“Where’d he go?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” EE says, rubbing her eyes. “He didn’t say.”
Suddenly someone comes into the room. It’s Joe, one of Marley’s dads—the blond one with glasses and freckles. The one who has a bakery at the mall and always smells like cinnamon. When I was younger I thought his freckles were cinnamon, actually. And I tried to sprinkle cinnamon on my own face so I would match, but it didn’t work. Instead I got some in my eyes and it stung really badly. My mother thought it was the cutest thing and told the story all the time until I told her it was embarrassing and she wasn’t allowed to mention it ever again.
Anyway, Joe always brings home whatever is a day old and doesn’t sell: delicious blueberry bread, chocolate devil’s food cupcakes, s’mores-flavored cookies, sour cream coffee cake. The mistakes, too—like the birthday cake that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVEN when the client spelled his name with a ph instead of a v.
“Marley, are you talking to someone?” he asks, looking around. “And why is it so cold in here? Why is your window open? It’s snowing outside. You’ll catch cold.”
As he’s walking to the window, he almost trips on EE.
Joe stumbles. Then he freezes. He seems shocked but recovers quickly.
“Oh, Ellie. Hello. It’s so late. What are you doing here? Did you … Did you climb through the window?”
Too upset to speak, EE simply nods.
“But why?” Joe asks.
And that’s it. She loses it. EE starts to bawl. It’s a big ugly cry. Her eyes are red and squinty, her nose runny.
Joe looks to Marley, confused. “What happened?” he asks.
“Her dad is gone,” Marley tells him. “Her parents are getting a divorce.”
I am annoyed. I never told her it was a secret, but that doesn’t mean she has to blurt it out. Like there’s something wrong with me.
Joe actually gasps. “Oh no,” he says, moving closer and giving EE a hug. “I’m sorry things aren’t great at home right now. You can stay here for as long as you’d like, but I need to call your mom. She must be so worried about you, if she even knows you are gone. I need to let her know, to tell her you are okay.”
EE buries her face in Joe’s shoulder. She is the last thing from okay.
“Don’t call my mom. She’ll come get me,” Ellie cries.
“Maybe she’ll let you stay,” Joe says, patting my shoulder. “I don’t want her to worry about you. I’ll be right back. Okay?” Joe heads out of the room.
Now that the girls are alone again, Marley turns to EE and asks, “Want to make some friendship bracelets?”
EE shakes her head no. “We never finished the last batch. Plus, I don’t want to make one for my dad anymore. I can’t. I wouldn’t know how to get it to him.”
“Hmm.” Marley frowns and thinks and scratches her head. “Good point. And I think we left all that yarn at your house, but we can draw stuff. I just got some new markers. The scented kind?”
EE sniffs and wipes her red nose. “Okay.”
The two girls get to work.
A few minutes later, Joe comes back into Marley’s room. “Your mom says you can sleep over if you want to. She’ll be by in the morning to pick you up.”
“I don’t want to go home in the morning. I don’t want to go home ever,” EE says.
Joe looks at her sadly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know it’s rough.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We can figure it out tomorrow. Maybe we can make some crepes. You like crepes, right?”
She sniffs. “Chocolate or banana?”
“Your choice,” he tells her.
She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, thinks about this for a few moments before giving her answer. “Chocolate.”
“You got it,” says Joe. “I’m going to run over to see your mom, get your toothbrush. I’ll fill Dave in. He’s in the study. If you need anything while I’m gone just ask him. Okay? You girls have a good night.”
“Night, Daddy,” says Marley. She jumps up and hugs Joe. EE watches sadly.
I know what she’s thinking.
I’m thinking the same thing right now. Marley is so lucky I can hardly stand it. She’s got two awesome dads. And I’ve got none.
chapter five
I wonder if maybe I’m in a coma, and if these are simply crazy dreams—flashbacks of painful memories from my childhood still lodged in my psyche like chewing gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
I’m probably in the hospital right now. The ambulance must’ve rushed me here.
