by Clare Hutton
Inside, Grandma paused and looked around. Trying to see it through her eyes, Emma realized how much had changed. The last time Grandma Stephenson had been here, most of the downstairs had been under construction.
Now, the wooden floors were polished and shining. The rooms had been repainted, the living room in a soft gold, the halls white, and the dining room in a light blue. They weren’t fully furnished yet, but there were chairs and tables here and there, and you could get the idea of where things would be.
“Awesome!” Tomás shouted. He kicked off his shoes, then ran and slid across the wide empty floorboards of the living room.
“Me, too! Tomás, wait!” Mateo followed him.
“The new bedrooms won’t be finished for a while,” Aunt Alison said. She looked nervous, her gaze flicking back and forth from Grandma Stephenson to the newly changed rooms. “But we thought that if we get the public rooms up and running first, we’ll be able to start hosting events—weddings and parties and that sort of thing—while we’re finishing the guest rooms.”
“We’re going to move the piano in here,” Emma’s mom said, gesturing at a corner of the living room. “It’ll be nice to have some music when the guests are mingling.” Her voice was high and quick, as if she, too, was nervous. Both moms were watching Grandma eagerly for a reaction.
“Well, I think it looks lovely,” Abuelita said warmly. “I never realized what a gorgeous view of the bay you got from these windows, Julia. Getting rid of those heavy drapes lets us see it.”
Grandma nodded slowly. “It certainly is brighter in here now,” she said.
“I think it looks great,” Zoe added loyally. “And it still feels like Seaview House, even though it’s different. It’s like the face of the house is the same, but it’s wearing different makeup.”
Leaning on her cane, Grandma walked into the dining room. “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “All these little tables.”
“Mom and I painted those ourselves,” Emma told her. “We liked all the pretty colors. Aren’t they cute?” But Emma saw that Grandma Stephenson’s eyes looked a little red around the corners, as if she might be holding back tears. “Is it okay?” she asked. “I know it’s different than before …” Emma trailed off. Her mom and Aunt Alison had worked so hard. And it did look good, Emma thought. But different—definitely different. She bit her lip. It would be terrible if Grandma hated what they’d done to Seaview House.
Grandma brushed a hand across her eyes and gave a little laugh. “Of course I like it,” she said shakily. “It’s just a change is all.”
“And change can be good, right?” Emma said, still worried. “That’s what we decided, isn’t it?”
Grandma’s face softened, and she looked around the dining room again. “Yes,” she said softly. “And these little tables are very charming.”
“And what about where your family is going to live, Amy?” Grandma asked Emma’s mom.
“Well, it’s all the way up at the top of the house, you know,” Emma’s mom said, frowning. “It might be too hard a climb.”
“Nonsense, I’m not too feeble to get around my own house yet,” Grandma said, her chin coming forward like Natalia’s did when she wasn’t going to give in on something.
Instead of taking the secret staircase, they went up the front stairs because they were wider and not as steep and had big landings to rest on. Grandma Stephenson climbed with an air of determination, one hand on the banister, the other firmly on her cane, which she steadied herself on each time she climbed a step. The little boys ran on ahead, but Zoe, Emma, and their moms kept pace with Grandma’s slow progress.
Abuelita fussed along behind her. “Be careful, Julia,” she said. “It’s such a long way.”
“This might take me a while, but I’m not going to fall, Rosa,” Grandma Stephenson said grimly. “I’m stiff, not wobbly.”
Upstairs, Grandma peeked into the half-finished rooms and admired how the apartment had been built out of empty attic space. It was still mostly unfurnished, but Emma had decided on the big bed with the drawers underneath, and her mom had moved it into her room the day before.
“It looks great, Mom,” Emma said, pleased. She felt like the bed gave the room a cozy feel, even though it wasn’t furnished yet otherwise.
“I always liked that bed,” Grandma told her. “It used to be in the spare room when I was growing up, and my mother had it put up in the attic because she hated bending down to the drawers.”
“I don’t mind bending down,” Emma said.
