The Brightest Stars of Summer

by Leila Howland

“We won’t actually eat the cake until at least eight o’clock tonight,” Marigold said.

  “You’re right,” Zinnie said.

  “He said he was going to be at the Village Café for the next few hours,” Marigold said. “If you run, you still might be able to catch him. In the meantime, I’m going to finish helping Dad with the tables.”

  “What about me?” Lily asked. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “You’re going to help Mom with the bouquets,” Zinnie said.

  “The bird!” Zinnie said as she tied on her sneakers. “We need a bluebird.”

  “I don’t think we can glue Grammy’s one together again,” Marigold said.

  “Maybe I can find a way to bring her sisters into my speech somehow?” Zinnie wondered aloud.

  “Brilliant,” Marigold said.

  “I have an idea,” Lily said. “I’m going to tell a real bluebird to come to the wedding. Bluebirds are a pretty common species, though there aren’t as many as there used to be. We learned about them in camp. I bet I can find one.”

  “That’s great,” Marigold said, and patted Lily on the head. She wanted Lily to be a part of this, but there just wasn’t any time to go looking for birds.

  “Okay, so we all have our jobs. I’m going to rehearse the sonnet, finish the tables, and take a thirty-second shower. Zinnie, you’re going to ask Mr. Rathbone to get us a cake and you’re going to write something for the ceremony and take a thirty-second shower. And Lily, you’re going to help Mom with the bouquets and—”

  “Find a bluebird!” Lily said.

  50 • The Story

  Because Marigold was so organized, they finished their tasks early. Zinnie brought her computer to the spot in the yard with Wi-Fi to write to Mrs. Lee. Even though Zinnie liked the story she had submitted and Marigold had told her that she didn’t have to withdraw it, the situation just didn’t feel right to Zinnie. If she were accepted on the basis of that story, she would always feel like a traitor. She typed a thoughtful email explaining why her story wasn’t a valid submission. She also explained how hard it was to withdraw her application to the Writers’ Workshop because it was her dream to participate, but she couldn’t do so at the cost of betraying her sister. She pressed “send.”

  She was then overcome by an urge to write that was so powerful that she couldn’t stop herself. The words flowed like water from the estuary into the sea. She thought back to Mrs. Lee’s first prompt, the one she hadn’t used yet, about writing about an argument she’d had from the other person’s point of view.

  Zinnie wanted to write about her argument with Marigold, only she didn’t want to write about it in a “real” way. Instead, she wanted to write about it in a way that let her be a little more creative. A little more . . . her.

  Zinnie wrote a story that was inspired by the legend of the Summer Triangle, but she put her own spin on it. Instead of being about people in love, it was about a goddess named Zuli and her sister, Mandu. In order to shine more brightly than her incandescent sister, Zuli stole Mandu’s secrets and spilled them across the sky. The whole world could see them, for they had frozen in a dazzling constellation. Mandu was so furious and embarrassed that she fled to the earth to live the rest of her days disguised as a humble mortal.

  Writing from Mandu’s point of view, Zinnie found herself describing with clarity and passion the shame and anger Marigold must have experienced when she read Zinnie’s story. She barely lifted her fingers from the keyboard as she wrote about how Zuli shouted apologies to her sister, telling her that she would sew a cloak in which she could hide and regain her privacy. But Mandu knew that it was useless, for what has been seen cannot be unseen. Besides, she was enjoying her time among the humans, learning there was more to life than being a shining star. She’d found a job in a café, serving pancakes and coffee. It was a humble job indeed, and Mandu sort of liked it—especially all the free maple syrup and bacon.

  Meanwhile, Zuli worked furiously and without stopping on the cloak, so that her needle burned through the night, creating a fire in the sky that was so brilliant, the mortals forgot all about Mandu’s secrets. Touched by her sister’s hard work (and growing tired of maple syrup and small tips), Mandu accepted Zuli’s apology and returned to the sky. Despite its dark beauty and exquisite detail, Mandu didn’t wear the cloak. She knew that she was a true goddess and a star that longed to be seen. Instead, it hung on Mandu’s wall, and she tucked her secrets beneath it. Sometimes, however, Mandu missed her time as a mere mortal. Once a year, she and Zuli descended to the earth, where they feasted on pancakes and always left a big tip. The mortals who were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of their fall never failed to make a wish, because everyone knows that double shooting stars are twice as lucky as one.

