Chapter 6

The best news of all was, along with a gigantic house and a cool sports car all to ourselves for the entire summer, we were taking care of a dog! An adorable, shaggy little dog with pointy ears and scruffy fur.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said as I dropped to the floor and gathered Tutu into my arms.

“I thought it would be a fun surprise. I know how much you like dogs.”

“I love dogs. I even had a volunteer job lined up at the—” I caught myself and stopped. I didn’t want to think about how the summer was supposed to be. That was behind me now.

“At the where?” he asked, as he put away the groceries he’d bought before picking me up at the bus station.

I pretended not to hear and changed the subject. “So how old is Tutu?”

“She’s twelve years old, like you,” he smiled. “Young for humans, old for dogs.”

Tutu rolled onto her back for a belly rub.

“Can she sleep with me?”

Dad folded up his canvas shopping bags and tucked them in a cabinet. I had been here only a few minutes and already this place felt like home.

“I’m sure she would if she could. But the bedrooms are on the second floor and she has to be carried up the stairs. Arthritis in her hips. Probably best if she sleeps on her comfy bed in the back hall.”

I stood up and Tutu copied me. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Three upstairs and one through that door behind the family room,” he replied as he pointed at the far corner.

Since I’d never lived in a house with more than one bathroom, I had a hard time choosing. “Which one’s the best?” I asked.

“Hard to say—they all have a view of the river.”

“We’re close to a river too?”

Dad grinned. “I knew you’d like it here.”

***

The next morning I sprang out of bed, threw back the curtains, and opened the window. Ribbons of sunshine and the sound of rushing water filled the room. In the distance, just beyond a meadow of wildflowers, the river sparkled. No other houses in sight, nothing but soft green fields and tall trees.

It was hard to believe how miserable I had been only a couple of days ago, and now I was happier than I’d been in my entire life. Having so much space to myself felt better than I’d ever imagined. For three months, I wouldn’t have to share a bedroom, a bathroom, a pet, or even my dad with another person.

After washing up, I slipped a black tank top over my head and pulled on denim shorts. An antique, full-length mirror hung on a stand in the corner by the bureau. I forced myself to take a look. The curves were starting to feel familiar, even though I still didn’t like them.

“Morning, everyone,” I sang as I bounded down the stairs.

Tutu was waiting for me at the bottom step, wagging her stubby tail. Dad stood by the kitchen counter, dressed in bike pants and a fluorescent yellow shirt. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great! Where were you?”

“Took my early morning ride.” He clapped his hands together and checked his watch. “Now it’s time to work! How about we meet back here for dinner at seven?”

“I guess,” I said and looked down at Tutu. “What about her?”

“She’s had her breakfast and I let her out already, but she loves walks and will follow you as long as you have a couple of dog biscuits in your pocket. Just bring a leash in case you need it.”

“Where am I supposed to walk her?”

“Anywhere you want, but don’t overdo it—she’s getting on in years.”

Dad bent down to give Tutu a quick pat, kissed the top of my head, then jogged up the stairs. “I’ll be up in the office if you need me, Agnes, but only if it’s an emergency. After seven, I’m all yours.”

This was one of the main differences between Mo and my dad. He believed children should have as little direction and supervision as possible to learn through experience and make their own decisions. Mo, on the other hand, believed that she was put on the earth to tell everyone what to do and how to do it.

Which was why as soon as I turned my phone on, I saw about a dozen texts from Mo. I scrolled quickly through the messages, sighing, until suddenly I saw Megan’s name. Without thinking, I clicked on her message: Is it true? You’re gone all summer??

Instead of feeling angry, now I felt guilty, as if I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t. I had to remind myself that it was Megan who had betrayed me, not the other way around.

I powered the phone off, vowing to check it as little as possible while I was here. When Viva and I were younger, Mo had a million rules to limit our screen time, so really, she should be pleased that I wasn’t answering all her texts right away.

After eating a bowl of cereal, I grabbed some dog biscuits and the leash. But Tutu was already curled up on her bed in the back hall, sound asleep. It looked like I would have to explore this new world all by myself.

When I’d arrived the night before, it had been so dark I could barely find my way from the car to the front porch. Now, outside in the daylight, I could see the house was painted buttery yellow with cream trim. An enormous tree with a double trunk shaded the front yard, and the green sports car was parked in front of an old red barn.

Not one car passed me as I strolled up the road along the river, hearing only the loud flow of water. In the distance I saw a little stone bridge. Something drew me toward it, so I walked down to see what was on the other side.

As I paused in the middle of the bridge and leaned over the railing, a faint rainbow appeared in the water between two rocks. If I moved my head too far one way or the other, it vanished, so I stared directly at it for as long as I could.

All at once, it occurred to me it didn’t matter if I stood there in that spot the whole day. I had all the time in the world with nothing I had to do, and no one who needed me or who would even look for me. At least not until dinnertime. And that’s how it would be for the entire summer.

When I really thought about that endless stream of time all alone, my heart began to pound. But then I glanced up the river and saw our beautiful yellow house through the tall leafy trees. I thought about Dad upstairs in the office and Tutu sleeping on her bed, and my worries faded.

It was already hot and the air was muggy. I found a scrunchie in my pocket and twisted my thick hair into a bun before I continued exploring. On the other side of the bridge I was surprised to discover I had entered a different town. A sign, partially hidden by bushes, read:

Welcome to

RENEW, VERMONT

Settled in 1782

Not far up the road on the left was a general store with a sign that said Birdie’s. Bundles of firewood were stacked along the front of the building. As I pushed open the door, a string of bells jangled on the other side.

