“Jessie, it’s complicated, okay?” Orlando interrupted. “If I go back, I’ll be there when my mom gets back.”
Jessie shook her head, confused at Orlando’s logic. His mom had abandoned him. He had been living in a garden shed. Why wouldn’t he want the security of living with Mr. Jeet and Miss Josie?
“We want you to be safe,” Jessie said.
“Listen,” Orlando said impatiently. “My mom isn’t like your mom. She needs my help. And please don’t get your family involved. I don’t want them to know about this.”
“Why not?” Jessie asked. “We all care about you. We want to help.”
Orlando shook his head. “It’s just—I mean—I don’t want the whole world to know my business. My mom isn’t a terrible person, but I feel like that’s what people immediately think.”
“You can’t seriously be thinking about going back to Georgia, though. Why go to your Aunt Tammy’s when you can stay here with us? I know you didn’t like living with her.”
Orlando leaned forward in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head. “Can we stop talking about this? I need to figure out what my mom is planning first. She needs my help.”
“But what about you?” Jessie asked, her voice rising. “Don’t you need help too? And what about us? What about Miss Josie and Mr. Jeet? We need you, and we would never, ever abandon you!”
“That’s not fair,” Orlando said, his voice rising to meet hers. “You can’t possibly understand the situation.”
Ms. Brown’s voice rose over the chatter. “Jessie, Orlando? Everything okay?”
“Sure,” said Jessie, flashing Ms. Brown a smile, then glaring at Orlando.
Orlando sighed, his anger deflating. “I haven’t decided anything yet. I don’t want to leave, but things are . . . complicated. Can we just be normal? I’ve got a lot on my mind. I can’t worry about us, too.”
Jessie nodded, but it wasn’t okay. In her mind, she kept seeing that dark, dank shed. In her heart, she knew nothing would feel better until Orlando was permanently living in the brownstone, where they could make sure he was safe.
* * *
That afternoon when the last bell rang, Oliver met Hyacinth outside her classroom. She was standing in the back, alone, while her classmates jostled and joked in front of her. Oliver jumped up and down on his sneakers, waving his hands at her, and when she spotted him her face broke into a big smile. Pushing her way to the front of the classroom, she said goodbye to her teacher, and Oliver led the way down to the kindergarten classrooms. Laney was surrounded by her whole class, her arms moving up and down as she told a story. When she spotted Oliver and Hyacinth, she hugged all of her friends and then her teacher before joining her siblings.
They walked through the school doors and into the cool autumn afternoon. Orlando was standing by an oak tree with golden leaves that fluttered in the breeze, a hand in one pocket of his jacket. When he saw them, he lifted his chin, and Laney sprinted toward him and launched herself into his arms.
“Hi, Orlando!” called Eliza, Tamir, Andrew, and Paige, kids from Hyacinth’s grade who were leaving school behind them. Orlando gave them high fives as they passed by to get on the school buses.
Everyone in the third grade knew Orlando because once the year before he’d had a day off from school on the same day as Special Visitor’s Day. Papa had had a meeting at work and Mama had to be at the bakery for a health department inspection, so Orlando had volunteered to be Hyacinth’s Special Visitor. Unlike the other visitors, Orlando hadn’t sat on the sidelines and chatted during recess. He’d joined the kids on the jungle gym and played the cat game with Hyacinth and her friends, and back in the classroom, he’d taught the kids football drills when they got antsy. Then he’d helped the teachers put up a new bulletin board.
Ever since that day, his appearance had been cause for celebration. Whenever the third graders saw him, they flocked to him as if he were a professional NBA basketball player.
“Where’s Isa?” Oliver asked when he reached Orlando. Isa usually picked them up on Mondays and walked them home.
“Mr. Van Hooten wanted her to come in for an extra lesson after school,” Orlando said. “My cross-country practice doesn’t start for another hour, so I said I’d swing by and walk you home.”
“Hey,” Oliver said as they headed for 141st Street. “I have the best news for you.”
“Oh yeah?” Orlando said. “Tell me.”
