Rattled (5 page)

“Yeah.”

I found it odd he had no further comment. “Oh.”
So
much for my witty repartee.
“She told you about my great idea? About going downtown and spending the day on the waterfront? There's loads of stuff to do and see. The museum, the
Bluenose
, great shops, places to eat.” I realized I was gushing, that I was trying too hard to sell it. “You could help me plan the itinerary, over cookies,” I added, holding out the paper towel. I took a step forward, more of a
mis
-step really, forgetting I was standing on the curb. I lost my balance, my dignity, and my chocolate chip cookies.

I jumped up quickly. Maybe by some miracle he hadn't noticed. There was always the hope he suffered from temporary blindness. “I'm okay!” I announced loudly, then winced in pain.

Sam rushed to my side. “Here, just sit down for a second.” Holding my elbow, he guided me down onto the grass.

Even though this wasn't quite how I'd pictured it playing out, it wasn't so bad. There was that fluttery feeling again and I leaned on him a little extra. “I'm fine, really, it's nothing.” I still felt like a total loser. Like how much of a spaz must I be to fall off the curb? Off the curb! The fact that he smelled really good somehow made the whole thing a bit more bearable.

He sat down beside me on the grass while I rubbed and rotated my ankle.

“So you want us to go on some massive adventure, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it would be totally awesome, I know you'd love it.”

“Well…I'm not sure if Mom…”

“Argh! That's what Megan said. Does your mother really hate me that much?”

He looked surprised, fake surprised. “No, she thinks you're great.” He would never have to worry about winning an Oscar.

I almost laughed in his face. It was a combination of what he said and the unconvincing way he said it. But I didn't. It might embarrass him, wouldn't want to do that.

“If you say so,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, I think she's still tired from the move. She's really not a people person.”

You don't say.

“It's almost like…” He scrunched up his nose just like Megan.

“Let me guess,” I interrupted. “Like she has a
thing
about letting you do stuff with people she doesn't know.”

He frowned. “Yeah.”

“Megan told me the same thing,” I explained.
The exact
same thing, almost like they rehearsed it.

“Well…that's how it is.”

“Guess I'll just go out of my way to get to know her, so she'll feel comfortable around me.” I didn't really mean it. I just wanted to see what he'd say.

“You don't have to do anything like that. I told you, she thinks you're great,” he said, without looking me in the eye.

“No really, I can be
ultra
charming when I want to be.” I batted my eyelashes for special effect.

He forced a smile. “It just takes her a while to warm up to people.”

“
Riiiight
.” My eyebrows were raised so high my face hurt.

“Look, I'll let you know what I can arrange for that trip downtown. I'll talk to Mom, okay?” He stood and reached out his hand to help me up. I sensed he wanted to end the conversation.

“Thanks,” I said, testing my ankle.

“Need some help getting home?”

“No, I'm go—” I cut myself off. What was I thinking? “Actually, I probably shouldn't put too much weight on it right away.”

He put his arm around my waist and pulled me snug against his side. With my arm draped over his shoulder, I whimpered periodically as he helped me hobble home. Maybe the Oscar was in
my
future.

“Okay then, later,” he said.

“Yeah, later. And thanks.” Once inside, I leaned my back against the door and just enjoyed the moment. But then my mind drifted to the events prior to my tumble. I was puzzled, no, more like intrigued. I thought about everything Megan and Sam had said. I wondered how many times they'd had to give that same explanation, to how many people. Mostly, I wondered if they believed it.

You think your family's so weird until you observe someone else's. And that's exactly what I was going to do. Somehow I was going to find out what was going on over there.

Chapter 6

M
egan and I were sitting on her front step, a jar of peanut butter between my feet, a box of Ritz crackers between Megan's.

“You're not doing it right,” I said. “You have to have at least five in your stack.” I demonstrated my building process then showed her how I could still easily fit my mouth around it.

She looked at me doubtfully, brushing away some of my cracker debris that landed on her arm. “I think I'll just do two.”

“Well
that's
not very exciting,” I joked.

I was sharing my breakfast with Megan. I had noticed her sitting on the porch with Peter, the cat. Violin music was coming from the house so I knew Sam was practicing. The van wasn't in the driveway. She looked sort of lonely so I had made my way across the street, bringing my feast with me.

“Oh. How's the job going?” Megan asked, nibbling delicately on a cracker.

My mouth was jammed full so I had to finish chewing first. “You know, it's actually okay. Dad doesn't treat me like his little girl and everyone in the office is really nice. So yeah. Better than I thought.”

I shook the box. There were only a few crackers left. I held the box out to Megan.

She put up her hands in protest and shook her head.

“When's your mom back?” I asked, rolling the bag down inside the cracker box.

“I don't know. I think she's scoping out spots for photos.”

“Come over and hang out then,” I said excitedly.

“Can't. Mom doesn't like us to go anywhere when she's not home, and we're not allowed any visitors.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh…okay.” I tried to make my voice sound as though I didn't think that was totally weird.

We sat quietly, both still flicking away stray shards of cracker.

There was an odd sound I couldn't place.

