CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

RECONCILE

rec·on·cile

verb \rek-ǒn-sɪl\

—to restore a relationship after a quarrel

“This really is the best ice cream in the world,” I declared, digging my spoon into my sundae. “How can you possibly go wrong with Banana-Coco-Choco-Loco?”

Between Jonathan, Lucille, Jolina, me, and all our siblings and parents, we took up most of the seating in Peghiny’s Ice Cream Parlor. It was like having our own private celebration.

“I don’t know about that, Ella. I’m not a big coconut fan,” said Jonathan, wrinkling his nose. “But the Soda Pop Sundae Swirl rocks big time!”

I stuck out my tongue and made a funny face. He laughed and stuck his tongue out in reply. Across the table, Lucille alternated between stirring her ice cream into a mushy mess and licking the spoon. Jolina sat next to her, enjoying her strawberry shake instead of a sundae. Our four shiny trophies, along with the stuffed opossum, were arranged in the middle of our table. It was the strangest centerpiece I’d ever seen.

“I still can’t believe they went back and judged our project,” Jonathan said.

Jolina nodded. “I know. When they called our names up on stage, I thought I’d gone crazy and was hearing things.”

“I’m still amazed that even with all the mismatched fonts, multi-colored animals, dripping glue, and bad spelling, they gave us Best of Show,” said Lucille.

I looked at Lucille. “It was a math project, not a spelling test.”

“Well, look who’s not a perfectionist anymore,” she said, winking.

I swallowed a big blob of ice cream and gave myself some major brain freeze. Someone once told me if I pressed my thumb on the roof of my mouth, brain freeze would go away fast.

“Bwan fweez,” I said, with my thumb in my mouth.

All three of them nodded.

Aunt Willa came over with her camera. “Let’s have a victory photo with your ice cream. Everybody lean in.”

She took a couple different shots and then headed back to the grown-ups’ table. I thought of the animal photographs she had taken and how I was the one who destroyed them because I didn’t follow Ms. Carpenter’s rules about candy in the classroom. It was kind of the same situation with Aunt Willa—only reversed. I had a set of rules I wanted her to follow; the only difference was I never told her my rules. I didn’t tell her anything until after I blew up at her. True, some of the fault was hers, but I was beginning to realize that I wasn’t completely innocent either. I knew I owed her an apology … a real one this time.

“Hey, Aunt Willa,” I said and squeezed out of the booth, pulling her over to the stools at the counter.

“What’s up, Ella Bella?”

I stared down at my feet and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You said that already,” Aunt Willa said.

“I know,” I whispered. My chest felt tight. “But this time I actually mean it.”

Aunt Willa smiled while she swiveled back and forth on her stool. “Ah. Are you saying that earlier I got the ‘my-mother’s-standing-right-here-what-else-am-I-going-to-say’ apology?”

I blushed. “Yes.”

“I knew that was the version I was getting at the time. But I was willing to take what I could get.”

“It’s not really your fault about the candle and the panpipe music. I never told you. I also never told you how crazy organized I have to have things. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I guess I ended up doing that anyway when I exploded at you.”

She gave me a big hug. “I promise not to play my music or light smelly candles when you’re in the room. And I won’t touch your stuff without talking to you first. Deal?”

I nodded. “Deal. And I promise if something’s bothering me, I’ll talk to you right away and not erupt like a volcano.” I bit my lip. “I also promise not to chase Chewy.”

She laughed. “You and Chewy can shake on that when we get home.”

As I slid back in the booth, Lucille asked, “What was that all about?”

“Just something I needed to say to my roommate.”

“How is it sharing a room with your aunt?”

“Let’s just say it’s getting better,” I said with a smile.