The Brightest Stars of Summer

by Leila Howland

  Zinnie hopped out of bed, hung Marigold’s dress in the closet, changed into her own jean shorts and a T-shirt, and headed toward the kitchen. On her way there, she caught a whiff of her mom’s perfume. She felt her heart swell. When she walked into the kitchen and saw Mom making coffee in her jeans and green Santa Monica T-shirt, she ran to her.

  “Mom,” Zinnie said, and gave her mom a huge hug.

  “Sweetie!” Mom said, embracing her. Zinnie buried her head in her mom’s neck and breathed in the scent of home. She hadn’t been away from her parents that long, but that didn’t seem to take away from the warmth in her chest at being reunited.

  “Hi, cutie! Boy, I’ve really missed you,” Mom said, taking Zinnie’s face in her hands and tucking her wild hair behind her ears. “And I’m so, so proud of you. Dad and I want to hear all about the rescue. Do you know how many times we watched that clip from Channel Five on our iPads?”

  “How many?” Zinnie asked.

  “About a million. Probably closer to a billion. We couldn’t get over how we managed to raise such an articulate and heroic and beautiful young woman.” Mom took a step backward and looked Zinnie up and down. “Is it possible that you’ve grown since we last saw you?”

  “I think I might have,” Zinnie said, meeting her mom’s eyes, which crinkled at the corners. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Right here, hero girl!” Dad said from the doorway. He was carrying two suitcases, which he dropped on the ground as Zinnie ran to him. He picked her up and gave her a little side-to-side swing. Zinnie’s toes brushed the floor. “You have grown!” he said, putting her down. “It’s miraculous.”

  “You just haven’t picked me up like that in a while, Dad,” Zinnie said. She put an arm around his back as they walked into the kitchen. “Where’s Aunt Sunny?”

  “She’s out in the yard. Tony and his friends are setting up the wedding tent,” Dad said.

  “Is Marigold out there, too?” Zinnie asked. She looked out the window and saw that the big white tent was up now. It looked like Tony and his friends were working on the dance floor while Aunt Sunny hung a garland made of white paper flowers. Soon the whole yard would be transformed, decorated to the hilt with all the girls’ discoveries and creations.

  “Marigold fell asleep on the sofa last night. Aunt Sunny said she was sound asleep when she discovered her and didn’t want to wake her,” Mom said.

  “Now, before you tell us about your incredible rescue in great detail, I have to know,” Dad asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Did you turn in your story to Mrs. Lee?” Mom joined them with two mugs of coffee and handed one to Dad.

  “Yes, I finished it last night and sent it minutes before the deadline,” Zinnie said. “Oh, and, Mom, I’ll have some coffee, too, please.”

  “Really?” Mom asked.

  “Really. It’s my new thing. Aunt Sunny makes me coffee like hers,” Zinnie said. “Decaf with lots of milk and sugar.”

  “Oh, okay. Decaf,” Mom said with relief. She poured Zinnie a cup from Aunt Sunny’s pot and added plenty of milk and a teaspoon of sugar. It wasn’t the warm, frothy milk like Aunt Sunny made, but before Zinnie could specify her coffee preferences to Mom, Dad took her hand.

  “I want to see this story that you wrote,” Dad said. “May I take a look?”

  “Um, sure,” Zinnie said with some hesitation as she took a sip of her coffee, which wasn’t sweet enough. She realized that Dad would recognize the character of Marianna as Marigold, and for the first time since the day she had started her story, she felt the uncomfortable weight of her sister crime. Certainly Marigold had committed one by writing those mean things about Zinnie in her diary. But as Zinnie looked around for her laptop (hadn’t she left it here last night?), she wondered if her own offense was greater. Marigold’s diary wasn’t meant to be read by other people. Zinnie’s story was.

  “Where is it?” Dad asked, taking his reading glasses out of their case. “You can ask Mom—I’ve been dying to read your latest work.”

  “It’s on my laptop,” Zinnie said. “Which I left right here last night. I think I did, anyway. One second. Maybe it’s in my writing room.”

  “Your writing room?” Mom asked as Zinnie zipped around the corner to take a peek in the room that had become her office. Her laptop wasn’t there either.

