we walked through the front door. Only it wasn’t Mom. Dad was sitting in an armchair across from Mom in the living room.

  “Dad!” Delaney bounced over to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Lily called and asked me to come over.”

  Dawn glanced around, confused. “Lily did? I thought she was on vacation.”

  “I know,” he said. “But she told me she’d be back here soon and that there was something she wanted to tell us all.”

  “Oh. Good. Because” — I glanced over at Dawn and Delaney — “we have something we want to tell you, too.”

  Dawn made big warning eyes at me — meaning she didn’t think I should have said anything. I held her stare and raised my eyebrows — reminding her without words that we needed to tell them sometime anyway. It probably seems strange that we could have that conversation without talking, but we do it all the time. It’s a triplet thing. Or maybe just a sister thing.

  Just then I heard the sound of feet on our porch. I figured it was probably Lily, but soon came a familiar rap on our door. Sure enough, when I opened it up, there stood Aunt Jane, grinning one of her wide, warm smiles.

  “Aunt Jane!” I shouted, and soon Dawn and Delaney were zooming up beside me. We each had a turn hugging her as she made her way inside. And Quincy also bounded over to greet her.

  “Jane!” Dad said.

  “Phil-dog!” Aunt Jane said.

  And the two of them did that thing they always do where they pretend to have a boxing match and then end up hugging — while Mom stands off to the side shaking her head and rolling her eyes, but smiling, too.

  “Don’t tell me,” Mom said as she stepped in for her hug, “did you also get a call from Lily?”

  “I did,” Aunt Jane said. “She told me to come as soon as I could. That it was important. What’s it all about?”

  Mom shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Aunt Jane showing up is a nice surprise no matter what!” Delaney said with a little happy dance.

  For a moment, Dawn, Delaney, and I forgot about our problems and hurt feelings. Finding both Dad and Aunt Jane at the house felt like Christmas in September. We were standing in the foyer, listening to Aunt Jane talk about her new job running a campground as she played tug-of-war with Quincy, when the door opened suddenly and Lily and Alex walked in.

  Again we went through our round of happy greetings, with Delaney bouncing and Quincy leaping about.

  “Can, um … can everyone sit down for a sec?” Lily asked after a minute. Her face was carnation pink and there were squiggly worry lines on her forehead.

  My eyes darted around to each of my other sisters. They seemed just as uneasy as I felt. Even Mom had that look she gets whenever we bring one of our official proposals to her — kind of worried and super alert all at once.

  Lily and Alex sat on the couch with Aunt Jane, and Mom and Dad took the armchairs. I sat cross-legged on the carpet with Dawn and Delaney, between the armchairs and directly across from Lily.

  “Good. Thanks for being here, everyone,” Lily said. She seemed kind of winded, as if she’d been running a race — even though I knew she hadn’t.

  “What’s up, sweetheart?” Aunt Jane said, giving Lily a bolstering smile.

  Lily took a deep breath. “Alex and I …” She glanced over at him and he put his arm around her. “Alex and I got married.”

  Delaney raised her hand. “You mean you’re going to get married.”

  “No,” Alex said, “we already got married. See?” He lifted Lily’s left hand. The white-gold engagement ring with the diamond and the two blue sapphires sparkled on her ring finger, and below it was a matching white-gold band.

  Mom shook her head. “Wait … what?”

  “Where?” Dad asked. “When?”

  “How’d this happen?” Aunt Jane leaned forward, inspecting the ring.

  “Alex joined me in New Orleans while I was visiting Clare,” Lily said, “and, well, we eloped.”

  “Eloped?” Mom repeated. She and Dad exchanged shocked expressions.

  “So … you won’t have a wedding here?” I asked.

  “Or anywhere?” Delaney asked.

  “And you won’t need our help?” Dawn asked. On the word help, her voice cracked.

  Lily looked over at Alex, then at us. “No. It’s all done. No need for a wedding.”

  Dawn got to her feet. “How could you do that?” she said, then turned and bolted out the front door.

  “No!” Delaney said. “It’s not fair!” Then she, too, ran out the door.