My classmates must be so worried about me. I’ll bet everyone on the committee is crying. It would be a disaster, me being out of commission today. Any day of course, but especially right now, at this very moment, when I am in charge of this whole, entire night. There are still so many last-minute details to take care of. The rest of my committee could never pull things together in time without me telling them what to do.
And even if they did manage to scrape by, no one would be able to have any fun without me. They’d all be too worried about my well-being. Yes, they must have canceled the dance because of my fall. I am sure of it.
I’ll bet everyone is too busy buying me flowers, making me presents, and passing around one of those gigantic get-well-soon cards. My room is probably already decorated with balloons and gift baskets. I’ll bet there’s so much stuff inside that there’s hardly space for the doctors and nurses to fit.
I take a deep breath, thinking that if I can smell the popcorn and the sourdough bread so distinctly, then perhaps I can smell the flowers, too. Except I don’t. At the moment, I can’t smell anything.
“You really need to get over yourself,” the Girl in Black suggests. Her voice booms from somewhere up above.
“Where are you?” I ask, looking around.
The Girl in Black is nowhere to be seen.
I don’t like that she can read my mind. It’s dangerous, not to mention irritating. Jerk!
“I heard that!” she shouts.
“I know. You were supposed to hear that!” I scream.
I turn back to the scene in front of me. Imagined or not, it looks and feels all too real. Joe and Marley are comforting eight-year-old me, and it is making me sick to my stomach, like physically ill. But how can I feel ill when I’m already in the hospital with a serious head injury? Maybe it’s a reaction to whatever medication they are giving me through an IV. I don’t know, but one thing I’m sure of—I do not want to see any more of this pathetic scene. I need to leave. I try following Joe out of the room but I can’t. The door slams in my face so suddenly, I’m sure Marley and EE will hear it and wonder what’s going on. But somehow, the two girls don’t even notice.
This is awful.
I turn to face them, and suddenly it’s the next day and I’m somewhere else. Still at Marley’s house, but now in her living room. So crazy! Sunlight pours in through the window. Marley and I are on the floor of her living room watching some sitcom on Disney Channel.
I remember what I was thinking the first time I watched. How come dads on TV never leave their families? How come everything always seems so funny and cozy and bright? People are full of cheer and everyone always knows exactly what to say. This depiction of family life is the polar opposite of my reality.
Suddenly the doorbell rings. Joe answers, and it’s my mom. She’s come back to pick up EE.
“I don’t want to go,” EE says, scowling.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweetie. We have to, though.” My mom fidgets, like simply existing is painful for her.
“Stay for dinner,” Joe says, stepping close to my mom, warmth and sympathy reflected in his eyes.
“But it’s Christmas Eve,” my mom replies. “You must be busy.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, which is our point, exactly,” says Dave, coming into the room. He gives my mom a hug. “You should be with loved ones today. Your favorite neighbors.”
“Please can we stay for dinner?” EE be
gs.
“Don’t you have family coming?” my mom asks.
“Yes, our parents and my brother and his kids are on their way, but that’s no reason to leave. They’d love to see you,” Dave says. “Please, don’t rush off. Sit down, have a glass of wine. And stay with us. You two are the closest thing we have to family here.”
“Well, okay,” my mom says, sitting down on the living room couch. Dave joins her and Joe rushes off to the kitchen to get her a drink.
EE and Marley cheer and they grab hands and rush off to Marley’s room. They’ve got stuff to do.
I start to trail them but change my mind. I know where they are going, what they will talk about. Why not stick around and hear the grown-ups for a change?
“So, how are you?” asks Joe, handing my mom her wine.
She sighs and stares into her glass. “You know,” she replies, sounding so defeated.
“I thought you guys were going to wait until after Christmas to tell Ellie about the divorce,” Dave says in a low voice.
“That was the plan,” my mom says with a shrug. “But you know Nick. He’s impulsive. Couldn’t wait.”
“I’m so sorry,” says Joe, now sitting at her other side. “Maybe he’ll come back?”