  “Yeah,” Zinnie said, returning to the kitchen. “Aunt Sunny made a little office for me.” She scanned the kitchen. “That’s weird. I don’t know where my computer is.”

  “Check the living room,” Mom said. “I think I saw it in there. Maybe Marigold borrowed it?”

  “Maybe,” Zinnie said, feeling her one sip of coffee rise in her throat. “I’ll check.” Her breath caught and her hands pricked with sweat as she stepped over the threshold and walked into the living room. There it was. Opened, at the foot of the sofa where Marigold was sleeping.

  “Did you find it?” Dad asked.

  “Yes,” Zinnie said, her voice quavering.

  Maybe Marigold hadn’t read the story, Zinnie thought hopefully. Maybe she had simply borrowed the computer for some other reason that Zinnie couldn’t think of right now. It was totally possible that her secret was still safe, she reassured herself. Zinnie decided that as soon as she got her hands on that computer, she would delete her story and tell her father it had been lost and the email sent to “trash.” She would get into Mrs. Lee’s Writers’ Workshop, quietly and without any fanfare, and she would forget this ever happened.

  As she crept toward the sofa to recover her computer, she made a silent pact with the writing gods. If Marigold hadn’t read her submission, if their lives could continue without Marigold ever knowing that Zinnie had read her diary, Zinnie would never read another person’s diary again. She would devote all her writing from here on out to straight-up fiction. She would never base anything on her sister’s life, or anyone else’s life for that matter, ever again. In fact, she thought as she neared the sofa and reached for the laptop, all her writing would be dedicated to her sister, written in her honor and with the sole purpose of showing everyone how awesome she was. Zinnie leaned over Marigold and laid her hands on her computer. Without putting any weight on her sister or the sofa, she lifted the laptop, shut it, and pulled it close to her chest. She exhaled pure relief. Marigold hadn’t even stirred.

  She was just about to pivot back toward the kitchen when small, cold fingers tickled the backs of her knees.

  “Ah!” Zinnie said, her legs buckling as she tumbled toward the sofa and onto the sleeping Marigold.

  “The tickle monster got you,” Lily said, giggling like crazy. “You didn’t even hear me coming!”

  “Lily, shh!” Zinnie whispered so fiercely she spat. “We don’t want to wake—”

  But it was too late. Marigold sat up, straight as a board. With her eyes opened so wide and her hair sticking up on end, she looked like a vampire rising from a coffin.

  “Um . . . hi?” Zinnie said, testing the waters, hoping against hope.

  “YOU!” Marigold said, and she pointed a sharp finger at her.

  Zinnie was so scared by the look on her sister’s face that she didn’t know what to do.

  So she ran.

  40 • For Sunny’s Sake

  “Ahhh!” Zinnie shouted as Marigold chased her through the pear orchard and onto the driveway. Marigold’s anger seemed to give her extra speed, but it wasn’t enough to let her catch her traitorous sister as quickly as she wanted to.

  Since Marigold had been Lily’s next tickle monster victim, Zinnie’d had a head start out the door. Zinnie also had the benefit of wearing shoes. But despite these advantages, Marigold was gaining on her. Ignoring the small pebbles beneath her bare feet, Marigold flew up the driveway. Her rage, humiliation, and feelings of betrayal mixed together to fuel her cheetah-like strides over the rough terrain.

  “He-e-e-e-elp!” Zinnie called, looking back in fear as she whipped past the mailbox and out into the street. She climbed over a stone wall and
into a neighbor’s yard.

  “You can’t run forever!” Marigold said, planting a hand on the stone wall and leaping over it like an Olympic gymnast. Breathless with fright, Zinnie backed into the neighbor’s hedge.

  “Why’d you do it?” Marigold asked, taking an intimidating step closer. Before she took her sister down she wanted answers. “Why’d you read my diary?”

  “I don’t know,” Zinnie said, wiping sweat from her face. “It was . . . an accident.”

  “Liar,” Marigold said in a near whisper. She had learned in acting class that when it seemed like a character should yell, it was sometimes more effective to do the opposite. Sure enough, Zinnie was quaking in her red slip-ons. Marigold said it again, even quieter. “Liar.”

  “I mean, I didn’t mean to at first . . . but then I did, I guess.”