“They’re big drawers,” Tomás said thoughtfully. “Do you think we could fit Mateo in one?”
“Please don’t try,” Aunt Alison said, shepherding the little boys out of Emma’s room.
“It’s going to be fun to have you all living in Seaview House,” Grandma said, gazing around the apartment.
Downstairs again, Aunt Alison herded everyone back into the dining room just as Natalia burst in the front door.
“I saw your note when I got home from service club,” she said cheerfully. “I am starving. Feed me.”
“If you all want to sit down, Amy and I have some samples of hors d’oeuvres for you.” Aunt Alison smoothed her skirt down over her hips and headed for the kitchen, followed by Emma’s mom.
A few minutes later, Aunt Alison and Emma’s mom reappeared, carrying several platters of little finger foods.
“We’re thinking we might have a cocktail hour at the B and B,” Emma’s mom explained. “Give the guests a nice snack and some wine before they head out for dinner.”
Emma looked at the platter her mom put down in the center of the table. “These look really good,” she said, “but I thought Dad was going to do the cooking for the B and B.”
“He is,” her mom said without looking at her, carefully filling small plates for the little boys. “But he’s not here yet. And we wanted to figure out some ideas.”
“He’s coming before the B and B opens, right?” Zoe asked, with a glance at Emma.
“Of course he is,” Aunt Alison told her firmly. She turned to Grandma Stephenson. “Try these, Mom; they’re mushroom and feta. And the mini quiches have spinach in them.”
“Ew!” Tomás said, sliding out of his chair. “Come on, Mateo.” Mateo made a face and followed Tomás out into the living room. After a minute, Emma could hear the swish and thump of the boys sliding across the floor.
“There’s these tiny fruit tarts, too,” Aunt Alison called after them. “I think you’ll like these—”
“Too late, you lost them,” Zoe said, reaching for a fruit tart.
Emma bit into one of the mushroom-feta things, which was encased in crisp golden pastry. “This is good,” she said. “But not as good as what Dad makes.” Her mother’s lips tightened, and Emma wished she could take it back. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. Her chest felt tight.
Her mom’s face softened. “No, it’s fine. We want your honest opinions. We’re going to be serving them to people who don’t already love us.” She patted Emma’s knee. “Don’t worry, you’re helping.”
“On the other hand, the fruit tarts are amazing,” Zoe said, reaching for another. “I could eat, like, ten of these.”
There was a pause in the conversation, a pause full of munching and lots of appreciative noises, and then Grandma Stephenson asked, “And how is school going, girls?”
Zoe shrugged. “Same old, same old,” she said.
“How about you, Emma?” Aunt Alison asked.
Emma swallowed her bite of fruit tart. Zoe was right, they were delicious. “We three and Caitlin are all working on a Catherine, Called Birdy project for English class,” she said.
“With Caitlin?” her mom asked, reaching for one of the cheesy things. “That’s the girl who was picking on you, right? You’re friends with her now?”
“Sort of,” Emma said slowly. The real answer was No, but I hope we can learn to tolerate each other, but she didn’t want to say that in front of Natalia.
“
She’s just jealous of Emma,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes. “She’ll get over it.”
Natalia crossed her arms defensively. “Caitlin’s a good person. We’ve been friends for a long time; I think she just worries that I’m not going to be as good friends with her if I’m hanging out with Emma.”
“Like I said,” Zoe said. “Jealous.”
“That’s not okay,” Aunt Alison said, frowning. “I’m surprised at Caitlin. Maybe I should call her mother.”
“Please don’t,” Emma groaned. “I’m handling it.” She explained her plan. “She’s just worried that I’m taking her place with Natalia. If we can all work together, she’ll see she doesn’t need to worry.” And maybe I can bring Zoe and Natalia together at school, she thought, but didn’t say.
Emma’s mom looked at her dubiously. “Are you sure?”
“Emma’s right,” Zoe broke in. “She’s doing the perfect thing. No adults needed.” Emma smiled at her cousin, grateful for the support, and Zoe grinned back.
