“Well, I live with my mom. I’m not thrilled about sharing her with someone, especially not Horse Ass, but at least she’s always around. But my dad—I hardly get to see him at all. So sharing him with someone is really hard.”
I thought about it some more.
“Plus with my dad still single, it meant there was still hope.” My voice cracked when I said the word hope. “But once my dad gets married, that means it’s permanent. That my parents are really never ever getting back together,” I said. And then I started to cry again. Vivvy’s eyes started welling up too. She gave my hand a quick squeeze.
“Vivvy? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I want to go to Hawaii anymore. I’m just not ready to deal with everything that’s changed yet,” I said.
“Are you sure you want to miss out on Hawaii?” Claudia asked.
“And deal with CJ?” Vivvy added.
“I know, I know . . . I know how crazy I sound. It’s weird. I didn’t want to leave Philly to come here. Then I didn’t want to be here. Then I wanted to go to Hawaii. And now I don’t anymore.”
“Then you should go back,” Vivvy said. “If being here feels wrong and you don’t have to go to Hawaii, then you shouldn’t.”
I’m really starting to like Vivvy. Which is pretty convenient now that she might be my stepsister one day.
“I guess she’s right,” said Claudia, nodding.
“We’ll miss you,” said Pia.
“I’ll miss you too,” I told them. “You guys will just have to come to Philadelphia soon.”
By the time I got home, the kitchen was clear of all traces of Danny.
I went upstairs to call the airline, but this time my friendly customer service representative wasn’t so friendly. She asked for a seventy-five-dollar ticket-change fee.
“Oh no, that’s okay, my mother is a valued customer. I don’t have to pay the fee,” I told her.
“That’s not how it works, honey,” the not-so-friendly customer service representative responded.
“That’s how it worked last time I changed my ticket,” I told her.
“We can’t keep waiving the fee as a courtesy. If we did, your mother would stop being so valuable to us,” said the not-so you-know-what, you-know-who.
I thanked her for her time and hung up. Poor Mom—I wonder if she knows that her “friends” at Delta only value her for her money?
Now how am I going to change my ticket back?
I have seventy-five dollars saved up from my allowance, but I have no way of getting it to them. If only I could promise to give it to them as soon as I get to the airport. Or fax it to them. Or put it in an envelope with a note to the mailman asking him not to hold the envelope in front of the light to see if there’s any cash inside for him to pocket.
Oh, it’s Jeremy IM’ing me. Please hold . . .
JC26E4U: hey. Whaddya think of this?
I saw Raisin kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night.
She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep;
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep.
Then I saw Raisin tickle Santa Claus
Underneath his beard so snowy white;
Oh, what a laugh it would have been if CJ had only seen
Raisin kissing Santa Claus last night.
raisinrodriguez: what is it?
JC26E4U: my new song, “I Saw Raisin Kissing Santa Claus”
raisinrodriguez: what’s wrong with “Raisin the Red-Eyed Person”?
JC26E4U: I don’t think that song works any more since yer having a better time now and stuff. I’d rather sing something more true to life. raisinrodriguez: I don’t know. . . .
JC26E4U: why raisinrodriguez: I guess I’m not sure that’s true about me having a better time now.
JC26E4U: why? What happened? raisinrodriguez: I dunno. I found out that my dad has a new girlfriend.
JC26E4U: and that’s a bad thing? raisinrodriguez: sort of. I guess I just wasn’t really prepared for it.
JC26E4U: oh. I get it. like when you first met Vivvy raisinrodriguez: yeah. Kinda like that.
JC26E4U: what are you going to do? raisinrodriguez: well, I’m trying to see if I can still come home for New Year’s. I changed my ticket, but now I’m trying to change it back again.
JC26E4U: that’d be cool. I hope they let you do it. raisinrodriguez: me too.
JC26E4U: I’ll just stick with “Raisin the Red-Eyed Person” for now. raisinrodriguez: No no no. You should sing the song you wrote. Maybe I’ll feel better by then. Lately my moods change every time I blink anyway.
Comments:
Logged in at 9:24 PM, PST
Lynn: That’d be cool if you ended up making it back here for New Year’s. Why don’t you ask Sam if you can use her credit card to make the change?
Logged in at 9:25 PM, PST
Fippy: I’m glad you found out the truth about Danny before you went to Hawaii. That’s why we wanted you to call us this morning, Because we kind of figured that the red-striped pajamas could only mean one thing.
What are you going to do about CJ?
Wednesday, December 29
9:29 AM, PST
Dear Lynn and Fippy of the cat world,
I can’t get Sam to answer her cell. I might be out of options. If only I could just tell my dad the truth and ask to use his credit card. But that could never ever happen. I could never ever hurt his feelings like that.
What would I say? “You know how I was going to go on an all-expenses-paid whirlwind holiday to luxurious Hawaii with you? Well, as soon as I realized that Danny was your girlfriend, I changed my mind and decided I can’t stay one second longer. Can I have seventy-five dollars to change back my ticket, please?”
I don’t think so.
