by Lou Aronica
Miea’s face stiffened. “That’s not possible.”
“It could be.”
At that moment, Sorbus returned. Becky hoped he was just coming to take the tray away, but he said, “Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting, but Minister Thuja is here to see you.”
Miea’s expression darkened and she put down her cup. “Thuja himself?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. He says he has a report he wants to deliver personally.”
Miea took a moment to gather herself and then she nodded. “Tell him I’ll be right there.” She turned to Becky. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to find out why Minister Thuja is here.”
Becky had no idea what this was about, but anyone could have guessed that it wasn’t good. “Of course. Should I just leave?” Becky realized she had no idea how to get back to her room on her own.
“Stay here as long as you like. Sorbus can have someone show you around if you’re interested. I won’t be back until late this evening. My leisure time is officially over for the day.”
“I appreciate your spending it with me.”
Miea smiled kindly and reached out a hand. Becky held it for a moment.
“I’m very glad I could,” Miea said. “It was a true pleasure.” The queen nodded toward the door. “I’m afraid I can’t keep the minister waiting.”
With that, she turned and left. It was fascinating to see how quickly Miea had jumped when Sorbus told her the minister was here. There had to be some kind of problem. Becky couldn’t recall a Minister Thuja, so she didn’t know what he was minister of.
She sipped the remainder of her drink and stood to go find Sorbus. She wouldn’t mind spending some more time in the garden, or maybe even going out to see Tamarisk City. But as she took her first step, she felt herself being pulled in the other direction.
Almost instantly, she was back in her room. Feeling jolted, she sat up quickly, almost like waking from a shocking dream. Doing so made the room lurch and the dizziness caused her to lie back down again. Her head continued to spin.
That was the last thing she remembered doing that night.
11
Becky’s Instant Messenger chimed again and she glanced over at her computer. monsterjam18? Who was that? She tried to think of who she knew with that screen name and her brain flashed through dozens and dozens of friends and associates. Finally, it landed on a guy she met a few months ago at Kayla and Matt’s. Cute. Sophomore. Extremely tall. He seemed nice enough and they’d IM’d a couple of times, but something just didn’t feel right about him. Maybe it was the screen name. monsterjam18. Not exactly her type.
For easily the thirtieth time today, Becky thought back on her conversation last night with Miea. What would the queen think of Mr. Monster Jam? Probably that he wasn’t king material. She would definitely be right about that. But what about the guy Miea was once in love with? Becky really wished she could have talked to her about that longer. Miea seemed so sad when she brought up her old boyfriend. There was definitely some excess baggage there, some stuff she needed to take care of. Maybe when Becky got to know her a little better Miea would open up more. Maybe Becky could even help her deal with it. She was great at helping Lonnie through her various boy-related crises, though she guessed that Miea’s was just a tiny bit more serious than anything Lonnie had gone through so far.
Becky looked back down at her history book. She was having a tough time concentrating tonight. She was feeling a little queasy, which was almost definitely because of the kielbasa Al made for dinner tonight. He could make toast taste bad, which was pretty funny, since he liked to eat so much. She really should have offered to cook since Mom wasn’t going to be around. Or suggested they go out for pizza or something. Or maybe even suggested that she spend the night at her dad’s instead. Al was great, but Dad was her father; didn’t it make more sense for her to be with him when her mother wasn’t around? Then she could have gone to Tamarisk and maybe had another chance to have a good talk with Miea.
All day, Becky wished she could have another taste of barritts, feel the softness of payette, or hear a symphony played by dozens of norbecks. She was missing Tamarisk terribly today, more than she had before. The more time she spent in the place, the more time she wanted to spend there. It made her senses tingle. It made her want to explore and discover. If only she could go there whenever she wanted. Maybe dash off for a quick visit during homeroom. Her body stayed here anyway; it would just seem like she was preoccupied.
She shook her head briskly. Time to return to planet Earth, Beck. She needed to focus on her homework, get her head into the industrial revolution. This Saturday night, when she next slept at her dad’s, she might have the opportunity to run through the fields of Jonrae or mill through the shopping arcades of Pinzon. What was definite, though, was that she was going to have a history test fourth period tomorrow. While that wasn’t anywhere near as appealing as the kingdom congress, she needed to give it all of her attention. She logged out of Instant Messenger—monsterjam18 would be devastated for all of four minutes—and started studying again.
About an hour later, her mother knocked on the door and stuck her head in.
“Hey, hon.”
“Hey, Mom,” Becky said, swiveling in her chair. Mom came in and kissed her on the forehead. “Did you have a good dinner?”
“The girls are great. It’s always good to see them. We caught up on all the latest. Denise’s daughter is dating a biker and Denise smelled alcohol on her breath the other night.” Mom leaned over and kissed Becky again. “You should be glad I go to these dinners every now and then. It reminds me how lucky I am.”
Becky grinned. “Gee, Mom, you’d think you wouldn’t need to be reminded.”
“I don’t, really. But this reminder comes with margaritas as a bonus. Everything okay tonight?”
