by Krista McGee
“How did all the kids adjust?” Addy couldn’t imagine suddenly having a family of six.
“I never heard any complaints. They had my brother Sam about a year later, then I came along when he was ten. So here we are. The typical American family.”
“Whoa. So how old are your oldest siblings?”
Kara laughed. “Joey’s the oldest. He’s thirty-nine. Mary’s thirty-eight, Patrick is thirty-seven, Luke is thirty-six, Sam is twenty-seven, and I, of course, am sixteen and three-quarters.”
“Do they all live nearby?”
“We’re all on the Island.”
“The Island?”
“Yes, Long Island. Sorry, I forget you’re not familiar with my turf. Long Island is that big piece of land that sticks out from Manhattan,” Kara said.
“I know that, smarty-pants.” Addy swatted at Kara. “Kind of.”
“Anyway, everybody but Sammy and me are married with kids, so when the whole family is together, it’s a riot. And you better believe the whole clan will be out today. So are you ready to meet a couple dozen McKormicks?”
“Are they all like you?”
“Oh no,” Kara said. “I’m the quiet one.”
The girls quickly dressed and called for their show-appointed limo to drive them the fifty miles out to Kara’s home in Smithtown. Having never been to New York, Addy spent most of the drive looking out the window as Kara played tour guide.
“Look, Addy, the Empire State Building. Most romantic place in the world. Not that I’d know. My brothers scare all the boys off before they can even make it to the front door. Speaking of boys, see that hotel ahead? That’s where Mary got married. And, oh, right there—no, there, to your left—that place makes the best hot dogs in the world. Gray’s Papaya. Mmm, mmm. I’d get you one, but if I fed you before we got home, Ma would kill me. And up here, Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. Ma used to take me in there after we went to FAO Schwarz, just to get me to stop talking for a minute.”
What Kara didn’t know—which wasn’t much—the driver helped with. About twenty minutes into the ride, Kara asked him to roll down the window separating him from the girls and she drilled him with questions. Joe was happy to answer Kara, and the two of them taught Addy more about the history and architecture of New York City than most people learned in a lifetime.
“This bridge, for example,” Joe said, “she’s named the Verrazano. Howeva, the same year she was built, President John F. Kennedy was killed.”
“Was that 1963?” Addy asked.
“A history buff.” Joe pumped a fist in Addy’s direction. “November 22, to be exact. But the name for the bridge had already been chosen when that happened.”
Kara leaned forward. “Who was Verrazano?”
“Good question, little lady. Verrazano was the very first explorer to come into New York Harbah. A great explorer.”
“Makes sense,” Addy said. “Name the bridge that crosses the harbor after the first man to cross it.”
“Well said.” Joe lifted a finger in the air. “But the people thought her name should be Kennedy to honor the fallen president. Well, there was some huge fights about it all, but in the end, she was named Verrazano. Precisely for the reason you just said. Now millions of people drive over this bridge every year. The New York City Marathon starts right here too.”
Addy loved hearing Joe and Kara talk, laughing at the way they pronounced certain words—dowg and coafee being her favorites.
She was also surprised that as they drove farther east into Long Island, the high-rise apartment buildings and far-as-the-eye-could-see cement gave way to long stretches of stunning green lawns, beautiful homes, and quaint villages. Kara had Joe take the scenic route rather than the Long Island Expressway, so Addy could experience all the beauty of her native land.
Sooner than Addy expected, Joe turned off the main road onto River Street. The houses were modest one- and two-stories with lawns dotted with flowers and decorative rocks. It was a pleasant neighborhood, and Addy loved hearing about the inhabitants of each of the homes they passed until they finally pulled up to Kara’s home—located at the end of a cul-de-sac.
Kara wasn’t kidding about the size or volume of her family. As soon as their limo pulled up in front of Kara’s house, the front door opened and people poured out, screaming Kara’s name. Joe attempted to come around and open the girls’ door, but he was shoved out of the way by a man Addy could only assume was Kara’s father. He opened the door with one hand and pulled Kara into a huge bear hug with the other. Addy tried to step out unseen but was intercepted by another hug.
