“Lily never goes to the beach,” Marigold said. “She’s scared of the water.” Lily nodded.
“Maybe it’s time to not be scared,” Aunt Sunny said, and returned from the pantry, her arms full of ingredients. “Let’s not dwell on it now; let’s get cooking.” She set the items on the table: flour, sugar, two kinds of chocolate, and vanilla.
“Why don’t you use a mix?” Marigold asked. She’d made brownies enough times to know that all you had to do was add oil and a couple of eggs to the brown powder in the box and voilà . . . brownies.
“Blasphemy!” Aunt Sunny said, and shook a wooden spoon at the sky. Lily and Zinnie giggled. Aunt Sunny opened a drawer and took out a set of measuring cups and spoons. “Do you think they would be my famous brownies if I made them from a mix?”
Marigold shrugged. Aunt Sunny filled one pan with water, then put another pan inside it. She put the chocolate and the butter inside the top pan.
“I want to see the chocolate,” Lily said, and Aunt Sunny pulled a chair up to the stove so that Lily could watch the butter melt. She handed her a wooden spoon. “Here, Lily, stir this very gently.” She gave a mixing bowl to Zinnie. “Zinnie and Marigold, you can crack the eggs into the bowl. Shells go in the compost,” she added, nodding to the compost container next to the sink. “And when you’ve done that, add four cups of sugar and four tablespoons of vanilla.”
“Four cups?” Marigold asked.
“I said they were surprise brownies, not health brownies,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Why are they called surprise brownies?” Zinnie asked.
“Because every time I make them, I get a surprise.”
“Like what?” Marigold asked as she cracked an egg against the side of the bowl.
“The very first time I made them for the community bake sale, this short, handsome newcomer to town named Ham asked me out on a date,” Aunt Sunny said.
“I thought all handsome strangers were tall,” Marigold said.
“Well, this one was short. And he was the handsomest man I’d ever met,” Aunt Sunny said as she measured and sifted flour into yet another mixing bowl.
“Did you kiss on the first date?” Marigold asked.
“You betcha,” Aunt Sunny said with a smile, and added three pinches of salt to her bowl.
“Ooh-la-la,” said Zinnie.
“Ooh-la-la is right,” Aunt Sunny said, dusting off her hands. “And the next time I made the surprise brownies, he proposed marriage. After knowing me for only a month. Let me tell you, it was a great surprise. My heart almost stopped.”
“I think these are love brownies,” Zinnie said. “You eat them, and it makes people fall in love.”
“Kissy kissy,” Lily said, and waggled her hips. Zinnie and Aunt Sunny laughed.
“Well, I thought that myself,” Aunt Sunny said. “Until I made them the next time and I got a different sort of surprise.”
“Was it a bad surprise?” Marigold asked as she added the sugar and vanilla.
“Depends how you look at it,” Aunt Sunny said. “Oh, you’ve done a good job, Lily. That chocolate has melted perfectly. Now we’re going to combine your efforts.” She turned off the stove and poured the chocolate mixture into the egg mixture.
“What was the third surprise?” Marigold asked.
“Ham lost his job,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Oh, no,” Zinnie said.
“A bad surprise,” Marigold said. “I knew it.”
“Well, not exactly,” Aunt Sunny said, and handed the spoon to Marigold to stir. “It was also the very same night he decided he would start his own business. A boatbuilding business.”
“It was a good surprise hiding in a bad one,” Zinnie said.
“That is so well put, Zinnia,” Aunt Sunny said. “Now, grab the peppermint extract for me off the shelf, won’t you, Marigold?”
“Uh . . . why?” Marigold asked.
“For the brownies, of course,” Aunt Sunny said, and poured some into the mixture. “It’s the secret ingredient that sets the surprises in motion.”
“I wonder what surprise will happen today,” Lily said.
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Aunt Sunny said. Marigold rolled her eyes.
25. Over the Dune
Zinnie climbed into the backseat of Aunt Sunny’s station wagon, which had wide cloth seats and smelled vaguely like doughnuts. It was much lower to the ground than her mother’s car, and a bumpier ride too. Also, she had to turn a crank to lower and raise the windows. But just like at home, Marigold sat in the front seat and Lily and Zinnie sat in the back, and as soon as Aunt Sunny started the car, Marigold turned on the radio. Amanda Mills’s new hit single, “Kiss Me to Crazytown,” was playing.
