by Wendy Mass
We all go wide-eyed and quickly assure her that no one is bullying us. “We’re just trying to sell a few last boxes of cookies,” I explain. “For, um, a Sunshine Kid we know who ordered too many.”
“All right,” the woman says, relaxing against the doorpost. “That’s good.” She glances at David, who is nonchalantly crossing and recrossing his legs. “I’m Bettie with an i-e. Would you like to come in and tell me about the cookies?”
“Thank you,” Rory says, wheeling in the wagon. The rest of us follow. The house smells like warm bread.
“The bathroom is down the hall on the left,” she says, “if anyone would like to use it.”
David takes off without another word.
“So what kind of cookies do you have?” Bettie with an i-e asks.
Rory shows her the boxes while I glance around the house. It reminds me of my own, all on one floor and cozy. That’s one thing I’ll say about my mother: She always tries to make each new house as welcoming as possible. David returns from the bathroom and I’m about to ask Bettie if it’s okay for me to go, too, when the deliveryman shows up and she heads over to the door to sign for her package. I decide to just hurry and go while she’s busy.
The bathroom is all done in shades of pink and white. Makeup kits full of lipstick and eye shadows and blush and things I don’t even recognize fill baskets and bowls and threaten to spill off the shelves. Bettie likes makeup a LOT.
After I wash my hands, I look around for a hand towel or napkin but don’t see anything. There’s a white basket filled with cotton balls next to the sink. Am I supposed to dry my hands with cotton balls? I lift up the basket, thinking maybe there’s a napkin underneath. Nope. I rest it back down. Then I shriek. Twice.
“Tara?” Rory says, knocking on the door. “Are you okay?”
With a trembling hand, I open the door. Rory and the boys and makeup-loving Bettie are standing in the hall, concern creasing their faces.
I hold up the basket by one of its heart-shaped handles. “How much do you want for this?”
Chapter Thirteen
The kitchen table has been transformed into one of the cosmetic counters at the mall that Mom always hurries past. Bettie leans over and dabs my nose with a powder puff. I try not to sneeze as some powder goes up my nose. I needed a basket; she needed someone to test her new line of makeup on before offering it for sale. A win-win, as my dad would say!
The others are seated across the table, munching on the fresh breadsticks that Bettie laid out for us. Rory and Leo have been sending a flurry of texts back and forth while David looks somewhat stupefied. I’m pretty sure Leo has been texting Amanda, too, because every once in a while his phone beeps even when Rory hasn’t sent anything.
“One more dab of the forehead,” says Bettie, “and we’re done!” She holds a round mirror up to my face. “What do you think?”
I think I barely recognize myself under the purple eye shadow, pink lipstick, and red cheeks. “Wow, it’s … colorful!”
She lays the mirror down on the kitchen table. “I should probably tone it down a bit, now that you mention it. My mother, she was the real artist. She always knew just how to bring out someone’s best features, or hide any imperfections.” Her eyes get a little glassy and she blinks a few times.
Rory jumps up from her chair. “It looks great,” she assures her. “But we’ve really got to go.”
I grab the white basket and follow Rory to the door. Leo trips right over the open box on the floor that was once filled with the makeup that’s now on my face. We hear a riiiip, followed by “Uh-oh, that’s not good!”
Rory tosses Leo his regular shorts. He ducks into the kitchen and comes out a few seconds later holding the orange ones, which are pretty much in shreds. “Ah, I can breathe again,” he says.
No doubt I’ll be paying Angelina for those.
“Thank you again,” I tell Bettie, placing the basket in the red wagon. I still can’t believe my luck at finding it.
Bettie beams and turns my chin from side to side, admiring her work. “Thank you for letting me experiment on your face.”
“Any time,” I reply, because really, what does one say to that?
“Enjoy the cookies,” David says, ushering me out the door.
“Bye!” Bettie calls out after us, already opening up her box of Minty Mints.