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. It’s actually terrible. A disaster. But I suppose it was inevitable. I knew the split was going to happen eventually, so why not now? Maybe it’s better this way because the worst is over. Rather than agonize over how to break the news to Ellie, well, we’ve simply ripped the Band-Aid off.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Dave says sadly.
My mom nods, bites her bottom lip and starts to tear up. “The thing is, though. I’m scared he’s going to ruin Christmas for Ellie forever.”
“Ellie will be fine,” says Joe. “She’s strong and she has a great head on her shoulders. Plus, she has you as her mom and Marley as her best friend. And us.”
My mom smiles, grateful. “You guys are the best. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Suddenly the doorbell rings.
“Oh, that must be your company. We should get going.” My mom tries to stand up but Joe puts his hand on her shoulder.
“No,” he says gently.
Dave agrees. “We already talked about this. You shouldn’t be alone tonight, plus we really want you to stay,” he says.
“It’s true, and you’ll be doing me a huge favor because we have way too much food,” says Joe.
“If you are both sure about that,” my mom tells them.
“We already set places for you at the dinner table,” says Dave.
Joe opens the front door to reveal all four of Marley’s grandparents. Marley and EE wander into the living room to say hello. Their hair is in matching French braids and they both have glitter on their cheeks. Marley gives everyone big hugs, and EE stays close to her mom, both of them standing off to the side, watching the reunion and feeling somewhat awkward and out of place. I’d met Marley’s extended family before, a bunch of times, but tonight feels different.
There is cheer and laughter and bustle in this house, and as much as EE wants to enjoy it, she is not in the mood, cannot be a part of it. She feels like an imposter.
Dave’s parents go by Oma and Opa and they are from Chicago. Both are roundish with billowy tufts of white hair that remind me of cotton candy. Joe’s parents are Fred and Rita. They are tall and skinny and freckly, like Joe, and they are visiting from Toronto. The four of them met at the airport and rented a van. Traffic was bad, Opa informs everyone, but both flights got in on time.
The grandparents peel off their coats. Dave hangs them in the coat closet, one by one.
Opa asks if he can help with anything. Rita pulls a box of chocolates from her purse and says, “I brought dessert.”
“Mom, I made three desserts,” says Joe. “I told you not to bring anything.”
“Well you can never have too much,” she replies.
“Oh, wait until you see what’s coming,” Dave tells her. “It’s a feast.”
“As it should be,” says Oma. “It’s Christmas Eve, and our whole family is here together.”
I am struck, yet again, at how everyone in Marley’s family gets along. They are one big, happy family.
I look to EE, who is watching in awe. I know what she’s thinking—I remember. And I’m thinking the same thing right now. Things are never like this in my house. My mom is an only child and both her parents died when I was a baby. I don’t even remember them. And my dad isn’t close to his family. It’s always been just the three of us.
As soon as they get settled, with their luggage in bedrooms, the doorbell rings again and it’s Dave’s twin brother, Lloyd, his wife, Jenny, and their girls—Alice, who is seventeen, and Annie, who is fifteen. Marley’s cousins both have long blond hair and green eyes and cell phones with pink, jewel-encrusted cases. They are confident and self-possessed. It adds up to a glamorous picture. These high school girls impress me. I want to be in their orbit, but I am too shy to actually speak to them.
Everyone gathers around the dinner table. As promised, extra places have been set. I sit down on a folding chair next to Marley.
Oma says, “Ellie, where is your father tonight?”
“Out of town,” my mom says quickly.
“On Christmas Eve?” Rita asks. “That’s terrible, the poor man, not able to be with his family tonight. I hope he’ll make it back by the morning?”
“It’s fine, Mom,” Dave says, shooting her a look.
Suddenly awkwardness has enveloped the entire room and it’s too much for my eight-year-old self.
“My parents are getting a divorce,” EE blurts out.
Her voice isn’t even that loud, but everyone hears. I can tell because suddenly there is silence.
