by Robin Palmer
But then I turned the page again, to one that said “And Now . . . a Little Bit About YOU!” That was weird. There were pictures of me—ones starting from when I was a baby, which they must have gotten from Mom, all the way up to recent ones that had been taken by Lexi—with words cut out from magazines surrounding them. Words like “creative,” “sassy,” “one-of-a-kind.” There was even one that said “razzmatazz” with a bunch of exclamation points after it. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but then I remembered one day last week when Sammi was running around yelling it at the top of her lungs, so I figured she was responsible for that one. Especially because the way it was glued on wasn’t the neatest. After all the pictures, I turned the page to find three pieces of lined notebook paper pasted onto the pages. Each was a letter that talked about the things they admired about me and how excited they were to have me as a sister.
Dazed, I shut the scrapbook. This had to be a mistake. Or maybe Lana had put them up to it. The whole thing was so . . . nice.
Just then my dad came down the stairs, followed by Lana—whose hair was still blue—and behind her, Kayley and Sammi.
My dad turned. “Cassie, get down here, please. Now.”
I heard the sound of heavy steps. The kind that said, Fine, I’ll come, but I’m doing this totally against my will and only because you’re making me.
When everyone was downstairs and seated in the living room, my dad began to pace. “Well, now seems like as good a time as any to have our first official meeting.” He stopped midpace and gave us a look. “Lana filled me in on what happened and—more importantly—what was said by you girls.”
I slunk down farther into the couch, to the point where I might as well have been lying down. Cassie’s response was to cross her arms and stick her bottom lip out. Kayley looked like she was going to cry (I had noticed that that happened any time an adult didn’t praise her). And Sammi? She was busy trying to get up into a headstand.
My dad seemed to be waiting for one of us to say something.
“Well, does anyone have anything to say?” he asked.
We all kept quiet.
Finally Sammi popped right side up and raised her hand.
“Yes, Sammi?” my dad said.
“That was the longest I’ve been able to stay up in a headstand,” she replied. “It was four whole Mississippis.”
From the way my dad’s mouth twisted, I could tell he was trying not to laugh. “That’s terrific, Sammi.”
She nodded and put her head back down to get into another headstand.
“Anyone else have something to add?” he asked.
No one said anything.
“Okay. I’ll talk, then.” He started pacing again. “Blending a family together is never easy. I didn’t expect this to happen without bumps in the road.”
Bumps? In our case it was more like we had just driven off a cliff.
“Which is why communication is so important. I’ve had to learn the hard way what happens when you’re not a good communicator,” he said, looking at me, “and I don’t want our family to suffer like that.” He stopped pacing and said, “Avery, why don’t you start?”
“Start with what?” I asked.
“Start with . . . what you’d like the girls to know. About, you know, what happened.”
“I already said I was sorry!” I replied. “A bunch of times. Just like I already told Cassie and Lana that I have no idea why the hair mask made their hair turn blue!”
As I turned to Cassie, I caught her eyebrow going up. “You keep acting like I did it on purpose!”
“Avery . . . ,” my dad warned.
“What? You said you wanted us to communicate. I’m communicating!”
“Yes, well, I’d like you to communicate a little less loudly, please.”
I continued my slunking. I wasn’t even sure if that was a word, but I liked it.
He turned to Cassie. “Cassie, would you like to share with us how you feel?”
“How do I feel?” she demanded. “Why don’t we start with how I look? Because how I look is totally ridiculous!”
My dad nodded. “I can understand how you might not feel that blue hair is all that attractive.”
Cassie looked at him like he was nuts.
“But it’s not the end of the world,” he went on. He motioned to Lana. “Look at the bright side—you get to look like your mother!”
From the expression on Lana’s face, that wasn’t the best answer. In fact, from the glare she was giving my dad, that was a really dumb answer.
“Don’t you need something blue for the wedding?” he asked.
She thought about it. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it . . . .”
Sammi came down from her headstand. “But what about the blue turtle pin I got you?”
Lana smiled as she smoothed her hair back. “I guess I’ll be lucky enough to have two blue things.”
My dad exhaled. “Finally. Some progress.” He turned to Cassie again. “Cassie, sometimes things happen that are out of our control. And we can either accept that and roll with it, or we can fight against it and be resentful toward other people.”
Cassie continued to stare at the floor.
“Do you know what they say about resentment?” he asked.
“No,” she mumbled.
“They say that resenting someone is like taking poison and thinking the other person is the one who will suffer.”
“Huh. I like that,” Kayley said.
“Thanks. Me too,” he said with a smile, before putting his serious face back on. “Cassie, do you have anything to say about that?”
She looked up and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, I raised my hand. “Can I say something?” I blurted out.
Instead of looking mad, she looked relieved that I had interrupted. I knew it was a risk, but if I didn’t say what I was about to, I’d lose my nerve. I held up the scrapbook. “I just found this.”
Cassie looked like she wished it was back under the couch.
“I’m not sure what it’s for, but—”
“It was our wedding gift to you,” Kayley said shyly.