As soon as the door is closed, Rory’s smile fades. She turns to David and asks, “Would it be okay if Leo and I talk to Tara alone?”
David sniffs under his arms. “I don’t smell, do I?”
“It’ll only take a minute,” Rory promises. “It’s kind of a girl thing.”
“Leo’s not a girl,” David points out.
“He’s standing in for Amanda,” Rory replies. “You know they’re interchangeable.”
“True,” David agrees. “Come get me at Connor’s when you’re done.”
“Thanks,” Rory says, pulling me down the driveway. I look back over my shoulder at David standing beside the red wagon in his stretched-out shirt and sun-covered shorts. He tips his yellow felt hat at me and then heads off across the lawn. I can guess what Rory and Leo want to talk to me about, but I’m not sure why they can’t do it in front of David.
“We’ve only known you a few days,” Leo begins, bringing my attention back to them, “but do you always go into new places and ask people if you can have their stuff?”
How can I lie to them after everything they’ve done for me today? I shake my head.
They exchange a glance, and Leo continues. “Amanda and Rory and I have learned that if someone’s doing something they don’t usually do, or acting really weird, then there’s usually something behind it.”
“Or someone,” Rory adds. “Short, with white hair? Duck on her cheek?”
I let what they’re saying sink in. They know Angelina! “Do you guys work for her, too?”
Rory shakes her head, but Leo says, “Sort of. Not exactly. It’s hard to explain.”
I glance at Rory, who doesn’t look particularly surprised. I turn back to Leo. “Does the thing with you and Amanda and the blackboards have to do with Angelina in some way?”
He tugs at the collar of his Sunshine Kid shirt as though it’s suddenly gotten even tighter. “I really can’t say,” he mumbles. Which I take to mean yes. Then he motions us closer with his hand and whispers, “We’re doing this to help Tara.”
I gape at him, stunned. “You are? To help me?”
Rory’s jaw has fallen open, too.
My brain tries to process this, but I’m coming up empty. Emily told me Leo and Amanda had started talking to each other with the blackboards last summer. They didn’t even know me then! He must be confusing me with someone else. “To help me with what?” I ask.
Leo sighs. “We have no idea. We’re not even totally sure it’s about you. I’ve already said too much. Can we please talk about the more pressing problem of what’s happening now?”
He looks so desperate that I feel bad pushing him further. So I turn to Rory. “Then how are you involved with Angelina?”
“I’m not,” she insists. “Not anymore. But, Tara, are you done getting stuff from people? The cane, and now this basket?”
I shake my head.
“What else do you need?”
“Well, I sort of have this whole list.”
“How many more things are on it?” Leo asks.
I think for a second. “Eleven.”
“Eleven!” Rory exclaims. “When do you need to find them by?”
“I have a whole month. Not until July thirteenth.”
“Isn’t that your birthday?” Leo asks.
I nod.
He and Rory exchange another knowing look. “Angelina has a thing with birthdays,” Rory explains.
“Look,” I tell them. “This thing with Angelina, it’s not such a big deal. It’s just a job. She gave me a list of things to find for her store, and she’s paying me for it and everything.”
�
��That’s all?” Rory asks.
I nod. I don’t even feel like I’m lying. Because honestly, except for the element of blackmail involved, it really is just a job. “Why didn’t you want David to hear our conversation?” I ask. “He’s eventually going to ask about this stuff, too, right?”
“It’s because we suspected Angelina is involved somehow,” Leo says. “So we didn’t want to bring it up in front of him.”
“Why?”
“It’s just not a good idea,” Leo says.
I take a deep breath. “I know I haven’t had a lot of experience being a part of a group, but I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. I don’t want David to get left out because of me.” I might not know what it’s like to be a good friend, but I know what it’s like to be a bad one.
“Tara,” Rory says gently, reaching for my hand.
This time I flinch. Her hand drops.