  I couldn’t say anything. I had so many thoughts in my head, and it was like they were shoving one another out of the way, making me unable to focus on any of them. Everything was ruined now. We wouldn’t get to help Lily after all. No shower and no wedding. We wouldn’t get to toss real flowers or make a toast or see Lily and Alex kiss after Reverend Hoffmeyer pronounced them husband and wife.

  We weren’t needed. We weren’t wanted.

  Tears were starting to fall from my eyes, so I stood and rushed out the door after my sisters. Delaney was already jogging laps, and Dawn was hiding in a spot on the porch between the wall and Quincy’s crate. I ran over to the big pecan tree in the front yard and started climbing it. It was the best way I knew to get away from all the sad or scary stuff and clear my head.

  I’d scrambled up that tree for years, and knew all the handholds, footholds, and strong limbs. I could do it without thinking about it. But maybe I’d grown too big for some of the grips and ledges, or maybe I was more upset than usual and not paying close enough attention.

  Because the next thing I knew, there was a whoosh and a snap and suddenly, instead of sitting on a big limb, I was dangling by both hands from a branch.

  A skinny branch. With no other limb in reach.

  And even though my hands had a good grip, I knew they couldn’t hang on for much longer.

  I was going to fall.

  Everything was awful. Everything was wrong and weird and terrible.

  Those were the thoughts going around and around in my mind as I jogged around and around the yard. Tears were dripping everywhere, and at one point I had to stop, dig a tissue out of my pocket, and blow my nose. While I was doing that, something fell on my head.

  “Ow!” I cried. I glanced down to see what it was and saw it was a white sandal.

  That’s when I looked up and saw her — Darby, hanging from a skinny little branch.

  “Help,” she said, kind of breathlessly.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh no no no no no!” For a second I just started running in a smaller circle. I was so fearful, I had no idea what to do. Darby needed help — real help — and fast.

  And so I did the one thing I’ve always been able to do in these situations. I threw back my head and screamed the most intolerably loud scream I’ve ever let out in my life. It was the kind of screaming that was powered not just by air inside my lungs but by panic and terror and love for my sister. And I kept on screaming until I saw Mom, Dad, Aunt Jane, Lily, Alex, Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor, and Ms. Woolcott come out of their houses and run toward us. Dawn told me later that the birds even stopped singing and the wind stopped blowing and a couple of cars pulled over on the nearby road.

  As they raced over and saw what was going on, the grown-ups all started talking at once.

  “Oh my goodness! What happened?”

  “Darby — don’t move!”

  “That branch! It could break at any moment!”

  “Someone do something!”

  “Do we have a ladder that high? Anyone have a ladder that high?”

  “I might. I’ll go get mine.”

  “Would a ladder even help? We don’t want her to fall on a hard ladder.”

  As they talked and shouted, I ran in a circle whimpering, wanting someone to do something. Mr. Neighbor was running to his toolshed for a ladder, but other than that, we were all just standing there, staring up at Darby’s feet.

  Then sudd
enly I heard a voice — loud and brash as if coming over a speaker.

  “Listen! Listen to me!” It was Dawn, talking through the megaphone. She must have run and gotten it while everyone was yapping.

  “Ms. Woolcott, call 911,” she said. Ms. Woolcott nodded, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and started pressing buttons.

  “Everyone else, we need something soft for her to land on.”

  “My mattress!” Mom said.

  “Go! Everyone, go help Mom bring out the mattress.” And off everyone went, lickety-split, except for me, Dawn, Ms. Woolcott on her phone, Mr. Neighbor running to get his ladder, and Dad.

  “Dad, you should go, too!” I said to him. I was so upset, I was shaking and hopping at the same time, so my words came out twittery and broken.

  “No, I’m staying here. They have enough people,” Dad said, staring up at Darby’s feet. “I’m going to stand right beneath her, so if she drops, I’ll break her fall.”

  “But you’ll get hurt, too!” I wailed.

  “I don’t care.” His eyes stayed on Darby. He looked so scared, like I’ve never seen before, and his words were so frightening that I almost started screaming again.

