Monday, May 5
I HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL at some point, and I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be this morning.
When I step onto the bus, I wonder if I should sit behind the bus driver or in front of Delia and Torey. I have my answer when I remember the day that Cherish sat next to me. I park myself in the seat in front of them and turn around to say good morning.
“Morning.” Delia pulls the piece of old gum out of her mouth and pops in a new piece. It’s 7:17 AM and she’s already on her second piece of gum.
I make an effort to say something to Torey. “So how was your brother’s wedding?”
It’s hard to hear her reply because when the bus comes to a quick stop, the brakes screech and whine. “Hysterical—my brother fainted before he said ‘I do.’”
“No kidding?” Torey and Delia start laughing. I’m on the outside of their private joke.
“And when Debbie went to check on him, her high heels got caught on her long dress. She fell on top of him,” Torey says, smacking her hands together. “It was like they couldn’t wait to do it only they didn’t get it quite right.” Delia’s laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes. “Debbie and my brother were okay, but even the priest started laughing.”
“Eek, how embarrassing!” Before my wedding, I’ll consider spending hours praying so I won’t pass out or fall on top of my husband in a compromising position. I might even wear a short dress and walk down the aisle barefoot.
The bus driver steps on the gas a little too hard and the bus jerks forward. “How was your weekend?” Delia asks after she wipes her eyes. “Did you go shopping with your moms?”
“I totally forgot you have two moms,” Torey says.
Ugh. I ignore her comment and tell Delia, “I didn’t want to shop without you, but my weekend was fine.” I instantly think about Dub and that kiss. That kiss. It’s enough to make me blush. “Maybe the three of us could go shopping sometime.”
Delia digs through her backpack to find a ponytail holder to contain her wild curls. “Maybe.” Her response lacks enthusiasm, but at least she didn’t outright say no.
“Are you and Dub officially back together?” Delia asks when we arrive at school.
I try to keep from grinning when I see him because I don’t want to rub it in her face. “Yeah.”
Delia pops a knuckle. “Good for you, I guess.”
When I meet up with Dub, I give him a good morning hug, which turns into a good morning kiss. He laces his fingers through mine as he walks me to French. The thing I do best in this subject is kiss.
Laissez les bons temps rouler. Let the good times roll.
The good times keep rolling when a student aide delivers a note, pulling me out of Madame Mahoney’s class right before she administers the quiz.
Mom took my maybe about seeing the counselor seriously. Mrs. Zimmer, the school counselor, smiles as soon as I enter the room, which makes the skin around her eyes crinkle. Mrs. Zimmer’s hair looks like a gray mushroom smashed onto the top of her head. “Good morning, Calliope.”
I take a seat in the stiff chair in front of the mahogany desk. “My name isn’t Calliope. Just plain old Calli.”
Mrs. Zimmer looks down at the folder in front of her like she doesn’t believe me. “Oh, sorry about that. Not sure where I came up with Calliope.” She scribbles something on a notebook pad and starts rambling. “Plain old Calli. Noted. I called you into my office this morning after talking to your mother about a few recent events.” While she recaps these events, I zone out, staring at the gazillion pictures around her office. There aren’t any photos of kids or people—just two pugs. Pugs playing in the park. Pugs cuddling on the couch. Pugs in Halloween costumes (a round devil and a fat lizard). Pugs everywhere.
“Your dogs are cute,” I tell her when she’s finished reading through her notes. I’m ready to change the subject. Ready to take the French quiz instead of being here.
Mrs. Zimmer smiles so wide that her eyes almost disappear into her skin folds. “Thanks! I adopted Mugsy and Pugsy from a rescue group. So, Plain Old Calli, I want you to know that I’m here for you and I’m available if you ever need to talk. It’s important to reach out to others when you’re going through a difficult time period.” Then she goes all Ambulance Guy on me with a ton of questions.
Are you thinking about hurting yourself?
Are you thinking about hurting anyone else?
Are you losing sleep?
Worrying more than normal?