I know what to do. I need to go back on the sidelines. “I’m going to do the rest of this alone, okay? It’s nothing personal, you guys have been really nice to me. Can you tell David I’ll see him later?” I start walking away, willing the tears not to fall. Hopefully my bike is where I left it outside the diner.
“Tara!” Leo says. “Please listen. You can’t tell him about Angelina, you just can’t.”
I keep walking.
I make it to the curb before Leo and Rory appear on either side of me. Rory stops me and says, “Remember when we were at Angelina’s store yesterday and David was joking around, saying the store was empty?”
I nod. How could I forget?
“The thing is … he wasn’t joking.”
“What do you mean?”
Rory takes a deep breath and says, “The store really is empty.”
Okay, they’re officially crazy. “No, it’s not! I’ve been in there twice. And you’ve seen all the stuff through the window.”
“It’s not empty for you,” Rory explains. “Or Leo or Amanda or me, or whoever else Angelina wants to let in. But it’s empty for him. Do you understand?”
“It’s empty for David?” I repeat.
“Yes,” Leo says. “It is.”
My head starts to swim. How can a store look different to different people? And why David, of all people? If I hadn’t seen his strange reaction in the alley with my own eyes, I’d never believe what they’re telling me. “I need to sit down.”
They both reach for me as I half fall, half sit on the curb. Rory sits down next to me. I don’t take my eyes off the road.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asks.
I wish I had an answer to that. “I have no idea what to think right now.”
“We didn’t want to freak you out,” Rory says. “It’s just that David’s a really good guy. He’d want to keep helping you find the stuff you need. But he wouldn’t understand why you’re getting things for a store that doesn’t exist. He’d either think you were crazy or that he was, and with him already being so nervous about his bar mitzvah …”
“The store doesn’t exist. Doesn’t exist,” I repeat. Nope, doesn’t make any more sense the more times I say it.
“It doesn’t exist to him,” she clarifies.
I drop my head into my hands. “Am I … B”
“Are you what?”
“Crazy? Am I the one who’s crazy?”
“No,” she says. “I promise you’re not crazy. Whatever’s going on, you just have to trust it will make sense to you one day.”
The little bit of food in my stomach is threatening to end up on the street. “Just so I’m totally clear,” I whisper, “we live in a world where a store can be empty to one person, and full to others?”
“I don’t know if it’s like that anywhere else, but in Willow Falls, yes.”
We sit there in silence for a few minutes. “It’s getting pretty late,” Rory says, standing up. “You wait here; we’ll go get David.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
“As close to the truth as we can,” she replies.
I stare up at the dusky sky, now streaked with orange and pink. I don’t believe in Friday the thirteenth being bad luck. I don’t believe if you make a weird face it will stay that way. I don’t even believe that if you make a wish on your birthday candle it will come true. And I’m supposed to believe these things they’re telling me?
From the minute I saw Amanda and Leo with those blackboards, I should have known theirs wasn’t the only secret in Willow Falls. I just never thought I’d be a part of one myself.
Chapter Fourteen
Even though I’d locked the bike up outside the diner, I’m still relieved to see it there safe and sound. It might not be anything like my bike at home, but right now it’s my only way to escape. I wrap up the chain and put it in Emily’s squashed basket. The broken basket is my excuse to get inside the shop again.
The alley is even more deserted than it was this morning, if that’s possible. The setting sun doesn’t seem to touch this street. I shiver, glad I’m no longer wearing the Sunshine Kid outfit. Rory took them home to wash. She said she’d have an easier time explaining their appearance to her mother than I would to my aunt. Supposedly, her mom is used to a lot of strangeness.
No light shines from Angelina’s store, either, but as I get closer I can hear dance music. Not normal dance music, but like big-band-orchestra-grandparents kind of dance music. I peek through the cleaned off spot in the window and there she is, dancing. Alone. In the middle of the shop. She’s moving a lot more gracefully than one would think the oldest person in town should be able to move. I watch for a minute until she spots me. She stops moving, and the music stops, too. I didn’t see her turn any radio off, but that’s not even one of the top three strangest things that’s happened to me today, so I let it go.
