by Robin Palmer
“Oh yeah? Me too. How long have you been practicing?”
“About five years.”
“That’s great,” Lana said as she flashed another smile.
“What about you?” Mom asked.
“Oh, I don’t know . . . I think . . . fifteen?” She wasn’t all puffed up about it. It was almost like she sounded a little embarrassed.
Mom’s face fell like the chocolate soufflé we had tried to make for Thanksgiving last year. “Wow. That’s terrific. Very impressive.” She turned to me. “Isn’t that impressive, Avery?”
“Totally,” I agreed.
“Do you do yoga, Avery?” Lana asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. The one time I tried, I slipped and broke my toe.”
“Ouch. That’s too bad. Let me guess: You’re a tennis player. Like your dad.”
My dad played tennis? That was news to me. I shook my head again. “No. Last time I played, I hit myself in the head with the racquet and got a black eye.”
She laughed. “You’re funny.” She stopped when she saw that Mom and I weren’t joining her. “Oh. You’re serious?”
I nodded. “I’m not all that coordinated.”
“She gets that from my side of the family,” Mom said proudly.
Lana looked like she didn’t know whether she was joking or not. (She wasn’t.)
Mom turned to me. “Okay, then. I’m going to go. What time should I pick you up?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll drop her off.”
“There’s no need for that,” Mom said.
“No, really—it’s not a big deal. Plus I need to learn the area.”
Mom shrugged. “Okay. Great. Thanks.”
I knew her well enough to know that she was trying to figure out what she should clean first before we got there and Lana invited herself in.
She leaned over and kissed me. “I’ll see you later. Have fun.”
“I will,” I lied.
As I watched her walk away, I felt like I did the first day of sleepaway camp when I was ten. Already homesick. When I turned back to Lana, she was smiling again. I wondered if it hurt to do it so much.
“Ready to go in?” she asked.
I nodded.
“The girls have been so excited for you to get here,” she said over her shoulder.
I was surprised about how much I liked Lana. It was too bad to find out that she was a liar.
“I’ve been excited too,” I replied. Okay, so I was a liar as well.
When we walked in, it was hard to believe that they had lived in the house for only a week. It was perfectly put together, but in such a way that it didn’t look put together. There was a lot of glass and sharp corners, and it looked somewhat unfriendly, sort of like a tall, thin cheerleader. There was no dust or fingerprints on any of it. Our furniture, on the other hand, had smudges on it even if we had cleaned it, like, five minutes before.
“This place is nice,” I blurted out.
“Oh, thanks, but we’re still pretty far away from having it all done,” Lana said.
Jeez. I could only imagine what it would look like then.
“Come on. Let’s go see the girls,” she said as she turned.
I followed her to the family room, where Kayley and Cassie were sprawled out on different couches watching one of the Real Housewives shows, while Sammi was busy practicing headstands . . . and failing.
“Girls? Avery’s here.”
Sammi fell over and popped back up on her knees. “Hi,” she chirped.
I smiled. She was really cute. “Hi,” I replied. Maybe I’d ask her if she could teach me to do a headstand. I was not what you’d call athletic. In fact, other kids in school now came up to me for suggestions of excuses to get out of gym class.
“I’ll be right back,” Lana said. “I’m going to get us some snacks.”
Cassie and Kayley continued to watch TV, glued to a commercial about floor wax. As I waited for Lana to come back, I looked at the framed photos that were on the built-in shelves—one way not to feel even more awkward than you already did when being ignored. Lots of my dad and Lana, in beachlike settings or skiing. A ton of the girls that followed them through the years. Ballet. Horseback riding. Canoeing. A few of the five of them, already looking like a family. I searched the shelves for some of me but found only one. My third-grade school picture, the one where the ends of my hair were wet because I had been chewing on them beforehand, which was a nervous habit I had for a while. It wasn’t even in a frame—it was propped up against the corner of the shelf.
“Girls. Turn that off, please,” Lana ordered as she returned with a tray full of chips and guacamole and a pitcher of lemonade. She might have been a smiler, but I could tell that when she got mad, she was probably pretty good at that as well. “Thank you,” she said as Kayley clicked the TV off.
Lana’s smile was back on. “Avery. Please. Have a seat.”
Seeing that Sammi and Lana were now taking up the two chairs, that left me with having to choose a couch, which was almost as bad as standing in the middle of the cafeteria on the first day of school as a new kid. Deciding that Kayley was the safer choice, I sat down with her, as close to the far edge as possible.
“I apologize for the lack of food. I hope you like chips and guacamole. It was the fastest thing I could whip up.”
“You made this?” I said, impressed. I was pretty sure Mom wouldn’t have known where to begin making guacamole.
“Sure. You’ve never made it before?”
I shook my head. Our version of cooking at home was popping things in the microwave.
“Well, next time you’re here, I’ll teach you,” she said.
Lana definitely didn’t fit the evil-stepmother mold. While it was a relief, it also made me feel a little guilty, like I wasn’t being loyal toward my own mother by liking her.
Lana pushed the tray toward me. “Please. Have some.”
