a good start? I love you. I hope we’re still BFFs.
A million hugs,
Lucy
at seven a.m. the next morning. My eyes are still closed when I answer it, so I don’t even see the caller ID.
“We’re baaaaaaack,” the voice on the other end sings through the phone.
“Sunny! Do you know what time it is?”
She laughs. “Not really. We took the red-eye. I’m all out of whack. Anyway, I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“For what?”
“To say thank you, duh, for the amazing basket! I love it! And I knew it was a good idea to tell you where we keep the extra key!”
“You’re welcome,” I mumble, still feeling sleepy. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have been so weird about hanging out with AGE, and the Bevin stuff, and leaving you out.”
“I’m sorry too!” Sunny yells. “I’m sorry for what happened that day we snuck to Bayberry Cove Library. I’m sorry I said such mean things. And I was talking to Pindar about it, and she said I can’t ditch my friends just because I have a boyfriend.”
“You and Pindar are getting along again?” I ask. Pindar is Sunny’s first cousin on her dad’s side, the ones they were just visiting in L.A. She’s sixteen and such a know-it-all. They usually fight.
“Yeah, we had the best time together. She’s way better now.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“I’m glad we’ve made up, Lucy. Of course we’re still BFFs. I’ll be over in forty-five minutes.” I hear Yamir and Mr. Ramal arguing about something in the background. “I’m borrowing one of your bathing suits because mine are musty from being in our suitcases.”
“OK, I’m going back to sleep until then.”
It feels like only five minutes pass before the doorbell rings. I throw myself out of bed to let Sunny in. Grandma’s reading the newspaper on the back porch and Bean and Claudia are at the table eating bowls of cereal. Sunny bounds in, practically jumping up and down.
“Sleepyhead! Wake up!”
“Shouldn’t you be tired? It’s only like six A.M. in Los Angeles right now.”
“I’m hyped up! We have a week until the grand opening of Pink and Green.”
I smile, and we traipse back up the stairs.
“Come on. Let’s swim. And we have to talk,” Sunny says when we’re back in my room.
“We talked. We forgave each other. Remember?” I take my army-green one-piece out of the drawer and throw it at Sunny. “Here. Borrow this one. Green always looks good on you.”
“We have to talk about something else,” Sunny says, and goes into the bathroom to change. I run to Claudia’s bathroom to brush my teeth and change into my bathing suit. When I get back, Sunny’s sitting at my desk, spraying on sunscreen.
“It’s about Yamir,” she says. She raises her eyebrows up so high, they’re practically touching her widow’s peak. My heart starts pounding. I bet he fell in love with someone else in L.A. I bet Pindar knew the perfect girl for him. “He really likes you, Lucy. Can you just get it together?”
I try not to show my relief. “Get what together?”
“Just be normal around him.” She raises her eyebrows at me again. “I know I was a freak when I started liking Evan, but you told me to stop being dumb, and I did, so I’m telling you the same thing now.”
“How do you know he likes me?” I sit down on my bed. “What about that girl Arianna?”
“Oh, that.” She pauses and makes a face like she feels bad. “I pretty much made that up because I was annoyed at you. I’m sorry. But he likes you. I overheard him talking to Vishal.”
Vishal is their other cousin, Pindar’s brother. He’s Yamir’s age.
“Sun, you’re like a super-eavesdropper now!”
“Duh. Who do you think I learned it from?”
I slap her knee. “Fine. I’ll try to be more normal around Yamir. But can we just discuss that he’s been weird too? He’s mean one day and nice the next and he invites me to things and then bails on other plans. Total mixed signals. Right? I think I once heard a song about that.”
Sunny nods. “Boys are weird, Lucy. Haven’t I said that a million times? That’s why we need to stick together.”
Sunny and I spend the rest of the day swimming, and she comes out for Chinese food with Grandma, Bean, Claudia, and me. We order Shirley Temples and share chicken chow fun. It feels like old times. Better than old times. She’s back, and we’ve made up, and she told me Yamir likes me. She didn’t even bring up Evan once in a way that seemed like she would rather be hanging out with him. We talked about him, but in a fun way.
