Getting Back to Normal Page 7

  Robby adds cold cereal to Theodore’s milk. I carry the saucer out to the shed. Theodore hasn’t moved from his burlap bag bed, which means he must be in pretty bad shape.

  “He doesn’t look too good,” Robby whispers.

  I put the saucer of milk and cereal beside Theodore. He hesitates, wobbles to his feet, and starts to lap it up.

  “He’s eating,” I say. “That’s a good sign.”

  “Do you think he’ll be all right?” Robby asks. His voice is fretful. He’s on the verge of crying. “I don’t want him to die.”

  “I’ll call Tammy,” I say. “She knows all about cats, since she has three of them.”

  “Call her, Vannie. Call her right now.”

  “I will.”

  I go into the kitchen and dial Tammy’s number. It’s comforting to hear her bubbly voice. She’s all excited when I tell her how Robby went and got Theodore.

  “A rescue! An actual rescue! Your little brother’s amazing.”

  “No, Tammy. My little brother’s weird and so is my father. I only wish things would be normal again.”

  “Come on, Vannie. You can’t blame your dad for getting upset and angry.”

  “Daddy’s furious with Robby. He told him he can’t play with Kevin for an entire month. It’s like I’m being punished. He’ll have nothing to do but tail after me every minute of the day.”

  “He’ll be busy with his precious Theodore,” Tammy reminds me. Which reminds me why I called.

  “Tam, Theodore got into a fight and he’s all beat up. He just lies there, except when he eats.”

  “If he’s eating he’ll live,” Tammy says gaily. “Cats have this wonderful talent of healing. Nine lives, remember?”

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if Theodore died on us. I didn’t know if I should call a vet. Not that Daddy would ever pay for a vet to take care of Theodore.”

  “It’s real cool of your father to let Robby keep Theodore after Robby did exactly what he told him not to do.”

  I sigh, exasperated. “Cool? Tammy, my father’s as far from cool as the sun. He just ran out to check on his precious craft show. I swear, all he cares about is Merrymount Gardens.”

  “How was working in the craft show?” Tammy asks.

  So much has happened in the past hour and a half, I have to think a minute. “It was lots of fun,” I admit.

  She giggles. “Any sign of you-know-who?”

  “No, and I’m glad. I have my hands full without listening to his nonsense about marrying off Mayda.”

  “Maybe he expects you to find her someone on the Internet. There are all those dating websites.”

  “Tammy, this isn’t a joke.”

  All laughter’s gone from her voice when she says, “Or maybe he already has someone in mind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wants Mayda to get married, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say cautiously.

  “So she can be happy and have a family, right?”

  A boulder settles on my chest, and all I can manage is a grunt.

  “Well, take one guess who he’s chosen to be the happy groom.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” I sputter. “You can’t think he means my father!”

  “You’re the one with the high IQ, Vannie. Fit the pieces together. Archie approaches you. He goes on how wonderful Mayda is, and how she should be married. And in the next breath he mentions how much your father appreciates her.”

  “Then gets all huffy when I say he’s not interested. Well, he’s not!”

  Robby’s jiggling my arm. “Wait a second,” I tell Tammy and cover the mouthpiece of the phone.

  “What did Tammy say we should do to make Theodore better?” he wants to know.

  “Feed him and let him rest, and he’ll get better.”

  “Really?” His eyes open wide, disbelieving.

  “Really.”

  Satisfied, Robby goes back to watching TV in the living room. I pick up the telephone. “I’m back.”

  “What are you planning to do about your father and Mayda, Vannie?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I don’t know where you get these crazy ideas, but even if you’re right I won’t be part of it.”

  “Why not?” Tammy asks. “It could be the best thing for both of them.”

  “I gotta go. See you in school.”

  “Great, can’t wait,” she says. For once, I let her say it alone.

  *

  I go into the living room and sit down next to Robby. He’s watching a nature program about a mother cheetah and her cubs. She’s teaching them how to hunt.

  “Theodore doesn’t have a mother to take care of him,” he says.