  Marigold actually heard herself growl as she lunged at Zinnie. Zinnie threw her hands in the air, gasped, and scurried over the stone wall. She headed back down the driveway and toward Aunt Sunny’s house. Marigold followed, though her lack of shoes was starting to slow her down.

  “Ouch!” Marigold said as the tiny pebbles of the driveway dug into the soles of her feet. She tried to ignore the pain as she stayed on Zinnie’s heels. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do once she got ahold of her, but it involved making her feel very, very sorry.

  “You have to run faster, Zinnie!” Lily said from the back door, where she stood like a spectator at a horse race. “Faster! Faster! She’s almost gotcha!”

  “I’m going as fast as I can!” Zinnie called. They were halfway down the driveway, headed toward the elm tree and the garage. Marigold swatted at Zinnie’s T-shirt and almost caught it, but Zinnie twisted away just in time.

  “Mom!” Zinnie called as she raced on. “Mommmy!”

  “They’re not here!” Marigold said when she finally caught up with Zinnie at the elm tree. She grabbed the back of Zinnie’s T-shirt, but before she could push her to the ground, she felt herself being lifted up.

  “Oh, yes we are,” Mom said, standing in front of Zinnie as Dad pulled Marigold away from her sister.

  “Mommy and Daddy!” Lily said, jumping on Mom, who with some sort of supermom strength was able to catch her youngest daughter with one hand while holding Zinnie back with the other.

  “Dad?” Marigold said as he put her over his shoulder and carried her back toward the house. She was too out of breath to try to fight him. She twisted her body to see Mom, still with Lily clinging to her, talking with Zinnie by the elm tree. She was disoriented, not only because she was hanging upside down, but also from the insane rush of adrenaline that was still pumping through her system, and the unexpected sight of her parents. “Dad, you’re here?”

  “Yes,” Dad said as he took her off his shoulder and placed her on the bench by the back door. “And I have to say I was hoping for a more pleasant reunion. What the heck was that about? And since when do we solve our problems with wrestling matches in this family?”

  “She read my diary!” Marigold said, crossing her arms. Dad always seemed to see Zinnie’s side of things, but how could he not see Marigold’s point of view on this one? This case was clear.

  “She did?” Dad bent down to look Marigold in the eye. “That’s not okay.”

  “Yes,” Marigold said, fighting tears as the betrayal washed over her again. Dad sat next to her on the bench. Mom was now dragging Zinnie toward them. “But that’s not it, Dad. It gets worse.”

  “How? What else happened?”

  “She wrote a story about it,” Marigold said, her lower lip trembling. “With this character named Marianna. But Marianna is, like, so clearly me. And anyone who reads the story is going to know it. It’s like whoever reads the story is reading my diary. It’s the story she sent to her teacher!”

  “Oh boy,” Dad said as he put an arm around her. “I understand why you’re so mad.”

  “Mad and frustrated and sad and just . . .” Marigold searched for the word, and when she found it, she recognized it from earlier in the summer. The tears came pouring down. “Humiliated.”

  “It’s okay,” Dad said. He held her close, and Marigold wiped her runny nose on his T-shirt sleeve. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.”

  “Sorry,” she said, wiping again.

  “Go right ahead,” Dad said. “I never liked this shirt anyway.”

  Marigold laughed a little, but stopped as soon as she saw that Mom, Lily, and Zinnie were now standing in front of them. Zinnie’s cheeks were wet.

  “What do you have to cry about?” Marigold snapped, rage once again overtaking sadness. Zinnie stepped behind Mom. Lily joined her.

  “You’re scary when you’re mad,” Lily said, peering out from behind Mom. “And so fast, too.”

  “Lily,” Mom said, “this is between your sisters. Now, Marigold, I understand that Zinnie violated your privacy, and she knows that’s wrong. But keep in mind that you were just on the verge of attacking her. If you can calm down, she has something to say to you. Can you calm down?”

  Marigold nodded, though she wasn’t sure. Her heart was beating like a drum. Mom guided Zinnie out from behind her so that she and Marigold were standing face-to-face.

  “I’m very sorry for reading your diary,” Zinnie said. “I understand it was private and I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “And?” Marigold asked.

