“I’m so busy this weekend because I have auditions,” she’d said once when she wasn’t invited to a birthday party. (Pilar had been invited to that one.) Another time she’d said, “I have to go to acting class after school today,” when she knew a bunch of girls from her class went to the new frozen yogurt place that let you sample every flavor, but didn’t ask her to come along.
Marigold realized that even if Pilar did get more invitations, she probably still really missed having her best friend around. Marigold had an idea.
“Hey, do you want to try the Cupcake Café this weekend? We can do a taste test and see if the cupcakes there are as good as the ones at the Farmers Market.”
“I went last weekend,” Pilar said.
“Without me?” Marigold asked.
“It’s been open for a whole month, Marigold.”
“But we were going to go together, remember?”
“I already asked you to go twice and you said you were busy.”
“I was,” Marigold said, her voice high and pleading.
“You’re always busy,” Pilar said as she grabbed an orange juice and headed toward the seventh-grade tables.
“But I really was,” Marigold said, following her friend.
Pilar said “Hi” to the Cuties as she passed their table and they said “Hi” back, but to Marigold’s relief, Pilar didn’t sit with them. Instead the two of them sat at their regular table with the usual girls. But for that whole lunch period, Marigold felt like Pilar wanted to be somewhere else.
Now Marigold was the one who wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here in this fancy, old-fashioned movie theater, watching her dream go down the drain. She grabbed her mom’s hand.
“They skipped it,” she whispered.
“Maybe they moved it,” Mom said. A tear rolled down Marigold’s cheek. “Do you want to leave, honey?”
“No! We need to stay in case it’s in there somewhere,” Marigold said.
“We’ll stay,” Mom said, and wrapped an arm around her daughter.
The rest of the movie was torture. Marigold couldn’t enjoy a single scene. Zinnie, on the other hand, loved it. She was laughing like crazy when Xiomara entertained the ravens and crying when it appeared that all hope was lost. Marigold kept shooting her dirty looks, but they were wasted—Zinnie didn’t even notice. Not until the very end, when she turned to Marigold and, as if it was just dawning on her that something was amiss, said, “Hey, wait a second. Where was your scene? Did I miss it?” And Marigold had to cover her face with both hands to keep from screaming.
“Do you want to stick around and talk to anyone?” Mom asked, stroking Marigold’s hair.
“I just want to go home,” Marigold said, still hiding her tear-stained face. “I want to call Pilar.” How could her dream be taken from her like this? How was she ever going to face her classmates? Now no one would know about her most perfect moment on earth, sitting under that tree, saying her lines like a real movie actress. Now the only people who would ever know that she was in the best, most successful movie of the year were the handful who had been there on that April day. It was, she thought, the cruelest location joke of all.
3 • Detour at the Freeway Café
“You can have the rest of my bacon,” Zinnie said, offering her plate to Marigold. Zinnie knew that her bacon, as perfect as it was (extra crispy and deliciously drenched in maple syrup), couldn’t make up for Marigold’s terrible day yesterday, but she hoped it would at least make this day a little better.
“I wouldn’t turn that down,” Dad said, taking the last bite of his fried eggs. “You know how Zinnie is about her bacon.”
“Honey,” Mom said to Marigold, “you need to eat something.”
In an attempt to boost Marigold’s spirits, Mom and Dad had taken the girls to the Freeway Café for breakfast. Zinnie didn’t even have to look at the menu. She knew she wanted the French toast special. Lily had a waffle with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top. Dad got the fried eggs with grits on the side. Mom ordered flapjacks instead of her usual veggie omelet. But Marigold just asked for dry whole wheat toast and water—no ice. Zinnie thought it was the most boring breakfast ever, especially considering they were at the home of the doughnut breakfast sandwich (which sounded good and looked good, but gave Zinnie a stomachache).
“If Marigold doesn’t eat it, then can we give it to Bowser?” Lily asked, referring to the little dog that was up for adoption that they’d seen on their way into the diner. The pet store next door was having its annual adopt-a-dog fair, and Lily had instantly fallen in love with a beagle.
“If Marigold doesn’t eat it, I will,” Dad said, patting Lily’s head. “Bowser is better off with dog food.”