  “The firefighters are on their way!” Ms. Woolcott said, lifting her hand with the phone in it.

  “Hang on, Darby!” Dawn said through the megaphone. “Don’t worry. Help is on the way!”

  “I don’t know if I can,” came Darby’s trembly voice. “My hands are getting slippery.”

  Just then, I heard a clatter and looked toward our porch in time to see Mrs. Neighbor holding open the door so that Mom, Alex, Lily, and Aunt Jane could maneuver out her queen-sized mattress. I had so many thoughts and felt so many emotions all at once. I was impatient and wanted them to hurry. I was terrified for Darby and Dad. I was mad that I couldn’t just sprout wings, fly into the air, and help my sister down from the tree. And I was remembering all the times I secretly jumped up and down on Mom’s pillow-top mattress, marveling at how soft and strong it was.

  I hoped it still was.

  As soon as they made it down the steps, they carried it over to the tree faster than I would have expected.

  Mom shouted, “Phil!” and Dad moved out of the way.

  After a little bit of back and forth, they set down the mattress and stepped back. I could feel myself breathe again — and I wondered how long I’d been holding it. I could hear sirens in the distance, coming closer.

  “Will that help?” Mom asked. Her voice was just as jagged as Dad’s had been.

  “Sure it will,” Aunt Jane said, sounding reassuring. “We just need to make sure she doesn’t bounce off.”

  “Let’s gather round the mattress, everyone!” came Dawn’s voice through the megaphone. “Gather round and stop her from bouncing off onto the ground.”

  Dawn dropped the megaphone and joined us as we circled the mattress, holding up our hands, shield-like, the way Aunt Jane was doing.

  “I’m going to fall!” Darby said. “I’m sorry! I can’t hold it! I’m going to … Aaaugh!”

  The next thing I knew, Darby was whirring past. She hit the mattress, bounced up, hit it again, and mainly stayed put. It didn’t even seem like my sister. More like a sister-sized rag doll. I have no idea if she bounced into anyone or not, but we were all still standing. For a moment, it was quiet. Just the sirens in the distance. Then Darby made a sound, kind of a squeak.

  “Darby, sweetie. Are you okay?” Mom started to climb onto the mattress, but Aunt Jane held her back.

  “Wait now,” she said. “Everyone wait. Let’s not touch her. She could have injuries.”

  “I think I’m okay,” Darby said, stirring slightly. Her eyes blinked and a weird smile came over her. “That was kinda neat.”

  “Dagnabbit, Darby!” Dawn hollered. She was full-on crying, like she hadn’t done in front of us for years. “Don’t ever do that again! I love you, you wild, pigheaded daredevil!”

  The firefighters were pulling up now. A short red truck stopped in our driveway and people jumped out. As they rushed toward us, I heard Darby say, “I won’t, Dawn. Not ever again. I promise. And I love you, too.”

  “And I love all of you!” I shouted. “And I love that we all love each other!”

  It was the best kind of cheering, for all the best reasons.

  It naturally took a while for the hubbub to die down. The first responders determined that Darby was fine — no broken bones, concussion, or other injuries. Just a severe case of foolhardiness. They warned she would likely be sore the next few days, told Mom and Dad about some painkillers she could take and what to look out for. After that, they climbed into their truck and drove away.

  The Neighbors and Ms. Woolcott stuck around long enough to hear Darby pronounced reckless but fine, and then Mr. Neighbor said to Ms. Woolcott, “Come on, Josephine. Let’s let this family have some time to themselves.”

  Ms. Woolcott was sniffling and dabbing her eyes with a flowered handkerchief. It almost seemed like she didn’t want to go, but then Mrs. Neighbor invited her over for iced tea and homemade muffins, and the three of them walked across the street to the Neighbors’ cozy front porch, Mr. Neighbor carrying his ladder and Mrs. Neighbor patting Ms. Woolcott’s back.