  “And I shouldn’t have written a story based on what I read,” Zinnie said.

  “And?” Marigold asked again.

  “And I shouldn’t have sent it to my teacher,” Zinnie said, hanging her head.

  “You sent a story about Marigold to your teacher?” Lily asked, stepping out.

  “Lily!” they all said at once.

  “Sorry,” Lily said. Mom gently pushed Lily back behind her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry,” Zinnie said. “Sorry to infinity.”

  Marigold sighed and looked away. She could tell that Zinnie regretted something, but these words didn’t feel like a real apology. They felt like she was reading lines.

  “Okay?” Zinnie asked. Marigold shrugged.

  “She might not be ready to accept your apology,” Dad said.

  “I’m not,” Marigold said. “And I don’t know when I will be.”

  “Fair enough,” Mom said. “But do you have something to say to your sister?”

  “What do I have to apologize for?” Marigold asked.

  “Snooping on her laptop? Not to mention starting a physical fight,” Dad suggested. “You know better than that.”

  “Sorry,” Marigold said.

  “Eye contact?” Mom said.

  “Sorry,” Marigold said again, looking Zinnie in the eye.

  “There you all are!” Aunt Sunny called. The family turned to see her walking toward them with her apron on. “I’ve been looking for you!”

  “Obviously there’s a lot more to be said here,” Mom said in a low, quick voice. “But you girls have to pull it together for the sake of Aunt Sunny. She’s counting on you not only to help her with everything you’ve promised to do, but to have cheerful dispositions and to walk down that aisle with joyful smiles on your faces.”

  “Capeesh?” Dad asked.

  “Capeesh!” Lily said.

  “It’s truce time,” Mom whispered as Aunt Sunny approached. Marigold and Zinnie exchanged a terse glance and nodded.

  “Let’s assemble the tiers! We need to do it before it gets too warm or the frosting will be a gooey mess,” Aunt Sunny said. “Are my wedding elves ready?”

  41 • A Story, Three Tiers High with Cream Cheese Frosting

  Before the assembly of the cake tiers began, Marigold took a shower and got dressed. As she toweled off and combed her hair, one thing was certain. She was done being ordinary. She had nothing to show for it but a boring bob and a slanderous story. She pulled an eyelet dress out of the closet and slipped on a pair of sandals. She added a silver cuff bracelet and a pair of studs. Deciding that her ou
tfit required a little more oomph, she took the sash from the dress she’d lent Zinnie yesterday, and which Zinnie had hung up wrinkled and crooked in the closet, and tied it on. A splash of color and a cinched waist. Much better.

  Though her anger at Zinnie simmered under her skin, dressing like her old self cooled her down enough to allow her to put on a brave face. She was not about to fall down on the job as wedding coordinator. It had been her idea to come here early and help Aunt Sunny, and she had promised her aunt her dedication and hard work. Not only was she planning to make sure the decorations were perfect, she was also going to keep everyone on a schedule so that Aunt Sunny didn’t have to worry at all. And as for Zinnie, well, Marigold would wait until the wedding was over to really let her have it. As soon as they were on their way to the airport, she was going to list all the ways in which she was planning on exacting her revenge. But for now she pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

  As she entered the kitchen, she saw that Aunt Sunny, Zinnie, and Lily had already begun to work. The ingredients they had made or gathered since they’d arrived in Pruet were set up on the long kitchen table. There were the twelve-, nine-, and six-inch cakes wrapped in plastic. The jars of blackberry jam. The lemon syrup. The cream cheese frosting, which Lily was taste testing with her pinkie. The blackberries, which Zinnie was slicing in half. The special cake equipment was set out as well: the cardboard rounds, the frosting spreader, the serrated knife, and the big cake-decorating turntable that had been borrowed from Jean and that Aunt Sunny was wiping with a sponge.

  Even though it wasn’t yet nine a.m., it was already a hot day. Aunt Sunny had the windows open, the back door ajar, and the big fan going fast enough that Marigold’s hair was blowing slightly in its breeze. Even with the ventilation and the steady whirring of the giant fan, the tension between Marigold and Zinnie was as thick as the cream cheese frosting that was sitting in the green ceramic bowl.