Chapter 26

The lamp next to my bed clicked on and I opened my eyes. Dad leaned over my right side while Mo hovered above my left. All I could see were their two faces. For a second, I forgot they were divorced and belonged to other people now.

“Where’s Tutu?” I asked.

“Agnes is awake!” said Mo. “She can talk!”

Dad shushed her and they both stood up. Now I could see another person, an older woman with white hair and brown eyes.

“I’m a friend of your father’s, Agnes,” she said calmly. “Do you mind if I listen to your heart?”

A stethoscope hung from her neck and she was carrying a black bag.

Obediently, I took deep breaths as she listened. After slipping a thermometer in my mouth, and taking my blood pressure, she poked at my neck and stretched my eyelids.

“All her vitals seem fine,” she told my parents. Then she gazed down at me with a puzzled look. “Anything bothering you, Agnes?”

“I’ve lost Tutu” was all I could say.

“Everyone is out in the field looking for her,” Dad said. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find her.”

I didn’t believe him. I didn’t know if I could believe anyone ever again. “You were supposed to get her. You promised you would get her.”

“Is there anything else going on?” the woman asked.

I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. Even if I were to answer that question, where would I start?

“Ah-ha!” Mo yelled from the bathroom.

She emerged holding the small box of pads.

“You got your period, Agnes! I knew it. You’re a woman now!”

Normally, nothing could have humiliated me more than that ridiculous statement. But nothing felt normal anymore, and all the humiliation I had stored up inside of me had been used up at the party.

“When did you get your first period?” the doctor asked gently, as if to say she understood my mother was part of the problem.

“Today,” I mumbled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dad back up and slump against the wall. I wanted him to leave. I wanted all of them to leave.

“Well, that explains it,” said Mo, smacking her hands on her thighs.

“Not exactly,” said the doctor. “It’s common to feel lightheaded or possibly faint with menarche, but it’s quite unusual to pass out cold.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?” asked Dad.

“No!” I shouted and threw back my covers. “You should all leave me alone and stop ruining my life and just find Tutu! Please find Tutu.”

I rolled over, pulled the sheet over my head, and sobbed into my pillow.

I heard Mo say, “Now what do we do?”

“Let her sleep if she can and go find the dog,” said the doctor. “I’ll be down at the party. We can chat before I leave.”

The harder I cried, the more my stomach cramped which made me cry even more. Just when I’d thought my life was finally getting better—a fresh start in a new place, alone with my dad—it instantly became a hundred times worse than it had ever been. If I let myself really think about what had happened, what I had done, and the shame of it all, I knew I would never stop sobbing. Every catastrophe seemed worse than the next, impossible to fix.

At some point, through my tears, I became aware that my parents were sitting on either side of my bed, by my feet. I couldn’t understand why they seemed more concerned about me than Tutu.

“Why won’t you leave me alone? I know you don’t care about me anymore.”

Mo rubbed my leg while Dad squeezed my ankle. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t. Because I knew it would be the last time they would hold on to me together, before they would let go forever and hold onto other people.

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” said Mo. “However, your dad and I are starting to see how tough this past year has been on you.”

“And we’re so sorry about that,” added Dad. “We want to make things better.”

I sniffed back my tears and wiped my arm across my wet face. “How? You’re getting married and Mo has a whole new family. I have no one.”

“What are you talking about?” said Mo. “You have a posse of people who love you and want the best for you, especially your dad and me. We will always be your parents first, Agnes, before anyone or anything else in our lives.”

“Always,” said Dad.

I wanted to believe them, but I still had so many doubts.

“Listen, I know meeting Julia this way must have come as a shock,” Dad said, followed by a long pause. “I tried to tell you about her, so many times, but it was clear you weren’t ready. Then she surprised me by flying in a whole month early. Julia had no idea that you didn’t know about the engagement, honey. That’s my fault. I’m so sorry for not being upfront. With both of you,” he said as he looked at Mo.

Keeping the whole truth about Julia from me wasn’t nearly as dishonest as what I’d done, but still it was painful to hear my dad’s apology. It made me wonder if Fin could accept mine, or even speak to me ever again.

Suddenly, the door flew open and banged against the wall.

“WE FOUND HER!” yelled Julia.

She was barefoot, but still in her fancy black dress, which was now covered in dirt. In her arms was Tutu.

“Hallelujah!” Mo yelled even louder.

Dad sighed with relief. “Where was she?”

I wiped the rest of my tears away so I could see her clearly. Julia placed Tutu on my lap. She was shaking, so I pulled her close and kissed her soft head.