“Yeah, everything was great. I’ve been up here studying.”
“Was Al’s dinner edible?”
“It was right up there with his best.” Becky grinned to make sure her mother knew what she was saying.
Mom hugged her around the shoulders. “I really would leave something for the two of you when I go out, but he got so offended the first time I did that. He really thinks he can cook. Sorry, Beck, but I don’t want to break his heart.”
Becky waved a hand. “No big deal. I’m sure I’ll survive. There was plenty of Pepcid in the medicine cabinet.”
Mom sat on the edge of Becky’s bed, which meant she intended to stay for a while. “So I haven’t really seen you since yesterday afternoon. I’ll need to adjust to this new Tuesday/Wednesday schedule. How were things with your father last night?”
“They were really good.”
“He got you to bed at a reasonable hour?”
Becky rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“And he got you to school on time?”
“Mom, Dad’s a grown-up, too.”
Mom seemed for a second like she wanted to debate the point, but then she simply said, “I know he is. But your routine is important. He’s not used to doing this, and I don’t want you getting in trouble because your father can’t get himself out of the house.”
“Actually, he had to wait for me and I got to school ten minutes early.”
“And he just dropped you off there? Did you have to stand around outside?”
Becky laughed. “He waited with me, Mom. This is going to be fine.”
Mom sighed. “I’m sure it will be. Did you sleep okay? You don’t always sleep well there.”
“I slept great. I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling so good.”
That probably wasn’t the best thing to say.
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I just slept really well and I saw some great things and I had a really interesting talk with Miea and—” As soon as the words were out of Becky’s mouth, she couldn’t believe she’d said them.
“Maya? Who’s Maya? Does your father have
a new girlfriend? If he does, it would have been nice to let me know that he was going to be introducing her to you.”
Mom hadn’t told Dad about Al until they’d been together for months, but that wasn’t the point. “Dad doesn’t have a new girlfriend.”
“Then who is Maya?”
“It’s nothing.”
Mom looked at her suspiciously for a moment and then looked off, as if she were trying to remember something. “Miea was the name of the princess in that Tamarisk thing you used to do with your father, wasn’t it?
Becky was surprised her mother even remembered that. “Yes, it is.”
Mom leaned closer. She seemed to get taller when she did. “He hasn’t convinced you to do that again, has he?”
Becky pulled back. “Dad’s not involved with this. Except that I need the bed in my room there.”
Mom screwed her face up. “What?”
You always tell me you don’t want us to have secrets between us, Mom , Becky thought, plunging forward because she couldn’t think of anything else to do. “You are not going to believe this,” she said ultraenthusiastically. “I’ve figured out a way to go to Tamarisk.”
Mom leaned back. “Really.”
“Really. I can only do it from the bed in Dad’s apartment, though. That’s one of the reasons I wanted the extra night there.”
“So you could travel to Tamarisk.”
Becky smiled broadly. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“That’s not exactly the word I would have used. Hon, you do realize that Tamarisk is a make-believe place that you made up when you were a little kid, right?”
“Yeah, I thought the same thing. But it’s real.”
Mom stood up and headed toward the door, patting Becky on the shoulder as she passed. “Either I’ve had too many margaritas or your father slipped something into your dessert last night. One of us is definitely not thinking clearly.”
She stopped at the doorway, looked at Becky, and shook her head disapprovingly. Then she turned and went downstairs.
Becky wanted to smash her head against the wall. She couldn’t believe she’d done something as stupid as simply blurting out Miea’s name. Then she was dumb enough to compound it by telling her mother she traveled to Tamarisk. Almost anything would have been better, but she couldn’t think of anything while they were talking.
Still, Mom didn’t have to look at her like she was a mental patient when she said it. Yes, she could understand how it might sound a little weird—okay, a lot weird—but Becky wasn’t the kind of person who said weird things on a daily basis. Shouldn’t she get a little credit? And couldn’t her mother consider the possibility—even for a second—that Tamarisk might just be real?
At least Dad believed her. He didn’t think she was out of her mind. Her mom never understood stuff like Tamarisk.
Maybe Mom really would chalk the whole thing up to the margaritas. Maybe she’d even think she imagined the whole conversation. Fat chance. She was probably downstairs right now telling Al how her daughter had completely lost her mind.
Note to self: remember to use brains in the future. Becky would make sure not to mention Tamarisk to Mom again. Maybe this would just go away. After all, there was at least a tiny chance Mom would forget about the whole thing.
Chris’s mind kept drifting back to geometry. Helping Becky with her homework last night had revitalized a long-dormant part of his brain. If he could again calculate the surface area of a sphere, could he also remember how to calculate a prism and a trapezoid? What about volumes and perimeters? He wondered what kind of math homework Becky had tonight. Had she needed his help? She didn’t mention it when they spoke on the phone, but he should have let her know his consultation line was open twenty-four hours a day just in case.