No one else had made a move to have some, so I definitely wasn’t going to be the first. “Thanks, but I’m not that hungry,” I lied. “I had a big breakfast.” Just then my stomach decided to let out the biggest, longest, loudest gurgle in the history of gurgles. It was so loud that Cassie stopped the texting I could see her doing from behind a throw pillow.
I grabbed my stomach to try and stop it as they all looked at me. “That must be the bacon.”
Everyone laughed. Well, everyone except Cassie, which wasn’t a surprise. And when Kayley saw that Cassie wasn’t laughing, she stopped.
“It’s nice to see you have your dad’s sense of humor,” Lana said.
My dad was funny? Really? Maybe you had to spend a bunch of time with him for that to come out.
“Did you know they make chocolate bars with bacon in them?” Kayley said. “It sounds gross, but it’s really good.”
“My friend Lexi loves those,” I replied. “I once tried one that had wasabi in it. You know, that spicy stuff that you mix with soy sauce for sushi? That was really weird.”
Kayley wrinkled her nose. “That sounds gross.”
“It was,” I agreed. I racked my brain, trying to think of something else to keep the conversation going, but came up blank. And once Kayley caught Cassie’s eye, she sank back on her side of the couch and went back to ignoring me.
“Okay, so we’ve got a lot to do before the wedding,” Lana announced. She turned to Kayley. “Kayley, how much time do we have left?”
“Four weeks, four days”—she grabbed Lana’s phone—“twenty hours and”—she glanced at it again—“thirty minutes.”
Lana turned to me. “Kayley’s a whiz with numbers.”
She looked embarrassed. “No, I’m not.”
“Maybe you can help me with my math homework sometime,” I joked.
She gave me a dirty look.
“Or not,” I muttered. Could I say anything right?
“So I’m sure you’ve all heard about the tradition of the bride wearing something old, something new, something
borrowed, and something blue,” Lana went on.
“Um, yeah,” Cassie said. “Anyone who’s ever watched one of those bridal shows knows about that.”
I had never seen a bridal show, but even I knew about that.
“I don’t need the extra commentary, Cassie,” Lana warned. “Anyways, I thought it would be fun if we split the tasks up. Kayley, I thought you could be in charge of the something new; Sammi, you could find something blue—”
“I love blue,” Sammi replied. “It’s my favorite color!”
Lana smiled. “I know. That’s why I’m asking you. I’ll deal with something borrowed, because my friend Charlotte said I could borrow this pearl bracelet of hers that I’ve always loved. And you two,” she said, looking at me and Cassie, “can be in charge of something old.”
The two of us looked at each other. Seriously? Out of everyone, I had to be paired up with her? That was just cruel.
Neither of us looked excited. Which was probably the only time we’d have something in common.
I was tempted to offer just to do it myself. It would give Cassie more time to sit on the couch and watch shows about fake-looking people. And then I heard my mom’s voice: Be the bigger person. I pasted a giant fake smile on my face. “Great!” I chirped. Ow. Fake smiling really hurt your cheeks.
“Whatever,” Cassie replied.
I think it was safe to say my mom wouldn’t like Cassie all that much.
I could see from Lana’s eyes that she was getting more and more frustrated with her. “Wonderful. Matt and I thought this would be a great way for you girls to bond.” It was obvious that in this case “girls” meant the two of us. It was comforting to know that at least my dad was aware that blending this family together wasn’t going to be a piece of cake. If anything, it was going to be like cookie batter with lots of nuts and chocolate chips—really, really bumpy.
Bigger person . . . bigger person. “I’m glad we got the old part,” I said. “I love vintage stuff. I know lots of places we can check out for that.”
Cassie raised her eyebrow. “You mean, like, stuff from thrift stores?”
I shrugged. “Thrift stores . . . garage sales . . .”
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to a garage sale,” she replied.
Why did that not surprise me? I grabbed my leather purse and held it up. “I got this at a garage sale.”
She moved back a bit, as if it was about to infect her.
This was going really well.
Lana got up and started toward the kitchen. “I’m going to leave you girls alone to come up with a game plan. Have fun!”
Have fun? That definitely wasn’t going to happen. After sitting there in silence for a while, Kayley reading a magazine, Sammi flipping her legs over the back of the couch, and Cassie scrolling through her Instagram feed, I realized that if I didn’t take charge and try to organize us, nothing was going to get done. Luckily, I was good at doing that.
“So, um, does anyone have any ideas?” I asked tentatively. “Because if no one else does, I might have a few.” Okay, maybe I didn’t sound all that take-charge-ish at the moment, but it was a start.
“What kind of ideas?” Kayley asked, bored, as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
“Well, in terms of the new thing, when I was shopping with my friend Lexi the other day, we saw these really pretty earrings,” I said. “They’re in the shape of roses, but tiny ones, so tiny that you almost can’t tell they’re roses. And what made them really cool is that they’re gold, but, like, this pinkish gold—”
“Our mother doesn’t have pierced ears,” she cut me off. Which was probably a good thing, because who knew what would have come out of my mouth if I had kept going.
