As we eat, I sit and look around at the green house and gardens by the stand.
“Woodstock in the fall is a great place, isn’t it, Phoebe?” Jim smiles.
“I’m Rosie,” I say, staring at him. “Not Phoebe.”
He looks confused. “I didn’t call you Phoebe, did I, Rosie?”
I nod, frowning.
“I’m sorry, Rosie.” Jim looks upset. “I know who you are. I guess it’s just that I felt so comfortable with you that it was like old times with Phoebe.”
That doesn’t please me.
He continues: “What I’m trying to say is that I feel like you’re my daughter.”
“Like Phoebe.” I’m getting even less pleased.
He shakes his head. “Like my second daughter, Rosie.”
That makes me feel better.
I guess I can forgive him for calling me Phoebe because he felt close to me. It’s kind of like when kids in school call their teachers “Mommy” by mistake. I, of course, called my third-grade teacher “Mindy.”
Jim says, “Look, Rosie. I’m having a wonderful time with you. Please don’t let it be ruined because of my mistake.”
He looks miserable.
Poor Jim. He tries so hard to have everything turn out well and it’s just not going the way he’d like it.
I smile at him and shake his hand. “Pals.”
“Pals.” He grins.
Jim’s had a lot of trouble being a father.
I’m going to try to make it easy for him to be my stepfather.
CHAPTER 22
Study hall . . . .It’s so boring.
One kid’s reading a comic book behind his geometry text.
Another’s playing tic-tac-toe with the kid next to him, on the back of the kid in front of him.
I’m doodling in my notebook, writing in JASON ’N’ ROSIE. Then I write JASON CARSON. Then I think about what if we got married and took each other’s names. All three of his names would end with SON. If I took his name, two out of three would end that way.
I doodle it out on a new sheet of paper:
Someone taps me on the shoulder.
I check out the study hall teacher. He’s busy reading the stock quotations in the newspaper.
Turning around, I take the note that is being passed to me by Janie Gams.
It’s yet another marriage proposal from Garbage Gut.
DEAR ROSIE,
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
DID YOUR MOTHER PACK YOUR
LUNCH FOR YOU TODAY?
G.G.
I write on the bottom of the paper:
DEAR G.G.,
MY HEART BELONGS TO ANOTHER.
HOWEVER, IF MINDY EVER
MAKES LUNCH FOR ME AGAIN,
THEN MY LUNCH BELONGS TO YOU.
R.W.
I pass the note back to Janie, who passes it over to Garbage Gut.
He pretends to eat the note.
Since I’ve met Jason, I’m much more aware of other boys, but even if Jason were not in my life, I seriously doubt that Garbage Gut would be.
The intercom buzzes.
Everyone in the room jumps, afraid that it’s for them and they’ll be in trouble.
That includes the study hall teacher, who’s only trying to hold on till retirement.
It’s for me.
I’m being called to the front office.
I can’t figure out what I did.
Even though I know I haven’t done anything wrong, I’m still nervous. In schools, you’re guilty until you’re proven innocent.
Getting to the front office, I see Mindy standing there, waiting for me.
I hope that nothing terrible’s happened to Jim or Phoebe or my father.
Running up to her, I say, “What’s wrong?”
She’s grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing. Read this.”
She hands me a letter.
I take the envelope that she’s handed me. I pull out the letter and read it.
Mindy’s just sold her first book.
Life does go on.
Hooray for our team.
CHAPTER 23
“My mother, the author.” I raise my orange juice glass to toast Mindy as we sit on the porch of Deanie’s Restaurant.
Mindy clinks her glass to mine. “Your mother, the fibber—who told the school that you had to leave because of an emergency doctor’s appointment.”
“I feel paroled.” I keep grinning. “Oh, Mindy, I’m so proud of you.”
The waitress comes up to take our order. She knows Mindy’s a waitress, too, and she’s really nice to us.
After she leaves, I say, “Can you quit your job now?”
Mindy shakes her head. “Honey, don’t expect too much. First of all, they said they’d buy it, but that I’d have to do revisions. Then it takes at least a year before it gets published, and then maybe some money will start coming in six months after that. I’ll be getting some advance money, which will help pay bills and will put some money in your college fund, but we’re definitely not going to be wealthy . . . .Maybe someday . . . but Rosie, don’t expect it.”
If I’m going to be a writer, I’d better be prepared to have another job too.
Taking a sip of my orange juice, I say, “I thought it would be like winning the lottery.”
“No,” Mindy says, “it doesn’t work that way, but just think—you’ll be able to go into a bookstore and buy Frogs in My Locker by Mindy Kovacs.”
“Won’t you give me a copy?”
“Not only give you a copy but dedicate it to you,” Mindy tells me.
“Oh, Mom.” I love her so much.
She puts her hand on my cheek. “You haven’t called me Mom since you were five years old, came home from kindergarten, and announced that since it was just the two of us, we’d be pals and on a first-name basis.”
We just look at each other for a few minutes, and then I say, “So tell me everything. What happened when you got the letter? . . . What did Jim say?”