“This is my favorite song,” Marigold said, and started to sing along while gazing glumly out the window. “It reminds me of home.”
“It’s my favorite song, too,” Zinnie said. She sang along as well, even though she only knew the chorus and had to hum though the verses.
Marigold turned around. “Just because it’s my favorite song doesn’t mean it has to be yours, too,” she said. “You need to have your own favorite song.”
“Whatever,” Zinnie said. She held her breath. When Marigold’s voice was sharp like that, it could bring Zinnie to the brink of tears in a flash.
Aunt Sunny turned the radio off. “Let’s listen to the birds instead,” she said, and rolled her window down. Marigold huffed. They turned onto a narrow little dirt road that ran through a field.
“Check out that place!” Marigold said from the front seat. Zinnie looked up to see Marigold pointing to a mansion ahead of them. It really stood out because there were only a few other houses around, and they all were small like Aunt Sunny’s.
“Oh, it’s a monstrosity!” Aunt Sunny said. “Four floors, twelve bedrooms, ten bathrooms, two swimming pools, and a screening room. The man who built that house ruined the view for these folks, not to mention one of the best spots for piping plovers, those darling birds, to nest. Darling endangered birds, I should add. I did all that I could to stop him. I established the Piping Plover Society and everything. And to think, he lives here only two weeks a year.”
“It looks like an awesome house to me,” Marigold said.
“You might feel differently if it ruined your view,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Or if you were a piping plover,” Lily said.
“Exactly,” Aunt Sunny said.
“So were you in a fight with him?” Zinnie asked.
“Whoo boy! Was I ever,” Aunt Sunny said as they continued down the dirt road. Zinnie tried to imagine Aunt Sunny in a fight. “Well, with his lawyers anyway. He didn’t even bother to show his face.”
“Who won?” Marigold asked.
“He did, I suppose, because the house is there. But it took a team of fancy California lawyers to take me down.”
“We’re from California,” Lily said.
“That’s right,” Aunt Sunny said. They stopped at a low, wide gate, and Aunt Sunny handed Marigold a key. “Marigold, as the front seat passenger, it’s your job to unlock the gate while I drive through, then lock it up again when we’re on the other side.”
“Why does a beach need a gate?” Marigold asked.
“You’ll see,” Aunt Sunny said.
Marigold grumbled and climbed out of the car.
“She needs to lose the attitude,” Lily said, repeating what her mother said to Marigold whenever she was rude. Aunt Sunny laughed. Then Marigold opened the gate, and they drove through.
“Do they have the gate to keep people out?” Zinnie asked, turning to watch Marigold close the gate and lock it behind her.
“Actually, it’s more about keeping them in,” Aunt Sunny said. Marigold locked the gate and then, realizing she had locked herself out, climbed over it and jumped to the ground. Zinnie wanted to ride in the front seat next time so that she could be the one to unlock and lock the gate.
“Who?” Zinnie asked, turni
ng back around to see who Aunt Sunny was talking about.
“Them,” Aunt Sunny said, pointing to a couple of cows with long, shaggy hair.
“A hairy cow!” Lily said as Marigold hopped back into the car.
“Where?” Marigold asked.
“There! That one has horns,” Zinnie said, and rolled up the window. That’s when she noticed that these weren’t just a couple of cows, but a whole bunch of them. Maybe twenty or so, spread out through the pasture, munching on grass.
“I could’ve been trampled,” Marigold said.
“Those are Highland cattle,” Aunt Sunny said as the little car bumped down the narrow sandy road. “This is where they live in the summer. And they aren’t dangerous.”
“They’re all looking at us,” Lily said.
“Well, they’ve never seen you before,” Aunt Sunny said, slowing the car so one of them could cross the road. “You should introduce yourself.”
“Hello, cow,” Lily said. One mooed in response, and Aunt Sunny drove on.
A few minutes later, after they had parked the car, they climbed a big dune single file: Aunt Sunny with the brownies, Zinnie with a bagful of beach towels, and Marigold with Lily on her back, because Lily would not climb the dune on her own two feet.
