26

THAT EVENING WE WATCH TWO OLD MOVIES THAT Mom loves, The Wedding Planner and The Wedding Singer. We lay across from each other in our identical full-size beds. I can’t think of the last time Mom and I slept in the same room.

When the second movie ends, Mom reaches over and turns off the lamp on the nightstand. The thick curtains, the hum of the AC unit, the weight of the blankets—it’s all different from home. Even though I know I did the right thing for once, and maybe even fixed something I messed up, I still feel so far away from what’s familiar. A few tears slide down my face and soak into the pillow.

“You okay?” Mom asks.

“I have to tell you one more thing.” I figure I better go on and tell the whole truth. “I’ve been going on hunts with Jasper, trying to raise money for Grampa’s house. I made a little under three hundred dollars.”

“Mabel, I can’t have you scavenging without a grown-up. It isn’t safe. Something you need to keep in mind is that this is Grampa’s decision. I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea of selling the house, he was.”

“What?”

“Of course. You don’t think I’d sell his house without his input, do you?”

I sort of did, but I’m not about to admit it. “I just can’t imagine him anywhere else.”

“Well, you know your grampa. Just takes one look at his yard to know he’s good at reimagining things. He says he’s ready to let go. I think that house holds a lot of memories that’ve kept your grampa from moving on.” I sniff again and Mom clears her throat. “I have a confession to make too. I’ve always been a little envious of the relationship you have with Grampa.”

“Really?” I sit up, but it’s so dark all I see is her shadowy outline.

“You two are so close. I’ve never been like that with him. Not even when I was your age. My mom was his special someone. I was sort of a lonely kid.” Mom is quiet before she says what I’m thinking. “We were so close when you were little, but not so much anymore. I think that’s why I pushed you to do these competitions, trying to force you to spend time with me. You know these pearls I wear were a gift from Grampa on the day you were born. He gave them to me at the hospital. They remind me of what I realized the first time I held you, that if I did my best, maybe I’d never have to be lonely again.”

“Mom…” I start.

“I’m not finished,” she says. “Today didn’t go the way either of us wanted. But I had fun with you.”

“Me too,” I say.

“You have some very innovative tablescaping ideas, and I think we should do more things together. If you want,” Mom adds. “And I love you.”

I laugh. “I love you too, Mom.”

“One last thing I should’ve said a long time ago.” Mom’s bed creaks as she sits up too. “Some changes we can control and some we can’t. But you and I have each other, and no matter what happens, it’ll be okay. Change can sometimes leave a space for something new to grow.”

A few more tears sneak their way down my cheeks. I nod, though I know she can’t see me. Maybe me and Mom and Grampa can figure out what new thing we want to grow, together this time.

Mom and I wake up to the sound of an unfamiliar phone ringing—our wake-up call from the front desk. Mom answers, mumbles a thank-you, then grabs her cell phone. “Goodness,” she says. “I have a few messages from Amanda, Jasper’s mom.”

I sit up too, worried something is wrong with Grampa. But then Mom starts scrolling through and smiling. “Oh, that’s sweet,” she says, and I relax. “She’s found a channel broadcasting the judging results, and they’re going to watch from Whispering Pines.” Mom yawns. “What do you think? Shower or just go down and eat some continental breakfast?”

I stretch. “Just head down.”

“Well, I’m going to shower.” She gets up and takes her outfit into the bathroom.

I sit on the end of the bed, thinking about how badly I treated Jasper and how much I have to tell Grampa. There’s a whole pile of things I still need to fix.

Once we dress, we eat breakfast and then make our way over to the convention center. Mom and I explore the booths, and Mom even buys me a basket she finds at a hand-blown glass table. At eleven thirty she says, “Well, should we head over?”

I nod and we walk toward the area outside the Main Hall. The navy banner is still there. Mom looks over at me and says, “Remember, whatever happens, it’ll be okay.” Mom hooks her arm through mine, and I hope that she’s right.

Next to the tablescaping area, a small stage has been erected overnight. The empty mic stand sets my nerves on edge right away. Mom’s phone buzzes from inside her purse. When she looks at the screen, she mumbles, “Amanda wants to know where we are so Grampa can keep an eye out for us.”

Just then I see something that makes me laugh out loud. “I don’t think they’re actually watching us on TV.”

“What makes you say that?” Mom asks, her attention still on her phone. I touch her forearm and point. Jasper and his mom are slowly making their way through the food court. And they’re not alone. Amanda is pushing Grampa in a wheelchair.

Mom covers her mouth in shock. I’m only happy for a moment before I realize Grampa is going to see Dr. Jon sitting on the table. And there’s Jasper and his big smile. I’ve had so many heart-to-hearts with Mom in the past twenty-four hours that my heart is sort of worn out, but if I want to make things right, I have more work to do.

We meet halfway, and Grampa says, “Surprise.” He holds his left arm out to hug Mom.

“Technically, your grampa isn’t cleared for a day pass until Monday, but I pulled some strings,” Amanda says. Mom and I both hug Amanda, and then we hug Grampa again. I bump Jasper with my forearm.

“I think I had a hard time figuring out what to let go of and what to hold on to. You were right, and I didn’t want to admit—” He holds up his hand and gives me a hug.

A small screech from the sound system comes from the stage, and we all make our way over. The tables are still set from the day before, but scores aren’t posted.

As we walk, I lean down to Grampa and say, “I’m sorry and I should’ve asked first.”

Grampa looks confused. I motion to Mom’s table. When he sees Dr. Jon he gasps and says, “Looks like he landed just where he needed to be.” I grab his hand, he squeezes mine, and I hope that means I’m forgiven.