Mom and Dad get home late. As soon as they pull into the driveway, Jess leaps from the porch swing where she’s been waiting. “Whenever you’re ready, I can show you everything about the audition!”
Mom climbs the steps slowly, gripping the railing. “Okay, let’s get something to eat. It’s been a long day.”
“I need to talk to you guys too,” I say. “It’s important.”
Jess rushes past me, following Mom and Dad to the kitchen. “I’m first!”
Dad takes a container from the fridge. “Leftover mac ’n’ cheese?”
“Fine,” Mom says. “Did you two eat?”
Jess pulls out a chair. “We made sandwiches.”
Dad puts the food in the microwave and then sits next to Jess. “Let’s see what this is all about.” She hands him her phone.
Dad scrolls down. “Cucumber Productions? That’s who’s making the movie?”
Jess nods. “Indie film.”
“Hmm. There’s an audition fee? Fifteen dollars. Is that standard?”
“I’m sure that’s normal. I mean, they have a lot of costs, right? It’s expensive to make a movie. You have the director, all the actors, the set…” Her voice trails off as Dad keeps scrolling, frowning a little.
The microwave beeps and Mom takes out the bowl. “It could be a scam, Jess. What do we know about this production company just by looking at their website?”
“It’s not a scam. I checked it out.”
Dad gives Jess her phone, and glances at Mom as she brings two forks, dishes, and the bowl to the table. They’re not saying anything.
Jess looks from one to the other. “You’ve already made up your mind. You’re going to say no, aren’t you?”
“I know I asked you to show me the information,” Mom starts, eyeing Dad.
“We did discuss it,” he continues, “but we think it’s better if you try out for something here—”
Jess jumps up, then runs upstairs, sobbing. Her door slams, echoing through the house.
Mom picks at the macaroni.
Dad sighs. “What did you want to talk about, Annalise?”
I tell them about Zach and the algae. “He’s staying in cabin eight with his dad. He dipped a cup into the lake out by the reeds and there were, like, little green specks in the water. He said it’s bad, and there’s bacteria, and it could turn into a dead zone.”
Dad says, “Hmm. It’s too dark to see anything now, but I’ll take a look first thing in the morning. It’s by the cove?”
“Yeah, you’ll see the cup. Thanks. It’s really scaring me.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. Algae’s common in lakes. Part of the ecosystem. It comes and goes, and only some species are harmful. They came out and tested for E. coli a week ago and the report was negative. I know some lakes have had problems with algae recently, but like my father always used to say, ‘Panic only when necessary.’ ”
I blow out a long breath. “Okay. I’ll try not to panic.”
“Jay,” Mom says softly, putting her fork down. “Maybe we should let her go to the audition.”
“No. We made our decision. It’s too much right now.”
“It’s just, she’s so excited, and something happened with her friends…”
“This thing doesn’t even sound legit, Jackie. She always nags us until we give in. She can find something else.” He changes the subject and starts telling Mom about the vacuum, which sounds like it can’t be repaired.
“If we’re going to pay for roof and window repairs, let’s use our own vacuum for now,” Mom says. “We’ll deal with getting a new one later.”
“Okay.” Dad brings his dish to the sink. “You know, I was thinking. Since we’re full up, what about bringing back those activities we used to do years ago when every cabin was booked all summer long? Marshmallow roasts, ghost story night, movies under the stars.”
Mom nods. “Great idea. I always loved those.”
“But is that stuff too corny now? Annalise, do you think kids would still be into it?”
“Those things never get old,” I say.
Dad grins. “Good answer.”
They start rinsing the dishes and I go upstairs, still worrying about the algae. Renn’s voice didn’t sound like it usually does. But Dad has to be right. He knows a lot more than Zach, who’s only studied lakes in science class.
One of the pictures in my frame is a snow-covered Renn. When the ice and snow start melting at the end of winter, I can’t wait for Renn to wake up. The first winter, when I was three, I didn’t understand why I couldn’t hear anything. I asked Mom why the lake couldn’t talk. She smiled and told me that nature takes a long sleep to store up energy for spring and summer. When I finally saw some ripples that next April, I splashed my hand in the chilly water and told Renn everything I’d done over the winter. And Renn said, I missed you too.