  It was, Zinnie thought, her very best writing. She couldn’t imagine it in Muses, but it had felt so good to write it that she didn’t really care. She decided to send it to Mrs. Lee in an email titled “Writers’ Workshop Submission, Take 3 (I really, really want to get in!).”

  Then, with that feeling of satisfaction that comes with something having been done right, she closed her laptop and placed it aside. A calm breeze rustled the leaves of the great beech tree above her. Lying back in the sweet-smelling grass, Zinnie watched the Cape Cod sunlight dance in patterns all around her as it filtered through the branches. She might have drifted off to sleep if she hadn’t been so excited for the events ahead.

  51 • I Will

  As the guests chatted and found their seats, Max played sweet melodies on his guitar. Zinnie peered out from behind the hedge where she and her sisters were waiting to walk down the aisle before Aunt Sunny made her grand entrance. Aunt Sunny was still inside the house, not wanting anyone to see her before the ceremony. In the hours leading up to the wedding, Marigold had practiced the sonnet, made sure there was plenty of soap and hand towels in the bathrooms, and assisted Dad, Jean, Mack, Peter, and the helpers from the yacht club in putting all the finishing touches on the dining tables. Lily had disappeared for a while, but had reappeared before anyone became too worried and just in time to help Mom tie the bouquets with velvet ribbons.

  Zinnie had made it to the Village Café just as Mr. Rathbone was leaving. While he had been surprised by her cake request, he’d said that one of his specialties, as a Hollywood director, was making the seemingly impossible possible. Once he’d had to locate a trained alligator and bring it to the set within forty-five minutes, so five hours for a wedding cake to be delivered to her aunt’s house was not as crazy to him as it might have been to someone else. They weren’t in L.A., where he had all his connections and the world moved much more quickly, so he was going to have to pull some strings. But by gosh, if this was Zinnie’s wish, he would make it happen. She had saved his nephew, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

  “And I also need sparklers,” Zinnie said, thinking on the spot. “A hundred of them.”

  “You got it,” Mr. Rathbone said.

  After meeting with Mr. Rathbone, she ran home and took her thirty-second shower. Then she went into her office and wrote a wedding toast.

  Now the moment was finally here. Aunt Sunny was about to get married to Tony! On the guitar, Max transitioned into “Wonderful Tonight,” which was the song that he’d said he would play before the processional. Marigold gave Zinnie and Lily a once-over, straightened the bow in Lily’s hair, and adjusted Zinnie’s sash. Once the guests were seated and quiet and facing the stone arch, Aunt Sunny sneaked out of the back door, down the stone pathway, and to the hedge to join her bridal party, her nieces. She looked beautiful in her simple white tea-length dress and crocheted shawl.

  “Girls,” Aunt Sunny whispered, “come close.” The sisters gathered around their aunt as she took their hands in hers. “I want you to know that I forgive you.” She gave them a smile so warm and familiar that Zinnie felt completely at home in this spot in the garden, at this moment in time.

  “Even for Grammy’s bird?” Zinni
e asked.

  “For the bird, for the cake, for the fighting the past few days. It’s all water over the dam. I was emotional this afternoon, but I would never want you to think you took away from my happiness on this day. You are here with me and it brings me so much joy that I can hardly contain myself.” She kissed them each on the head. “Cake is nothing compared to the sweetness of nieces.”

  Max began to strum “I Will” by the Beatles, which meant it was time for Lily to begin the procession.

  “That’s your cue, Lily,” Zinnie said.

  Lily was about to head down the aisle, but instead of preparing to scatter rose petals, she reached into her basket and grabbed a handful of the strangest-looking mixture.

  “Lily, what the heck is that?” Zinnie whispered as Marigold pulled their sister back behind the hedge.

  “It’s a mixture of canned mealworms and raisins,” Lily said with a smile. “It’s what bluebirds love to eat more than anything. Just like you love French toast and bacon. We learned about it at camp. My counselor helped me get the stuff today.”