“Children need to learn to handle this kind of thing by themselves,” Grandma Stephenson said. Taking hold of her cane, she began to slowly get to her feet again. “And I would like a fork for this little tart. It’s very tasty, but it’s going to make my hands sticky.”
“I’ll get it for you, Mom,” Aunt Alison said, jumping to her feet, but Grandma shook her head.
“Nonsense,” she said. “You may have put a fancy new stove in my kitchen, but I assume the silverware drawer is still in the same place.”
“You sit right back down, Julia,” Abuelita said, bouncing to her feet. “After that long climb up and down the stairs, you need to take it easy for a while. I will get you a fork.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Grandma Stephenson said indignantly, but Abuelita was already heading for the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind her, Grandma turned to the others with such an exaggerated grimace that Emma couldn’t help laughing.
“She waits on me hand and foot,” Grandma hissed in a whisper. “It’s driving me insane.”
“She’s just trying to help, Mom,” Emma’s mom said.
“I’m aware of that.” Grandma dropped back into her seat and sighed. “She’s really very kind.”
“Maybe it’s like me and Caitlin,” Emma said thoughtfully. There was something about the way Abuelita spoke up whenever Grandma tried to do something.
“Oh, no,” Emma’s mom said. “Emma, Abuelita’s just overprotective. She doesn’t want her to get hurt again.”
“I know that,” Emma said. She tried to put her thoughts into words. “But it’s like … Abuelita was used to being the only grandmother in the house. Then, when Grandma Stephenson moved in, she wasn’t so sure of her place anymore. So she makes herself more important by taking care of Grandma, even more than Grandma needs. She’s not being mean at all. But it’s coming a little bit from the same place as Caitlin’s meanness to me.”
“Interesting,” Grandma said. “You know, you could be right.”
“Maybe she needs something to do so she knows how important she is,” Emma said. “I mean, I really do think Caitlin’s going to have good ideas for our project. She has lots of experience with performing, so a class presentation like this seems right up her alley. I’m hoping that I can find a way to make her see that.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Abuelita came back in. “Found one!” she said brightly. “Now you just take it easy, Julia. Can I get you one of these cheesy things? Have you tried them?”
Grandma shot Emma a smile. “Thank you,” she said, half to Abuelita, half to Emma. “I think I will try it.”
Back in the library the next day, Caitlin stared at Emma coolly, twirling a pen between her fingers.
With an inward sigh, Emma smiled at her. “How are you?” she asked.
Caitlin shrugged. “Okay,” she said. She didn’t ask how Emma was.
“So you’ve done community theater, right?” Emma tried again, opening her own notebook.
“Yeah,” said Caitlin, looking surprised and suspicious.
“I was thinking that maybe we could do a scene from the book,” Emma said. “Since you can act, it might be the most fun thing to do.”
Natalia and Zoe joined them just then, each clutching an armload of books.
“That’s a great idea!” Natalia said, overhearing Emma.
“Sounds like fun,” Zoe said. “I could make a backdrop to hang up that looks like a medieval house.”
“I guess we could,” Caitlin said coldly, still fiddling with her pen.
“I don’t know a lot about theater, though,” Emma said to her. “Is there a place in the book that would make a good scene?”
“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, still sounding unfriendly, but she was turning the pages of the book and looked more interested than she sounded. Emma waited.
“We could combine a bunch of scenes into one,” Caitlin said finally. “All these suitors who are all doing things like wiping their noses on the tablecloth or being totally pompous. And she does different things to get rid of them.” She finally raised her head and made eye contact with Emma again, although there was a nasty glint in her eye. “You’d have to pretend to be a lot of different horrible old men,” she said.
“I don’t mind,” Emma said. “It sounds funny.”
“What about me?” Natalia asked, interested.
“You could be her dad,” Caitlin said. “He’s really mean to her. You could whack me on the head and try to talk all the old men into marrying me.”
Emma noticed that Caitlin had assumed Emma would be the one who acted out the horrible old men, while Caitlin got to play the heroine. It might be kind of embarrassing to play the suitors, but it probably would be funny.
