They met on the very first day of school.
The night before, Nella Sabatini laid out her uniform, a plaid jumper and round-collared blouse. She had new pink sneakers with snow-white laces she still didn’t know how to tie.
And she had a lunch box. Her father had given it to her, proving again that he loved her best. The lunch box was pink, with her name in sparkly letters. For days Nella had carried it everywhere. That night, it stood on the kitchen counter, waiting to go to kindergarten with her.
Back then, Nella only had one little brother. Salvatore. But her mother was pregnant again, and Nella was sure it was a sister. (Little did she guess that in the coming years her mother would bring home nothing but one fat, squally boy after another.) That night, Mom’s back hurt too much for her to bend over, so Nella stood up on her bed for her good-night kiss. The plan was to leave Salvatore with Nonni, their crabby great-grandmother who lived nearby, and for both parents to walk her to St. Amphibalus Elementary School. Even back in those days, having her parents all to herself was a rare event. Put that together with starting school, and no wonder Nella couldn’t sleep. No wonder she had strange dreams of her mother moaning and her father pacing, no wonder she thought she was still asleep when she felt his hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Not gently.
“The baby,” he said. “The new baby’s coming.”
Nella rubbed her eyes. Baby? Today wasn’t the baby’s day. It was hers. Hers hers hers. She jumped out of bed, hoping her mother would tap her forehead and say, You’re right! How could I forget? Get dressed, Bella. I’ll fix you a special lunch.
But her mother stood clutching the edge of the kitchen table, her lips drawn back in a way that stopped the words in Nella’s throat.
Then it was all a crazy confused rush, with her father yelling at her to get dressed, and Salvatore wailing, and a wild ride to Nonni’s, where Salvatore wailed even louder because he was scared of the old lady, and somehow they were pulling up beside the school and Nella, shoes still untied, was getting out of the car. Alone. Both her parents looked stricken. Maybe they would change their minds.
“You’ll be okay, kiddo.” Her father pointed toward the grown-ups standing on the playground. “They’ll help you. And—”
But then her mother gave a cry, and he hit the gas.
That was when Nella remembered her beautiful new lunch box. Still standing on the kitchen counter.
The school was next to the church. On the edge of the asphalt school yard stood a statue of St. Amphibalus. His hand was raised in blessing, but his eyes were blank. No eyeballs. This was kind of creepy, but who else did she have? She huddled close, setting her hand on his foot.
Please let me have a friend.
“Look,” said a voice. Another pink shoe appeared beside hers. The laces were dazzling white and tied in neat double bows. “We’re twins.”
That wasn’t true. Nella had short curly brown hair, and this girl had long yellow braids. Once Nella had sat behind her in church, and it was all she could do not to reach out and stroke those silky braids. Besides, her own shoelaces were undone and already a little dirty.
“Don’t cry,” said the girl.
“I’m not!”
“Are you in kindergarten too?”
“My shoes aren’t tied and I don’t know how.”
The girl ran away, making Nella start to cry for real, but within moments she was back, dragging a tall boy. The two of them could have stepped out of a fairy tale. She would live in a cottage in the woods, with her father the woodcutter, but he would be a prince, the lonesome kind, looking for true love.
His name was Anthony.
“Tie my friend’s shoe,” the girl commanded, and Prince Anthony bowed.
He had the same pale hair, but thick and curly. Cinderella, that’s who Nella was when he crouched at her feet. He tied her laces in double bows to match his sister’s, then stood up tall and straight.
“You two stick together,” he said.
“Roger that,” his sister said.
A big brother. A brother who looked out for you. (Destined for a lifetime of needy-pest brothers, Nella would always remember that moment.)
The girl, whose name was Angela, had gone to day care. She knew about forming a line, zipping your lips, and raising your hand. By lunchtime, Nella was doing everything Angela did. They were twins after all.
As they went into the lunchroom, she noticed Angela didn’t have a lunch box either. That was comforting, until the lunch lady handed Angela a tray of food. Nella held out her hands, hoping for one too, but the woman, whose hair was trapped in a spidery web, ignored her.
“You don’t get free?” Angela asked.
“No, I guess.” Tears pushed at the back of Nella’s eyes. Why couldn’t she get free too? She was suddenly so hungry. The room was so loud. The thought of her beautiful lunch box, home on the counter, made her miss her mother so much. Nella slumped forward, her head in her arms.
“Bella.”
Out of nowhere, her father loomed over her. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair stood on end. He looked familiar but strange, nearly a stranger, in this strange place. With a jolt Nella understood: The world is much bigger than they told me.
“Great news, kiddo. You have another brother.”
Daddy wasn’t big on smiles, but he beamed as if he’d delivered the best news ever.
“What a day, huh?” He ruffled her hair. “He’s got a set of lungs on him. I swear he’s louder than Salvatore.”
Angela sat very still, like a girl trying to memorize everything she saw and heard.
“Nonni will pick you up. Keep Sal out of trouble. Wow, kiddo. You’ve got two little brothers now. You’re Super Sister, know that?”
He dropped a kiss on top of her head and was gone. Leaving her there, red-eyed and lunchless.
“Your mom had a baby,” said Angela softly. “I wish my mom would have a baby.”
“A stupid brother!” The words burst out fierce and ragged. “I already got one of those. I want a sister!”
Angela blinked. She broke her chocolate chip cookie in half and put it in her mouth. Nella’s own mouth watered.
“Don’t cry,” Angela said.
“I’m not!”
Angela held out the other half of the cookie.
“I don’t got a sister either.” Angela leaned forward till their foreheads touched. “You and me,” she whispered. “We can be secret sisters.”
Nella’s mouth filled with sweetness.
“Okay,” she whispered back.