“It’s the perfect amount of burned,” Zinnie said, and pushed her plate toward Marigold, but Marigold just listlessly stirred her ice-less water with her straw and stared out the window. Zinnie almost didn’t recognize her sister today. Marigold’s eyes were puffy from so much crying, her hair was pulled back in a tangled ponytail, and she was wearing baggy leggings and an old sweatshirt. Normally Marigold wouldn’t even sleep in these clothes. And nothing seemed to be cheering her up. Telling her jokes hadn’t made Marigold feel better. Praising her acting skills hadn’t helped. Offering to be her butler for twenty-four hours hadn’t worked either. Maybe syrup-soaked bacon would do the trick.
“The world’s best older sister deserves the world’s best bacon,” Zinnie offered one last time, glancing at Marigold to make sure the compliment had registered. Last night at dinner Zinnie had innocently mentioned that she thought the Night Sprites movie was good. She knew almost as soon as she had said it that it’d been a mistake. And sure enough, Marigold had declared her a traitor.
She still wasn’t forgiven, because even now Marigold wasn’t making a move toward the bacon. Zinnie decided to eat it herself.
“I thought that was for me,” Marigold said.
“But you didn’t . . . ,” Zinnie said, with her mouth full. “I asked you and—”
“You shouldn’t give someone something if you’re only going to take it away,” Marigold said, bursting into tears.
“Sorry,” Zinnie said.
“Why was I cut?” Marigold asked, slumping into the booth and dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “I guess I’m just not a good actress!”
“You’re a great actress,” Dad said.
“Sweetheart,” Mom said, placing a hand over Marigold’s, “I know how disappointed you are. But I’m sure this has nothing to do with your talent.”
“Mom’s an editor, so she knows,” Zinnie said.
“It’s true,” Mom said. “Scenes are usually cut from movies because the director or the producers don’t think they add to the story.”
“As artists, we have to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and find a way to keep going,” Dad said. “And we have so much to look forward to this summer.”
The summer was going to be a busy one, and Zinnie couldn’t wait. Marigold was going to an acting camp in Topanga Canyon, where she would be doing an actual Shakespeare play. Zinnie was going to a creative writing camp, called Summer Scribes, at Miss Hadley’s. The camp was taught by Mrs. Lee herself. For two whole weeks the Scribes would be exploring L.A. for inspiration, reading great books, and writing, of course. Lily was taking swimming lessons and going to camp at the zoo.
But of course what they were all looking forward to the most was their family visit to Pruet at the end of the summer. They were going for three days, the weekend before school started. Zinnie didn’t see how three days could possibly compare to last summer, when they’d had nearly three weeks of freedom and fun at Aunt Sunny’s. There’d been clambakes, sailing adventures, and a dance at the casino—which was what the people in Pruet called the town hall. Zinnie had written a play. Marigold had found a boyfriend. Lily had swum in the ocean. And they’d all put on a talent show. It had been, without a doubt, the happiest summer of Zinnie’s life.
T
hey all wanted to return for a nice long visit this summer, but things were different this year. Aunt Sunny had received a grant for the environmental organization she’d started, the Piping Plover Society, and she was overseeing the establishment of a bird sanctuary. It was a full-time job, so she wasn’t available to watch the girls like she had last summer. And Aunt Sunny’s cottage was a little too small for the whole Silver family to stay for longer than a couple days. Besides, Mom and Dad both had jobs in Los Angeles.
“Camp starts next week,” Mom said. “Think about how fun it will be to perform onstage with the Topanga Players, Marigold! You’ll get to do Shakespeare.”
“Most actors prefer the stage to the screen,” Dad said.
“I can’t go to acting camp NOW,” Marigold said. “I’m DONE with acting. Forever.”
“What?” Zinnie asked.
“Obviously Ronald was wrong about me,” Marigold said. Zinnie bit her lip. Ronald was Marigold’s acting teacher, who didn’t think Zinnie was talented enough to be in his class. Zinnie was not a fan. “And if Jill thought I was really so great, maybe she wouldn’t have moved to Costa Rica. Even Mr. Rathbone thought the movie was better without me! Why would I want to keep acting?”
