15

MONDAY AFTERNOON, JASPER AND I GET OFF THE bus and walk to Whispering Pines together. Another whole weekend with no hunts, no finds, no trash-to-treasure projects, and I’ve been in a mood all day. Jasper bumps me with his elbow and says, “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to. But I just thought I’d let you know you could. If you feel like it.”

I kick at fallen leaves and keep my eyes on the ground. “I just want Grampa back home, and sometimes I worry that whatever I do, I won’t get back to the way things were. Grampa always says if it can be broken, it can be fixed. But I don’t know anymore.”

Jasper stops walking for a minute.

“What?” I ask.

“Never mind,” he says, and gives me a smile that’s small and tight.

It’s my turn to stop walking. “What is it?”

“You know I live with my grandma?”

I shake my head.

“My dad got injured and then fired. So, we moved here to live with my grandma because she knows the director of the nursing home and got Mom this job. Now we all live in the house my mom grew up in. It’s okay, but it’ll never be like it was before; it can’t be fixed.” Jasper shrugs. “I have to accept it. My mom says we have to think of ways to make right now better instead of wishing we could go backward.”

“I’m sorry, Jasper,” I say.

Jasper nods. “But this, making money to help you, is different. This we can do something about.” He smiles. “And like you said, you never know what we might find.”

I nod and smile back and stare up ahead at Whispering Pines. What if he’s right though, and this whole mess is something that can’t be fixed no matter how hard I try?

“So, what’s our next mission?” he asks.

“The mall on Sunday afternoon. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

Jasper nods. “Why extra careful?”

“Well, there are security guards there. They work inside the mall, but if they see us, they might ask us to leave.” Maybe it’s because I’m afraid he won’t go with me, but I don’t tell Jasper that Grampa and I’ve never been there together. Whatever Grampa’s reasons for staying away, they can’t be more important than my reason for going.

There’s a man in mint green scrubs working the front desk this time. He’s on the phone when he buzzes us in to Whispering Pines, and as we pass by, he holds out a hand for Jasper to high-five.

The custodian walks past the elevators as we get on.

“Hi, Mr. Jeffries,” Jasper says.

“Hey there, Jasper.” He points a finger in our direction. “Don’t cause any trouble today.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Jasper says. As the doors close, Mr. Jeffries cracks up.

We get off on the third floor and are met by a woman waiting to go down. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite young man,” she says.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Flannigan. You’re looking lovely as always,” Jasper says.

“And you’re an excellent fibber.” She taps Jasper gently with her cane. “And that’s why you’re my favorite young man.”

We walk toward the social room. I can’t quit staring at him. “You’re like a celebrity here.”

He switches to a whisper. “I’m very popular with the older generation. It’s my favorite part of Mom’s job. A person who’s lived a long life is full of stories, and I love a good story. Besides, some of the residents are a little lonely. It feels good to keep them company.”

One of the staff members is setting up for bingo, and the social room is packed. Grampa sits at a table with Mr. Curtis and four ladies. The look on his face when he sees me loosens what’s left of the tightness I’ve been carrying around.

“Mae-mae, I didn’t know you were coming,” Grampa says. His smile droops on the right side, but it’s big and the best thing I’ve seen all day. “And good to see you again, Jasper.” Grampa’s words are slower than usual, but it’s better than it was just a few days ago.

Jasper reaches across the table and shakes Grampa’s hand, then turns to me. “I’m going to say hi to Mom and I’ll meet you back here.” He looks at Grampa and says, “I can’t wait to hear about another one of your finds.”

“Can’t wait to tell you about one,” Grampa says. This takes me by surprise, that Grampa and Jasper have been swapping stories. Does that mean Grampa’s been lonely? Jasper waves and jogs down the hall, his sneakers squeaking.

I didn’t tell Jasper not to let Grampa know about our visit to the Baby of Mine dumpster. Grampa thinks trash-to-cash hauls are less about inspiration and more about digging through garbage looking for something that might be worth money. He’s right, but how’s inspiration supposed to save his house and get him out of this place?

I walk around the table toward the empty seat next to Grampa, the guilt of keeping secrets from him slowing me down, when Grampa stands! No wheelchair. He’s using a cane with four prongs on the bottom. I pounce across the short distance between us and give him a gentle hug.

“You can squeeze harder. I won’t break.” Grampa laughs. And suddenly I start crying right there in front of all the residents gathering for bingo. It’s just a few tears, but I bury my head into Grampa’s sweater. He pats my back. “There now. Come on.”

He leads me down the hall to his room and settles on the edge of his bed. I sit in a chair facing him.

“Want to tell me what’s been going on?”

When Grampa and I were on our searches, I would sometimes talk the whole time and he’d just listen. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve wanted to tell Mom about Ashley and haven’t or if it’s just that I haven’t been alone with Grampa in so long, but everything loosens and spills out. I tell Grampa about Farrah and the matching shirts and the miserable bus rides. And how being with Mom feels so lonely because we don’t understand each other.

Even though I’m telling Grampa all these horrible things, it feels so close to normal that I hardly feel sad. In fact, it’s nice to say them all out loud.

“It’s like Ashley went to camp and now she’s different.” It’s also that Grampa isn’t around, and all the things I like to do, things we used to do together, are different now too, and I’m scared they won’t ever be the way they were again. But I don’t say any of that because I don’t want to make Grampa feel worse than he already must.

