Nothing is creepier than a bunch of adults being very quiet.
—Tina Fey
Monday, March 2, 9:17 p.m.
In my room, thinking about what I heard
And what I didn’t
When I got home from dance practice, Aunt Lilly, Aunt Lila, and my mom were at the kitchen table. Mom had her laptop open, and there were papers, pens, and coffee cups everywhere. I imagine it’s what a presidential campaign strategy session might look like, but given what Gaga told us last night, I was pretty sure Mom and her sisters weren’t discussing politics.
“April, there’s pizza,” Mom said, motioning to the box on the counter. “Take a slice and you can eat dinner in the family room with May and June.”
I knew that meant she wanted me to take my pizza and go because they were discussing something she didn’t want me to hear. But in my opinion, a kitchen in a house full of people is no place to carry on a private conversation. Plus, I was curious about what they were saying.
I put a slice of mushroom pizza on a plate and then filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave. As the sound from the microwave filled the room, everyone at the table looked at me like they wanted an explanation as to why I was still there.
“I’m making tea,” I said.
“Tea with pizza?” Aunt Lilly asked, like that was an unheard-of combination.
“I like tea with pizza.” I turned around to face the microwave. As I watched the clock counting down the time, I hoped they’d forget I was there and keep talking. It seemed to work.
“We have to intervene,” said Aunt Lilly. “We’ll just tell Mom we’re taking her to the medical center in Birmingham for a second opinion. I already have a list of doctors we can call.” I heard the shuffling of papers.
“She’s a grown woman,” my mom reminded her older sister. “You can’t just make her do something she’s already told you she doesn’t want to do.”
When the microwave beeped, my mom and aunts all looked at me. “Is your tea ready?” Mom asked.
“Almost,” I said as I slowly took the teabag out of the box and got the milk from the refrigerator and the honey out of the pantry. Mom gave me a hurry-up look but then went back to the conversation with her sisters.
“She trusts Dr. Green, and she knows how she wants to handle this,” said Mom in a low voice. “I think we need to respect that.”
“Well, I disagree with how she’s handling it,” said Aunt Lilly. Her voice was anything but low. It was obvious she was agitated that Mom wasn’t in agreement with her.
“What about the trip?” asked Aunt Lila. “We haven’t even discussed it. Mom really wants us to all go.”
“If we all stick together on this and say we’re not going, it will force her to cancel the trip,” said Aunt Lilly.
“Like a boycott?” I asked. I hadn’t meant to interject, but it just slipped out.
My mom and aunts all looked at me. “April, take your tea and pizza into the other room,” Mom said.
Stalling was no longer an option, so I went into the family room and watched SpongeBob with my sisters while I ate. When we finished, the conversation in the kitchen was still going strong.
I took the dinner plates into the kitchen and started to wash them in the sink. As a card-carrying member of this family, I felt I had the right to know what was being said, but apparently Mom disagreed. “April, leave the plates on the counter, please, and go do your homework, and make sure May and June do theirs too.” Her voice was all business.
I started my homework, but I had a hard time focusing on the biological behavior of plants when I was a whole lot more interested in the behavior that was going on in the kitchen between my mother and her sisters. Their voices were elevated, which meant they weren’t in agreement on what was being discussed. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but from what I’d heard earlier, Aunt Lilly wants to get a second opinion and definitely not go on the trip. Mom wants to respect what Gaga wants, and if I had to guess, Aunt Lila hasn’t made her mind up about how she feels. It sounds like she’s more Team Mom than Team Aunt Lilly, but I’m not sure.
When I heard the front door shut a few minutes ago, I looked at my watch. My aunts were already at my house when I got home at 5:45, and they left at 9:02. That means they talked for at least three hours and seventeen minutes, maybe longer.
So I know how long they were talking . . . but what I really want to know is what was said.
Tuesday, March 3, 1:45 p.m.
Study Hall
Today I found out what was going on last night between my mom and my aunts, but now I have something new to wonder about.
I ate lunch with Harry and Sophie, and Harry told us that his mom was really upset when she got home last night. He said he heard her telling his dad that she thinks my mom and Aunt Lila are ganging up on her. She said that they all agreed to be on the same page, but she thinks it’s crazy to let Gaga go on a trip when she’s sick, and my mom and Aunt Lila think we should all respect Gaga’s wishes.
