The Gossip File

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The Gossip File Page 8

by Anna Staniszewski


  “Yes,” Ellie says, her voice soft. “Work always comes first for him.” Then she shakes her head as if she’s clearing it and starts chattering on about what she’s going to order.

  Caleb sighs and goes back to his 3-D model. If only he knew about the conversation I overheard between his parents, maybe he wouldn’t always take his dad’s side. But I doubt he’d believe me even if I did tell him the truth.

  “Oh, Teddy!” Ellie suddenly announces. “Rachel and I were chatting earlier, and we decided we’d all go to Disney this weekend.” She gives me a big wink across the table.

  “All of us?” Dad says.

  “Can we really go?” Caleb says, perking up. Apparently, he’s as excited about amusement parks as he is about catapults.

  “It’s pretty pricey.” Dad scratches his head. “And with all the long lunches I’ve been taking recently, I’m not sure I can afford the time off…”

  “Come on, Teddy,” says Ellie. “This is Rachel’s vacation. We can splurge a little.”

  “Let’s talk about this later,” Dad says, clearly uncomfortable to be talking about money and family stuff in public.

  “What’s there to talk about? Rachel is here for the perfect family vacation, and that’s exactly what we should give her!”

  I expect Dad to say something, but he stays quiet, like he’s shut down. I don’t get it. If my parents were having this conversation, it would have already turned into an argument. They only have to smell money and they launch into a heated discussion.

  Meanwhile, I don’t know what I’m hoping will happen. Of course I want us to go to Disney, but not so that Ellie can do some big marriage proposal on top of Epcot. Figures that she’d take my perfect Disney trip and make it about her.

  Just then, I see Amir making his way across the restaurant.

  “Ellie,” I say, “isn’t that the guy you were talking to earlier? Who is he, anyway?”

  Her smile fades a little bit. “Oh, just an old friend,” she says.

  “Is he an ex-boyfriend or something?” I ask.

  That gets Dad’s attention. He glances in the same direction that I’m looking. “That’s right,” he says. “I forgot your ex works here. Is that Amir?”

  “I bumped into him before dinner,” Ellie says. “He seems to be doing well. If he comes by again, I’ll introduce you.”

  “Dad, you—you know about Amir?” I ask.

  Dad shrugs. “Of course I do, Roo. Ellie and I don’t have any secrets from each other. Do we, sweetheart?” He reaches over and takes her hand, his dark mood suddenly gone. “And I think Ellie’s right. We should all go to Disney this weekend. That’s an excellent idea.”

  I almost choke. Since when is going to Disney Ellie’s idea?

  “Great, it’s settled!” she says. “We’ll take some time off and go together, like a big family!” She giggles so loudly that I clench my teeth. I can never, ever, ever let this marriage proposal happen.

  Chapter 17

  While Dad pays the check, I excuse myself and stomp down the hall to the bathroom.

  I’m surprised the restaurant bathroom is one of those tiny single-person ones. I lock the door behind me and glance in the mirror, surprised at how terrible I look. My face is shiny and oily from the heat, and my hair is so limp that it could pass for black spaghetti hanging from my scalp.

  Remembering how Carrie’s head flip gave her hair more volume, I flip my head upside down and tousle my hair a little. Then I snap my head up, tossing my hair back.

  Crack!

  A weird sound echoes around me before the back of my head explodes in pain. Before I can figure out what’s happening, I sink to the bathroom floor and everything around me goes black.

  •••

  I wake up to the sound of pounding.

  “Rachel? Are you okay?” Dad is yelling from somewhere far away.

  As I sit up, my head is swimming. Why am I on the floor of a strange bathroom? And why is there blood on the tile next to me? And why does it feel like someone tried to saw my head in half with a butter knife?

  I grab hold of the sink and manage to pull myself to my feet. When I touch the back of my aching head, my fingers come away bloody.

  “Ah!” I cry, feeling a little woozy.

  “Guard-doggit, Rachel!” my dad shouts, letting loose one of his goofy fake swears. “Open this door!”

  Just then, the handle jiggles and unlocks. Ellie bursts in holding a key, my dad behind her.

  “What happened?” Ellie cries while Dad’s eyes go wide at the sight of the blood.

  Ellie grabs a paper towel and quickly presses it to the back of my head. Then she has me sit down on the closed toilet seat.

  “I was trying to…fluff my hair…” I say.

  My dad and Ellie exchange looks like they think I’m delirious. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he says.

  Caleb peers in through the door while restaurant employees mill around in the hallway, looking in curiously. Now that my head is clearing a little, I’m more embarrassed than injured.

  “No!” I say. Hospitals totally freak me out. Even though they always smell like disinfectant, I can’t help thinking they’re crawling with germs. “I’m fine.”

  Ellie pulls the towel away. “It looks like the bleeding is slowing down. But getting you checked out isn’t a bad idea.” For once she isn’t smiling.

  “Really, I’m okay,” I say, getting up. “My head hurts a little, but that’s it.”

  Dad looks to Ellie, who nods and says, “Follow my finger with your eyes, okay?” Then she has me do a few more things that I guess are supposed to tell her whether or not my brain is about to explode. I remember, suddenly, that Ellie used to be a nurse. Judging by how calm and reassuring she’s being right now, I’m willing to bet she was a pretty good one.