“Hi there,” an older girl called from behind the counter.

The store seemed to be empty except for this girl. She looked about Viva’s age and had a round face, long dark hair parted down the middle, and thick-rimmed glasses.

“Looking for anything in particular?” she asked as she pushed her glasses against the top of her nose and blinked in a fluttery way.

“Not really,” I said. “I got here last night, so I’m just wandering around.”

She dropped forward onto her elbows, between the old-fashioned cash register and a basket of peppermint candies. “Got in from where?”

I hesitated. I had never met this girl before, and we didn’t know each other or any of the same people. Besides, the truth was too depressing to think about.

“Topeka,” I replied, which felt surprisingly good to say.

“Is that over in Maine? My whole family comes from—”

“No, it’s in Kansas.”

The girl straightened her back. “Wow, that’s far.”

I smiled, pleased with my choice.

“You don’t sound like you’re from somewhere like Kansas.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I wondered what someone from Kansas sounded like. “We move around and travel a lot,” I lied a little more, “so I don’t have an accent.”

“You’re lucky. I never get to go anywhere,” she said. “What’s your name?”

This time I didn’t hesitate, not for a second. “Chloe.”

She tilted her head. “That’s a cool name. You look like a Chloe.”

No one had ever said those words to me.

“My name’s Estelle. Isn’t that awful?”

I didn’t think Estelle was nearly as bad as Agnes, but I couldn’t tell her that. “It’s not awful.”

“No one calls me that anyway. I’ve always been Stella, which is a little better.”

She had one of those open smiles that immediately made me trust her without even knowing her.

“Do you want some cider donuts, Chloe?” asked Stella. “I made them myself. You can take some home.”

She moved down along the wooden counter and lifted the top of a glass jar.

“They look really good, but I didn’t bring any money.”

She selected a half-dozen sugary donuts with a pair of wooden tongs and carefully placed them into a white paper bag. “You can have them. Consider it a Welcome to Renew gift! We always end up with leftovers at the end of the day anyway. We used to take them home, but then we ate way too many for our own good,” she said and laughed.

I glanced around the store but didn’t see or hear anyone else. I wondered who she meant by we.

“Are you some kind of prima ballerina, Chloe?”

“A–sorry?” I stammered, confused.

She pointed at my head. “The bun? The black tank top. You’ve got the whole dancer vibe going on.”

I touched the back of my neck and smiled. “I’ve taken some ballet classes and jazz,” I fibbed—so easily! “But it’s been a while. I’ve been so busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Acting mostly.”

I couldn’t believe I’d said that. It was as if someone else was talking for me. Even my voice sounded different, more confident.

But Stella believed me. I could tell, because her mouth dropped open and her wide eyes doubled in size behind her thick glasses. “That’s incredible! Have I seen you in a movie or anything?”

I began to sweat a little. “I meant theater, that kind of acting.” Her face dropped in disappointment, so I added, “But I’ve been in a couple commercials.”

She smiled again. “Like what?”

“Nothing around here,” I replied quickly, “just local ads for clothes and stuff in Topeka. No big deal.”

A rush of pure excitement surged through my body. I couldn’t understand why making this stuff up felt so great.

“How long have you been acting?”

“Since I was around four, so about ten years ago.”

That made me fourteen years old, two years older than I was. I wasn’t sure Stella would buy it until she asked, “So you’re in high school?”

“Not yet,” I said less convincingly. “This fall.”

I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up with these questions. I tried to think of some way to direct the conversation away from me for a minute so that I could catch my breath. I glanced out the large picture window at the front of the store. Across the street was a farm stand, where a boy was unloading vegetables from a wheelbarrow. He looked about my age, but it was hard to tell from this distance.

“Do you know that kid?” I asked.

“Not really. He moved here last winter. He lives with Harriet Hooper, who owns the farm up the dirt road.”

I moved closer to the window. Something about the way the boy lifted the crates made him seem years older than he appeared. I turned back to Stella. “What grade is he in?”

“Who knows? He doesn’t go to the local school. He’s been inside the store only a couple of times, but I can’t get him to talk. I offered him free donuts too, but he turned away and said nothing. Not a thank you or even just a no. It’s like he’s lost his voice.”

The way she said it sent a chill up my spine.

“Can’t really blame him though,” Stella continued. “I suspect he’s an orphan.”

“You mean—his parents are dead?”

She nodded and frowned. “That’s what I heard. According to Harriet, he’s some relative who’s come to visit for a while. But she always changes the subject as soon as anyone asks more.” She shrugged. “But I figure whatever happened to him has to be terrible if he can’t even talk.”

All of a sudden, my problems seemed so small compared to that kid’s life. Maybe my family was a mess, but at least everyone was still alive. I watched him through the window as he continued to organize the farm stand. He wore a plain shirt and jeans, and his red hair made his skin appear extra pale.

The boy seemed to be done with what he was doing. He took a step back and one last look at the stand. That’s when I noticed the words Fly Back Farm painted in sky blue letters above the little roof.

He tossed a few crates in the wheelbarrow, then turned around and stared at the general store like he was looking directly at me. After a couple of seconds, he turned away and pushed the wheelbarrow down the dirt road. I leaned against the window and watched him until he disappeared around the bend.