We meet at the door. Hands on her hips, she says, “You know you’re only supposed to be here because you have all my stuff. And yet your hands remain maddeningly empty.”
“I know but, um …” I quickly unsnap the basket from the bike and hold it up. “I need a new one of these. Mine broke carrying home the tape recorder.”
She sighs. “I’m going to need the recorder back eventually, you know. That one is my favorite.”
“Okay,” I promise, even though there’s a good chance Uncle Roger has taken it apart by now. “So do you have another basket that will fit the bike?”
She grumbles, but steps aside so I can come in. Before I can ask where to find them, she reaches over and plucks a pink plastic basket from the window display. It has a white plastic flower in the front and is clearly meant for a little girl. Which means, unfortunately, that it’s perfect for my bike.
She holds out her hand. “That’ll be five dollars.”
This time I don’t argue. I simply reach into my sock and pull a twenty off the roll. It’s still sweaty, and she holds it by the corner when she goes to get change. I take this chance to look around the place, like really look. The hardwood floors, the ceiling with long wooden beams reaching across it, all the stuff. It’s all so … real. So solid. I lean against the wall, trying to look casual. Then I give it a little push. Yup, solid. I bet most people wouldn’t notice the one thing I saw the very first time I came in here. Or rather, what I didn’t see — dust. It’s the only thing that makes the place unusual for a secondhand store. But maybe Angelina’s just a really good duster.
She returns with my change and a wet paper towel.
“What’s this for?” I ask, holding out the towel.
“Your face.”
Angelina can be very direct when she wants to be. I wipe the makeup off as best I can. Angelina takes the old basket and the used paper towel, although not happily. Ushering me out the door, she asks, “And when will I see you here again?”
“When I have all the stuff on the list?”
“Exactly,” she says, and shuts the door firmly behind me. I don’t want to leave yet. I want to ask her how a soul actually solidifies and where it’s supposed
to be while I’m figuring all this out. Flying in the air above me? Off reading a good book somewhere? I want to ask why David sees an empty store. But I know I’m not getting any answers today. I snap on the basket and walk the bike back up the alley to Main Street.
Dusk has definitely settled on Willow Falls, and I have no reflective padding on me. For a split second, I actually worry that Mom will see me and I’ll get in trouble. I start peddling as fast as the little bike will take me until I accept the fact that no one is going to see me. No one I know, at least. Plus, Mom’s on the other side of the world. She doesn’t even know a store can be empty for one person, and full for another. She’d never believe it anyway. Why should she? I certainly wouldn’t have. Dad’s the one in our family whose head is always dreaming up imaginary worlds. Mom and I prefer our worlds solid, where the rules don’t change.
It feels strange to ride all the way back to Aunt Bethany’s house and then turn into David’s house, instead. Rory’s mom pulls up just as I’m leaning the bike up against the garage door. Amanda climbs out first, the blackboard around her neck. Leo told me she lives all the way on the other side of town, which is probably why I beat them here.
“Rumor has it you had a pretty crazy day,” she says.
“Yup, pretty crazy.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry to have missed dressing up in that Sunshine Kid skirt,” she says. “I still have my old one somewhere.”
Obviously Leo texted her about the connection between the things I’m looking for and Angelina, but I don’t want to ask her about it with David only a few steps away. So as the last car door slams, I quickly say, “Well, if you’re ever looking for a secondhand shop to sell it to, I know just the place.”
“I’ll remember that,” she replies.
David’s mom opens the front door and says, “Come on in, everyone, I’ve got grilled cheese grilling and iced tea icing.”
I breathe a sigh of relief to see that Rory didn’t lose either the cane or the basket. Now that I’m not riding my bike, I really want them back. But I also don’t want to insult her, or to reveal that getting all the items on the list might be a little more important to me than I’d let on. So I just smile as she walks into the house with them.