She says, “I went out to our mailbox and there it was. I was so scared that it would be another rejection letter. I opened it up right there . . . and then I jumped into my car and went over to Jim’s studio.”
“What did he say?” I ask again.
Since the waitress is bringing us our food, Mindy waits until she leaves and says, “He was excited, sort of. It’s hard . . . I interrupted him in the middle of his painting. I’ve never gone over there while he’s working.”
“But you’ve gone over there with him sometimes at night.”
Mindy blushes. “He’s not painting then.”
Now we’re both blushing. “So was he pleased or not?”
She nods. “Yes. He was. He hugged me and we jumped up and down. Then we talked about what to do with the money. He said it was all mine. I said it was the family’s money. He didn’t say anything.
“I asked if he still considered us a family.” Mindy looks very serious. “It was so hard to talk about. He said that he did, sort of, but he missed Phoebe and wanted her to be part of our family.”
“Sort of!” I can’t believe it. “How can he say that? And how can he be such a big down on the day that your book gets accepted? That sounds like something Phoebe would do.”
Mindy takes my hand. “Rosie. I know this is all very complicated. Jim and Phoebe are alike in some ways. They’re both very self-involved, but Jim is really trying to grow out of it.”
“Why stay with him if he’s like that?” I’m getting upset.
“Do you love Jim?” Mindy says.
“Yes. Most of the time.” I nod. “Even when he sings ‘We’re Off to See the Gizard.’”
“I love him too,” Mindy says. “Rosie, he’s not perfect, but neither am I. We love each other, are able to laugh and have a good time. We can also talk to each other about problems. We try very hard to communicate. That’s more than I can say about a lot of people. Nobody has a perfect relationship.”
“I want to,” I say, thinking of Jason.
Mindy shakes her head. “Honey, don’t expect perfection. It’ll only cause trouble. That’s what happened with your father’s and my marriage. We had unrealistic expectations about what marriage should be and weren’t able to work at making the changes. Now after all those years I’ve finally met someone I want to be with and I’m working harder at it than I ever did. And so is Jim.”
“Is he really working at it?”
“Yes, but Phoebe’s leaving has really hurt him and there are moments when he wonders if he made the right choice or if we should have waited.”
“I hate Phoebe.” I stab at my lunch.
“Try not to.” Mindy shakes her head. “Phoebe’s having a difficult time right now. She’s a person who really needs a structure, and the divorce and her parents’ being with other people has really thrown her for a loop.”
“Other kids don’t act that way.”
“Some do,” Mindy continues. “And I don’t think even when her parents were together that Phoebe was given a strong structure and taught the best way to act.”
“You’re being too nice. She’s really tried to screw things up.” I think of how she acted in Canada too.
Mindy nods. “True. There are days I want to wring her neck . . . and I’m really glad she’s out of the house if she’s going to try to break Jim and me up. But remember last year—she was very lovable, sweet, and fun.”
“I remember. It makes me sad that she’s not like that again.” I can feel tears start even though I don’t think I care anymore.
“It’s a tough time for her,” Mindy says.
“I don’t want to stay home when she comes. Do you think I should?”
“Decide for yourself. There’s no right or wrong,” Mindy says.
I think about it. “I don’t want to see her . . . and I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Let’s talk about the book.”
Mindy smiles. “Honey, you’ve always been so helpful around the house so that I could write. And I appreciate your reading the book and giving me suggestions. So I want to buy something very special for you. Think about what you’d like. Don’t ask for something for someone else. Pick a present for yourself. I want it to be very special so that when you are very old, you can look at it and say, ‘We got that when Mindy sold her first book.’”
“You don’t have to get me anything. I did those things because I wanted to.”
“I’m not doing it because I have to. I’m doing it because I want to,” Mindy tells me.
I think about it. “There’s this fabulous silver mirror at Anne Smith Antiques that I always go in to visit.”
“The one with the beautiful face carved on it?” Mindy and I like a lot of the same things.
“Is it too expensive?” I want to know.
Mindy shrugs. “It’s definitely not cheap . . . but it’s perfect. Let’s go over there after lunch and ask Anne to put it away until my check comes in.”
I’m so excited.
I love that mirror.
I’m so proud of Mindy.
I’m also very glad that she’s brought me up the way she has.
CHAPTER 24
The Little Nerdlet has an imaginary playmate, Berky.
This is a new development.
Mrs. Donner thinks it’s because they’ve just brought home the Little Nerdlet II, actually a Nerdlette, Dawna.
Berky put peanut butter in the Venus flytrap. The plant closed up, wouldn’t reopen, and died. He also wet the Little Nerdlet’s bed and the Little Nerdlet’s parents’ bed.
The Little Nerdlet said he tried to stop Berky but couldn’t.
Mrs. Donner hopes he’ll grow out of it.
I’m not so sure. Donny said Berky was willing to sell Dawna to me.
The Little Nerdlet and I are playing on the swings at Andy Lee Field.
It’s Sunday and there’s a softball league game on the baseball field.
The Little Nerdlet takes Berky up the slide.
As I wait to catch him/them, I look at the guys playing ball. Some of them are kind of cute but none as cute as Jason.
The Little Nerdlet comes down the slide.