“You guys got me a gift?” I asked, surprised.
“No!” Sammi said. “We made it for you. ’Cause you like homemade things.”
I smiled. “That was a really great idea, Sammi.”
“It wasn’t her idea,” Kayley corrected, “it was Cassie’s.”
I had passed surprised and was in the neighborhood of shocked. “Seriously?”
Cassie looked like she wanted to kill Kayley. She shrugged. “Whatever. You don’t have to look like it’s such a big deal, because it’s not.”
“I think it’s a huge deal,” I said quietly. “Especially the letters you guys wrote at the end.”
Now Cassie was the one who looked like she wanted to disappear.
“Ever since I found out you guys existed, I’ve been trying so hard to get you to like me so I’d feel like I fit in,” I confessed. “But every time I did that, it just backfired on me. And then when I decided to just be honest and be myself,” I went on, with a glance at Cassie, “that’s when things seemed to get better.”
My dad nodded. “You can’t go wrong with that.”
“So, in the spirit of that, I just want to say that I honestly had no idea that the face mask was going to make our skin sting, or that the hair mask was going to turn your hair blue. And if you seriously think that I did, then you obviously don’t know me like you think you do, and I’m not going to sit here apologizing and try and change your mind.”
“I know you didn’t know,” Cassie said quietly.
A wave of relief washed over me. “Good. I’m glad.” Okay, where was all this . . . strength coming from? This was so not me. But . . . maybe it was me, and it just hadn’t had a chance to come out before.
“I really, really, really want to be you guys’ sister—not your stepsister,” I confessed. “And I hope you feel the same way, because
if you don’t, that’s going to be really awkward.”
Luckily, everyone laughed. It wasn’t a big laugh—more like a nervous one—but it was something.
Like, maybe a start.
“I want that too!” Sammi yelled.
“Me too,” Kayley added.
I smiled at them.
We all turned, waiting for Cassie.
“I do too,” she finally said.
I didn’t smile at her. I got up and went over and hugged her.
Because that’s what sisters do.
Thirteen
When Lana’s hairdresser friend called back later and had Lana read her all the ingredients in the mask, she had no idea what could have made their hair turn blue. Which meant she didn’t have a suggestion as to how to make it unblue, either. The fact that the next day was Sunday, which meant that all the hair salons were closed, didn’t help things. Because it was already midnight, Lana decided that we should all go to sleep and maybe time would help somehow and that another shower in the morning would take care of things.
As she and Cassie showered at eight o’clock the next morning, I made everyone a batch of my special chocolate chip pancakes. Because Mom wasn’t there to be the sugar police, I was able to add as many chips as I wanted, which was about three quarters of the package.
“These are the BEST PANCAKES EVER!” Sammi shrieked as she ran around the table after finishing the one I had given her. I had tried to make it in the shape of Mickey Mouse, but instead it had resembled a camel.
“I’m glad you like them,” I laughed.
Kayley gave up on using her fork and knife and decided to eat them like I usually did—reaching down and using a finger to scoop up the gooey chocolate. As I watched her, I smiled. It was nice to see her being so . . . messy. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
She looked up and stopped with her finger in midair. She looked so guilty you would have thought she had been caught robbing a bank. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as she quickly reached for her fork.
“Hopefully, you were thinking, Avery’s such a great cook I can’t even bother to pick up a fork before I dig in!” I replied as I dipped my finger into my own pancake. “Not to brag, but I totally outdid myself with this batch.”
She smiled and put down her fork. “Totally,” she agreed as she followed my lead.
We were still eating (in addition to being delicious, the pancakes were also addictive) when Lana and Cassie came down a few minutes later with towels wrapped around their heads.
“Did it work?” I asked anxiously. I picked up the plates I had made for them. “Here—before you answer that, take these,” I ordered as I held the pancakes out toward them. “No matter what, they’ll make you feel better.”
Lana and Cassie looked at each other and took off their towels.
My heart sank. “It’s still blue,” I sighed.
“I think it’s actually more blue,” Kayley said.
“Looks like there’s going to be two other something blues in addition to the turtle,” Lana said.
We turned to Cassie. I waited for her to freak out, but instead she dug into her pancake and took a bite. “These are good,” she said with her mouth full.
Huh. Maybe there was hope for all of us.
* * *
Lexi might have been a drama queen, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. Because when things got crazy dramatic—like they did when you had blue hair on the day of a wedding—she had a knack for coming up with brilliant ideas.
Which was why I decided to call and fill her in on what was going on.
After a bunch of gasps and a few reactions of “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING!” and “That’s INSANE!!!” I asked her if she had any ideas as to what we might do.
“I probably do, but I think before I share them, I should come over there so I can get a complete look at the situation,” she replied.
Why did I know she was going to say that? That was another thing about Lexi—it wasn’t good enough for her just to hear about drama. She had to be in the thick of it whenever possible.
“Well, sure, that would obviously be best,” I said, half lying, “but I don’t know how that’s going to work, seeing that I’m at my dad’s rather than at home.”