“Coach Mendoza said there’s a football league in Harlem,” Oliver told him. “We just need to send him a video of you playing football. I was thinking of that one video where the quarterback threw to you and you ran fifty-three yards to make a touchdown? That was epic.”
“Um, sure,” Orlando said, running his hands through his short locks.
“Isn’t that great about the Harlem team?” Oliver continued.
Orlando glanced at Oliver. “Yeah, that’s cool, man. Thanks.”
“And another great thing happened today,” Oliver continued. “Coach Mendoza let Jimmy L, Angie, and me train with his high school basketball team, and he said we could come back whenever we want to because his team doesn’t want to be beat by middle schoolers and worked harder around us. So we’re totally going to go to all their morning practices now.”
Hyacinth looked at him with startled eyes. “Wait, does that mean I have to go to school early every day now?
“Only three times a week,” Oliver said. “Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.”
“But I don’t want to go in early,” Hyacinth said. “I want to be there three minutes before the bell rings, like always. I hate waiting in the cafeteria.”
“You could ask Jessie to take you,” Oliver suggested.
“She’s so grouchy in the mornings,” Hyacinth said. “She’ll say no.”
“Aren’t Malia and Lucy there?” Orlando asked.
Hyacinth shook her head. “They don’t go to my school anymore. It’s just me now.” She looked so forlorn that even Oliver felt bad for her, but not bad enough to give up an epic basketball opportunity.
“What about the other kids in your class? Have you made new friends?” Orlando asked.
“Not really,” Hyacinth said. “I don’t like talking to people I don’t know.”
“They’re in your class,” Oliver pointed out. “They’re not strangers.”
“I still don’t like it,” Hyacinth said, her lips pursed. “They don’t like talking to me.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Orlando said. “You’re a great friend. You’re fun to be around, you’re interesting, you’re nice. What’s not to like?”
Hyacinth shrugged. “I tried to talk to a girl in my class before school this morning, but right before I was going say something, a bunch of people came over.”
“You could have still talked to her,” Oliver said.
“I don’t like talking when there’s a lot of people around,” Hyacinth said. “Sometimes I say something and people ignore me and then it makes me not want to talk. I’m not like you. Everyone loves you immediately.”
Orlando smiled down at Hyacinth and ruffled her hair. “It’s okay to be quiet and enjoy time by yourself, but it sounds like you miss having a couple of really good friends.”
Hyacinth thought about it. “I don’t need a lot of friends, but it would be nice to have one or two.”
Orlando nodded. “Why don’t we work on that? You know, I used to be shy when I was little.”
Hyacinth, Laney, and Oliver’s mouths dropped open.
“You used to be shy?” Hyacinth said.
“Yep,” Orlando said. “That’s why I can help you. I’ve got a tried-and-true recipe for success. We just need to give you some confidence.”
Hyacinth was skeptical. “I don’t think that will work.”
Oliver looked at Hyacinth. “I don’t know why you need confidence. You’re the coolest person.”
Hyacinth’s eyes grew wide with wonder. She pointed to herself. “Me?”
> “Yeah,” Oliver said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Orlando clapped a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “We’re going to get Hyacinth filled with confidence in no time!” He turned toward Hyacinth.
Hyacinth swallowed.
“Your first lesson,” Orlando told her, “is tonight after dinner. Be ready.”
Ten
When she arrived home, Laney immediately packed Paganini in his carrier, picked up Tuxedo and settled him around her shoulders like a neck pillow, and headed upstairs to Miss Josie and Mr. Jeet’s place. The nice thing about wearing turtlenecks was that they protected her skin from Tuxedo’s claws.
Ms. Geraldine, Laney’s least favorite of the three nurses who took care of Mr. Jeet, opened the door before Laney even made it to the top of the steps.
“Shhhh,” Ms. Geraldine said, holding a finger to her lips.
“How did you know it was me?” Laney asked, hopping up the final three steps.
“Because you are very loud,” Ms. Geraldine said.
“Hmph,” Laney said, annoyed. Mr. Jeet, Miss Josie, and Mr. Beiderman never complained that she was loud. She walked into the apartment as quietly as she could and found Mr. Jeet napping in his hospital bed.