And it would be worth it, Emma thought, as she and Caitlin started going through the book to find the different courting scenes, to not have an enemy anymore.
Natalia was watching Emma with shining eyes, clearly aware of how Emma was working to make friends with Caitlin, or at least to get along.
Zoe was writing down notes instead of arguing with Natalia.
Emma hoped she was making progress, but it was hard to tell.
“Okay, I know I wasn’t much help yesterday,” Natalia said, “but I read more of the book last night.” She spread out the pile of books she and Zoe had brought with them. “Since we’re acting out a scene, maybe this costume book I grabbed will be useful.”
Emma stared at the book Natalia held up. Elementary Costume Design showed a person posed in an elaborate spider costume on the cover. “I think you’re getting carried away. This is just a class project. We can’t sew a bunch of different costumes in time. And how would I change clothes?”
“There’s got to be something we can do,” Natalia said. “Otherwise, anyone who hasn’t read the whole book is going to think there’s just one really persistent suitor.”
“Um, I think everyone in class has read the whole book,” Emma said. “Except you.”
“No, you might be right,” Caitlin said. She took the book from Natalia and started to flip through it. “Not about people not having read the book. But we could do really simple costumes to make the suitors look different from each other. See?” Caitlin seemed to be so interested that she forgot to sound hostile. She pushed the book forward so the others could look at it. “This shows how to make a beard out of yarn. If one of the suitors had a beard—or we could even do a couple of beards, like a gray one and a brown one—it would be clear they were different people.”
“Yes!” Zoe said, pleased. “I could make beards easily.”
“And if we do costumes we might get extra credit. I’m definitely going to need extra credit in English eventually,” Natalia added.
“And here”—Caitlin flipped over a few pages—“this shows different ways to tie cloth. If we got a big piece of red cloth, maybe we could tie it like a cloak, or sort of like a shirt, or like some kind of scarf thing.”
“Huh,” said Emma, lo
oking at the pictures. She could see how this would work. It might not look all that medieval, but it would be clear she was playing different characters. “Caitlin, these are great ideas. This could really work.”
Caitlin didn’t say anything, but she didn’t glare at Emma, either. As she dipped her head to look back at the book, her mouth tilted into almost a smile.
At the end of the day, Zoe had already climbed on the bus, and Emma and Natalia were about to follow her when Emma heard her mother calling.
“Emma!” Her mom jogged up to them, breathing hard. “I’m glad I caught you,” she said.
“Is something wrong?” Emma asked. But her mom was smiling.
“I just want to spend a little time with my girl,” her mom said. “I was driving by and I thought I’d stop and pick you up and we could go out for hot chocolate or something.” Her smile dimmed a little. “I never imagined it would take so long for us to be living in the same house again.”
It made Emma feel a little better to realize her mom was missing Emma as much as Emma was missing her. The occasional afternoon or evening with the whole extended family just wasn’t the same. And without Dad, everything just felt … off.
“Are Zoe and I invited, too, or just Emma?” Natalia asked.
“Just Emma if you don’t mind, Natalia,” Emma’s mom said, and Emma was grateful. She loved her cousins, but it wouldn’t be the same if they came, too. “Tell your mom that Emma’s with me and she’ll be back before dinner.”
“Oh, sure,” Natalia said amiably. “Just leave me and Zoe to bear the burden of snack time with Tomás and Mateo alone. You haven’t seen true horror till you’ve seen my little brothers competing to see who can put the most stuff in their mouths.”
“They’re not so bad. Pretty bad, though,” Emma said, and her mother laughed.
They watched together as the school bus pulled out, Natalia and Zoe both waving from different windows. Emma’s mom slung an arm around her shoulders.
“I miss seeing you every day,” her mom said, “but the good thing about your staying at Alison and Luis’s for so long is how much time you’re spending with your cousins. I’ve always felt a little guilty about your being an only child. Now you get to see what it’s like to have brothers and sisters.”