When they reached the top, Zinnie looked around. In front of her was a stretch of sandy beach and the vast, glimmering ocean. Big waves curled and rolled onto the beach, then retreated back to sea, leaving lacy trails. Over to the right was a big pond, which flowed in a narrow river out to the sea. She realized that must be the estuary. And down the beach to the left was a group of people standing around what looked like a steaming pile of old blankets.
“Is that the clambake?” Zinnie asked, but Aunt Sunny was studying the sky.
“That’s a ominous nimbostratus if I ever saw one,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Huh?” Zinnie asked, and then remembered that Aunt Sunny used to be a science teacher.
“A serious rain cloud,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Oh, yeah,” Zinnie said. She should’ve known that; she’d studied weather in science last year. She saw the flat, dark cloud in the distance. It was moving in their direction.
“It’s going to rain?” Marigold asked, out of breath from carrying Lily all the way up the dune. She tried to put Lily down, but Lily wasn’t making it easy. She’d wrapped her legs around Marigold tightly and was gripping her neck.
“Probably,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Then we should go home,” Lily said as she clung to Marigold.
“Yeah, let’s just go to the movies,” Marigold said.
“No, no,” Aunt Sunny said. “We’ll make the most of the afternoon and hope it stays out at sea.”
Aunt Sunny started down the dune, toward the ocean. Zinnie and Marigold followed. Lily was clinging to Marigold, but as soon as she began to descend the dune, Lily jumped from Marigold’s back and planted her feet in the sand.
“I won’t go, I won’t go,” she said, crossing her arms. “I’m staying right here.”
“Lily, come now, you don’t want to miss out,” Aunt Sunny said, but Lily sat down and shook her head.
“I don’t want to go near the ocean!” Lily said.
“She won’t budge,” Zinnie says. “Lily does only what Lily wants. Trust me. That’s why we need Berta.”
“Zinnia and Marigold, can I have a word?” Aunt Sunny said, taking Marigold and Zinnie aside.
“You may not know this,” Aunt Sunny said, “but I’m the youngest of three girls as well, so I know how much she looks up to you two. She’ll listen to you like no one else.” Zinnie and Marigold nodded. “Show her how fun it is to be here at the beach. Show her that she doesn’t have to be afraid.”
“I have an idea,” Zinnie said. She handed Aunt Sunny the canvas bag. Then she backed up, made a running start, and flew down the dune, her arms flung wide.
“Woo-hoo!” Zinnie called as she tumbled at the bottom, landing on her butt in the sand. Lily watched with curiosity.
“Marigold’s turn,” Aunt Sunny said, winking at her.
Marigold ran down the hill, smiling. “Come on, Lily,” she said when she reached the bottom. “You try it!”
Lily shook her head
“Okay, looks like it’s my turn!” Aunt Sunny said, and walked down the dune. She couldn’t run because her arms were loaded up with stuff. Aunt Sunny, Marigold, and Zinnie waved to Lily from the beach.
“Come on, Lily,” Marigold said. “It’s not scary.”
“Look,” Zinnie said. “The waves can’t get me from here. They’re far away!”
“Sit down, close your eyes, and scoot!” Aunt Sunny said. “We’ll meet you at the bottom.”
“You can do it!” Zinnie chanted.
“Your mother used to love to run down this dune!” Aunt Sunny said. “I remember one summer when she wasn’t much older than you. Up and down, up and down, she went. All day long!” Aunt Sunny said.
“All day long?” Lily asked.
“Lily, you should do it too, so you can tell Mom about it,” Zinnie said.
Lily considered.
“I’ll let you do my hair,” Marigold said.
“For real?” Lily asked.
“For real,” Marigold said.
That did it. To everyone’s amazement, Lily sat down, covered her eyes with her hands, and started to scoot. When she reached the bottom, Lily peeked through her fingers while Aunt Sunny, Marigold, and Zinnie clapped and cheered. Lily wouldn’t remove her hands from her face for at least a minute, but they all saw the smile pushing against her palms.