9:47 AM, PST
I told my father that I decided I want to go back to Philadelphia for New Year’s and that I needed to borrow seventy-five dollars and he said okay and then he gave it to me.
Isn’t that great? All I have to do is eat gefilte fish and it’s New Year’s Eve, Philadelphia style.
Comments:
Logged in at 10:26 AM, PST
Lynn: Rae, I Googled gefilte fish, but I’m still a bit confused. I just can’t figure out what ground fish loaves have to do with airline tickets.
Logged in at 10:28 AM, PST
Fippy: Rae, stop the crazy and tell us what you’re talking about.
1:07 PM, PST
Sorry about that last entry. I was rushed to call the girls and invite them over for dinner tomorrow night so I could see them before I leave.
What happened was that my dad asked me to go grocery shopping with him, so I did. But instead of going in the direction of the Pathmark like we always used to, we went in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” I asked him just as the car was slowing down in front of a parking spot. He pointed to a store across the street.
“To Off-Track Betting?” I asked.
“No, silly,” he said, moving his finger a hair over to the right.
“Kosher Kitchen?!” I asked, my voice cracking, my eyes brimming with tears.
He nodded. The tears spilled over. I made those embarrassing hiccupy noises you make when you can’t catch your breath.
“Aw, don’t cry, Raisin,” he said, brushing some tears away from my eyes. “Kosher food isn’t that bad. Tastes just like chicken . . .” Which made me laugh. Which made me cry even more.
“I take it that’s not why you’re crying?”
“Are we shopping for kosher food because of Danny?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “Tomorrow night is the fourth night of Hanukkah. She wants us to come over and light the menorah with her. Is that okay?”
“Well . . .” I started, as I was thinking about what to say. “It’s just that everything’s changing so quickly.” Then I told him everything. How I refused to see that Danny was his girlfriend even though it wa
s so obvious and how embarrassing it was to need Vivvy to explain it to me.
“I understand how all this could be upsetting. You’ve been through a lot of changes these last few years. But I’m not sure leaving is the answer. Why miss out on Hawaii? You were so excited about it.”
“I can’t explain it. I just want to be in Philadelphia for New Year’s.”
“Okay, Rae,” he said. “I understand.”
And he looked like he really did.
Unfortunately, that’s where the understanding stopped.
“So can I borrow seventy-five dollars to change my ticket back to Friday?” I asked.
“SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?! To get on the exact same flight we already paid for the first time around? Do you see how ridiculous that is? If only you had waited a bit before changing the tickets.”
I knit my brows to look like I was considering this.
“I can see how you might think it’s ridiculous,” I said. But the truth is that I don’t really get it. I’m saving him all the money he’d have spent on the Hawaii ticket. So why worry about seventy-five dollars? It’s only a loan anyway. That’s what’s wrong with adults these days.
In the end, he agreed to lend it to me if I promise to try and have a good time at dinner tomorrow night.
I promised. Pia, Claudia, and Vivvy are going to be there, so how hard could it be? Besides, trying is the easy part. It’s succeeding that always trips me up.
PS—It’s been three days since I’ve spoken to CJ. I’m not sure if I’m
A. Mad at him for not calling me
B. In trouble for not calling him
C. Both
D. Neither
E. Perhaps talking to a meteorite would help me figure it out.
Comments:
Logged in at 11:27 PM, EST
Fippy: Have you ever had sweetbreads? My cousin once offered some to me and I took a piece because it sounded like some exotic dessert. But it wasn’t sweet at all, and when I asked what it was, she told me “cow’s brains.” I was so repulsed I decided to be a vegetarian right then and there.
Logged in at 11:29 PM, EST
Lynn: I’m glad you’re coming to the party. I’m looking forward to introducing Thomas to all my friends.
11:45 PM, PST
Happy Hanukkah, My Israelite Kittens,
I hope this won’t come as too much of a shock to you, but I’ve decided to convert to Judaism.
My reasoning is twofold:1. Those Hanukkah celebrations are a blast.
2. It could take me off the hook with CJ. I could tell him that I don’t believe in interfaith dating.
Forgive me if I don’t stay and chat. I’m a bit schnookered, and I need to get to bed before I lose my balance and fall out the windo
Thursday, December 30
6:13 AM, PST
Dear Lynn and Fippy,
Ooh, my head . . .
Um . . . never mind.
8:16 AM, PST
I feel so much better. Like a person again . . .
Now where was I . . . ?
Oh, right—converting to Judaism . . .
Maybe ix-nay on that plan for right now. It could get pretty complicated. . . .
But that Hanukkah celebration dinner? I must say, we had such a good time. . . .
We all met at Danny and Vivvy’s house. Before we could light the Hanukkah menorah (those candelabras with nine candleholders) we had to end the Sabbath. Which is done by saying a blessing over wine.
So we each had a little glass of wine, and even though it wasn’t much, we all got a little tipsy over it. Maybe none of us had enough to eat that day. Or maybe we all just poured an extra glass when no one was looking.
Then we lit the menorah and Danny and Vivvy sang the blessings, which were very pretty.
And then we sat down to eat. Gefilte fish and chicken but also potato pancakes, which are traditional for Hanukkah.
