10

Now Open on Sunday

The following day, Daddy didn’t go to church with us. Instead, he opened the Wonderland. For as long as I could remember, the Wonderland had always been closed on Sundays.

“It’s because of all the bills, huh?” I asked Mom as we drove.

Mom stared straight ahead. “I may be going back to school to get my teaching credentials. With another degree I’d make more money.”

She’d been talking about going back to school for years, but so far that’s all it’s been—talk.

“We could sell it,” Jade said.

“Sell what?” Mom asked.

“The Weirdland. I mean, if it’s not making enough money, what’s the point? It’s a stupid place to live, anyway. If we sell it, we can live somewhere normal,” Jade answered.

“It’s not called the Weirdland,” I reminded her again.

“I’ll call it whatever I want to call it!” Jade informed me in her snippy way.

Mom spoke up. “We are not selling the Wonderland. It’s your daddy’s life.”

Jade kept yapping, “I’m just saying . . .”

Mom frowned. “Not another word, Miss.”

Miss was code for “if you have good sense, you’ll shut up now.” And Jade did.

When we got home, I found Daddy trimming his bonsai trees and plants. He was whistling a tune the way he sometimes does when he’s happily working. The sound of his whistling always makes me smile. Over and over, from the time I was little, I’d tried to learn how, putting my lips together and blowing. But no matter what, I’d only been able to produce the sound of plain old air, and after I’d failed for what felt like the hundredth time, I’d finally given up.

“Howdeedoo, Zoe,” he said when he saw me.

There were no customers around that I could see and I wondered if any had come in. “Any business?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he replied without looking up. “Suppose folks in the neighborhood are used to us being closed on Sundays.”

“You could put a sign outside that says ‘Now Open on Sundays.’ Then people would know,” I said.

He looked up at me and smiled. “Good idea, Zoe . . . very good idea.”

Right then, inside Zoe G. Reindeer, a spark or two of happiness came to life.

And because I finally had his attention, it seemed like a perfect time to bring up baobab trees. “By the way, Daddy, that man from yesterday wasn’t trying to buy the Wonderland. He was from Madagascar and he was looking for baobab trees, but Grandpa checked the computer and said we don’t have any. Do we?”

“Baobab? That tree that looks upside down?”

“Uh-huh,” I answered. “Some people even call it the upside-down tree and the monkey bread tree.”

“Monkey bread tree?” He completely stopped what he was doing. “That, I didn’t know.”

I blurted out the other stuff I knew about baobabs and ended with, “It’s endangered.”

“Endangered, huh?” he repeated, and went back to working on his miniature tree. “Didn’t know that either.”

Now, I thought. “If it’s endangered, shouldn’t we buy some?” I asked.

“Very hard to grow in this climate, Zoe. That much I do know. Temperatures in Pasadena can dip to near freezing some winters.”

“Maybe we could buy one and try to grow it in the greenhouse. I’d take care of it.”

Daddy sighed. “Not now, Zoe. The cacti I bought yesterday cost me more than I thought, plus the gas to get to the desert and back, and the other bills . . . Not now, Zoe.”

Like a rock tossed in the pond, my spirits sank. “Okay,” I replied.

“But the sign’s a good idea. I’ll get to work on that as soon as I’m finished here,” he added.

“I could help you,” I offered.

“And let your mom catch you working on a Sunday? You know how she is . . . bad enough me being out here.”

He was right. I’d heard Mom warning him earlier this morning that everyone needed a day of rest and ours was supposed to be Sunday.

“Well, can you at least teach me how to trim the bonsai? That’s not working—it’s learning.” I’d asked him I don’t know how many times before, but he’d always said no, I wasn’t old enough.

A smile painted his face and loud laughter flew from his mouth. Daddy motioned me to come close. “Okay, Zoe.”

Right then, Imaginary Zoe knocked on the door to my mind.

It was Zoe’s graduation day from college. Of course, Zoe looked gorgeous in her black cap and gown. She received degrees in both horticulture and business. Daddy and Mom presented her with a bouquet of flowers. One day soon, she’d expand the family business. She’d change the name to Zoe’s Exotic Plant Wonderland and have locations all over the country.

“Zoe?” Daddy said.

“Huh?”

“Daydreaming again?”

I didn’t know he’d noticed. “Kinda,” I replied.

He placed my hand around the small pruning clippers. “This requires precision, Zoe. Very carefully, clip right here.” He pointed to a spot. “But be careful.”

I squeezed and clipped. A teeny piece of leaf fell off. My hands were a little shaky and beads of sweat broke out on my face.

“Very good!” he said, and pointed to another spot. “Now here.”

I was ready to clip again when my glasses slipped down and I missed, cutting off an entire tiny branch instead.

“Zoe!” he fussed, then yanked the clippers from my hand.

“Sorry. My glasses slipped—I couldn’t see. It’s not my fault, Daddy. Really.”

Sometimes I can’t do anything right.

“Sorry,” I repeated. “Don’t be mad.”

Daddy patted my hand. “I’m not mad, Zoe. We all make mistakes.”

It was feeling like one of those times when he was going to say “I love you,” but a woman customer walked through the door and grabbed his attention.

“Okay if I go to Quincy’s?” I asked.

Daddy glanced at the wall clock. “Yes, but be sure and be back by five. We’re having dinner at your nana’s.”

“I will,” I replied. And while he waited on the lady, who was the first customer to discover we were now open on Sundays, Zoe G. Reindeer slipped outside.