  Neither do you, I think. I’m glad it’s too dark for Robby to see the tears filling my eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to upset Daddy,” he goes on, “but I had to get Theodore. Mrs. Peterson hates him. She would have done something bad to him.”

  When I don’t answer, Robby takes my hand. “Mommy would want me to take care of him. Don’t you think, Vannie?”

  “I guess so.” I squeeze his fingers. It’s the first time Robby’s talking about our mother.

  “She used to ask me how he was, every time we visited.”

  “Did she?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The tears stream down my cheeks. I swipe them away with the back of my free hand.

  “Do you think Mommy can look down and see what we’re doing?” he whispers.

  “I think so.”

  Robby nods his head. “That’s what I think, too.”

  We sit quietly for a minute or two. My tears stop as quickly as they began. Robby fidgets beside me. “Can we go and check on Theodore?”

  I tousle his hair. It needs a trimming badly, something else Daddy has to see to. “Sure, let’s go.”

  As we put on our jackets, Robby says, “I’m glad I have you for my sister.”

  “And I’m glad I have you.” I hug him so hard, he yelps in pain.

  “You don’t have to get all mushy, Vannie,” he says, and runs ahead of me to the shed.

  *

  The next day, Sunday, is the second day of the craft show. Judging from the lineup of cars waiting for the gate to open, the crowd will be bigger than it was on Saturday. Even so, Daddy says I can’t hand out flyers till the afternoon. He wants me to babysit Robby until Carolyn picks him up to take him to his soccer game.

  “Yippee!” Robby shouts when Daddy walks off. “Let’s go see Theodore.”

  “I’m not spending all morning in a shed with that cat,” I tell my brother, “and neither are you.”

  We bring Theodore his breakfast. He must be getting better, because he’s nowhere in sight when we open the door. Then I see him lurking in a corner. Theodore hisses when I come close. But he lets Robby pet him, and laps up the milk and cereal. When he’s done, he runs to the door and meows.

  I scoop him into my arms and set him down on his bed. “You have to stay here today,” I tell him. “When the show is over, I’ll let you out.”

  “Do you think he’ll run away?” Robby asks, worried.

  I close the door carefully behind Theodore. “Where would he run to? MG is a pretty big place.”

  Robby and I walk around the craft fair. Most of the craft people recognize me, and I introduce them to Robby. Robby, who’s usually shy with strangers, turns talkative. He tells anyone who will listen about how he rescued Theodore. At one booth, a man lets Robby try on different hats. We laugh as the bigger hats slide down and cover his eyes.

  “This is fun,” Robby says as we move on to check out the next booth. “I like craft fairs.”

  “Me, too,” I agree. “I like having a craft fair in our own back yard.”

  After lunch, we go back to the cottage and Robby changes into his soccer clothes. “I think you should apologize to Carolyn,” I tell him.

  Robby doesn’t say anything. But when Carolyn honks t
he horn, he goes out to the car.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise and went off,” he tells Carolyn. “I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

  Carolyn comes out of the car and hugs him. “I know you won’t,” she says.

  It’s harder for Robby to apologize to Kevin, who’s scowling in the front seat and staring out his window so he doesn’t have to look at Robby. But Robby goes right to him. I hear him say he’s sorry while I’m thanking Carolyn for coming for Robby, especially after what he did yesterday.

  “Oh, Vannie, it’s the least I can do,” she says.

  And I’m so grateful for her kindness and her easy forgiveness, I hug her tight then run inside the cottage so she can’t see my tears.

  Why am I crying all the time? At least I don’t stay glum and gloomy. Five minutes later I’m feeling fine. Ready to pick up the flyers and get to work.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Monday morning my bus pulls into school late, which means Tammy and I have only a minute to talk before we go to our separate classes. I tell her about the MG Halloween party coming up.

  “Halloween falls on the last Saturday of the month. There’ll be food and games and a contest for the best costume. Aunt Mayda says we can help set it up, Tammy, and you’ll stay over!”

