“Hello?”
“Juliet?”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi. How are you?”
I wanted to say, “This is so strange, talking to you on the phone instead of seeing you every day.” I wanted to say, “Mom isn’t home much and neither is Miranda, but I’m doing the best I can.” I wanted to say, “I miss you.” But I didn’t say any of that. I took the cordless phone back to the table where I’d been working.
“Fine, I guess. Did you get my email?”
“Yes, I did, honey. Thank you. And I wanted to tell you I’m sorry you’re feeling so sad about moving away. It will get better. These things just take time.”
“I hope so.”
“Once you start school and make friends, it won’t be so bad,” he said.
“I’ve already made one friend,” I told him.
“You have? Juju Bean, that’s such great news!”
“Yeah, she’s really nice. And so is her family.”
“Wonderful. Listen, I need to get back to work, but could you do me a quick favor? Could you give me your mom’s work number?”
I paused, because it seemed like a weird question. “Can’t you just call her cell?”
“I’ve tried. She won’t answer my calls or texts. And I really need to speak to her.”
I traced one of the flowers I’d drawn with my finger as I thought about what he was asking. If he didn’t know Mom’s work number, that meant he didn’t even know where she worked. If he knew the place, he could have easily looked it up on the Internet.
“Dad, if you don’t know where she works, maybe I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“Honey, she’s still my wife. And I need to speak to her.”
It felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. Like Mom held my left hand and Dad held my right and the harder I tried to take my hands away, the harder they pulled. I didn’t know what to do. I was pretty sure if Mom wanted him to have that number, he’d have it. But I could also see Dad’s point. They were still married. And if he had something important to tell her, shouldn’t he be able to do that?
“Are you all right, Dad? Like, is there an emergency?”
He sighed. “I’m fine. Please don’t worry. But if you could just give me the number, it would help a lot. Okay?”
I went to the kitchen and opened the drawer where Mom had a list of phone numbers. Her work phone was the first one on the page. “Okay, you ready?”
“Ready.”
I read the number to him, and then he thanked me and hung up. I decided I’d better call and warn her. She picked up on the first ring.
“Mom, it’s Juliet.”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. How’s it going?” I heard papers shuffling in the background.
“Fine. But something just happened that I need to tell you about. Please don’t get angry with me.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Dad called and wanted your work number. So I gave it to him. He’ll probably be calling you soon.” She didn’t say anything for a long time. “Mom?”
“Yes. I’m here. Thank you for letting me know, Juliet. I need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Are you mad?”
“Not at you, no.”
So that meant she was angry with him.
“How come you won’t talk to him?”
“I really can’t discuss this right now,” she said in a rush. “Hopefully, you understand. See you later.”
“Okay. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
I said bye and we hung up.
And as I wrote the words Get Well Soon on the card for Mr. Button, I wished there was a card I could send to my parents to wish their marriage would get better soon.
* Videos of baby goats
* Watching the clouds go by and spotting an arrow or a heart or an elephant
* Casper just being his adorable kitty self
* A good book, especially one that makes me laugh AND cry because that is the very best kind of book
* A delicious snack like crackers and cheese or cookies and milk or anything without a boring vegetable, basically. Unless a pickle is a vegetable, then never mind.
* Painting a picture
* Glitter!!!!
* A walk in the sunshine with a friend
After I mailed the card for Mr. Button, I read my book about Vincent. By the time he was a teenager, he knew four languages and loved poetry. Who knew a guy born over a hundred years ago could make me feel like a slacker? Lunch consisted of another pickle sandwich with some turkey thrown in. Around three, I remembered I needed to email Some Kid.
When I logged in, I noticed Inca still hadn’t emailed me back. She was probably off doing fun things for spring break. Last spring break, she’d invited me to go with her and her family to the magical land of Dole Whips, also known as Disneyland. We’d had so much fun, even if our tastes in rides were not exactly the same. Actually, we’re as different as pickles and onions. I loved the rides like It’s a Small World and Pirates of the Caribbean while her favorites were Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. For her, the scarier the better. As for me? Feeling like I may vomit any second is not what I’m going for in a ride.
I opened the email from Some Kid and sat there for a few minutes, thinking about what to say. Finally, I started typing.
Hi. I’m glad you found my message. I love the idea of the Starry Beach Club. That’s cool you like Van Gogh, too.
Is it okay if I have a friend who is helping me to make someone’s wish come true? She’s a good person, I promise. Granting a wish is a lot harder than I thought it would be. Unless you’re a fairy godmother, probably.
I could pick something easy, like making my sister’s wish come true of having someone take out the garbage for her when it’s her turn. But I figure you want something big. Something special. So that’s what we’re trying to do.
Are you sure you don’t want to tell us more about who you are? Like, maybe you could tell us what school you go to? That wouldn’t give too much away.
Why do you want to keep it a secret anyway?