  “You can’t throw worms down the aisle!” Zinnie said, peeking out at the guests. Max raised his eyebrows in a What’s going on? look. Zinnie mouthed, Keep playing!

  “Don’t worry,” Lily said. “They’re dead.”

  “Oh my goodness!” Zinnie said.

  “Where are the rose petals I put in your basket?” Marigold asked.

  “I sprinkled them around already. Birds don’t eat rose petals,” Lily said. “So that would never work.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Marigold asked, her voice high with frustration.

  “Oh no!” Zinnie said when she saw tears running down Aunt Sunny’s face, but before she could freak out, she realized that they were tears of laughter.

  “Lily, my young scientist, I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Aunt Sunny said, wiping the tears from her face. “You just may be the niece to take after me the most. Try not to sprinkle worms on the guests, okay?”

  “Got it,” Lily said, as Marigold turned her around and sent her down the aisle. Zinnie, Marigold, and Aunt Sunny giggled as they watched her tossing bits of mealworm and raisins in time to the music. One at a time, Zinnie and Marigold followed and took their places at the archway. As they turned to face the hedge, Max segued into “Here Comes the Sun.” The guests stood up as Aunt Sunny walked down the aisle. The song was still playing when a bluebird landed not two feet away from where Aunt Sunny stood, and it didn’t fly away until after the vows were exchanged.

  52 • The Twist

  All my hard work really paid off, Marigold thought as she took in the reception scene. The wedding tent was alive with conversation and music. Candles flickered. Paper lanterns glowed. Fairy lights twinkled like a parade of lightning bugs. The tables, with their arrangements of seashells and flowers, were the perfect combination of fancy and homemade. The whole tent felt unique, in a way that was personal to Aunt Sunny. Marigold was proud of having put it all together. And in such a short time! It gave her an idea. Maybe, when she went back to school in the fall, she could join the social committee, which organized all the school dances and fund-raising activities. It would be a way to fit in while doing something she thought was fun and was good at, unlike swimming. She was still nervous about seeing the Cuties, but as Aunt Sunny said, there was nothing like being useful to cheer yourself up. Marigold would be very useful putting together social events. And she would just have to see how things went with Pilar. As her mom had said, they’d been friends for a long time, and that wasn’t easily forgotten. Marigold hoped Pilar liked the bag she’d started to make for her and was planning on finishing in the next few days. Just thinking about giving it to her made her feel hopeful about the situation.

  She was still glowing and happy from having read the sonnet during the ceremony. She had practiced that afternoon as she had gone about the wedding preparations. In the second before she stepped in front of the wedding guests with the sonnet in hand, she panicked. She wondered if she had no talent, if she was just a girl who’d had a bit of luck for a while and whose luck was up. She realized it was a fear that had been living within her since that dreadful moment in the movie theater when she felt that her existence had been erased along with her character.

  Pretending to be “ordinary” was just a way of hiding from that fear. But it had turned out that there was no need to be afraid. The fear passed as soon as she took a deep breath and began to read. She performed the sonnet with emotion, meaning, and confidence. She felt the collective attention of the wedding guests hold her as if in an embrace. A sense of ease returned to her and filled her up. She was herself again. Of course she was, because this was how acting made her feel, and no movie director could take that away from her.

  Naturally, a part of her wished that Mr. Rathbone had arrived with the cake just in time to see and hear her read. He would have been blown away, and Marigold was certain that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from offering her another part on the spot. But the cake had not arrived until a half hour ago, long after she’d read the sonnet. And the cake had been delivered by a team of Rathbone’s assistants, not Mr. Rathbone himself. It had arrived exactly in time for dessert. It was three tiers of perfection. Too much perfection, the sisters agreed. They needed to add something to it to make it their own. They placed some of the beach roses around it, but it still somehow didn’t look complete.

  “I know what to do,” Lily said. She ran into the house and brought out her pressed flower collection.

  “But you were going to keep these forever to remember this summer,” Marigold reminded her. She didn’t want Lily to regret giving the flowers away.

  “I will remember this forever instead,” Lily said. “Especially if you take a good picture with your iPad when we’re all done. But these are not edible flowers, so we have to tell the guests not to eat them. They’re for decoration only!”