  “Great, can’t wait! I’ll get a new costume.”

  “Me too,” I say. “I’m leaning toward going as a witch, warts and all. It’s how I feel these days—weird.”

  “Want to come over after school?” she asks.

  “Sure. I could use a break from MG.”

  “Oh, but don’t you have to watch Robby?”

  “Nope. He’s going to Kevin’s.”

  “I thought your father grounded him for a month.”

  I grin. “God bless Carolyn. She told Daddy that Robby’s obsession with Theodore is part of his grieving process. She pointed out that I wasn’t the one being punished and it wasn’t fair to expect me to watch him every afternoon.”

  When I call Daddy at lunchtime, he says I can go to Tammy’s but we have to go food shopping on the way home.

  “Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll buy everything I need for Wednesday night.”

  “What’s happening Wednesday?” Daddy asks.

  “Don’t you remember? Aunt Mayda’s coming for dinner. Then we’re going to the mall, just the two of us.”

  I listen intently for any sign of interest, but all he says is, “Oh, right. I’ll pick you up at five.”

  “See you later, Daddy. Bye.”

  I smile as I hang up the receiver. My father has no more interest in Aunt Mayda than he does in going to China.

  *

  Daddy comes for me at five-thirty. I get in the front passenger seat and slam the door. Hard.

  “A hello would be nice,” he says, as we drive off.

  “Hello.”

  “Did you have a fight with Tammy?” Robby asks from the back seat.

  I shrug, but inside I’m wondering if my little brother can suddenly read minds. Tammy and I did have a fight—our first since Mom went into hospice—all because of her stupid obsession with Archie.

  “Because Kevin and I were mad at each other, but now we’re the bestest of friends.”

  “Wonderful,” I say, not bothering to turn around.

  Daddy’s fumbling around in his jacket pocket. “Vannie, I made out a shopping list. Take a look at it and see if I’ve left anything out.”

  I turn on the reading light. Daddy’s put down about eight items, a far cry from everything we need. I’m glad to have something to think about instead of Tammy’s angry words echoing in my mind.

  “Don’t forget spaghetti,” Robby says. “And all the stuff for your spaghetti-cheese omelet.”

  Pasta, I write. Daddy’s already written eggs and cheese. Bacon bits, I add. Check out the different seasonings. Then I think of what I’ll need for when Aunt Mayda comes to dinner—chicken breasts, bread crumbs, rice or potatoes. I put down both so I can decide that day. Salad, vegetables. I write fast and furious, turning the paper over, as more items come to mind.

  Daddy notices and laughs. “Looks like we’ll be buying out the store.”

  “I may prepare some dinners. It’s better than eating that unhealthy junk food you keep on bringing home.”

  That stops his silly jokes. We ride in silence the rest of the way to the supermarket.

  I’ve nothing to do but run through my fight with Tammy. Visiting her this afternoon was one long bore. She didn’t want to do anything but sit in her room and talk about Archie. She went on and on about him, like he was some romantic knight who’d given up his life for the sake of the woman he loved. The more she said, the more aggravated I got, until my stomach was churning and I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Stop turning him into a hero. The only thing Archie managed to do was knock himself out and die.”

  She glared and said I was heartless, and the least I could do was help him.

  “I don’t know what he wants me to do!” I shouted. “He hasn’t told me.”

  Oh, you know all right,” was her smug answer.

  That was the final straw.

  “Tammy,” I told her, “you’ve been watching too many soaps. I don’t want to meddle in other people’s business and you shouldn’t, either!”

  She sniffed. “I’m sorry, Vannie, but we need to help Archie fulfill his final wish so he can rest in peace.”

  “We? I don’t think we’ll do anything of the kind,” I said sarcastically.

  “Well, you asked me to help you. It was my idea to go to the library and find out what happened to him.”

  “Right, and maybe telling you about Archie in the first place was one big mistake.”

  I knew I shouldn’t have said that, even before the words left my mouth. Tammy ran from the room and locked herself in the bathroom. I waited a while. When she didn’t come back, I went down to the den and watched TV till Daddy honked for me.