“Miss Addy,” Mr. McKormick roared, almost crushing her ribs with his powerful arms. “Welcome to our home.”
Addy took a deep breath after he released her, only to be pulled into more hugs from smaller but equally powerful McKormick family members.
Children of all ages surrounded the girls as well, yelling, “Aunt Kara! Aunt Kara! We saw you on TV,” and squeezing whichever knees were closest—Kara’s or Addy’s.
Mr. McKormick yelled for everybody to get inside. “Stupid paparazzi out taking pictures again. Leave these girls alone,” he yelled to the men and women holding cameras down the length of Kara’s street. Kara gave one last wave, though—per Hank’s orders—before skipping into her house.
Once the girls were inside, Mrs. McKormick sat them at the table and insisted they eat. Enough food to feed twenty times their number covered the spacious dining room table, the side table, and every inch of the long counters in the kitchen.
“Ralph, go out and get a few more pork rolls,” Mrs. McKormick said. “I’m afraid there won’t be enough for everyone.”
“Ruth, we got enough food to feed all of Suffolk County. Relax.” Mr. McKormick lovingly wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Enjoy our celebrity daughter being home with us for a day.”
Addy looked around and enjoyed hearing the New York accents and seeing this huge, loving family interacting with each other. Twin girls were standing at the side table, eyeing chocolate chip cookies; a woman who must be Kara’s sister held a chubby baby who, amazingly, slept through all the noise. Siblings took turns hugging Kara and talking about how all their friends wanted her autograph and praising her for the great job she had done at the talent competition.
“We’re forgetting about Miss Addy over here,” Mr. McKormick boomed. “We’re glad to have you here with us today. You okay? Want some of Mama’s delicious cinnamon rolls?”
“No thanks, Mr. McKormick. I’m fine.”
Kara shot Addy a “don’t you dare refuse my mom’s cooking” stare, and Addy amended, “Well, only if I could get a big glass of milk with them, of course.”
Mrs. McKormick beamed and clapped her hands as she served Addy some of the biggest, best-smelling pastries she had ever seen.
“So is this your first trip to New York?” asked a man in a striped polo.
“My brother Patrick,” Kara introduced.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He laughed. “Maybe we should all give our names so you can be thoroughly confused.”
“Good idea. I already gave her all the dirt on you guys,” Kara joked, her accent getting even more pronounced the longer she was around her family. “Okay, you know Ma and Pop—greatest parents on earth.” Mr. McKormick gave Kara another bone-crushing squeeze and Mrs. McKormick added an extra cinnamon roll to her plate.
“I already introduced you to this guy.” Kara pointed to the man in the striped polo. “Remember I told you Patrick was the one who sucked his thumb till he was thirteen?”
The McKormicks laughed and agreed. “I could tell you a few things about Little Miss Sunshine here too,” Patrick said.
“Moving on,” Kara interrupted. “Patrick’s saving graces—his wife, Beth, and kids, Ethan and Emily.”
Kara took half an hour to introduce and pick on each of her siblings, their spouses, and their kids. Addy learned that Luke wet his pants the first time he saw Mickey Mouse, and Mary ran out of
the house naked when she was five because she thought she saw a gremlin in the bathtub. One of the nieces, Sally, vomited all over Kara the first time she saw her, and her brother-in-law tricked her into eating cow tongue when Kara was just four.
Addy was trying to digest all the stories and the people. Since she was six and a half, family consisted of her and Uncle Mike. Period. She had never had this many people in her living room in her life.
This is nice, though. Addy took in their warmth. I wonder what it would be like to have such a large family.
“Okay, enough breakfast. Let’s digest a couple hours so we can enjoy lunch, huh?” Mr. McKormick announced, moving the family into the large living room.