I keep answering no until Mrs. Zimmer moves on, advising me to stay active, take care of myself, and talk with my family and friends. “My door is always open,” she adds with an especially crinkly smile.
Sitting here hasn’t felt like a good time at all, though it is good to know where to go if I need help. I thank Mrs. Zimmer before rushing out of her puggy office.
When I get home the front entryway feels more spacious, and then it hits me why—Cherish’s boxes are gone. Michelle must’ve stopped by today. I can’t ask Mom about it because she’s talking on the phone in the kitchen with papers scattered all around her. She gives me a quick wave before turning away to write something down.
Mom might’ve checked the mail earlier, but there’s a decent chance she hasn’t. There’s also a decent chance Cherish hasn’t written back, but I snap Sassy’s leash on and walk with her to the mailbox. In it there are several bills and pieces of junk. Nothing else. Maybe Cherish hasn’t received my letter, or maybe I’ll never hear from her again. I hope that’s not the case, but to be honest, I’m not sure what I’d do if the roles were reversed.
Mom’s still on the phone when we get back, so I set the mail on the coffee table and then organize my homework in my room. My list is long: complete a reading guide, work on fourteen pages of math problems, practice tons of exercises for French, study for the Civil War test, and last but not least, virtually dissect a frog. Only Mr. Hatley would assign a task like that.
“Calli?” Mom calls in a loud voice.
I rush out of my room to find her still in the kitchen, stacking the sheets of paper. Her skin is flushed.
“You okay?”
Mom smiles a big smile that is nowhere near as crinkly as Mrs. Zimmer’s but far more genuine. “I’ll explain on the way to the casino. We’re meeting Liz early tonight.”
How could I have forgotten about Mardi Gras Buffet? And for the first time in months, Cherish won’t be with us.
Mom drops her set of keys when she tries locking the front door. She even fumbles with the keys to start the Hocus Focus.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
She keeps one hand on the steering wheel while reaching out to touch my arm with the other. “I should wait to say something until we meet up with Liz, but things are moving forward with Lemond as originally planned.” Mom places her hand back on the steering wheel before backing out of the driveway.
While this is good news, I have to push out the bad thoughts and make a promise to myself to do things differently, to be better.
When we get to the casino, Mom heads to the bathroom while I wait for her and Liz near the sparkling green Mardi Gras Buffet sign.
There’s a man standing next to a woman in the corner of the hallway near the casino entrance. “Oh my God!” he says. She’s crying. “Oh my God,” the man repeats. “Two thousand dollars? How could you lose two thousand dollars!”
I want to look away, but I can’t. The woman buries her face in the man’s chest and starts sobbing even harder. I sort of know what she feels like. Once things start going wrong, you can lose control.
The man steps away and paces back and forth in the hallway. Just when I’m sure he’s about to walk away, maybe even for good, he doesn’t. He turns back to hug her. Even after she lost a huge amount of money.
Liz passes them as she walks down the hall, completely oblivious to their drama. “Where’s Brandi?”
“In the bathroom. She’s got some news to share.”
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Liz’s smile is just as genuine as Mom’s. “I know she talked to Michelle today—I can guess what it is. Thanks for holding us accountable, Calli.”
It takes a moment for her comment to sink in. I glance back at the fighting couple. The man hasn’t let go of the woman.
I guess second chances do happen sometimes.
ADAPTING
Thursday, May 8
“SUPER!” Madame Mahoney says when she returns my assignment to me this morning. In French “super” sounds like “soo-payr.”
I busted my butt this week so I could cross everything off my homework list. It was hard studying for the tests and working on so many assignments, even with Dub’s help. “Focus,” he’d keep telling me when I started thinking about Lemond and what he’ll be like and how things will go. I also obsessed over checking the mail, wondering whether Cherish would ever write back. I ended up writing her another letter similar to the first one I’d sent, in case it had gotten lost or confiscated. I tried calling Delia a couple of times too, but she was always busy.