26. Clambake
Zinnie couldn’t help going back for seconds, even though she was stuffed. There were red baby potatoes and corn on the cob wrapped in little packages of tinfoil. There was spicy sausage and lobster, which Aunt Sunny showed them how to crack open and use a little fork to get the meat out of. Lily, who had never had lobster before, ate two whole claws. There were clams and mussels, neither of which Marigold would eat, claiming they could give you diseases, but which Zinnie loved. There were jars full of melted butter for dipping and pouring. And it had all been cooked right there on the beach, on a bunch of rocks and a pile of stinky seaweed. Now that she had tried everything, she knew what to get more of. Clams! Salty, buttery clams! Zinnie couldn’t believe it, but she preferred clambakes to taco trucks.
She stood up from the picnic blanket where she, Marigold, and Lily were sitting. Marigold was letting Lily “do her hair” as she read to her from the Night Sprites book. This meant that Lily was using the handful of hair elastics she found in Marigold’s purse to put a bunch of weird uneven braids and ponytails in Marigold’s hair. Normally, Marigold didn’t let anyone but a professional touch her perfect golden locks, but she couldn’t go back on her promise to Lily. Besides, there was no one here she cared about seeing her, so what did it matter?
Zinnie walked back to the group gathered around the clambake. There were about fifteen people from four different families, but none of them had kids their ages. The only “kids” here were college students, who were laughing together and running behind the dunes. The grown-ups asked the sisters the usual questions like “What grade are you in?” and “How old are you?” Zinnie thought that if you knew the answer to one of those questions, you really didn’t need to ask the other, but she was politer than Marigold and more outgoing than Lily, so she answered with a smile for all three of them.
Every time someone learned they were Aunt Sunny’s nieces, that person would exclaim: “She’s my best friend!” Or “Aren’t you lucky?” Or “Isn’t she a firecracker?” Or “You mean the sage of Pruet?” And their faces would open into big, laughing smiles. As for Aunt Sunny herself, Zinnie hadn’t seen her sit down once the whole time. She was laughing and chatting, flitting around the clambake like a hummingbird in a field of wildflowers.
The tall man with a sunburned nose and white hair who had done most of the cooking, Tony, smiled so much when he talked about
Aunt Sunny that Zinnie thought his face might break.
“I’d like more clams, please,” Zinnie said to him when she went back for seconds.
“You take after your aunt,” he said, and piled clams onto her plate. “These littlenecks are her favorite. She eats ’em like candy. Maybe if you eat enough of these, you’ll be as smart as she is. She’s the smartest woman I know. Did you know that she once explained hydrodynamics over a coffee cake at Sue’s Café?” Zinnie shook her head. He paused for a moment and added, “Yep, she’s one of kind. And pretty as a peach.”
Pretty as a peach? Though Aunt Sunny did have a nice, friendly sort of face, Zinnie had never thought of her as pretty. She wore her gray hair short and had old-fashioned-looking glasses and never dressed up or wore makeup. She also had kind of yellow teeth.
“I see you’ve met Zinnia,” Aunt Sunny said, and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Aunt Sunny was pretty short, so in order to touch his shoulder, she had to reach her hand up past her head. Tony turned as red as a fire engine.
“Why, your ears must’ve been burning up,” he said. “We were just talking about you.”
You’re the one who’s burning up, thought Zinnie.
“You’re not telling her how we locals like to whoop it up at the Clam Shack, are you?” she asked.
“Nope,” Tony said, and laughed.
“Well, that’s good. I’m a role model, you know.” Then she squinted, looking at something in the distance. “Well, I’ll be darned. They decided to join us, despite the impending weather,” Aunt Sunny said. Zinny dug into her clams. She ate two, and Aunt Sunny took one off her plate, claiming it was “the aunt tax.” Zinnie wasn’t missing the town beach at all. In fact, as she devoured another buttery clam, she wished there were a clambake every day. Aunt Sunny waved to someone behind Zinnie. “So glad to see you, Jean, and you’ve brought our champion sailor.”
“We’re a little late because of a birthday party, but we couldn’t wait to get here,” a lady said.
“I’m so pleased for you to meet my niece. This is Zinnia Silver.”
“It’s so nice to—” Zinnie turned around, ready to shake hands for the zillionth time that day. But her fingers went limp, and she felt her cheeks get as hot as the rocks that had cooked the clams. She had no idea how to finish the sentence she’d started, for she was face-to-face with Peter Pasque, who knew her by an entirely different name.
The Forget-Me-Not Summer Page 9