“I’ll call you right back,” she said quickly, before hanging up.
Sure enough, she did. To share the news that her mom had agreed to drive her and she’d be there in a half hour.
* * *
“You guys are sure you want to do this?” Lana said later as we all crowded into her bathroom.
Me, Kayley, and Sammi nodded.
“It was Lexi’s idea, and we think it’s an awesome one,” said Kayley.
“Thanks,” Lexi said. “But when I come up with really awesome ones like this one, I feel like I can’t totally take credit for them. It’s almost like they’re gifts from the universe, you know?”
“I really appreciate the sentiment, but having all of you have blue hair feels like a bit too much,” Lana replied.
“But we’re a family,” I said. I looked at the clock. “Or at least we will be in three hours. And this is what families do.”
Lana thought about it and then hugged me. “We’re already a family. It’ll just be official as far as the law is concerned.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Cassie said.
“I’d do it too,” Lexi offered. “Not that, you know, I was invited to the wedding,” she replied. “Which I could totally still come to even if I were invited at the last minute, because I happen to be free this afternoon.”
All I did was shake my head. There was too much going on for me to be embarrassed about what she was doing. I watched as Lana’s lips twisted into a smile, which she quickly tried to get rid of. “I’m so glad to hear that,” Lana said. “Because I think it would be wonderful if you could join us.”
“For real?!” Lexi gasped.
Lana nodded.
“Awesome! Luckily, I already know what I’m going to wear.”
Why did that not surprise me?
Lana picked up the tube of hair mask. “Well, if we’re going to do this, we ought to get going.”
* * *
I guess it would’ve looked strange if two members of a family had blue hair, but when an entire family did, it seemed kind of normal. Well, maybe if that family lived on another planet. But still.
At first my dad was a little hesitant about the idea, but when he saw how excited the three of us were about it, he agreed to go along. As Kayley shampooed the mask out of my hair in the sink, I got worried that maybe it wouldn’t work—that for some reason my hair wouldn’t change at all, or worse, it would turn pink or something—but once she said, “Okay—all done,” and I popped my head up and looked in the mirror, I saw that I was safe. In this case, “safe” meant I had really, really blue hair. Sammi was so excited about the whole thing that she started begging Lana to let her keep her hair blue forever.
Mom and Lexi arrived at Cara Mia an hour before the ceremony was supposed to start, when me and the PFKABBs (People Formerly Known as BBs, as I couldn’t really call them that anymore) were placing the mason jars full of tulips we had gotten at Trader Joe’s around the dining room. (I had suggested the idea to Lana after seeing it on some HGTV decorating show about DIY weddings).
When she saw Lana, Mom’s mouth twisted into a big O, which led me to believe that, for once, Lexi had actually kept a secret.
“Mom,” I whispered, embarrassed, when she continued to stand there without moving.
“Mom,” I whispered again, this time louder.
“Have you posted a picture on Instagram yet?” Lexi asked. “You’ll get so many regrams on it!”
“She’s totally right,” Cassie said, reaching for her phone and taking a selfie.
As Mom set up her camera gear, I filled her in on what had happened. By the end she couldn’t stop laughing. Which, now that it was over, made me start laughing as well.
&nb
sp; Mom hugged me. “How much do I love the fact that I have a daughter who is so lacking vanity she’d do that for someone?”
I cocked my head. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment, Mom.”
She kissed my cheek. “Oh, it is. Believe me.”
When my dad and Lana walked in from the other room, Mom burst out laughing. “Sorry,” she said through her giggles. “It’s just . . . Matt, do you remember that time in college when you sprayed my Sun In in your hair by mistake?”
He squinted. “Oh yeah . . . ,” he said as he remembered. He started to laugh. “I looked like Bozo the Clown.”
Lana laughed too, but hers was a little too forced. “You never told me about that.”
He shrugged. “I guess I had forgotten until right now.” He smiled at Mom. “That was a funny time.”
From the look on Lana’s face, that was not what she wanted to hear. Mom noticed it too, because she immediately wiped the smile off her face. “Actually, it wasn’t that funny,” she said quickly.
“What are you talking about?” Dad asked. “Every time you thought about it for the next year, you’d laugh so hard you’d cry!”
Mom gave him the faintest shake of her head and motioned to Lana with her eyes. Finally he got it. “But thinking about it now, you’re right. It was actually pretty stupid.”
Lana didn’t look convinced. “Excuse me for a second. I’m going to go . . . do something,” she said, her voice wavering as she ran toward the other room.
Mom looked shocked. “I feel awful . . . I didn’t mean . . .”
My dad waved her off. “It’s not you. She’s just been a little stressed the last few days. You know, the wedding and all . . .” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as her.
Mom nodded. “Right. Of course. Prewedding jitters.” She didn’t seem all that convinced either.
“I’ll be right back,” I announced. I glanced over at where Lexi was showing Cassie how to hold the camera for the best selfie angle, according to something she had read online by Kim Kardashian.