  “It doesn’t seem like a concussion, and I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” she concludes after inspecting the cut again. “But if you start feeling faint, we’re going straight to the hospital.”

  “Thank you. You’re the best,” Dad tells her.

  “It’s nothing,” Ellie says, but I can tell she likes the praise. My head pounds even harder.

  Dad comes over and gives me a quick hug. “Roo,” he says. Now that he knows I’m not dying, he looks a little angry. “Why can’t you be more careful?”

  I can’t believe he’s acting like I intentionally knocked myself unconscious. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

  “You never mean to,” he says. “But if you were more aware of your surroundings, things like this wouldn’t happen. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about you so much.”

  “If you were really so worried about me, why did you move so far away?” I snap. The instant the words are out of my mouth, I regret saying them. Maybe part of me means them, but mostly I don’t. Things have been okay since Dad left, at least the past couple months. I’m not mad at him for leaving, not anymore. But it’s too late to take back what I said.

  Dad looks stunned for a minute. Then he lowers his voice and says, “We’ll talk about this later.” He gives Ellie a little nod and then storms out of the bathroom.

  Caleb hovers in the doorway, clearly not sure what to do as Ellie works on cleaning the gash on the back of my head.

  “Your father is—” Ellie begins.

  “It’s fine,” I say, cutting her off. Ellie’s known my dad for only a few months. I’ve known him my whole life. I don’t need her telling me how to deal with him.

  When we get back to the apartment, Ellie checks me out one more time to make sure I’m okay.

  “Rachel, if you’re not feeling up for work tomorrow, don’t worry about it,” she says. “We’ll manage, okay?”

  I hate how nice she’s being to me. I might like her nurse side, but I can’t forget about the other side.
<
br />   My dad is quiet the whole time. Finally, he gives us a quick “good night” and announces he’s heading home. He doesn’t look mad anymore, just hurt. Part of me wants to apologize, but another part of me isn’t ready to take back what I said. Maybe because it did feel somewhat true.

  I can’t help the sadness poking at my ribs. I thought coming here would help me reconnect with my dad, but if today is any indication, it’s actually doing the opposite.

  Chapter 18

  I wake up early in the morning clutching my pillow like it’s a life preserver. If these sinkhole nightmares don’t stop soon, I might have to convince Dad to let me sleep standing up in his apartment after all.

  My head still aches a little from yesterday’s bathroom fiasco, but the bump on the back of my head is already half the size it was last night. From now on, I vow to be happy with my limp hair if it means never passing out in another bathroom again.

  I have a few minutes before I have to get ready for work, so I go sit out on the balcony with my Gossip File notes. Even this early in the morning it’s unbearably muggy out. I stare at the notes for a minute and then add to the one about Caleb. “Caleb’s dad doesn’t want him living there anymore, but Ellie’s trying to hide it.” I don’t know if that’s even gossip, but writing it down makes me furious. I hate that Caleb worships his dad when his dad doesn’t even want him around.

  Then a horrible thought creeps into my head. Am I fooling myself about my dad, just like Caleb is fooling himself about his?

  No, that’s impossible. My dad would never abandon me the way Caleb’s dad abandoned him.

  I shove the notes into my pocket and let my head sink into my hands. Why did I ever think coming to Florida was a good idea? Maybe I should call my mom and tell her I want to come home.

  But I can’t give up, not yet. My dad needs me.

  After I get dressed, I head toward the café, my brain churning. As I walk past the Four Palms Salon, I spot Ellie inside, laughing and chatting with one of the stylists. I glance at the time and realize my dad is already at work. Something pings in my brain.

  How would my dad feel about Ellie spending all that time not working while he’s busting his buttons at his job? If I send him a picture of Ellie getting her hair done while he’s lugging sandy equipment around, maybe that will get under his skin.

  I stand in the window, trying to keep anyone inside from seeing me. Then I hold up my phone and snap a picture of Ellie. The flash goes off, reflecting off the windows. The stylist turns to look outside as I leap behind a palm tree. Then I hurry away from the salon as quickly as I can.

  Once I’m hidden in an alcove, I deliberate for a long time about what caption I should include with the photo. Finally, I say, “Look who’s getting all dolled up while you’re at work!”

  I send it and hold my breath. A minute later, my phone beeps. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  I almost throw my phone into the grass. How can I get my dad to see the truth about Ellie? I’m tempted to come up with some crazy plan to break them up, but there has to be another way. Every scheme I’ve been pulled into during the past few months has totally backfired, and I can’t go through that again.

  My brain is still spinning as I go into the café and fire up the ovens, eager to do some baking. When they’re preheating, I take out the premade pastries and pop them in, but working on those just makes my baking itch worse, not better.

  Carrie is wiping down tables and Taylor isn’t here yet, so I start rifling around in the storeroom until I have enough supplies to make some muffins. As I start measuring and mixing, I instantly feel calmer.

  After the muffins are in the oven, Carrie comes over, sniffing the air. “What are you making? It smells amazing in here.”