In science Mr. Hatley brings me back to attention by clapping his hands. “Everyone passed the dissection exam! I hope it was an enjoyable learning experience.”
Gunner groans. I admit I want to groan as well, though I’m grateful we didn’t have to cut and waste living, innocent frogs.
“There are seventeen school days remaining,”
Mr. Hatley says. Finally the class claps in response to something he says. “For your final project, you’ll do a presentation on the topic of your choice, but it has to relate to biology.” He starts talking about frog organs again. I wonder if amphibians have disorders like lupus or if their heart sacs can get infected. This might make an interesting project, or I could write about mitosis and gene traits like we recently studied.
“Calli, can you think of a way the frog has adapted to its environment?” Mr. Hatley asks.
“I don’t know.” I’m still thinking about genes and how they make up who we are, but not completely.
Mr. Hatley calls on someone else and asks her the same question. She shrugs.
“I shouldn’t have said anything about seventeen days remaining,” Mr. Hatley says with an over-the-top sigh. “Remember, adaptations are structures, processes, or behaviors that help an organism survive in its environment.”
I soak up the definition and can only hope I do a better job adapting when my environment changes again.
“I’ve got so many things to do before Lemond gets here,” Mom says when I get home. She’s folding sheets. Her hair is pulled up and strands dangle out of place, giving her the appearance of a wild bayou woman.
After greeting Sassy and setting down my things, I grab the other end of the top sheet and help her fold laundry. “Don’t stress out. Remember what the doctor said.”
“I’m fine, baby girl, and my checkup with Dr. Inez went well. In fact I’ve had much more energy lately.” With a few folds, the sheet turns into a perfect square. The fabric smells plain. Mom washes our clothes with a baking soda detergent and doesn’t use dryer sheets. Oh, well—Mr. Hatley said most dryer sheets are toxic. At least my family is inadvertently doing our part for the environment.
The environment might make a good final project for science. The refineries. As soon as I think this, I know that’s what I’ll do.
Mom blows some strands of hair out of her face. “I need to run to the mall to pick up some new clothes for Lemond. Want to come with me? You can call Delia to join us if you’d like.”
I want to spare my mother from the drama, but not after we’ve vowed to be more open with each other. “Thanks, but Delia has plans with Torey that don’t include me.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“Yeah.” It seems like it’ll take a mega-Intervention to help our friendship.
I put the laundry up for Mom before we leave. She’s super chatty on the way to Prien Lake Mall and asks me questions about Dub and about school and about the counselor visit. I don’t hold back answering.
“You’re not having any hurtful thoughts are you?” Mom asks.
I know she’s serious and is trying to be there for me, but her question sounds funny and makes me laugh. Even she laughs after I tell her no.
“Liz and I were talking about taking Lemond to Contraband Days on Saturday, and you should invite Dub.”
Bring Dub to the pirate festival with my family and new foster brother? “Why not?”
The parking lot is full, so we circle around once before finding a spot close to JCPenney. “While I pick out some new clothes for Lemond, you should look at a few things for yourself ,” Mom says once we walk inside the department store. The chilly air feels nice. “Does your swimsuit fit from last summer?”
Ugh. “Probably not.”
“Then you should find a new one, plus anything else you might need.” Mom heads off to the boys’ section and I’m off to juniors.
There is a large selection of cute bikinis, but they look much too tiny. I’d have to literally stuff myself into them. I’m glad Delia and Torey aren’t here with me. I wouldn’t want to model these things for anyone. Not even Dub.
I pick out a couple of tankini sets. Extra large. No Sports Illustrated swimsuit model would need to wear this much fabric, but that’s not who I am. I’m Plain Old Calli, full-figured teen with a few problems.
I gulp before going into the dressing room, and I consider eating healthier like Mom. More than eight numbers separate my mother and me. It feels strange that Delia isn’t in the stall next to mine. No confessions and fancy dresses. There’s got to be something I can do to bring us closer again.