Grampa frowns. “I’ve known Ashley since she was little, and she doesn’t seem different. She seems the same.” My confusion must show because he goes on. “Some people spend a lot of time trying to fit in. And some people follow their hearts instead of everyone else.” Grampa sighs. “I know it’s hard, but things change. And it’s okay to move on but appreciate the good times you two had.” It takes Grampa a long time to get all that out. Talking is hard work for him; some words come easy, but some are a struggle.

I sigh. “It feels so weird to have her not like me anymore.”

Grampa harrumphs and crosses his arms. “If being well liked means being like everyone else, I’d rather be unpopular.”

“Well, you’re not in sixth grade.”

“True enough.” He smiles at me. “You remind me so much of your gramma. She was an original too—quick-witted, strong-willed, clever but believed in impossible things.” He looks over at Dr. Jon perched on the windowsill and casting a larger-than-life shadow on the floor. “You know she thought that old thing was magical, like Aladdin’s lamp? She said she used up all three wishes in one day, which was just the sort of thing she’d do.” I’ve heard this story before, but I go ahead and listen again.

“As for you and your mom, well, I’m the last person to ask about that.” Grampa looks out the small window of his room.

“Why didn’t you ever go to her competitions?” I ask.

“The pageants were always her and her mom’s thing.” He shrugs. “It just wasn’t for me. I wanted her to know she doesn’t have to win something to be special.”

I think about how Mom hates the collecting I do with Grampa, but she never says so. She always listens about my finds and even pretends to like them sometimes.

“You should probably tell her that,” I say.

“You’re right.” Grampa nods just as there’s a quiet knock at the door.

“Hey.” Jasper leans his head in. “They’re about to start. You still want to play?”

Grampa uses his cane to rise, and once he’s up, we walk down the hall together. Jasper tells us about the last time he won, and Mrs. Wingfield protested because he wasn’t an actual resident.

“The prize was a vanilla pudding cup. But she was ready to throw down. No joke.”

Grampa and I laugh so loud and hard that we turn heads, and Jasper’s big smile is full blast.

By the time we make it back to the social room there’re just a few seats left. A woman narrows her eyes as we walk by. Jasper whispers, “That’s Mrs. Wingfield.” I giggle all the way to the table.

“You coming to the Halloween party?” Grampa asks. The social director makes her way around to all the tables, passing out cards. When she gets to us, she scans the room and whispers to Jasper, “Mrs. Wingfield has OT in five minutes, so I think it’s safe today.”

“Told you.” Jasper takes his card.

“There’s a party?” I ask.

Grampa nods while Jasper answers. “My mom says it’s a big deal. Every year Mrs. Hayden, the social director, comes up with a theme and the residents do a performance. The local news covers it. This year they’re dancing to ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson. She said she and your mom are teaming up to volunteer.”

“Wait, that old video with the zombies?” The bingo game starts, so we continue our conversation in whispers.

Grampa and Jasper nod. “I’ve got a starring role,” Grampa says, and holds his arms out and groans like the walking dead. “We have rehearsals and everything.”

Jasper bumps me with his shoulder. “Come on. It’ll be fun. It’s the same night as the school’s Fall Festival. We could go to both.”

“The Fall Festival is a costume party,” I say. I think of Ashley and Farrah’s half-hearted invitation for me to dress up as a character I’ve never heard of. The way they included me makes me feel even more left out.

“Well, then we better come up with some costumes soon.” Jasper purses his lips. “Who’s your favorite character from a book?”

“Captain Underpants,” Grampa says. Someone at the front of the room yells “Bingo!”

“Grampa!” I almost kick him under the table. “That was from second grade.”

Jasper is busy laughing.

“Before she did anything she’d yell ‘Tra-la-la!’” Grampa is laughing now too.

I go ahead and gently nudge him with my foot.

“I know exactly who I’m going as,” Jasper says. He holds a hand up. “Don’t tell me yours. Let’s meet there and surprise each other.”

“Deal,” I say. But now that I think about it, Ashley normally decides what our costumes will be. In fact, she made most of the decisions. Well, I can make decisions too.

Jasper nudges me. “What did you say the other day? The best things are unexpected.”

Grampa nods and points a finger at Jasper. “Bingo,” he says.

Jasper and I both roll our eyes and then laugh.

Grampa smiles, but he also sends me a strange look. Then I realize Jasper’s quote might’ve revealed too much. Grampa only said that when we’d go on extreme treasure hunts.

Jasper’s mom rounds the corner with her bag and coat and approaches our table. She points to Jasper. “Sorry, bud, we have to cut bingo short today. Your dad needs the van. Nice to see you again, Mabel.” She turns to Grampa. “And I’ll see you bright and early for our session tomorrow.”

Grampa gives her a salute as Jasper rises and says, “See you in the morning.”

As they leave, Grampa narrows his eyes at me and says, “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

At least he’s not going to tell Mom. And then like magic, the elevator bell dings and out steps Mom carrying a small tower of takeout containers.

Grampa gives my hand a squeeze. “Seems like you’ve found a friend who likes you just the way you are.”

Mom walks over. “What’d I miss?’

“I was saying it’s hard to fit in when you’re one of a kind,” Grampa says.

“Are we talking about you or Mabel, because in my book you’re both definitely originals.” It’s unclear if Mom means this as a compliment.

Grampa laughs out loud, and I feel like I might cry again. Not because I’m sad, but because for the first time since Grampa’s stroke, I feel like our old normal might not be so far away after all.