Megan glanced back behind her. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

I turned to see what was up. Sam was standing in the doorway with his mouth pressed up against the screen door, blowing out his cheeks, making fish faces. I rolled my eyes too and turned back around, pretending to ignore him. Of course, I really wanted him to join us. I wished I hadn't chowed down so enthusiastically on those crackers—I could have offered him some. I heard one last puff, then footsteps walking away.
That's what I get for being a little piggy.

“He can be so…immature,” Megan said, but she was smiling.

I grinned at her word choice.
Immature
. It was as if she couldn't come up with anything nastier than that to say about her brother. Now if that had been Jilly, I wouldn't have been able to get the word
moron
out of my mouth fast enough.

They were definitely close, way closer than me and Jilly. I had picked up on that the very first time I met them. They seemed to genuinely like each other, and they
never
fought. God, they probably even cared about each other's feelings. I concentrated hard on that for a second, trying to imagine what that must be like. I couldn't quite get there.

“He's my best friend, you know,” Megan said quietly, as if she had been reading my thoughts.

I couldn't think how to respond so I just fiddled with my earring and nodded.

“That probably sounds strange to you,” she continued.

“No,” I lied. It did sound strange, but I sort of understood. They moved so much, spent so much time together, they were pretty much all each other had. “He's awfully nice to you, for a brother,” I added.

“He really is,” she nodded.

“I always wanted an older brother,” I sighed.

We were soon distracted by a new noise, this time coming from the front of my house. I watched as Dad used the garden hose to fill a bucket. He held out a sponge to Jilly. He was trying to get her to wash the car.
Good luck with that
. Jilly stood there, arms folded, major frown on. The only thing missing was the defiant foot stomp.
Wait for it…and there it is.

I turned to Megan. “Did I mention how I always wanted an older brother?”

She laughed and we entertained ourselves for the next little while watching Jilly attempt to wash the car. She kept her body as far away from the car as possible, leaning in and basically patting the car with the soapy sponge as though she was terrified of breaking a nail or something. Dad sat on our stone wall just shaking his head.

Now I was kind of relieved that Sam wasn't with us. Had Jilly seen him, she probably would have dumped the bucket over herself, going for the wet T-shirt effect.

“Okay, Jilly, thanks for your…er…help. You can go now,” I heard Dad announce. I guess he couldn't take it anymore.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Jilly squealed as she dropped the sponge and ran.

“Can you believe that?” I said to Megan. “I mean, why does he let her get away with crap like that?”

“That's what dads do,” she said wistfully.

I shrugged.

“You're so lucky. Your dad seems awesome. I can just tell.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “You know how they say you can't miss something you never had?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't think that's true about everything, at least about a dad.” There was a sadness in her voice that I could actually feel.

From what Megan had just said, I concluded she didn't see her dad much…or maybe ever. “How often do you see yours?” I asked.

“Never.”

I swallowed. “Never? Is he…alive?”

“I don't know for sure.”

“You don't know? How can you not know?” As soon as the words were out I regretted them. They came across harsher than I meant. Plus, I didn't want her to think I was being nosey. But she had never talked about her dad before, and I wanted to take advantage of the moment.

“I've never seen him. Not even a picture.” She was in a kind of trance, staring off at something far away.

I hesitated, but only for a second. “You mean you don't know anything about him? Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“But why?” I was now beyond nosey.

She turned and looked at me. Her eyes were teary. “She won't tell us anything, she won't even let us ask.” Her voice became more intense. “I don't even know his name.”

Trying to imagine how she felt was impossible—not to know your own dad, anything about him, if he was even alive. I sat quietly trying to think of something helpful to say, something to make her feel better.

At the same time, I listened to Dad yelp out a string of obscenities after he put his foot in the bucket of soapy water. He wasn't what I'd call graceful, but at least he was all mine.

I heard her sniff beside me. I felt bad that she was upset and wished I'd shut my mouth and hadn't kept asking her questions.

“Dad's dropping me and Jilly at the mall later,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Wanna come with us?”

“Um…well, my mom's not back yet so…”

“We're not going till after lunch. She might be back by then.”

“I don't think she'll let me.” She didn't bother making an excuse.

I sighed. “Well, don't forget to ask about going to the waterfront. She
can't
not let you do that, it practically borders on educational.”

“Maybe.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead like she was in pain.

“You okay? I'm sorry if I was being pushy.” I decided I'd harassed her enough for one day.

“No, you're not being pushy,” she assured me. “I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping much. My mom—” She stopped.

“Yeah…your mom…?” For some reason I felt it was very important that she finish that sentence. I noticed she was sliding her ring up and down her finger again. I had seen her do that before, mostly when she seemed nervous.

She took a deep breath. “My mom says it's just because I'm not used to the new house yet.”

“Right, of course,” I nodded, knowing that wasn't what she had been going to say at all.

Standing up, I brushed off more crumbs and gathered up my cracker box and peanut butter. “I should really go help Dad. He's still struggling over there.”

“Thanks for sharing your breakfast.” She smiled up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun. She seemed to be herself again.

“Thanks for the company.” I smiled back.