“I don’t think now is the time to make that kind of decision, honey,” Dad said.
Zinnie was about to plead with Marigold not to give up—her sister’s talent was nothing short of extraordinary—when Mom’s phone rang. Zinnie felt her heart light up as Aunt Sunny’s face with her round glasses and cheerful smile appeared on the screen. Zinnie really couldn’t wait to see her. How was she going to wait until the end of the summer?
“Aunt Sunny!” Lily shouted and clapped.
“I’ll call her as soon as we get home,” Mom said, tucking the phone in her purse. The Silvers had a strict rule about not answering phones at the table.
“Come on, Mom,” Zinnie said. “She never calls!”
It was true. Aunt Sunny preferred sending letters and postcards and, at least once a month, a package. Sometimes it contained a shell she’d found on the beach. Other times she sent books that she thought the girls would enjoy, or a treasure she had unearthed in her attic. On Christmas she had sent a bunch of ornaments that had been hers as a child. And of course in every package was a batch of her famous surprise brownies, which were rich, gooey, and chocolaty with a peppermint kick.
“We all want to talk to her,” Marigold said, her eyes brightening for the first time since yesterday.
“I think we can make an exception,” Dad said. “After all, it’s Aunt Sunny.”
“Well, okay,” Mom said, happy to give in as she picked up the phone. “Hello!”
The rest of the family watched in silence as Mom listened. Seconds later, a huge smile broke out on Mom’s face and a joyful laugh escaped her lips.
4 • The Wild West
“I can’t believe Aunt Sunny’s getting married to Tony!” Marigold said, leading the way along the shady path through the sycamore and oak trees.
After the surprise phone call from Aunt Sunny, the Silver family had headed to Griffith Park for some fresh air and a chance to digest their breakfast and the big news that Aunt Sunny was getting married in less than a month. They were on the wide dirt trail that snaked up the steep hill through the chaparral to the observatory. Outside the observatory the views stretched out over the sprawling city in every direction, from the San Gabriel Mountains in the east to the ocean in the west. Inside the observatory were all kinds of cool exhibits and a planetarium.
But to Marigold the whole point of coming to Griffith Park was to be outdoors. Her favorite season here was the spring, after the rain, when the air was cool and the butterflies and bees fluttered among wildflowers. Right now, in the middle of June, it was almost too hot for a hike, but for the first time since yesterday, Marigold wasn’t totally and completely bummed out to the point of not even bothering to accessorize.
“I’ve never been to a wedding,” Zinnie said. She’d found a long stick, which she’d declared her walking stick, and she tapped the ground with it as she walked behind Marigold.
“Why are they getting married so soon?” Marigold asked.
“Because love is the eternal flame that draws the heart like a moth!” Zinnie said, quoting the Night Sprites movie. Marigold glanced over her shoulder to give Zinnie a look of warning. She was not in the mood for Night Sprites quotes.
“Sorry,” Zinnie said, wincing. “I couldn’t help it. It’s just such a good line!”
“Tony’s son, Paul, is in the army,” Mom said, defusing the tension. “And he’s heading back to Syria for a whole year or more. So when Tony proposed last night, he and Aunt Sunny decided to get married as soon as possible. Tony couldn’t imagine a wedding without Paul. And of course Aunt Sunny can’t imagine a wedding without you three girls as part of the ceremony, which is why we are going to go to Pruet earlier than we planned.”
“I can’t wait to be a flower girl,” Lily said. She was holding Dad’s hand and swinging his arm. “I’ll give everyone roses as I walk down the aisle. Will I get to carry a basket?”
“I’m sure Aunt Sunny won’t object if that’s what you want,” Dad said as a pair of joggers running downhill split apart to pass them.
“And it makes total sense that Zinnie and I will be bridesmaids, since we fixed them up,” Marigold said, wiping some sweat from her brow.