  “Chocolate chip coconut muffins.”

  “Those aren’t ones we make, are they?” she says.

  I shake my head. “I kind of made them up based on what we had. Don’t be mad.”

  “Mad? Are you crazy? If this place smelled this good all the time, we’d be crawling with customers all day!”

  “But I’m not supposed to make stuff from scratch. Ellie said Mark has it all figured out.”

  Carrie shrugs. “Who cares? As long as I get to eat one of those muffins, I won’t tell anyone.”

  When Taylor comes in, she can’t wait to get her hands on one, either. When they’re finally cool enough, I divvy them up. Carrie practically inhales hers in one bite.

  “Ava, these are crazy good!” Taylor says. “We should ask if we can make these for the café. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about losing so much money.”

  I can’t help smiling at the praise. At least the baking part of my life still makes sense.

  “So are you finally done with your bits of gossip?” Taylor says.

  I shake my head. “Almost. I’ll have them done tomorrow.” Since it’s going to be my last day at the café, I figure I have no choice but to bring something in. I don’t think the notes I have are anything the other girls will care about, but at least they’ll see me—or Ava—as one of them.

  The door opens and a group of customers comes in. More than half of them buy my muffins, which makes me feel good, even if it’s technically against the rules. Once I break up Dad and Ellie, I’ll be able to quit this job and then the rules won’t matter anyway.

  Chapter 19

  As we close up the café for the day, I’m surprised to find Caleb outside in the grass, furiously gluing something together. When I get closer, I see that he’s holding a few pieces of wood that look nothing like the trebuchet in his model.

  “How’s it going?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “It’s not working right for some reason.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  He hesitates, like he’s thinking about sending me away, but then he shrugs and says, “If you want.”

  I kneel down and glance at the model he’s working from. “So you’re making the base first, right?” I might not know much about building things, but I know what I’d do if this were a cake.

  “I don’t know,” he admits. “I just started gluing things.” He laughs bitterly as he lets go of the pieces he’s holding and they fall apart. “Maybe my dad’s right. I’m not cut out for being an architect.”

  I have to chuckle. “You sound like me a few weeks ago. I was convinced that I wasn’t meant to be a pastry chef, even though that’s what I’ve wanted to be since I can remember. I was ready to give up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone told me I was doing everything wrong. I thought that meant I didn’t have what it takes. But it turns out, he was just trying to show me the right way to do things, and I was too stubborn to realize it.”

  Caleb shrugs. “Whenever I ask my dad for help, he explains stuff so fast that I can’t keep up.”

  “So don’t ask your dad,” I say. “Maybe someone else can help you. Or maybe you just have to try things on your own until something works.” I clap my hands. “Okay, let’s start over and see what happens.”

  As we start gluing pieces together, the frustration on Caleb’s face turns into intense concentration. Even if he’s having a hard time with this project, it’s clear that he loves building things.

  “Have you ever asked your mom for help?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Yeah, right. She’d just try to make everything perfect and ruin it. That’s what she did with my dad.”

  My ears perk up. “What do you mean?’

  “Dad works too much, so he’s always late or has to cancel stuff. It stinks, but I guess I’m used to it. My mom took it really personally, though. The more she tried to make things in our family work, the worse they got. That’s why she’s so psycho with your dad. I think she’s trying to make him the exact opposite of mine.”

  For a minute, I feel kind of bad for Ellie. Imagine trying you
r hardest to make things perfect and your husband still choosing work over you. I guess part of me can understand why she’s been controlling my dad’s life, but that doesn’t mean she can just bulldoze her way through my family.

  “My mom keeps trying to get me to move here,” Caleb goes on, “but even though my dad works all the time, I’d rather be with him than with her. She only wants me around because she thinks it makes her look bad if her son doesn’t live with her.”

  I think about that for a second as I spread glue on the end of a dowel. Should I tell him about the phone conversation I overheard? It doesn’t feel like my place to say anything.

  “I don’t know if that’s true,” I say finally. “When your mom told me that you lived with your dad, she seemed really sad about it. I think she really does miss you.”

  He shakes his head. “She misses telling me to tuck in my shirt and making me wear those stupid matching outfits. She thinks if something looks perfect, then it is.”

  He’s right about the perfect thing, but I’m not convinced that Ellie doesn’t care about Caleb. She might be a weirdo, but I think she really does want him around. Why else would she have gotten so mad about Caleb’s dad abandoning him?

  “She wasn’t like that before,” he adds. “Back when she was a nurse, she didn’t have to try so hard to be perfect. I guess because she was actually pretty good at it. But ever since my parents broke up, she’s like on this mission to be a robot or something.”

  “What about Amir?” I ask. “What happened with him?”

  Caleb shakes his head. “I wasn’t really around last year when all of that went down, but I guess his kids hated her because she kept telling them what to do.”

  “So she dumped him?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure he dumped her. She moped around for months afterward, until she met your dad.”

  “Do you think…do you think our parents will get married?” I say slowly.

  “I don’t know. I like your dad, and my mom seems to really like him.” He shrugs. “I think she likes the idea of us being one big family more than she’ll like the reality of it, just like with everything else.”

 

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