  Ms. Woolcott wasn’t the only one crying. Mom, Dad, Lily, Aunt Jane, Delaney, and I were all either boohooing loudly or regularly wiping tears off our cheeks and blowing our noses. Aunt Jane told us later that when your body fills with strong emotion — the way it did when Darby was in peril — it has to be let out some way, and crying is really a good way.

  “I’m sorry,” Darby kept saying as she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to.” Even as Mom and Dad reassured her that it was okay, she kept saying she was sorry. When they brought the mattress back in and found a few ants on it, she cried and apologized for that. She even apologized for a mosquito bite Alex got.

  Finally everything was back where it should be, and we all gathered in the living room again — where we’d been before the big calamity.

  “I feel like this mess all started with me,” Lily said. “Everyone got so upset at our news.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Darby said. “And we’re happy for you guys — really. We were just … just …”

  “We were just surprised,” Delaney finished for her.

  “And a little let down,” I added. “But only because we’d wanted to be there.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But I just couldn’t go through with a wedding,” Lily said, her eyes focused on the floor. Alex sat beside her, holding her hand. “Every time I started to even think about invitations or catering or picking out formal wear, I’d feel sick to my stomach.”

  “I know,” Delaney said, patting Lily’s and Alex’s clasped hands. “I hate fancy clothes, too.”

  “When Clare invited me to visit,” Lily went on, “I just thought, Why not do it there? Alex could join me, my best friend would already be there, and we’d be in the beautiful French Quarter of New Orleans.” She paused and closed her eyes. “I thought, Let’s just get it over with. So I asked Alex.”

  “And I told her, if that’s what she wanted, then that’s what I wanted,” Alex said. “It didn’t matter to me where it took place or who was there. To me, the only important detail was that she be my bride.”

  Lily smiled at him — the biggest, happiest, sparkliest smile I’ve ever seen. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “I hope you’ll eventually understand.” Lily glanced around at me, Darby, and Delaney. “To us, it’s the marriage that matters, not the wedding. But I am very sorry if our decision hurt y’all’s feelings.”

  “Honey, we are so happy for you two,” Mom said. “We really are.”

  “We were just caught off guard, is all,” Dad said.

  “Aw heck. I for one am pleased as punch,” Aunt Jane said. “Now I don’t have to put on a dress!”

  We all chuckled at that.

  “Do Alex’s parents know?” Mom asked.

 
; Alex nodded. “We stopped on the way here. We wanted to catch them before they went on their trip to the coast.”

  “I’m sorry I got upset,” Darby said, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was just disappointed we didn’t get to help. But I’m way way way more happy than I am disappointed.”

  “Plus, we’ve had a rough time of it since school started,” Delaney added. “So a lot of that wailing and carrying-on had been kind of stored up inside us — and had nothing to do with you. We overreacted.”

  The two of them looked over at me. I got to my feet and turned to face Lily and Alex.

  “I also apologize for my reaction,” I said. I cleared my throat and tried to find the words to explain what I’d been thinking for the past hour or so. “You all might not realize this, but I’m a little bit stubborn. I tend to look into the future and make a picture in my mind of what I want to happen. Then, when it doesn’t turn out that way, I can get riled up. But that’s my problem. And I need to be not so set in my ways about how things are supposed to turn out. I’m … well … I’m working on that.”

  I glanced at Darby and Delaney to see if they realized I was apologizing to them, too. The warm smiles on their faces told me they did.

  “Lily has it right, you know,” I went on. “Sometimes you have to do what’s right for you, despite what other people want. Even if it means letting people down or being separated from your sisters.”

  Mom stood up and put her arms around me. “I’m very proud of you girls,” she said.

  “Me too,” Dad said, scooping Darby up in a sideways hug.

  “Me three,” Aunt Jane said, reaching over to muss up Delaney’s hair. “You really came together when it mattered.”

  “Me four!” Lily said.

  “Me five!” Alex said.

  I felt a glow come over me. Only I couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside me or from everyone around me. Maybe both.

  “Thanks, everyone,” I said, settling into the hug. “And Dad? Mom? I really hope you two hold on to those feelings of pride and love because, well, any minute now you’re going to get a phone call from the school.”