Zinnie had been the one to talk Aunt Sunny into the idea of seeking love again since her husband, Ham, had died many years ago. And all three of them had opened Aunt Sunny’s eyes to the fact that Tony had a crush on her. But Marigold thought that she probably deserved the most credit for the romance. Normally, Aunt Sunny didn’t wear makeup or anything fancier than shorts and T-shirts, but on the night of the town dance, Marigold had found a closet full of vintage outfits and selected the perfect ensemble for Aunt Sunny, complete with dangly earrings and silver shoes. They were flats, but still. Aunt Sunny had looked beautiful that night and Marigold was certain that was when they had fallen in love.
“We could open a matchmaking business!” Zinnie said as they entered a welcome stretch of shade.
“You can call it the Kissing Store,” Lily said, kicking up dust as she ran in front of Marigold and batting her eyelashes like a love-struck cartoon character. “Everything inside will be pink and purple hearts. Like, even the couches and chairs. And we’ll have puppies there, too. To help people fall in love!”
“Good idea, Lily,” Marigold said. “Mom, do you think Aunt Sunny will let me design my own bridesmaid dre—” But she couldn’t finish her sentence, because ahead, coming down the very path that the Silvers were hiking up, was a group of girls Marigold recognized even from a distance.
The Cuties.
They were easy to identify by their matching bobbed haircuts, coordinated outfits, and synchronized laughs. They had probably just been to see the new planetarium show. As they came closer, Marigold realized there was a new member of their clique. She had a jet-black bob and was a wearing a T-shirt Marigold would’ve recognized anywhere because she had a matching one. Pilar.
Marigold had texted her last night and asked her to hang out. Pilar had told her that she had to stay home to pack and get ready for her trip to Mexico, where she was going to get to see her grandmother. But that had been a lie! She’d gone hiking with the Cuties! The worst part was, she’d cut her hair without even checking with Marigold!
She’s one of them now, Marigold thought. Her pulse quickened and her mouth went as dry as the drought-stricken dirt beneath her feet. The momentary forgetfulness of being cut from the movie came to a screeching halt. She felt the pain of not being in Night Sprites, but also the betrayal of Pilar, and on top of that the prickly embarrassment of having boasted about her movie role. Now her whole class would think that she was not only a bragger, but also a liar and a fake. And eighth grade, she’d heard, was even more grueling than seventh. How was she going to handle it without Pilar by her side? In th
e heat of the midday sun, Marigold thought she might collapse.
“Marigold, are you okay?” Dad asked. “You look pale.”
“I think I see a deer!” Marigold said in a hoarse whisper, the idea coming to her in a moment of panicked clarity. She pointed into a wooded area. “Shhh, be quiet and come look! Hurry, quick! Oh yes, way over there. There’s a whole family of them!”
“Cool,” Zinnie said as they all followed Marigold off the path in search of the fictional wildlife. “But I don’t see anything . . .”
“Shhh! We have to be silent because we don’t want to scare them,” Marigold said.
A cold sweat dampened her face as she heard the Cuties approaching. She knew she was going to have to see them at some point. The movie was coming out on July first, which was so soon, and the shame and disappointment that were now private would soon become public. I’m safe for the moment, she thought as they walked by. She was hiding behind a sycamore tree, but she couldn’t hide forever. She gripped the tree and held her breath. The sound of Pilar’s laughter echoing though the canyon was like a beesting right on her heart.
5 • Middle-of-the-Night Mother-Daughter Meeting
“Sorry, but you can’t go to Pruet early,” Mom said as she filled the teakettle and placed it on the stove. “You have camp.”
“Please, Mom,” Marigold said. “I really think that I could be a big help to Aunt Sunny. Just hear me out.”
Marigold glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was 1:07 a.m., way past her bedtime—and her mom’s too. But Marigold hadn’t been able to sleep. She wanted to get out of Los Angeles—as far away as possible as soon as possible.
Sometime after midnight, after pacing around her room at least a hundred times, she thought of the perfect escape: Aunt Sunny’s. Not only was it far away from all her problems, but Aunt Sunny probably needed help getting ready for her wedding. Marigold had woken Mom up to talk through the idea. At first Mom just told her to go back to bed, but Marigold was as distraught and determined as she’d ever been. She begged Mom to listen to her, until finally Mom agreed and they headed to the kitchen for a middle-of-the-night mother-daughter meeting.
The Brightest Stars of Summer Page 2