“I didn’t know grown-ups could gang up on one another,” I said.
“Anyone can gang up,” said Harry. “But I’m glad they did. Amanda and I agree with Aunt Flora and Aunt Lila. Not just because we want to go skiing. We think Gaga should get to choose what she wants to do. It’s not like she’s a child.”
“I totally agree,” I said between bites of my tuna wrap. Harry and I both looked at Sophie for her to weigh in. I was sure she was going to agree with us. She’s usually the poster child for letting people have free choice.
“Huh?” Sophie looked like she hadn’t been paying any attention to what we were talking about. I repeated the details of the debate between the sisters. But when I finished, Sophie had this weird, blank look like she hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
I waved my hands in front of her face. “Earth to Sophie.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said like she just realized her lack of interest was obvious. Then she muttered something about having a test and left.
“That was weird,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “A lot of weird things are going on in our family lately.”
I had to agree. Gaga is sick. Mom and her sisters are fighting, and Sophie is suddenly all loopy and distracted. I don’t usually think of Harry as a particularly good barometer of human emotion, but today I’d say he was spot on.
When I got home from dance, there was a note from Mom saying that she was at Aunt Lila’s, Dad was at the diner, and there was meatloaf and green beans for May, June, and me in the oven.
Translation: Mom and her sisters are back at it.
10:42 p.m.
Leo just called, which was good because it made me stop listening to the conversation that was going on across the hall in Mom and Dad’s room, about the fact that Aunt Lilly is now officially not talking to Mom or Aunt Lila. Listening to Mom tell Dad what was going on was making me feel sick. It’s bad enough that Gaga has cancer, but it just seems like completely the wrong time for my mom and her sisters to be fighting, when they have always been close.
“April, you’re kind of quiet,” Leo said a few minutes into our conversation. “I find it odd you have no comment on the fact that the highly esteemed university I go to is no longer offering ham or turkey as fillings at the make-your-own omelet station.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. Leo knows me well enough to know I would normally have a lot to say on a topic like that. “Sorry,” I said. “I guess my mind was elsewhere.”
“Care to share?” asked Leo.
I’d already told him about Gaga’s cancer, but this latest dramatic development was new news.
“Hmmm,” said Leo when I was done talking. I gave him time to think.
“There’s a political principle called majority rule,” he said when he finally spoke. “It’s a system that gives the majority, usually constituted by fifty-one percent of an organized group, the power to make decisions binding upon the whole.”
“You sound like a dictionary,” I said.
“Thanks,” said Leo, like there was no higher compliment. “It might help matters if your mom and Aunt Lila acquaint your Aunt Lilly with this principle.”
“You’re a genius,” I said to Leo.
“Not really,” said Leo. “A genius wouldn’t have told you about this principle, because if it works, it means you’ll be off skiing in Utah when I return to Faraway for spring break.”
He had a point there. But honestly, Aunt Lilly can be pretty stubborn, and it’s going to take a lot more than some fancy principle to get her to change her mind.
Friday, March 6, 8:15 p.m.
It’s official
My family is all in. We’re going to Park City, Utah, to go skiing.
But it was NOT an easy decision. There was a lot of debate all week about what to do. Aunt Lilly wanted everyone to say they wouldn’t go on the trip, in hopes that Gaga would cancel it and stay home and see more doctors.
Aunt Lilly finally gave in and went along with Mom and Aunt Lila, who both felt Gaga should get to decide what she wants to do. But it wasn’t Leo’s majority rule principle that swayed her. Harry and Amanda did the trick. They both told Aunt Lilly they feel strongly that at age eighty, Gaga should get to make her own decisions.
Gaga is thrilled that we’re all going, but now she’s stressed. She’s knitting ski caps for all of us. That’s seventeen caps in two weeks, which Gaga says is a lot, even for a super-knitter like herself. I’ve seen the wool she’s using, and it’s neon orange. When I told her it’s kind of bright, she said it’ll make us easy to spot in a snowstorm. No doubt she’s right.
Aunt Lilly tried to convince Gaga not to knit the caps. She said it would exhaust her. But Gaga said that knitting matching ski caps for her family is the second item on her bucket list, and then she laughed like she thought that was hysterically funny.
So in two weeks, my whole weird, opinionated, soon-to-be-neon-orange-capped family is going to Utah to go skiing.
Park City, get ready.