19

MY TURN

What’d the letter say?” I asked as we drove home. “Can I read it?”

“It’s about grown-up things,” she answered.

“But you could tell me some of it, couldn’t you?”

“Part of it talked about a letter she’d written to me a long time ago, apologizing for how she’d acted toward me, especially for not coming to the wedding, and how she was so excited about the baby. How she had wanted to reconcile.”

Reconcile? Another new one for my word book. “What’s that mean?”

“She wanted to become friends.”

“So where’s the letter? Do you have it?”

“No, she never mailed it,” Mom said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“The day she wrote it was the day of the accident,” Mom replied sadly.

“Oh,” I replied. What else could I say?

So, that’s why she’s letting me go to Los Angeles with Roxanne.

• • •

We’d only been home for an hour, and I was busy cleaning out Hazel’s smelly litter box, when Athena came over.

“So?” she asked as she plopped on my bed.

“So I’m leaving this coming Saturday to go to Los Angeles to stay at her house for a week.”

“No way. Are you flying alone?”

“Not. Mom’s driving me back to Seattle and Roxanne and I are taking the plane together.”

“Why are you calling her Roxanne? Isn’t she your grandma?”

“Yep,” I replied, “but I didn’t decide what I should call her yet.”

“Are you gonna go see the Hollywood sign and the Walk of Fame and go to Malibu and Disneyland and Universal City? Because if you are, you have to take me with you.”

“I don’t think so—not this time, Athena. I mean, I don’t really know her at all, but I don’t think she’d say yes.”

Athena poked out her lip and frowned.

“I promise to take lots of pictures, though.”

“Okay, and then when we’re old . . . like, eighteen . . . we can go there together, promise?”

I grinned and nodded.

We went to the kitchen to raid the fridge, and Daisy and Wyatt were already there. They were speaking French to each other. When they do, both Athena and I wonder what they’re saying, but we figure it’s mushy stuff because of the way their eyes get that dreamy-romantic look. When it happens when I’m alone it’s just plain embarrassing, but when Athena’s there she starts clowning around, making it funny.

“Bonjour, petites dude-ettes, good to see you,” Wyatt said.

“Hey, Wyatt,” Athena and I replied at the same time.

When Wyatt kissed Daisy on the tip of her nose, Athena began making imaginary kisses into the air, and said, “Ooh-la-la, lovebirds!” I tried hard to keep the giggles inside my mouth, but they came out anyway.

Daisy rolled her eyes at us. “Petits enfants. I forgot there were such little children here,” she said.

Wyatt put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. “Chillax, females!” We all cracked up.

Daisy joined Athena in the refrigerator raid and asked, “So how was the art show, V?”

“Fine,” I told her. Later, when we were alone, I’d tell her the whole story, but not now. “Plus we went to Serious Pie.”

“Lucky Violet,” Daisy said.

Right then, Athena, with her big mouth, broke my big news. “And she’s going to Los Angeles on Saturday and Disneyland and Hollywood and maybe even Malibu,” she blabbed.

“What!” Daisy shrieked.

“Awesome, little dude-ette!” Wyatt shouted.

Part of me didn’t want to straighten this out, but I knew I had to. Otherwise, the story was going to get bigger and bigger and bigger. “I never said we were going to Disneyland or Hollywood or Malibu, but I am going to Los Angeles for a whole week.”

“No way! I wanna go,” D whined like a kid begging for a toy.

I never got to go to Connecticut with Daisy. Now everyone wants to have a piece of my excitement. It’s my turn.

“Maybe next time,” I said with a big grin.

“C’est la vie,” Wyatt said to Daisy.

And with that, the four of us began to devour the food.

Day by day, like the food on the table, the boring pieces of my life were being swallowed up.