“He’s resting, so don’t bother him,” Ms. Geraldine said, her eyes narrowed.
Laney glowered back at her. Mr. Jeet was Laney’s best friend; she knew how to treat him when he was tired! She slipped by, hoping Ms. Geraldine wouldn’t notice her bag.
“And do not take that rabbit from your bag,” Ms. Geraldine continued. “It is very disruptive, and I don’t want to clean up after that dirty animal.”
Rabbits are very clean! Laney wanted to protest. But instead she (quietly) shuffled her way to the living room and sat down in the big armchair that had been Mr. Jeet’s favorite until recently. These days, Mr. Jeet was either in bed or in his wheelchair, no more sitting in his favorite dark-green armchair with the tiny white flowers. Laney snuggled into the chair, pulled her turtleneck up to her mouth, and chewed on it. Tuxedo unwrapped herself from Laney’s neck and jumped down to inspect Billie Holiday’s ears.
Because Laney wasn’t allowed to let Paganini out, she kept the bag on her lap, zipped up. She turned her head to one side and breathed in. She could smell Mr. Jeet’s familiar scent, a combination of gardens and clean, good earth. It reminded her of the community garden, and she wondered if she could take Mr. Jeet there that weekend. Orlando would have to help carry him downstairs, which made Laney wonder what would happen if Orlando left to go back to Georgia. What would Mr. Jeet and Miss Josie do without his help?
Mr. Jeet stirred and opened his eyes, and Laney stood and put Paganini’s carrier on the bed. Then she climbed up next to Mr. Jeet and squeezed his hand.
“Hi, Mr. Jeet,” she said.
He waved the fingertips of his left hand weakly.
Footsteps came from the kitchen, and the nurse tsked at Laney. “No, no, Lulu, give Mr. Jeet some space.”
“It’s Laney,” Laney said.
Mr. Jeet waved Ms. Geraldine’s concerns away and shook his head, and Ms. Geraldine started to protest.
“He likes it when I sit here,” Laney said. “He doesn’t want me to leave; that’s what he’s trying to tell you. I know, because he’s my best friend and I’ve known him my whole life.”
“Fine, fine,” the nurse said, turning and heading back to sit at the dining room table. “Just be careful!”
Laney yanked up her turtleneck and bit down on it hard. Of course she’d be careful! She wished Ms. Geraldine would leave them alone. She turned to Mr. Jeet, who waved in the direction of Paganini’s case.
“Do you want him to come out?” she asked, her hand going to the zipper.
Mr. Jeet nodded.
Laney glanced uneasily at Ms. Geraldine, who was absorbed in something on her phone. Seeing that the nurse was preoccupied, Laney unzipped her bag. Paganini bounded out with a flourish and looked around to see where he was. Recognizing Mr. Jeet, he hopped a few paces forward and rested his front feet and chin on Mr. Jeet’s chest. Billie Holiday sat by the hospital bed and let out a big sigh at the injustice of a rabbit being on the bed when she had to stay on the floor.
“I was thinking,” Laney said as she stroked Paganini’s head, “that you haven’t seen the garden lately. Mr. Jones has a mystery plant! It came out of his planter even though he didn’t plant it, and no one knew what it was but he figured he would let it grow and see what happens. He calls it his bonus plant. Now it’s a long vine creeping along the ground like a monster. And last week a thing that looks like a pumpkin started growing on the vine, but instead of being orange and bumpy it’s green and very smooth. Jessie and Orlando tried to figure out what it is from the internet. I’m pretty sure if you took one look at it you could tell what it is.”
Mr. Jeet gave her a half smile, then looked as if he was going to say something. Laney held her breath and listened really hard, but nothing came out of his mouth. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Laney sat back, disappointed.
The click of a door revealed Miss Josie emerging from the bathroom. She was wrapped in a beautiful floral bathrobe, and her hair was in curlers underneath her shower cap.
“How nice to see you, Laney,” she said, smiling wide. “How are you doing today?”
Laney hopped off the bed and gave Miss Josie a big hug. “I’m good. Do you think Mr. Jeet can come to the garden this weekend? I have so much to show him.”