“She’s right,” my mom says with a shrug. Her eyes narrow for the briefest of seconds as she swipes away a tear. She breathes in deeply through her nose and blinks.
“Oh, that’s so sad,” Oma says, reaching out to my mom and squeezing her arm. “I’m truly sorry, dear.”
“Ellie and her mom are strong. Don’t worry about them,” says Dave. “They’ll be great.”
No one says anything for a few moments. Everyone simply stares. Even Annie and Alice glance up from their phones to watch. The silence is awkward and horrible. Anything anyone says is awkward and horrible. This whole moment is excruciating with a capital E.
Dinner is quiet. Marley tries to joke with EE, but EE is clearly close to tears.
She can’t enjoy the ham, the mashed potatoes, the kale salad. She can’t even enjoy the amazing desserts that Joe has made: strawberry shortcake, chocolate mousse with fresh berries and homemade whipped cream, and pumpkin cheesecake with a gingersnap crust. He’s outdone himself.
“Everything is delicious,” says Opa, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “I am so happy we’re here together.”
“Me too,” says Dave, holding up his glass. “Thank you for joining us, Ellie and Lindsay.”
“Thank you. It’s been wonderful. But we should get going,” says my mom, pushing back her chair.
“No, wait!” says Marley. “We need to open up presents.”
“Doesn’t that happen in the morning?” asks my mom, panicked, for some reason.
Dave clears his throat. “We have a tradition of opening one gift on Christmas Eve.”
“Oh,” my mom says, looking uncomfortable.
“But we don’t have to,” Joe says quickly. “We can wait.”
The grown-ups glance at each other meaningfully, but Marley’s cousins don’t get the message.
“No way. We can’t wait!” says Annie.
“You are right. First we crash your Christmas Eve dinner. Then we try to mess with your wonderful tradition. I’ll run home and get a present.” My mom stands up and smiles wearily. “That’s the beauty of living right across the street.”
EE claps, little baby claps. Her spi
rits lift. There’s a glimmer of happiness in her eyes for the first time that night.
Watching from the wings, I roll my eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up,” I mumble, to no avail.
Once my mom is gone, everyone gets up from the dinner table and gathers around the tree.
I follow them there but keep my distance, sitting in the corner with my back up against the wall.
“We don’t have to wait,” Dave says to his brother.
“Well, okay then.” Lloyd heads to the tree and picks out two flat, identically wrapped packages. He hands them to his kids, Alice and Annie.
The girls rip them open and shriek with happiness.
“What is it?” asks Opa.
“New iPads!” they say, cheering and hugging their parents.
Next the grown-ups exchange some gifts. Dave gives Joe a new stand mixer. Joe gives Dave a new laptop. Oma and Opa get each other sweaters. Rita gets a necklace, and she gives her husband a pair of cashmere-lined gloves.
Marley is squirmy with excitement. “It’s my turn,” she says.
“Well, okay,” says Joe. “Why don’t you get it, Dave. I’m sure Lindsay will be back any minute with Ellie’s.”
Dave nods, rushes out of the living room, and comes back a moment later wheeling something in.
It’s gigantic. And even though it’s wrapped in wrapping paper, it is so obviously a bicycle. The handlebar is poking through so I see that it’s violet, just like she wanted.
EE glances at Marley, who is beaming. She leaps off the couch. Tears off the wrapping. It’s the most beautiful bicycle in the entire universe. Everyone can see that. Marley even got a heart-shaped bell and a pink wire basket.
“I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you. I feel like I’m dreaming,” Marley says.
Just then EE’s mom comes back inside. She offers EE a flat, rectangular gift wrapped in candy cane stripe–style paper and tied with a big silver bow. EE smiles. Sure, she’s a little embarrassed, now being the center of attention. But she’s also happy that it’s finally her turn.
She tears open the package to reveal an arts and crafts set. Paint, brushes, crayons, colored pencils, and a sharpener. She looks up at her mom, expecting more.
Mom shifts uncomfortably on the couch.
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