Kara’s mom obviously enjoyed the country motif. Their living room held two large couches, covered in a stiff blue-and-pink plaid material. Beautiful pictures of old barns were suspended above each of the couches, and the coffee table held books filled with pictures of farms and more barns and animals of all kinds. Stands holding beautiful quilts surrounded the room, and the large mahogany entertainment center was filled with dozens of family pictures.
“This is a beautiful home,” Addy said to Mrs. McKormick.
“Thank you, Addy. We have made a lot of good memories in this place.” She put an arm around Addy’s shoulder. “Come out back, let me show you Kara’s old tree house. Sit back down, all of yous. Addy and me, we’re going out by ourselves. All you McKormicks can be a little overwhelming. Sit and digest. We won’t be too long.”
With that, Mrs. McKormick took Addy’s arm and guided her into the large backyard. The pair walked in silence to a huge oak tree where a faded pink tree house sat perched in the thick branches. A No Boys Allowed sign hung below the window.
“Have a seat, Addy.” Mrs. McKormick positioned herself on a bench below the tree. “I can’t tell you how many hours I spent out here while Kara and her friends were up there playing.” She smiled and patted Addy’s knee.
“I bet she was a busy little girl.”
“My Kara has always been a bundle of energy. I had a hard time keeping up with her. But I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”
Addy felt tightness in her chest. It’s not fair, God. Kara has this huge family. A mom who cries over her and brothers and sisters who look out for her. A whole houseful of people cheering her on.
“I don’t want to step in where I shouldn’t, Addy,” Mrs. McKormick said after a moment of silence, “but Kara told me about your folks. I’m so sorry.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “You’re a special girl. I think your mom and pop wudda been real proud of you. It must have been hard, losing them when you were so young.”
Normally Addy would have changed the subject. But Mrs. McKormick was so kind, so genuine, Addy felt comfortable. She started to speak, then realized she was crying too.
“I’m sorry.” Addy took the tissue Mrs. McKormick offered her. “It is hard. I miss my parents. I wish they were here. I mean, my uncle is great. He really is . . .”
“But he’s not a mama.”
Addy laughed. “Definitely not.”
“Well, listen, honey, if you ever need a mama to talk to, you give me a call, okay? Anytime. I mean it.” Mrs. McKormick put her arm around Addy and squeezed her shoulders. “We’ve got a few more minutes before the gang starts yelling for us. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”
Addy sat there for another fifteen minutes, talking to Mrs. McKormick about school, golf, her plans for the future. Addy couldn’t remember the last time she had talked so much about herself.
The peace and quiet ended as soon as the women walked in the back door.
“Addy,” Mr. McKormick said as she walked through the living room to the couch. “Tell me about this Hank character. Do I need to come and talk to him for you?”
“Kara,” Addy scolded.
Her hands shot up in an “I surrender” pose. “I didn’t say a thing.”
“We saw a picture in the paper today.” Mr. McKormick pulled up a paper from a magazine rack at his side. It showed a huge shot of Hank yelling and Addy cowering, taken the night before, right after the Top Twenty-Five had been announced. “Host or Heavyweight?” the caption read.
“Oh great,” Addy moaned.
Several of the family looked at the picture and told Addy what they’d like to come down and do to Hank.
“I appreciate your concern, but he’s harmless. He was just mad because of what happened.”
Kara shot Addy a look. “Hey, we can’t talk show stuff, remember?”
Addy remembered. Another clause in the contract they signed was that no information was allowed to leak. The girls weren’t allowed to talk about behind-the-scenes anything for at least two years. The producers didn’t want anyone making money off book deals or giving interviews to tabloids until the show was gone and forgotten.
“You’re right,” Addy said. “It’s fine. Really. Kara is protecting me.”
With that, the family laughed and assured Addy that she couldn’t have a better bodyguard than their Kara.
The day flew by too quickly. Addy had never eaten so much in her life. But never had she laughed so hard or felt so at home with other people. She wished throughout the day that Uncle Mike could be there. She was sure he’d love the McKormicks as much as she did.