“Oh, honey, I’m not sure,” Miss Josie said. “I would love to bring him, but he has been really tired lately, and it’s quite cold outside.”
Laney pulled at her turtleneck, fidgeting with the hem. “Maybe next week, then?”
“We’ll see how he’s feeling,” Miss Josie said. “He needs a lot of rest these days, doesn’t he? I know he appreciates you coming by every afternoon to keep him company.”
“Of course,” Laney said. “That’s what best friends do, right?”
“We are so lucky to have you,” Miss Josie said. “Now I have an idea: why don’t I get us some afternoon tea?”
Laney nodded—she loved afternoon tea—and Miss Josie headed to the kitchen.
Ms. Geraldine came by and scowled at the sight of Paganini stretched out on the bed. “I’ve got to do Mr. Jeet’s checkup,” she said stiffly; then she pointed at Paganini as if he were a nest of fire ants. “Please put that away.”
Laney scowled back, picked up Paganini, and placed him gently in his carrier. She set it on the floor next to Billie Holiday and Tuxedo and watched as Ms. Geraldine checked Mr. Jeet’s blood pressure, temperature, and heart monitor. Laney kept peeking at the numbers, but she couldn’t tell what anything meant. She pulled her turtleneck back up and retreated to the place where everything was fine and Mr. Jeet was healthy again and they didn’t need mean nurses like Ms. Geraldine ordering them around.
* * *
After her violin lesson with Mr. Van Hooten, Isa headed to the Treehouse Bakery to meet Allegra and work on the dog-walking posters.
She took her time making her way to the café from the music school. Autumn was her favorite season; the leaves had changed from their late-summer dark-green color to a mix of burgundies, oranges, and golds. The cool breeze blew through her hair, and she took a deep breath and appreciated how the crisp air filled her lungs and made everything feel fresh and new.
Isa hitched the strap of her violin case higher on her shoulder. As she passed a tan brownstone with ivy creeping up the bricks, she realized she was walking along 139th Street. Benny’s apartment was on the opposite side of the street. That reminded her to ask him about the homecoming dance, which was the Saturday before the marathon.
She had gone to last year’s homecoming with Benny when she was in eighth grade and he was a freshman in high school, though it was still a mystery why there was a homecoming dance at all since Powell High School didn’t even have a football team.
Isa thought about stopping
by his place, but she needed to get to the café, and Benny worked at his parents’ bakery on Mondays anyway. As she got closer to the middle of the block, she glanced across the street and saw Benny sitting on a bench in front of his building. He must have had an unexpected day off.
She was about to call out to him and cross the street to say hello, but then she realized he wasn’t alone.
Sitting next to him was a girl she had never seen before.
Eleven
Isa didn’t stop walking. She trained her eyes forward and kept going until she passed the bench, hoping Benny wouldn’t notice her. When she got to the end of the block, she slowed down, let out a breath, and looked back, peeking around a silver minivan to get another look at Benny and the mystery girl. There they were, sitting together on the bench, paying no attention to her or to anyone else. Isa hadn’t recognized the girl in that brief glance when she’d walked by, and now she was too far away to see clearly.
Who was she? And why was Benny sitting with her? Isa watched for a few minutes, then she reluctantly turned the corner and made her way toward the café. Three kittens that had arrived the previous day were snoozing in a hammock in front of the large window seat.
Allegra was already there, leaning over the counter and chatting with Jason, one of the cashiers. Jason was a junior at their high school, and Allegra had a huge crush on him.
Purl One scampered up and gave a squeaky meow when Isa entered the café. After resting her backpack and violin by a table, Isa picked up Purl One and cradled the cat to her chest, trying to get some comfort from the rumbly purrs.
“Hey, girl,” Allegra said, setting two hot chocolates on the table. “Where’ve you been? Not that I’m complaining—I got to talk to Jason for four point three minutes. Do you think he likes me? Wait,” Allegra said, putting her hands in front of her. “Don’t answer that! I can’t handle the truth. I will just sit here quietly and hold on to my impossible dream that he will ask me to homecoming. You’re so lucky you have an automatic date to the dance.”
The Vanderbeekers Lost and Found Page 6