Sincerely yours,
J.J.
I read over the email approximately seventeen times, changing a little something here and there each time, until I finally decided it was good enough, and hit SEND.
Surprisingly, an email popped up from Inca, so I read that. She said she was at her aunt’s house in San Francisco for a few days but was checking email on her phone. Lucky her.
“If you had a phone, we could FaceTime,” she told me.
“Thanks a lot for rubbing it in,” I mumbled.
They were about to go to a famous chocolate shop and have humongous ice cream sundaes. I started to tell her I had a new friend in San Diego who owned an ice cream shop so I could have ice cream whenever I wanted, when I got another notification of a new email. It was from Some Kid.
Hi, J.J.,
Yes, it’s okay if your friend helps you and joins the club, too.
Why do I want to keep it a secret? I think it makes it more fun. More mysterious. Or maybe … I’m afraid you won’t like me if you find out who I am.
Sincerely yours,
Some Kid at the Beach
Oh. My. Gosh. We might not like who she is? Or what if it wasn’t a she at all? What if it really was Henry or one of his friends?
This was big news. Really big. I had to tell Emma. But I hadn’t written her number down anywhere but Mom’s phone. And I couldn’t call Mom to get it. That’d be twice in one day and the first time hadn’t gone very well. No, I’d either have to go back to Emma’s house or wait until Mom got home.
I heard the door click open and turned to see Miranda bounding into the house.
“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”
I decided I wanted her to know what had happened earlier with Dad. Sometimes you need someone else in your corner, you know?
/>
“Not very well,” I said. I logged out of email and put the computer back to sleep before I turned and looked at her.
“How come?” she asked, her hair wet and stringy and her face red.
I stood up. “Dad called earlier. Wanted Mom’s number at work. I didn’t know what to do. I kind of figured if he didn’t have it, that meant she didn’t want him to have it.”
“So, did you give it to him?”
“Yes. He kind of made me feel like it was his right to have it. If that makes sense? So then I called her and told her what happened, and she wasn’t very happy. With him, I mean.”
Miranda sighed and walked toward the kitchen. “It sucks, Pooh. This whole divorce thing? I hate it. I just want to bury my head in the sand so I don’t have to hear any of it.”
“Oh. So that’s why you’re spending so much time at the beach,” I joked.
She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Vitamin Water. “Basically, yeah.” She twisted off the cap and took a drink. “They made this mess and we shouldn’t be pulled into it. My new friend, Becca? She said, ‘It’s not your job to make it easy on them. It’s their job to make it easy on you. They’re the parents, after all.’ ”
“She sounds … smart,” I said.
“Right?” She took another swig and set the bottle on the counter. “So when you feel pulled in two directions, remember that. Go with your gut and don’t feel bad about it. Whatever happens, they’re the grown-ups. They’ll figure it out. Okay, I gotta jet. Time to shower and get ready.”
“Get ready? For what?”
“A bunch of us are going to dinner and a movie.”
So I’d be here alone. Again. Wonderful.
She started to walk away and then turned around. “You’ll be okay until Mom gets home, right?”
I thought about the new email. About how I didn’t have Emma’s number memorized yet. About how the only way to tell her the big news was to go back to her house.
“My friend Emma invited me over for spaghetti,” I told her. It wasn’t really a lie. Was it? She had said I could come back for a spaghetti dinner … sometime.
“Okay, cool,” she said. “Let’s do something tomorrow. You and me. After I’m done with training.”
“Sure,” I said. “Now hurry up so I can shower after you.”
* putting your hand into a box of spiders.
* stepping in dog doo-doo and tracking it all over the house.
* sleeping on a bed of sharp rocks.
* eating a big pile of brussels sprouts.
* hugging a porcupine.
* hopping on one foot while wearing high heels for two hours straight.
* going to the dentist for thirteen cavities.
I stood on the Rentons’ porch, nervously wringing my hands. I didn’t want to be that pesky friend who doesn’t know how to stay away. But I had to tell her what Some Kid said. I just had to. So I found the courage to knock.
A moment later, Thomas opened the door wide and said, “Hey, Juliet. Come on in. Emma’s in the kitchen.”
“I … I … just need to tell her something really quick.”
I’d hoped he might just call her out to see me on the porch, but that’s not what happened. He smiled and said, “Yeah. Whatever.”
Their house smelled like something really delicious was simmering on the stove. My stomach growled, and I realized I should have waited until after dinner to do this. I kicked myself. How rude. But I was here now, so there was no going back.
I walked through the front room and then the dining room, where Lance and Molly were setting the table. They both said hi to me and I said, “Hello.” When Emma heard my name, she looked up and said, “Hey! You’re just in time.”
“Time for what?” I asked.
“Spaghetti. You can stay, right?”
Her mom was getting a pitcher of water ready for the table. “It’s no problem to set another place. Always happy to have you.”