“Remember what I said,” Sunny tells me as we’re waiting on the front porch for her mom to pick her up.
“OK. But I don’t know what to do about it.” I take a small sip of root beer float. Of course we stopped for Dairy Queen on the way home. It is summer, after all.
“Just be Lucy. Don’t overthink it.”
I’m half hoping Yamir will be in the car when Mrs. Ramal pulls up, but he isn’t. Mrs. Ramal waves to me from the driver’s seat, and Sunny walks over to the car.
Don’t overthink it. I keep hearing that over and over in my head, but it almost seems like an oxymoron. How can you tell your brain not to think? You’d be thinking about not thinking. It’s so mind-boggling that it makes me laugh.
I’m like a crazy lady sitting on the front porch drinking a root beer float, laughing by herself, but I don’t really mind it.
Dear Lucy,
Thanks so much for getting back to me! We were looking into alternate plans, but the spa was still our first choice! We’ll be there around 8 pm. We’d like manicures and pedicures and we’ll bring in our own food and drinks. Please get back to me with the price.
Thank you,
Palmer
Grandma went to Block Island with Flo for the day, so I can’t ask her the price for renting the spa. So instead, I call Anais and ask her. She’s so excited that the spa has already been rented for an evening before it’s even officially open that she’s really freaking out. “You set this up?” she asks.
“Well, I just responded to the spa e-mail,” I tell her.
“Right. I guess I let that slip, after I had to fire our initial receptionist,” she says.
“I didn’t even know we had a receptionist,” I reply, and then wish I hadn’t said that. I don’t want Anais to think I’m complaining about being left out again.
“Well, tell Palmer it’s no charge to rent out the spa, just thirty-five dollars each for manicures and pedicures,” Anais decides. “It’s a nice little promotion since it’s the first weekend and hopefully they’ll tell others about it. Let me make sure Denise, Chloe, and Rebecca are all available. They’re our best manicurists,” she says. “Good work, Lucy.”
“Thanks,” I say, already typing back to Palmer.
After all of my computer work is done, I realize I forgot to do something very important. Something Mom taught Claudia and me about from a very early age: thank-you notes! I need to write a thank-you note to Ruthie, to thank her for all of her help with the inspection.
I dig around my desk for my best note card and settle on a red card with pencils on the front. I make it short and sweet: thanking her for her help, and encouraging her to come to the grand opening.
When Mom and Dad get back later that evening, they’re cracking up as they’re walking from the driveway to the house. I don’t mean to be spying on them, but I can’t help it; I’m on the couch and there’s only the screen door between us.
“No one will believe us,” Mom says.
“Nope.”
“No one will ever understand how awful that was,” Mom goes on.
“No, they won’t.” Dad laughs.
It’s weird to see two people saying how awful something was but laughing about it at the same time. It’s like they bonded over something horrible. It’s pretty funny.
“How was it?” I ask as soon as they open the door.
“Awful,” Mom says.
“Don’t even ask.” Dad laughs again.
“What? Why?” I don’t understand how a wedding could really be that awful, but it doesn’t seem like they had a fight or anything.
“Let’s just put it this way,” Mom starts. “We had to do this group chanting exercise to welcome them as husband and wife.” She pauses for emphasis. “Then we had to weigh our food waste and participate in trust falls.”
“OK, Jane.” Dad puts a hand on her shoulder. “Lucy gets it.”
Mom leans into him in an exasperated but humored kind of way, and even though I’m curious about the rest of the wedding weekend, I think I’ll wait until everyone else is there to hear it.
“Where’s Claudia?” Dad asks.
“Probably in the pool. Where else?”
“Go get her,” he says. “Please. And Grandma too.”
“Grandma went to Block Island with Flo,” I tell them. “She should be back by nine.”
They look at each other in this way that seems as if they’re speaking with their eyes. I haven’t thought about this in so long, but now I remember it—they used to do this all the time when I was little, after I asked them if I could have ice cream or go to an amusement park, stuff like that.