I get the jar from my dresser and drop in a penny I found by the soda machine. I’m hoping it’s good luck and the algae will turn out to be nothing. I rotate the jar, then give it a shake, admiring the delicious weight of all the coins.
“Where’d you get all that money?”
I jump. Jess is leaning against my doorframe. “From the cabins.”
“So technically, it isn’t really yours.”
“Um, no, it is. People lost them. I found them.”
“What are you gonna use it for?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How much do you have?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She picks at her nail polish. A few green flakes flutter to the floor. “No reason. Just curious.”
“Jess…I know you have a reason. Tell me.”
“I don’t! I was just asking.” Foot stomp. “And it’s JessiKa! Why is no one calling me that?” She dashes down the hall. Door slam, again.
I start to put the jar back on my dresser, then change my mind. I stick it behind a pair of boots on my closet floor. Not that I don’t trust Jess…but my sister doesn’t react well to being told no.
When she was in second grade, she begged Mom and Dad to get her a pet frog, but they said she was too young to take care of a pet herself. So she went to the lake, plucked one from the water, and brought it home. Dad lectured her as they went back and returned it. Last year, Jess wanted to get hair extensions but that was a no too. She used clear tape, the kind for boxes, to attach two imitation blond braids to her hair. Mom had to cut them out. Her hair is still growing back.
What is my sister going to come up with now?
The next morning when I wake up, there’s no sound from Jess’s room and her door is still closed. Mom and Dad are already gone. They leave before six every day in the summer. I figure Jess will sulk for a while, so I don’t call her. I grab my cap and a granola bar and start walking to the cabins.
Main is quiet, the shops aren’t open yet. The flamingos are upright in the Alden’s window, and one is wiggling a little. Mr. Alden is there, trying to position it. I stop as he looks at me and holds up a hand. His palm has worn lines, like the grooves on a seashell. I start to raise my hand too because I know I should, but it falters and drops loosely to my side. Does he know that Mrs. Alden was in the window on my found days?
A little ping plucks my heart as he keeps attempting to steady the flamingo. I didn’t go to the funeral. Or to their house afterward. Mom and Dad didn’t make me. They let me decide. I went to Maya’s house that day and played with her new kitten.
Maya’s parents went. Everyone in town did, I think. The cemetery’s off the highway, on a hill as you leave town. Mom’s family is buried there. Every time I pictured people in black gathered around Mrs. Alden’s casket, dabbing their eyes, I stroked the kitten’s soft fur and held him close to my chest. Maya offered to let me take him home for the night. “He could have a sleepover at your house,” she said. I told her thanks, but I was okay, I really was. Besides, Jess is allergic to cats.
A breeze tumbles a crumpled newspaper page across the sidewalk until it gets wrapped around a lamppost. I stare at the row of flamingos, ALDEN’S GIFTS stamped on all of their necks. Like they’re the property of the store. Like I was.
They called me the “Alden’s Baby” during the police investigation, in the news stories, and on the flyers.
No clues emerge in mysterious Alden’s Baby case.
Officials search for Alden’s Baby witnesses.
Phone tip line set up for Alden’s Baby probe.
Alden’s Baby investigation at a standstill.
What was the person thinking, dumping me here? Not at a fire station, not at a hospital. Who would do that to their child?
The day of Mrs. Alden’s funeral, after I left Maya’s, I found a small, corked glass bottle with layers of colored sand floating in the lake. A kid must have made it, then lost it. I fished the bottle out, and held it up, the colors glinting in the sun.
“How did this end up here?” I asked.
Renn took a moment to answer. How do things end up anywhere?
Mr. Alden isn’t in the window anymore. The door creaks, starts to open.
I yank the Renn Lake Rentals cap down so low it practically covers my eyes, then run.
I could find my way there with a blindfold on. In the middle of the night. With every step, every slap of my soles on the sidewalk, I feel like I’m pushing away the Alden’s Baby. And when I get to the water, that unknown baby evaporates. I’m me, not her, and I have a name.