“When we didn’t find her in the meadow,” said Julia, still out of breath, “most of us headed to the woods. But then von Zimmermann, all on his own, discovered her sitting at the corner of the little stone bridge that crosses over to Renew. Like she was waiting for someone.”

Me. Tutu was waiting for me.

“Fin found her?” I asked.

“Fin?” said Dad. “You mean Finley?”

I nodded, then turned away. Now was not the time to explain that part of my life.

“Honestly,” said Julia, “that young man saved the day. It was as if he knew exactly where Tutu would be.”

Part of me was glad to know Fin was the one who’d found Tutu, but a bigger part didn’t want to think about him at all, because that would remind me of the mess I’d made of everything.

“You were supposed to wait for me on the front porch,” I whispered into her furry ear, “not wander off searching for me.”

The three adults huddled over my bed.

“It’s wonderful seeing you look happier, Agnes,” said Dad. To Mo and Julia, he added, “Let’s give these two space to rest. We still have some guests to tend to downstairs.”

“Good idea,” said Mo. “You and your conductor gal can skedaddle, and I’ll stay here with Agnes.”

As the two of them headed toward the door, I was surprised to hear myself say, “Thank you, Julia.”

She paused and turned around.

“For what, Agnes?”

“For not being mad about Tutu. And for letting me take care of her this summer.”

She grinned, displaying her mouthful of sparkling white teeth. “The summer isn’t over yet!”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

As soon as the door closed, Mo said, “So I have to ask you. Was your father ever actually sick?”

So much for giving me space to rest. I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. “No. I’m sorry, Mo. I made it up. I wanted so badly to come here this summer and . . .”

“And your wicked old mom was going to drag you away.”

I peered out from the folds of the pillowcase. “I wouldn’t call you wicked.”

“But you wanted to get away from me so much that you . . .” She trailed off.

“Lied.” I finished it for her. “I lied. I lied to a lot of people this summer, Mo. It wasn’t just you.”

“Yes, we pieced that together when someone called you Chloe.”

Another moan escaped me. “I know I messed up. But can we talk about it later? Please? I’m so tired.”

Mo opened her mouth as if she was about to say something else, but then—miraculously—she closed it. After another second or two she said, “Okay. There’s one more thing, though. Would you really rather live with your dad than with me?”

Dad must have already talked over the custody agreement with her. Maybe that’s why he wanted to bring the whole family together today.

For the first time in my life, I felt a little sorry for my mother. “I thought so,” I replied, “but . . .”

“But what?”

I could tell she wanted to hear that I would miss her too much or that I didn’t want to leave my life in Kettleboro. But none of that was true. And yet, living with Dad wasn’t going to be what I’d expected either. All the things I’d resented Mo for—moving on, getting a new family, changing our lives—were things that Dad had done too, without even telling me.

I remembered Fin’s answer when I asked about his connection to Harriet, so I said, “It’s complicated, Mo.”

She nodded slowly. For once she didn’t seem to have anything to say.

I forced myself to smile. “And I really am tired. I just want to sleep.”

She patted my back. Something about the way she did it felt sad yet soothing at the same time. “Got it.”

***

A minute after she left, there was another knock at the door.

“Mo, I really—”

“It’s me.” Dot walked in, holding a plate of food. She carefully placed it on the night table. “You didn’t eat much at dinner. Are you feeling any better?”

The barbequed chicken didn’t smell so bad anymore.

“I am,” I said, and I meant it. “Are you and your dad leaving?”

“In a few minutes. Roger hasn’t talked to every single person yet.”

I couldn’t help grinning.

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Are you going back to Kettleboro?”

I sighed, thinking of how confidently Julia had swept out onto the patio—her patio at her house. Tutu was her dog. Dad was her fiancé. Nothing about this place belonged to me. “I guess I should.”

“That’s too bad,” said Dot. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Agnes.”

I sat up and pulled Tutu closer. The fact that Dot thought I had been a friend at all made me realize how lonely she must be, and how terrible I had been to her.

“We can text each other,” I said.

“Really?” She moved a little closer and pulled her smartphone out of the pocket of her pleated skirt. “Can I have your number?”

I took her phone, added my info, and handed it back to her. She stared at it so long, I wondered if she had any other contacts.

“I’d better go,” she finally said. “Tutu is making my nose itch. Will you let me know when you come back to visit your dad?”

As it turned out, I was glad I had confided in Dot. In a way, she was the one person in the world who got me.

“You bet, Vladlena.”