“OK, well, go get Claudia,” Dad says.
I practically have to drag Claudia and Bean in from the pool. They throw towels around themselves, but they’re dripping water all over the house.
“What was so important?” Claudia asks. “Should we go change?”
“No. Sit.” Mom pats the couch next to her.
“Mom, I’m dripping wet,” Claudia says snottily.
“It’s fine,” Mom replies. “It’s an old couch.”
Bean sits in the leather arm chair, and I realize I’m not disgusted by his feet. He actually has acceptable feet. His toenails aren’t too long, and they’re a pretty nice shape.
OK, Lucy, stop. Stop looking at Bean’s feet.
“So, we have an announcement to make,” Dad starts, and for some reason, my immediate thought is that we’re getting a dog. I don’t know why. “A lot has been going on for me professionally, and you know I never planned to stay in London forever …”
“Australia!” Claudia yells. “Please say Australia! I have always wanted to go to Australia!”
Sheesh, for a smart girl, she’s really dumb. Why would we want our dad on the other side of the planet?
“No.” Dad laughs. “Not Australia.” He stops talking and gives us a look like he’s waiting to see if we’re ready. “Connecticut.”
“What?” I yelp.
“I am now an associate professor of urban planning at Yale University.” Dad smiles. “I start in a few weeks.”
“Really?” I jump up and run over and hug him. “Really? Really?”
“Really! Really!”
He tells us all about wanting to move on from Oxford, and looking for new opportunities and the position opening up at Yale. He tells us how it’s been his plan to come back to the United States all along, and when something opened up at Yale, it was like a dream come true.
“When did this happen?” Claudia asks.
“A month or so ago,” Dad says. “That’s why our plans kept changing, but I didn’t want to tell any of you until it was final. The only one who knew was Grandma.”
“Grandma?” I ask.
“Yes, I wanted her advice. She may not be my mother, but I really respect her.” He smiles. “And I wanted to know if I could rent out the upstairs apartment until things got settled.”
That makes sense. I don’t know why I expected him to move back into the house and everything right away—that’s just always how I pictured him here in Connecticut, I guess. But he and Mom have their own lives. It takes time for things to go back to the way they used to be, or go back to the way they’re going to be, or whatever.
Maybe this is like a trial run to see if things can work out with him here. Maybe I can’t totally feel like things are settled. He could leave again without warning. I just need to take it day by day.
I look at Claudia, who’s smiling; and Mom, who’s smiling; and Bean, who’s smiling too.
“This calls for celebration!” I yell. “Ice cream sundaes, here we come!”
We all pile into the car. Bean, Claudia, and I sit in the backseat, and Dad drives. He even remembers how to get there. He remembers how to get everywhere around here. It’s like he was meant to come back. He was always meant to come back.
The next week is a total whirlwind. I barely have time to just “be Lucy” like Sunny said because I barely have time to even see Yamir. We text back and forth a little bit, which is good and helps me not to overthink anything. He says he’s planning to be at the grand opening and he’s bringing Clint and Anthony, mostly because he heard that Leeoni’s Pizza is having a table at Boat Fest right down the street from us, and it’s their favorite.
I tell him Leeoni’s is donating pizza for the grand opening and ribbon cutting and he texts me back that now he really has a reason to come.
I try not to get offended. Boys are just weird sometimes. I need to remind myself of that every day. Or maybe every hour.
Anais is busy every day doing final training for all the staff. She goes over how to talk to the guests, how to handle payment, tips, and greeting people in the reception area. Grandma and Mom have lunches with them too, officially welcoming them to the staff, and telling them the basics of how things work around here.
It’s amazing that we now have nine new employees—four girls who do manicures, pedicures, massages, and hair blowouts and updos; three who do facials, makeup, and waxing; one who’s our receptionist; and a guy who does all the upkeep, cleaning, stocking of towels, and stuff like that.
We are a fully operational spa!
