I hate to wash off the beautiful Pure Magic foundation that Mara applied before, but it’s practically a law that you can’t go to sleep with makeup on your face. I take one of the Earth Beauty makeup remover cloths and wipe away the foundation. It smells clean and it feels relaxing.
I go to sleep mostly free of worry, and filled with excitement and anticipation about tomorrow.
Mayor Danes is yelling into a megaphone. “You’re all going to need to get close to your neighbors if you want to see the ribbon cutting. There are a lot of you here, and though the sidewalks on Ocean Street are wide, they’re not quite wide enough for this crowd!”
I’m tempted to cover my ears because I’m so close to the megaphone and the volume is so high and Mayor Danes is yelling. But I don’t. In a way, I like how loud it is. It feels big and important.
Amelia from Mayor Danes’s office made a huge blowup of the press release and had it laminated and mounted on a stand outside the store. Every few seconds, someone else comes up to read the interview, and it feels pretty crazy that all of these people are reading about me.
The crowd stretches all the way down the sidewalk to Leeoni’s Pizza and the Ocean View Diner and Millie’s Antiques. And it stretches all the way down the other direction past the Red Cross office and the Old Mill Community Bank.
It feels a little like the ground breaking back in June, but bigger and more exciting. And Dad’s here. He’s standing right next to me, and he squeezes my hand, and whispers, “You did this!”
I smile. I did this. But others helped too—Morrie with the idea about Gary being an investor, and Gary finding Anais, and everything Mom put into the branding and the publicity, and Grandma being a steady force behind the prescription counter, realistic but encouraging.
“Are you ready to do the honors?” Mayor Danes turns his face toward me and away from the megaphone.
“Yes, but I want some people to help me.” I look all around, then motion to Claudia and Bean to come up; we discussed it in advance that they’d help, but I didn’t mention my other plan.
“Bevin?” I call. She’s standing with her dad wearing some of the clothes we bought together. She looks up, confused. “Do you want to help cut the ribbon?”
Her eyes get huge and she runs up to me, and then the four of us stand there behind the big ribbon. I get to hold the scissors, and my hand is shaking a little bit. Finally I do it, and the ribbon falls to the ground and everyone starts cheering.
It’s ten in the morning on a beautiful Saturday in August, and all of these people are so happy for us. Sarabeth and her friends and family will be here in an hour to primp before the wedding this evening. And then tonight Palmer and Walker will be enjoying an evening at Pink & Green.
The glass doors to Pink & Green are wide open, and people are coming in for a tour and for miniature pieces of Leeoni’s donated pizzas. There’s also mini spanakopita from Grecian Islands Restaurant around the corner and tea sandwiches from Max’s Café three blocks down. There are avocado rolls from Gari to keep with the green theme, and pink lemonade and strawberry milk shakes from 384 Sprinkles for the pink.
People are walking around, enjoying their food, talking to each other. Soon they’ll leave the spa and enjoy the rest of Boat Fest and the other booths and events.
I’m sipping a glass of pink lemonade in the Relaxation Room and taking a moment of quiet for myself, just to sit back and appreciate everything, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look to each side of me, and then turn around and look behind the couch.
It’s Yamir.
“Hey, Luce-Juice.”
“Hey.”
I expect him to come and sit down with me, but he stays standing there, leaning over the top of the couch.
“So,” he says.
“So.”
“So now that Pink and Green is open, are you going to go back and be normal, fun Lucy again?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yamir, come sit, because it’s really uncomfortable to keep turning my head this way to talk to you.”
He gives me a crooked smile and comes to sit down.
I’m glad I asked him to sit, because my neck was starting to hurt, but now we’re sitting on the couch together, alone in the Relaxation Room, and maybe it’s the sourness of the lemonade, but my stomach feels like a washing machine.
“So if you go back to being normal Lucy again—”
“Wait. You’re saying I used to be normal?”
He hits me on the arm. “You know what I mean.”
He says that a lot. But I do kind of know what he means.
“If you go back to being Lucy again, and you have time for me, well, maybe we can be something … we can be, um, I don’t know.” He pauses and looks at me, and I think I know what he’s getting at, but I don’t know if I should say anything.
“We can be … Lucy and Yamir.”
I exhale and smile.
“I like that.” I nod. “Lucy and Yamir.”
“Good.” He smiles, but not his crooked smile—his even, confident, self-assured smile.
“So I’ve only had about seventeen mini-slices of Leeoni’s, which equals about one and a half real slices. Can we go get more?”
“Sure,” I say.
We stand up, and as we’re leaving the Relaxation Room, he grabs my hand.
We walk out through the pharmacy, still holding hands, and over to the entryway to Pink & Green.
There are people all around us—happy people, enjoying their time here. They’re smiling and waving to me, and I smile back. Pink & Green sounded so great when it was just an idea I had a long time ago. Now it really exists, and it’s better than I could have imagined. But right now I can only think about one thing: Lucy and Yamir.
I really like the sound of that.
Acknowledgments
Mom, Dad, Bubbie, Zeyda, Aunt Emily, Heidi, all the Rosenbergs near and far, the crew in Indiana, Libby Isaac, the BWL Library team, and everyone who has chosen to read my books.
To Ellie and Gracie, thanks for being such awesome fans! I can’t wait to buy your books one day.
High fives and X’s and O’s for Jenny, Caroline, and Siobhan.
Alyssa, you continue to amaze me with your brilliance, honesty, sensitivity, and all-around awesomeness. If literary agenting was an Olympic sport, you would win gold every time.
Howard, Susan, Jason, Chad, Meagan, Mary Ann, Laura, Elisa, and everyone at Abrams, you are superstars. I am beyond grateful for everything that you do.
Maggie, I feel lucky every single day that you’re on my team, reading my words and making each sentence better. I owe you a swimming pool of thanks.
Dave and Aleah, thanks for the love and support and for sharing vanilla milkshakes with me.
Lisa Greenwald works in the library at the Birch Wathen Lenox School on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. She is a graduate of the New School’s MFA program in writing for children. She lives with her husband and daughter in Brooklyn, New York.
This book was designed by Chad W. Beckerman.
Lisa Greenwald is the author of Reel Life Starring Us, Sweet Treats & Secret Crushes, and My Life in Pink & Green, which earned a starred review from Kirkus Reviews. She works in the library at the Birch Wathen Lenox School in Manhattan and is a graduate of the New School’s MFA program in writing for children. She lives in Brooklyn. Visit her online at LisaGreenwald.com.
Jacket photographs © 2013 Jonathan Beckerman
Jacket design by Chad W. Beckerman
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My Summer of Pink & Green Page 17