“Oh. Okay,” I replied. “Well, maybe you still want to check out the store. I just remembered that we also saw this supercute little bag. It’s not big—just big enough to hold some makeup and stuff like that—and it’s beaded, but not, like, bright beads, more like—”
She finally put her magazine aside and looked at me. “She just said she’s wearing a pearl bracelet. I don’t know if that would look good with a beaded bag.”
Way to make someone feel about two feet tall. “Okay. You might be right,” I agreed, even though I personally liked to put things together that didn’t necessarily seem to go together. Like rainbow tights and purple high-tops. Or popcorn and hot fudge sauce (that was mine and Lexi’s favorite pig-out food). “There’s also this other store I like—”
“Thanks for all the suggestions, but seeing that I’m the one who’s supposed to come up with the something new, I should probably just find something myself,” she cut me off, sounding annoyed.
I shrank back into the couch. “I was just trying to help,” I replied softly. “I just thought because you guys just moved here—”
She held up her phone. “That’s what Yelp is for.”
“I’d like to go to that store,” Sammi piped up. “And I’ll just say, ‘Please show me all of your blue stuff.’ ”
I smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll take you. And afterward we can go to my favorite ice cream place.”
“I LOVE ice cream!” she exclaimed. She pointed to her sisters. “They only eat frozen yogurt. I think it tastes disgusting.”
I thought it tasted disgusting too, but I didn’t dare say that. “They also have frozen yogurt. And tons of toppings to choose from.” I liked the toppings better than the yogurt.
“How exciting,” Cassie said.
I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. And it wasn’t like I was going to ask.
Lana popped her head in. “How’s it going? Are you having fun?” she asked hopefully.
“Totally,” Cassie said.
Lana smiled. “I thought you would. Avery, your dad called—he’ll be home in about a half hour and will take you home.”
“Great,” I replied. It would probably be rude to pull out my phone and set the timer.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you girls get back to planning,” she said.
We went back to the awkward-silence thing.
“So . . . do you want to talk about the something old?” I finally asked. It was either continue with brainstorming or sit in awkward silence.
“I guess,” Cassie said, bored.
“What do you think about a scrapbook?” I asked. Before I started making jewelry, I was way into scrapbooking. Not only did I take a class at the library, but Mrs. Agnelli, my art teacher, asked if I would help teach the little kids in the after-school enrichment program.
Cassie wrinkled her nose again. “A scrapbook? That’s so . . . five years ago.”
I shrugged. “I think it could be cool. People always save things that are important to them. Like ticket stubs and e-mails and pictures, and they always think they’ll get around to putting them all together, but they never do,” I replied. “We could get hold of all the stuff that has to do with my dad and your mom falling in love and put it together.”
She shook her head. “My mom doesn’t save that kind of stuff.”
“She doesn’t save pictures?” I asked.
“Yeah, of course pictures. Anyone with a phone can save those. But not ticket stubs. That’s just corny.”
I saved all sorts of stuff. Especially ticket stubs. I had the stub from every movie I had ever seen. I was planning on gluing them on a little side table one day when I had enough to cover it. I crossed my arms. “Fine. Do you have any ideas, then?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”
After their reactions, I figured I shouldn’t bring up my other idea—the one I really thought would be neat—which was me making a charm bracelet for Lana made up of charms representing us four girls and my dad. I could only imagine what her response to that would be. For some reason I was embarrassed to tell them I made jewelry.
So she would come up with something? Not we would? “I thought we were supposed to do this together,” I said.
“Well, yeah, but she’s our mother, so we know what she likes. I mean, this is only your second time meeting her,” Cassie replied.
I glared at her. I wanted to think that she had no idea of how mean that sounded, but I had a feeling I was wrong.
Five
there are no words to describe my mortification at the moment, I texted Lexi from the bathroom. I had been hiding in there for the last ten minutes or so and had spent most of that time texting her a recap of what had gone on since I had been at the house.
DO YOU WANT ME TO GET MY THESAURUS AND TRY AND HELP YOU COME UP WITH SOME? she texted back.
I sighed. It was great to have a best friend who was always there when you needed her, but sometimes what she said when trying to help was not all that helpful.
Right then I heard my dad walk into the house. if you need me, i’ll be the one hiding under a rock, I typed, before putting my phone down.
“Where’s Avery?” I heard him ask Lana after they were done kissing. (Unfortunately, because the bathroom was right off the kitchen, I could hear that as well.)
“In the living room with the girls,” she replied.
“No, she’s not.”
“She’s not?” she said, confused. “She was a half hour ago . . . .”
Good to know that if I was kidnapped, no one would notice for a few hours. I was tempted to keep hiding for a little bit but decided that would be mean.
“Oh, hi,” I said, trying to look surprised as I walked out of the bathroom. I didn’t want them to think I had been eavesdropping. Or, worse, listening to them kissing.
“Hey there,” my dad said. At first it looked like he was going to hug me, but then he changed his mind at the last minute and just patted my shoulder. “How’s it going? Have you been having fun with the girls?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
“Isn’t the house great?” he asked.
“I haven’t really—”
“What do you think of your room? It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“I don’t—”
“I haven’t seen your room in your mom’s house, but I can’t imagine it’s as big as this.”
Exactly. He had never seen my room because he had never bothered to come inside when he dropped me off.