We started to notice the wine’s effects when Vivvy began singing the blessings again, but really loud this time and for no apparent reason. Then Jackson sang along with her even though he doesn’t know Hebrew. He just repeated the words a fraction of a second after she said them. I must say, it sounded authentic to me. Then we all started doing it until my dad said, “How ’bout some real music?” and got The No Way Josés’ CD out of the car.
When he put it on, Vivvy said, “I was wondering where that CD went,” and my dad said back to her, “You lent it to me, missy!” and my heart sank for a second because I was jealous that they had their own little private joke. But only for a second because then we all started dancing to the music for a really long time. Even Danny! And believe me when I say, the lady’s got some moves.
After the CD was finished, Danny brought out homemade jelly doughnuts, which are also traditional. And delicious.
Afterward we went around the table telling embarrassing stories, and Danny told the story about how my dad called her to ask her on a date and when she picked up the phone, he said, “Hey, Daniel-ella. I mean Daniel. I mean Danny.”
I laughed so hard my dad got a little annoyed at me. “Okay, Raisin, we get it. It’s funny. I guess it’s hard for someone like you who’s never had anything embarrassing happen to understand.”
Which made the whole table laugh really hard. A little too hard, if you ask me. If you ask me, my dad was just angry because Danny’s story was more embarrassing about him than about her, which wasn’t the point of the game.
By then it was time to go, and I started wondering if I should have just gone to Hawaii after all, but it was way too late for that. I just had to deal with saying goodbye to everyone. First Jackson. Then Danny, who I hugged. And then Pia and Claudia. I started crying the minute the word good came out of my mouth and I didn’t stop until we all fell into a body pile on the floor from hugging so hard, at which point we all began to laugh hysterically.
Then it was time to say goodbye to Vivvy. We just looked at each other for a moment. “And Scarecrow, I’ll miss you most of all,” said Claudia in her Dorothy voice.
“I’ll miss you all most of all,” I corrected. And then Vivvy and I shared a giant hug. I could also swear she whispered, “Jeremy,” in my ear, really slowly, like Jere-my. At least that’s what it sounded like. But why would she do that?
I never asked her, and once my dad and I left the house, I never looked back. Even though I knew they were all standing on Vivvy’s front porch waving goodbye to us. I just couldn’t. I would have dissolved into a puddle of water, and my dad would have had to use a scooper to get me home.
But I’ll see them again. As soon as possible. Maybe you guys will get to meet them too.
To:[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: A Friendly Reminder
We now return to our previously scheduled blog.
Sincerely,
The Management
5:07 PM, EST
Hello again, Kitties, Hello (That includes you too, Miss Vivvy . . . I know you’re in there. . . .)
Miss me? Ha!
I’m about to exchange Christmas presents with my family since I didn’t get to do that yet. I wonder what they got me? A flat-screen TV for my room, complete with TiVo? And perhaps a new bedroom set to go with it?
Or maybe . . . just maybe . . . unlimited credit at Giselle’s and an on-call stylist.
Then again, what I really need right now, more than anything else, is someone to talk to CJ for me. That’s what Horace does when he’s unhappy with one of his employees. He doesn’t tell the person himself. He has Mahoney, the vice president of his company, do it for him. I’ve heard them planning it over the phone.
“Mahoney,” he’ll say. “Tell Munson it’s not working out,” and then just like that-poof-Munson will be gone. I need someone I can call on like that. My own personal vice president.
Darn. I wonder if it’s too late to start hinting arou
nd for one now?
10:49 PM, EST
You guys aren’t going to believe what happened. The plan was to have dinner with my family and then afterward, we’d exchange gifts. So at about seven o’ clock, we all gathered around the table.
Except for Lola.
I was dying for us to get through dinner so I could open my presents. They looked really promising. A giant gift box from Giselle’s, a medium gift bag from Gazelle’s, and a tiny paper bag from Taco Bell with a feather glued to the top and the word Gazelle’s written on it in black crayon (that one, not as much). So I went looking for Lola so we could get started on dinner.
I checked her bedroom, the TV room, the basement, and even the laundry room, where she likes to stand inside the laundry cart and play bus tour guide.
But she was nowhere to be found.
Everyone became frantic.
“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked my mother.
“Right before Horace left to pick you up from the airport,” she said.
“And when did the rest of you see her last?” I asked Horace and Samantha.
Neither of them had seen her since my mom left for the airport.
“Also when Dad left for the airport. I thought he was taking Lola with him,” said Samantha.
“I did too,” said Mom. Then she burst into tears and headed for her car.
Horace called the police on his cell. Sam went to get her bike and go riding around the neighborhood looking for signs of the little Butterball.
I tried to think of something useful to do, but it seemed like every job had already been taken.
Just then the house phone rang. I prayed it was Lola. I was worried sick about her.
“Raisin,” said the voice on the other end. It was a voice I recognized as much for its loudness as for freckliness.
“Hi, Jeremy. I can’t talk. Can I call you back?”
“Okay. But I’m not really calling for you. I’m calling for your mom.”
Will the Real Raisin Rodriguez Please Stand Up? Page 10