  “I’ll make an announcement,” Zinnie said, and she grabbed the mic before anyone had a chance to ingest any flowers.

  “The cake is gorgeous,” Aunt Sunny said. “Lily’s pressed flowers are the most perfect addition. But you know what I’m looking forward to even more than tasting it? Hearing every detail about how you three made it happen. But I want to wait until after the honeymoon, so you don’t have to skip a single moment.”

  “Do you know where you’re going yet?” Zinnie asked.

  “It’s still a mystery to me,” Aunt Sunny said. Marigold noticed that Zinnie was smiling ear to ear.

  In the end, Marigold had decided that it didn’t really matter if Mr. Rathbone saw her or not, because when she turned to her aunt after the reading, tears of love were streaming down Aunt Sunny’s face. She nodded at Marigold with deep appreciation and even, Marigold thought, a touch of awe. And Peter, Marigold noticed, couldn’t take his eyes off her for the rest of the ceremony. She had smiled at him from the archway and was not just a little bit pleased that he turned his signature shade of red.

  She searched for Peter now among the dancing wedding guests. Paul and Cindy were laughing as they held each other tight and spun around the dance floor. Sara and Meg chatted by the punch bowl, each holding a baby. The justice of the peace was swaying to the music while enjoying his cake. But she couldn’t spot Peter. At that moment, Max took Tony’s place on the band platform. They started to play “The Twist” and soon everyone was twisting away: Mack and Jean, Lily and Zinnie, Mom and Dad, and Tony and Aunt Sunny. I should remind Zinnie that it’s almost time for her toast, Marigold thought. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Peter.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  “I’d love to,” Marigold said, feeling her cheeks fill with color as he took her hand to lead her to the dance floor. What a gentleman!

  “Are you coming back next summer?” Peter asked.

  “Of course,” Marigold said as they did the twist in unison. “Maybe this year we can keep in better touch.”

/>   “That’d be awesome,” Peter said.

  “We could chat once a month online,” Marigold said.

  “We could even make a time right now,” Peter said. “How about sometime during the Perseid meteor shower? It starts in the beginning of August.”

  “Cool,” Marigold said. “We can describe what the shooting stars look like from opposite sides of the country.”

  “Wicked cool,” Peter said, taking her hand and spinning her. She felt so light on her feet, so happy and free, a part of her wondered whether, if Peter let go, she would continue to twirl and twirl all the way up to the moon.

  Later, Marigold and Max fast-danced. After a few minutes, Marigold motioned for Zinnie to join them. Then she stealthily danced away, leaving the two of them to do some crazy moves together. Zinnie was definitely a spaz, but so was Max. They made a perfect couple, Marigold thought. By the look on Max’s face, which was one of pure joy, he’d soon realize that the best sister for him was the one he hadn’t even thought to ask to dance. If he hadn’t figured it out by next summer, Marigold thought, she would help him. After all, she had a good history as a matchmaker.

  53 • Stand by Me

  “Now,” Zinnie whispered to Max as soon as he and the band finished playing “Wake Up Little Susie,” a number that had everyone on their feet. The moment was perfect because Aunt Sunny was dancing near the band and Tony was standing all the way at the other side of the tent talking to Paul. In order for the dramatic effect of her toast to be achieved, Zinnie needed there to be some distance between them. “I’m ready to give my toast.”

  “And now the fabulous Zinnia Silver, Sunny’s niece, would like to give a special toast,” Max said into the microphone before he passed it on to Zinnie.

  “Hi, everyone,” Zinnie said, feeling nervous as the crowd of guests faced her. She had her notebook in her hand but decided on the spot that she didn’t need it. She was pretty sure she knew by heart what she wanted to say. “Um, so, you all know how great Sunny is. Some of you know her as a teacher. Some of you know her as a neighbor. Some of you know her as your new grandma,” she said, and looked at Max, who played a little riff on his electric guitar, to the crowd’s delight. “But to my sisters and me, she’s Great-Aunt Sunny, and she’s the best. Whether she’s teaching us how to make a cake, or letting us search for treasure in her attic, or telling us a story of how things were a long time ago, she does it with so much love.”