I catch him.
I forget to catch Berky though.
The Little Nerdlet picks up his friend and tells me to check for boo-boos.
It’s a little embarrassing to dust off an imaginary playmate.
“Kiss the boo-boo,” the Little Nerdlet orders me.
I refuse.
The Little Nerdlet cries.
I kiss the boo-boo.
“Hi, Rosie.”
It’s Phoebe. Dave is with her.
The Little Nerdlet puts his arms around her left leg and kisses her kneecap.
“I could be very jealous of this kid,” Dave says.
I don’t know what to say. Folding my arms across my chest, I just stand there.
“Can we talk?” Phoebe asks.
“About what?”
“Please,” Phoebe says. “Dave will watch Donny.”
“And Berky,” the Little Nerdlet informs her.
“Berky?” Phoebe asks.
I put my arm around “Berky.” “This is Donny’s new friend.”
Phoebe smiles at me and I smile back. It’s the first time since our trip to Canada that anything nice has happened between us.
“Okay.” I nod. “But Dave has to take Donny and Berky.”
“Come on, guys. Let’s go,” Dave says.
Off they go. Dave is Donny’s idol. He’ll follow him anywhere.
I keep my arms folded across my chest and just stand here.
“You’re not going to make it easy to talk, are you?” Phoebe says quietly.
“Should I?” My voice is ice.
Phoebe looks like she’s going to leave, but doesn’t.
I stare at her.
“Yes,” she says. “Maybe not easy but possible. I’m here to talk about what’s happened—how I feel—how I miss you.”
“How about how I feel? Does that count? Or are we only supposed to talk about you?” I continue to stare at her.
“Both of us should talk.” She sighs. “Rosie, I don’t want to beg for this talk.”
“You’re the one who walked out on the family,” I tell her.
“And I’m the one who’s trying to walk back in, and you won’t even discuss it. You’re the one who says you want a family . . . but you want one without any problems.”
“That’s not true.” I defend myself.
“Yes, it is.” She accuses me.
Maybe she’s not totally wrong, but is it a crime because I want it that way?
She continues. “I want us to try to work things out as a family.”
“All of a sudden we’re a family again.” I frown. “Things must be really terrible in New York.”
Neither of us says anything.
I go over to the swings and sit down.
Phoebe stays where she is.
So now she wants to come home. Am I supposed to jump up and down and applaud? Have her come home and be the center of attention all the time by being a problem? What does she want from me? Sainthood?
Who cares?
I do. “Phoebe, come sit on the swings. Let’s talk.”
Phoebe sits down on the swing next to me and starts to cry.
I hate it when she cries.
“Rosie, everything’s so messed up.” She continues to cry. “I haven’t been really happy for so long.”
“You could have been happy if you’d stayed here,” I tell her.
“No,” she says. “It’s been hard since even before my parents’ divorce.”
Mindy was right.
The tears are rolling down Phoebe’s face. “I just got used to Dad and me in Woodstock and then he started to spend all that time with Mindy and I felt left out. And my mother married Duane and I felt like she didn’t have much time for me. Then when we went to Canada, you met Jason and didn’t have time for me.”
“But you have Dave,” I tell her. “And every
one does care about you and spend time with you.”
“I guess I just need a lot.” Phoebe wipes the tears off with her sleeve. “And I hate living with Duane. He really doesn’t like me, and Mom’s off at work a lot. It’s so hard. Here I have people who really do care, but there’s not much to do. In New York I love all the stuff to do, but I don’t have the people.”
“So you do know how Mindy and Jim feel about you.”
Phoebe nods. “I do now.”
I start to swing a little.
So does Phoebe.
“I miss Dave so much, and I miss you too.” Phoebe looks at me.
We don’t say anything for a while but try to work it out so that the swings go the same way and the same speed.
“Are you moving back?” I ask.
Phoebe says, “I talked to Dad and Mindy about it. They said it’s okay with them if I’m willing to make changes and to get some counseling.”
“Are you?”
She nods. “Yes. I hate being this miserable, and I think it’ll help me. Mom asked me to stay until Christmas, at least, so that we can continue to try to work out our relationship. I said yes because I want things to be better with her too.”
“And then you’ll come back?” I want to know.
“Yes. If it’s okay with you. I don’t want us to have big problems anymore. And you wouldn’t have to share a room this time. Mindy says that now that she’s got some money she’ll rent an office in town and I can move into her house office.”
“She said she’d give up her office?” I’m amazed.
“She said she was doing it for you, not for me.”
“Wow.” I stop the swing. “Mindy’s going to do that? If you come back, will you be nicer to Mindy? And work on our being a family?”
Phoebe stops her swing. “I’ll really try.”
I get off the swing and hold my arms out. “Welcome home.”
We hug each other.
I’m beginning to realize that being a family doesn’t mean that everything goes smoothly . . . and that maybe I shouldn’t even expect it to. I also am beginning to see that there can be love even if there’s not always like.
CHAPTER 25
Christmas Eve in Woodstock. It’s the most special time and place in the world.
This year’s even more wonderful because Jason’s here.
It's an Aardvark-Eat-Turtle World Page 8