The swimsuit that fits is comfortable and covers up enough that I won’t feel entirely embarrassed wearing it. After changing back into my clothes, I consider looking for a pair of shorts or some tank tops since they’re on sale, but I’m drained. I find Mom and hand her the swimsuit.
She stops digging through a rack of boys’ clearance items to set it in her cart. “Pretty color. Didn’t find anything else?”
“Nah.” I look around for a place to sit but don’t see anything other than the floor.
Mom reaches into her purse and pulls out several dollars. “Why don’t you get us something to drink while I finish shopping?”
“Anything you want in particular?”
“Just no lemonade.”
Like I would forget she’s allergic to citrus. Lemonade sounds good to me though, so maybe I’ll go to Chick-fil-A.
Hmm. Chick-fil-A.
I scheme a plan as I make my way to the food court, and I’m glad to see that the most important component of this plan is in place: Hot Chick-fil-A Guy is working the cash register.
I stand in his line, five deep, and tap my foot on the ground in anticipation of talking to him. An older man turns around and scowls at me like the tapping is the most annoying sound he’s ever heard. I’m too fidgety to stop.
Finally when I’m next in line Hot Chick-fil-A Guy looks up at me and smiles his warm, sexy smile. He’s even cuter than I remember.
“What can I get for you?” he asks. His voice is deeper than I remember too. I make myself think of how much Dub means to me to keep myself from feeling guilty. The guy lifts his eyebrows while waiting for my answer.
My voice comes out high pitched when I order a Coke and a lemonade. Hot Chick-fil-A Guy gets right to pouring the ice and drinks, and I use these couple of minutes to drum up some courage. When he passes me the drinks, his hand stays clear of mine, which is a good thing because his touch might interfere with my speech capability. “Thanks.”
I eye his chest and name tag. There isn’t much to lose at this point. “By the way, John, I have a friend who is really into you. Want her number?”
He smiles again, this time even wider. “Why not?” He reaches for a pen near the cash register and hands it to me along with something to write on. My hand shakes as I write Delia’s phone number on the back of a kids’ meal bag.
Delia might kill me for doing this, but she might thank me too. Maybe he won’t even call her. I put it out of my mind for now.
WONDERFUL FAMILY
Friday, May 9
LEMOND SHOULD BE HERE SOON. I try to zone out on the couch since I had a hard time falling asleep last night. When I finally did, I had a nightmare about the fight between me and Cherish. She kept hitting me and hitting me but my hands were somehow restrained. There wasn’t anyone there to stop her. No Mom. No Liz. Nobody.
Lemond was supposed to be here before dinner. It’s 8:39 PM.
Mom’s cleaning up after having baked dozens of oatmeal cookies. Our house smells like cinnamon and burnt raisins, plus WD-40 because Liz sprayed the door hinges. She’s already changed the batteries in every one of our smoke detectors.
Finally the doorbell rings and Sassy jumps at the front door. I run and grab her collar. Her barking echoes in the entryway.
When Mom and Liz rush to answer the door, I step back to keep Sassy under control.
“Sorry we’re late,” Michelle says with a huff after she arrives with Lemond. I have to hold Sassy’s collar tight so she won’t stampede our guests.
Lemond sets down a trash bag he’s carrying and then clenches his arms around Michelle’s thighs. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me here. Please.” My heart aches witnessing his desperation.
“I have to,” Michelle says. “You’ll be with a wonderful family, and you’ll see me and your mother in no time.” She cradles her hand over the back of his head. It seems like we’re stealing him.
I have to think of something. “Want to see Sassy do a trick?”
Lemond pulls his face out of Michelle’s pant leg and shakes his head yes.
Mom’s eyes are on me. And Liz’s. And Michelle’s. I better live up to their expectations. I lead Sassy into the kitchen, grab the box of Milk-Bones, and toss one into the living room.
Best of all, Sassy lives up to my expectations. Lemond laughs as Sassy tosses the bone up into the air and then stops, drops, and rolls before gobbling up her treat. When she begs for more, Lemond laughs again.
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