I don’t know if Anais said something to the staff, but they’re all super-nice to me. Mara, who’s one of the makeup artists, even invited me in early to show me a new shipment of makeup.
“You’ll never believe the foundation,” she tells me. “It’s barely foundation. It’s this liquid powder that goes on so smooth. Here. Sit down. I’ll try it on you—not like you need it.”
I hop up in our beautiful new makeup chair and Mara starts dabbing some on with one of those awesome triangular sponges. “I was so happy when I heard that the Earth Beauty line expanded into a whole new area of spa products—lotions, wax, toner. When I talked to Anais about the products you wanted to use, it was the only answer, and now we can have everything from one brand,” Mara says as she’s massaging in the foundation. I feel so relaxed.
“Yeah, it’s the best makeup ever, and the fact that it’s eco-friendly is like the icing on the cake,” I say. “But now they have that higher-end line. Pure Magic. Is that what this is from?”
“Yup!” Mara hands me the mirror. “Take a look.”
“Wow. So even. So smooth.” I laugh. “I sound like a commercial.”
Mara tells me all about her experience working at the high-end spas in Manhattan, and then wanting to move to a calmer, quieter place to raise her children. She has five-year-old twins. “It’s so great here. Great schools, wonderful restaurants, a really nice tight-knit community.”
“I know.” I smile. “It’s a great place to grow up.”
After a few more hours at the spa, we all head home to rest and get ready for the big day tomorrow. It feels so weird to think that. Tomorrow. Pink & Green is opening tomorrow.
“I made a spaghetti feast,” Bean tells all of us as we’re relaxing on the deck by the pool. “I’m basically treating this grand opening weekend like a marathon, so we’re doing a little carb-loading.”
“Great. Just what I need.” Grandma makes a face, then smiles at Bean. “I’m kidding. Thank you.”
Bean finishes cooking and setting the table and tells us to be inside in about five minutes. It’s going to be sad when Bean and Claudia leave to go back to college, partly because Bean has been our co
ok this whole summer. He even does all the dishes. How are we ever going to go back to cooking and cleaning up for ourselves?
We all go inside and eat our spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread and Caesar salad. Mom and Grandma have glasses of red wine. Claudia, Bean, and I have about a million glasses of Mom’s mint iced tea. None of us will be able to sleep tonight. Dad had to go to Yale for the past few days to meet with some new colleagues, fill out forms, and sit in on some summer classes. But he’ll be here tomorrow for the grand opening! And for the next few days while Bevin and Gary are still in the upstairs apartment, Dad’s staying in our guest room.
After dinner, I call Sunny because she made me promise to call so that she could wish me good luck. Of course she’ll be at the store bright and early tomorrow, but just in case I was busy, she wanted to wish me good luck in advance.
“So? You’re ready?” she asks.
“I think so. I’m not the one doing all the hair and makeup for Sarabeth and her bridesmaids and moms and grandmas.”
“You know what I mean, Luce.” Sunny snorts. “So anyway, we’ll all be there for the ribbon cutting—me, my parents, Evan, Yamir, I think Clint and Anthony too.”
“Great.” I’m hearing everything Sunny’s saying, but I’m having trouble concentrating. I’m double-checking the spa e-mail, and my personal e-mail, and picking out different potential outfits for tomorrow.
“OK, so this is it. Tomorrow Pink and Green will be open. Everything you dreamed of will have come true!” Sunny yells into the phone.
“So amazing.” I think about that, and I guess she’s right. Even my dad’s back, for now at least. It’s hard to imagine what my life will be like without anything to worry about. Not that I’ll know what that’s like—there’s still one big thing I have to figure out. And besides, new worries come around all the time. I used to be worried all the time about the pharmacy closing and having to sell the house, and then I was worried about my role in the spa this summer. Worrying is just a part of life.
“OK, g’night Luce. See you in the A.M.!”
“Night, Sunny.”
I spend the next hour finding the perfect outfit: my frayed jean skirt and my gray ribbed tank top with my strappy black patent-leather sandals. Cute, comfy, sophisticated.
My Summer of Pink & Green Page 16