“Um … okay. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Joanne said before she called out, “Lance, can you come get another place setting? Juliet’s going to join us.”
So I really was going to have spaghetti at Emma’s house tonight. And just like that, the loneliness I’d been feeling most of the day seemed to magically vanish.
I moved over and stood next to Emma at the island so I wouldn’t be in the way. Emma scooped up some chopped tomatoes from the cutting board and threw them into the salad bowl. “Is everything all right?”
I leaned in and whispered, “I heard from Some Kid again. I’ll tell you later.”
She looked at me, her eyes big and wide. She mouthed, Ooooh, exciting!
Around me was a bustle of activity as people emptied pots from the stove and removed trays of hot buttery garlic bread from the oven.
“Come on,” Emma said, carrying her salad. “We can take a seat.”
I took my place at the table next to Emma as all of the delicious food appeared in front of us. Joanne went around and poured water into our glasses.
“Lots of help tonight,” Rick said as he appeared and sat at the head of the table. “Thanks, guys. I’ll take care of the dishes, how’s that?”
“Good,” Lance said. “I need to get ready for my date.”
“Don’t stay out too late,” Joanne said, taking the basket of bread and passing it around. “You’re opening the shop tomorrow. Emma will be there, too, helping to unpack some supplies that came in today.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ll be home by midnight, okay?”
That sounded pretty late to me, but what did I know? My evenings were mostly spent between the pages of a book or watching TV.
As they discussed the schedules of the next few days and things that had come up at the shop recently, we passed around dishes of food. Once I had a full plate, I took a bite of the spaghetti and I thought I might pass out from the deliciousness of it. Best spaghetti of my life, no lie.
As they talked, I looked over at Emma as she wiped her mouth with her napkin. She smiled at me. “Good?”
I nodded enthusiastically. I mean, there was more food to eat. I didn’t want to waste time talking.
* * *
After dinner we went up to Emma’s room and sat on the soft, yellow rug in the middle of her room.
“I’m so full,” I said.
“Yeah. Mom’s spaghetti will do that to you.” She passed me the tin of mints after taking one herself. “Okay, tell me what happened. I can hardly stand it.”
I told her all about the email I’d sent to Some Kid and the response I’d received.
“The last line of the email said: ‘Or maybe I’m afraid you won’t like me if you find out who I am.’ ”
“What?” she asked, her green eyes big and round. “It really said that?”
“Yes. Doesn’t that make you kind of worried? Like, what if it really is Henry or one of his friends?”
She groaned. “No. It can’t be. Can it?”
“I don’t know, but I wish there was a way to find out. What if this is all some ridiculous joke they’re playing?”
“But why?” she asked. “Why would they do that? What do they get out of it?”
“That’s what we have to figure out. Do you know where Henry lives? Maybe we should accidentally walk by.”
She smiled. “Oooh, good idea. I do know. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Sounds like a plan.” I glanced at the clock by her bed and when I saw the time, I jumped up. “Uh-oh. I need to get home. I wrote a note to my mom and told her I would be home by seven.”
She got to her feet. “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”
It was almost dark outside. We probably could have caught another sunset if we’d hurried to the beach, but I knew it was more important I get home so I didn’t worry my mom.
Just as I started to trot down the steps, a young Asian woman came running over to us. “Girls, I’m sorry to bother you, but
have you seen two cats wandering around here? One is gray, the other is orange and white.”
“We just stepped outside,” Emma said. “So we haven’t really noticed anything.”
The woman looked around Emma’s yard, still talking. “I’m staying next door for the week while my sister and her family are out of town. And I guess I left the door open, because the cats aren’t in the house anywhere. Oh, I feel terrible. I have to find them.”
“Juliet has to go home,” Emma said, “but I can help you look.”
“Thank you so much,” the woman said. “I’m Laura, by the way.”
“So you’re Jenny’s sister?” Emma asked.
“Yes. That’s right.”
“I’ve only talked to her a few times,” Emma said. “What are the cats’ names, so I can call for them?”
“Pepper and Paprika,” she replied.
Emma waved to me, probably figuring I needed to get going. “I’m helping out at the shop in the morning, if you want to stop by and see me. I’ll be there at ten.”
I waved back. “Okay. See you later.”
I jogged all the way home. When I walked in the door, it was quiet. And dark. So different from the lively house I’d just left. When I flipped a light on, I found my mom sitting on the sofa, her head back. She looked tired … or something.
“Hi,” I said. “Everything all right?”
She sighed. “Mmm. Not really.”
I sat next to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Just one of those days when being an adult isn’t much fun.”
“I’m sorry.”
She reached over and patted my leg. “Not your fault, Juju Bean.”
I waited a moment before I asked, “Do you think you made a mistake? Moving here?”
“No. Not at all. It was the right thing to do.”
“You don’t miss him? Or our home? Even just a little bit?”
See You on a Starry Night Page 7