Chris put down the book he was reading, the one he’d started last night when Becky asked him to be quiet so she could “concentrate.” The novel began promisingly, but the last several chapters had failed to hold his attention. There was a time in Chris’s life when he’d felt the need to finish every book he started, even if he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t feel that way any longer. If this one didn’t kick in again after another chapter, he was shelving it.
There was no sound in the apartment. Last night at this time, Becky and he were remembering the scariest scenes from The Sixth Sense as they watched “I Love the ’90s.” It capped the best weeknight he’d had in a while. It was odd that something as average as watching TV with your daughter on a Tuesday could be considered a highlight, but it was the very averageness of it that made it so. He had been missing this; that much he had known already. He just didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he had a taste of it again.
Chris heard the metaphorical clock ticking ever louder. To him, parenting was a bell curve of milestones. When your child is born, each of her accomplishments seem to supersede the one before, and each makes you feel increasingly connected to her. Simple biological need gives way to interaction, which gives way to play, which gives way to meaningful conversation, and so on. The relationship deepens with each stage. At some point, though, you reach the top of the curve. Your child continues to grow, to become a fuller and more substantial human being, but your association with these events becomes more distant. She has meaningful conversations with her friends instead of you. She learns critical life lessons away from the house. She interacts more fully with the world and considerably less with you. She looks to her future and sees a place where you are something just slightly more elevated than a number on her speed dial. Of course, if you are divorced from her mother and only see her on Tuesdays and weekends, you descend the downside of the curve even faster.
The day Becky started high school, Chris started thinking about her going to college. Now, her freshman year was nearly finished. When it was, she would only have three years remaining before she left for good. She’d be home for the holidays and summers, but these would be nothing more than extended visits. Then, after she graduated college, who knew where she would wind up and how often he would see her?
There should be more of a warning signal that you’re approaching the top of the curve and that you’re about to head down, Chris thought. If I’d known how close I was, I would have done something—I don’t know what—to mark the occasion.
He couldn’t pinpoint when he’d hit the top of the curve with Becky, though he had a good idea. Was it the day he left the house? Was it a few months before or after? All he knew was that he was well along the slide down. When he reached the bottom, she would be gone. He couldn’t imagine that he’d be any more prepared for this event three years from now than he was today.
Still, there was last night. Maybe all Tuesdays would be like that in the future. Maybe it was something to build on. Maybe life with your child wasn’t a bell curve, but a waveform instead. Maybe you got to go back up again.
He went to the kitchen to rinse the night’s dishes and put them into the dishwasher, something he hadn’t been in the mood to do when he’d finished dinner. He’d nearly had a bagel tonight, but forced himself to prepare a meal instead. It was a challenge because he was alone, but he felt compelled to meet it, in the same way that he felt it important to make the bed every morning even though no one other than he would see it messy.
The phone rang. He turned off the faucet and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“You really must be kidding me.”
Polly’s “brusque” voice was unmistakable. It was the one he most closely associated with her. “What am I kidding you about?”
“You have your daughter—your fourteen-year-old pubescent daughter—talking about that fairy-tale world again?”
Becky had told Polly about Tamarisk? What was she thinking? “What part of that do you have a problem with?”
“What part of that do I have a problem with? Let’s see, maybe it’s the part about you not realizing your baby has grown up. Or maybe it’s the part about your being so desperate to
get any of your daughter’s affection that you would exploit her sentiments. Or maybe it’s that you have her so caught up in this that she actually thinks she’s having conversations with elves and fairies.”
“Is that really what bothers you, Polly?”
“You don’t think that should bother me?”
Chris hesitated a second. He needed to slow the conversation down, to gain some traction. “I don’t think that’s the issue.”
“Really. What do you think the issue is?”
“I think the issue is last night.”
Polly’s voice rose again. “You bet your ass the issue is last night. I spoke to Becky a little while ago and she told me that she’s traveling to Tamarisk from your apartment. You don’t think that I should find this a tiny bit upsetting?”
There was no hesitation this time. “I think what’s bothering you is that she was here at all last night. After four years—four years in which you never did anything to clarify for our daughter that it was you who broke up our marriage—she has finally made a small step back in my direction, and that kills you.”
There was a bitter laugh on the other end of the phone. “You really do think everything is about that, don’t you? You really think that everything is about how jealous I was of the two of you and how I deliberately removed you from her life. Grow up, Chris.”
Chris fought to control the tone of his voice. He didn’t want Polly to think she was getting to him. “You know what? I was half expecting this call. I didn’t know what it was going to be about, but I assumed you’d find some way to suggest that I was ill equipped to have Becky here during the week.”
“If you’re brainwashing her with that Tamarisk crap and you have her so deluded that she thinks she’s traveling to other worlds in her dreams, then you’re ill equipped, period.”
Chris felt his blood rise. “Was that some kind of threat?”
Polly didn’t respond immediately. “Chris, I don’t need to threaten you. When Becky figures out what you’re doing—and she’ll figure it out all on her own— she will never be able to look at you the same way again. You might want to think about that before you take this any further.”