The limo came at nine o’clock to take the girls to the hotel. They were flying back to Tennessee first thing the next morning. Addy reluctantly said good-bye to Kara’s family.
“You’re one of us now.” Mr. McKormick gave Addy one last bear hug. “You come back, bring your uncle. You’re welcome anytime. We got lotsa room.”
Addy thanked her hosts and walked out to the limo, thinking about how much she was looking forward to doing just that.
Chapter 17
Okay, Addy, it’s your turn to help me out,” Kara instructed as the girls looked over the week’s schedule in their trailer on Monday.
Golf.
Addy was thrilled. Finally something she could do. Uncle Mike had insisted she learn the sport from the time she was old enough to hold a club. “It’s a thinker’s sport,” he’d assured her. “And not too many girls play. If we can get you playing really well, you could get a scholarship. Pay your whole way through college.”
Because it was a sport that could be played alone, Addy loved it. No coach yelling at her, no teammates barking orders. No teammates’ parents yelling from the sidelines. Just her and clubs and silence for hours on end.
Silence. Kara was already in trouble.
“And what are you smirking about?” Kara asked.
“I was just thinking about how hard it’s going to be for you to stay quiet for eighteen holes.”
Kara put her hands on her hips. “And what are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. You, my dear friend, are one of the loudest people I know. Having met your family, I know you come by it honestly. But golf is a quiet sport.” Addy grinned and stood over Kara. “I can give you lessons, though, if you’d like.”
“In what, quiet or golf?” Kara shot back.
“Both.”
“Ha ha ha. Don’t forget that you need me. If I’m off this show, you’re moving in with one of the other girls. Anna Grace, maybe. Or Lila,” Kara warned.
“Okay, okay.” Addy sat on Kara’s bed. “Lesson number one: Real golf is nothing at all like miniature golf.”
“So no cute little windmills or purple golf balls?”
Addy spent the next hour trying to explain the sport. Kara tried to follow but got confused. Addy described the different types of clubs, how each was used, and how to know which club was best based on distance from the green and the condition of the lay.
“Okay, just to make sure I’m clear. The green is where I want to be. Sand, water, and anywhere off the grass is bad. Hitting hard won’t necessarily help, and every hole will require a different strategy. Is that right?”
“Pretty much.” Addy nodded.
“About ten years.”
“Hmmm. So this is my kazoo moment?” Kara raised an eyebrow.
“You could come out dressed like a windmill.”
“Very funny.”
The girls were able to practice that day and the next before the cameras began rolling. Hank had reminded the girls that since Jonathon is a well-rounded young man, his date should be well-rounded also. Talented, athletic, smart. They should be able to interact with him on many levels.
Hank had been surprisingly calm since returning from New York. Kara guessed he was upset over the pictures of him yelling at Addy. He had aspirations of doing more than just this reality TV show and he didn’t want his reputation tainted. So he was sugary sweet—even to Addy. But Addy could see the anger in his eyes when he looked her way.
Eric remained the only kind face on the crew. All the others cowered before Hank and obediently followed his example. Eric countered Hank’s behavior by being even nicer to Addy, making sure she got first on the list for special days out—massages, salon appointments, even the best tee times for golf practice.
The others were furious at this, complaining to Hank and saying horrible things to Addy. But she didn’t care. She was determined to enjoy every minute on the show. After all, if Hank has his way, my days here are numbered.
“Well, look. If it isn’t the Bobbsey Twins,” Anna Grace said as she passed them on her way to the fourth hole. “Aren’t y’all just so cute?”
“Yes it is, and yes we are,” Kara said. “And how are you? Having trouble with the course?”
“No,” Anna Grace said. “I am doing just fine. As if it matters. This is a formality. They can’t kick us off because we don’t know how to play golf. It’s about how we look in our little outfits. Too bad about that, Addy. Because you are sure not doing well there.” Anna Grace eyed Addy’s white Bermuda shorts and green polo. She was beginning to give a lecture on fashion when a stray golf ball flew within inches of her face. She turned her anger on the offending golfer—Jessica.