  We pull into the strip mall closest to MG. As we’re walking into the well-lit supermarket, I give Daddy the list.

  “Here,” I say, and take his hand. Daddy smiles and squeezes mine back. I’m glad. Now at least I don’t have two people mad at me.

  We grab a wagon and wheel it up and down the aisles. Daddy’s in a good enough mood. He doesn’t rush me when I study food labels to find out its nutritious value the way Mom taught me to do.

  I stop at the meat counter. “Should we get some meat?” I ask.

  “Why not?” Daddy asks.

  “And some chicken?”

  “Sure, okay.”

  I giggle. “You mean I can buy anything I want to?”

  “You’re the cook,” he tells me, “but remember, our freezer in the cottage is kind of small.”

  Robby runs off and returns with two brands of cat food. “Which should I get, Vannie. This kind or that?”

  I shrug. “Try them both. And get some dried food, too.”

  “Okay,” Robby says, and he’s gone. Daddy, I notice, hasn’t said one word.

  By the time we head for the checkout counter, our wagon is full. All the registers have long lines.

  “Oh, no,” I grumble.

  “What will you make for dinner tonight?” Daddy asks as we wait.

  “I don’t know. Something easy.”

  “Make the spaghetti-cheese omelet,” Robby says.

  I laugh. “That’s easy enough.”

  When it’s our turn, the three of us unload our stuff onto the conveyer belt. Outside, we put the packages into the trunk. We get into the car. Daddy turns on the ignition and asks Robby and me, “All right, you guys, how many minutes to the cottage?”

  “Five!” I shout.

  “Seven!” says Robby.

  “And we’re off!” Daddy says, marking the time.

  “Go faster!” I order.

  “No, slower,” Robby demands.

  Daddy laughs and says he’ll drive at the proper speed. We turn onto the MG road, drive past
the empty booth at the entrance. When we reach the cottage, Daddy stops the car and looks at his watch. “Six and a half minutes,” he declares.

  “I win!” Robby shouts. “I don’t have to help tonight in the kitchen!”

  “What a gift for half a minute,” I complain. But I’m grinning in the dark. For the first time since Mom died, the three of us have done something normal.

  *

  “The spaghetti-cheese omelet tastes different,” Robby says as he eats the last bit on his plate.

  “I put oregano in it,” I say.

  “Leave it out next time,” Robby orders. “But give me some more.”

  “Me, too, please,” Daddy says. “More salad, anyone?”

  I yawn as I carry the pot of spaghetti-cheese omelet to the table. Daddy notices. “You’re tired, Vannie. I’ll clean up.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” When I pass the back of his chair I hug his neck with my free hand.

  “Hey, don’t spill any of that on me,” he complains.

  This strikes Robby as real funny. “Put spaghetti-cheese omelet on Daddy’s head!” he shouts again and again.

  “Stop that, Robert, this instant!” Daddy yells.

  I glare at both of them. The good cheer of our kitchen has vanished as quickly as Archie’s disappearing acts. We finish our dinner in silence.

  I am tired, I realize as I go up to my room. Too tired to call Tammy and make up with her. I’ll fix things up with her tomorrow, I decide. First thing, as soon as I get to school. But homework is something else. I’ve no choice but to finish my math problems and read my social studies assignment.

  When I’m done, I pack my knapsack then change into my pajamas and bathrobe. I go downstairs to use the bathroom. All is quiet down there, except for Robby’s little-boy snores. I find Daddy frowning at some papers on his desk.

  “Night, Daddy.” I kiss his cheek.

  He turns to me. “Vannie, I was thinking. Mayda’s been such a help to us, it would be nice if we invited her out to dinner—to show our appreciation.”

  My heart pounds against my ribs. “Isn’t that like overkill? I mean, she’s coming for dinner Wednesday night.”

  “That’s the least we can do, since she’s taking you shopping. And let’s not forget, we’re paying next to nothing for this cottage.”