The Brightest Stars of Summer (17 page)

T
he rain had stopped by the time Zinnie and Marigold finished tying bows on all the baskets. They had tied the thinner ribbons around the jars they were using as vases on the tables. The living room was a mess, but the wedding decorations were almost done. Marigold had even had time to get started on her project for Pilar. Aunt Sunny had given her permission to use some funky 1970s fabric she'd found in the attic. Marigold cut the pattern and was ready to start sewing as soon as Aunt Sunny showed her how.

When they set out toward town to pick up Lily from camp, the sky was white with cloud cover, but Zinnie could feel the sun pushing through. It was one of those days Mom had said she could get sunburned even though it wasn't sunny. And that gave Zinnie an idea.

“I need to stop in the general store for sunblock,” Zinnie said once they hit Harbor Road.

“We don't have time,” Marigold said. “Camp gets out at three o'clock and Aunt Sunny said that we can't be late picking Lily up. Besides, it's so cloudy today.”

“Mom always says that's when I get sunburned the worst because I'm not prepared. And I'm running low.”

“Fine,” Marigold said. “I'll see you back at Aunt Sunny's.”

“See ya,” Zinnie said. Once Marigold was at a safe distance, Zinnie sprinted to the yacht club to find Peter and invite him back to the house for some of Aunt Sunny's delicious peanut butter cookies, which Peter had said himself he couldn't resist.

The streets were slick from the rain, but Zinnie made swift progress as she leaped over puddles. The guy with the clipboard who checked who came in and out of the club appeared to be sleeping at his post, probably because there was hardly anyone here. As she jogged across the lawn, it occurred to her that maybe the sailing team's practice had been canceled because it had been raining earlier. She would check and see. If Peter wasn't at practice, then he was probably helping his dad, the club manager, in the dining room.

Once Zinnie got there, it was clear that sailing practice was still happening. She could see the racing boats with the colorful sails out in the harbor. She
walked out to the end of the dock. She was trying to guess how far away they were and whether or not she should just leave a message with Mack, Peter's dad, when she noticed a small boy in the water directly in front of her. He looked about Lily's age. At first she thought he was swimming, but it was strange for a little kid to be swimming here at all, especially without a grown-up by his side. When she saw him flailing, Zinnie knew he was in trouble.

Unlike last summer, when Lily had been carried away by the current and Zinnie and Marigold hadn't known what to do, this year Zinnie was prepared. Her water safety knowledge kicked in immediately. The first thing she needed to do was call for help.

“Help,” Zinnie yelled. “Help!”

She hoped that someone heard her, but there was no time to check, as the little boy was now only briefly coming up for air. She had to act fast.
Stay calm,
she told herself, even though her heart was beating rapidly. Their safety instructor had told the class that remaining calm is the most important thing of all. A panicked person isn't nearly as useful as a calm one.
Tell the victim you are there,
she heard the instructor say in her head.

“I'm here to help you!” Zinnie called to the boy. He flapped his arms and gasped for air. This was a good sign. She knew that she should only get into the water to save him if there was no other way to reach him,
so she checked the area for a rescuing tool. While the dock was too far from the water to perform a reaching assist with her arm or a pole, there was a life ring nearby. Zinnie took a deep breath, lifted the life ring, which was attached to the dock with a rope, and threw it to the boy.

“Grab this!” Zinnie said. The boy thrashed, but there was no way he could reach it. Zinnie had thrown it too far out. She jerked the ring closer to the boy so that it was within arm's length. “You can do it!” Zinnie called as the boy reached. “Keep trying! Keep trying!” On the third try, the little boy's arm landed on the life ring. Zinnie shouted, “Good job! Now hold on tight!” The little boy was crying but following her instructions. Zinnie reminded herself that crying was a good thing. It meant he was breathing and conscious. “I'm going to pull you slowly toward the ladder,” Zinnie said. “All you need to do is hold on.” She pulled the ring closer to the dock with steady, sure hands. She almost had him to the ladder when a man called out, “Cameron!” and jumped into the water.

“Oh, thank goodness!” the man said as he resurfaced. He grabbed the ladder with one hand and pulled the boy into his arms with the other. “Cameron! I thought you were in the boat.”

“Uncle Phil!” the boy shrieked, his little hands gripping his uncle's neck. The man climbed the ladder with the boy over his shoulder. They were both crying.
Zinnie couldn't help it—she started crying, too.

“I'll call 911,” Zinnie said, removing her phone from her pocket with shaking hands.

“It sounds like someone already did,” the man said, as a siren sounded nearby. He cradled the crying boy in his arms. “But I think he's going to be just fine.”

“I'll call again just to be sure,” Zinnie said, trying to catch her runaway breath, but by then the ambulance had arrived on the yacht club lawn.

“He's all right because of you,” the man said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You saved my nephew's life. You're our hero. Today and always.” Zinnie nodded, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. “I can never thank you enough,” the man said. “Is there anything you would like? Anything at all?”

“I love ice cream,” Zinnie said through her tears.

“I think we can do that,” the man said, and as he smiled, Zinnie realized that he was familiar, even without his glasses and with his hair sopping wet. She knew him somehow. “How about a lifetime of ice cream?”

As the team of paramedics came down the dock, and the man pulled her into a wet embrace, Zinnie realized who he was. It was Philip Rathbone. She had saved his nephew.

“N
ow, this might hurt a little, so let's count to three and take a deep breath,” Marigold said, holding Lily's finger in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other.

Lily nodded bravely, but Marigold could tell that she was scared. Lily had managed to get a splinter between the time Marigold had picked her up from camp and their getting back to to Aunt Sunny's. It had probably happened when she'd run her hand along the twisted wooden fence on Pleasant Street, even though Lily must not have noticed it at the time. Now, however, her finger was red and tender where the splinter had lodged. And Marigold noticed that Lily's fingernails were filthy. She was going to have to give her a good scrubbing tonight in the tub.

“One, two—” Marigold started.

“Ouch!” Lily cried.

“Lily, I haven't even touched it yet,” Marigold said.

“It hurts just thinking about it!” Lily said, and burst into tears.

“Okay, calm down,” Marigold said, wondering where Zinnie was. She'd gone to the general store to get sunscreen while Marigold had picked up Lily at camp, but she should've been back by now. The general store was pretty close to Aunt Sunny's, and Marigold and Lily had taken the long way home so that Lily could say hello to the horses that lived on Pleasant Street. She could really use Zinnie's help right now. Zinnie was always able to come up with a funny story or joke on the spot to distract Lily.

“Let's count together,” Marigold said as Lily struggled away from her. “Come on, now. We can't leave that splinter in or it could get infected. One, two—”

The screen door slammed and Zinnie walked in with a wild look in her eyes.

“Just in time,” Marigold said. “Lily has a splinter. Will you tell her one of your crazy stories while I take it out?”

“I just saved someone's life,” Zinnie said, sitting down at the table.

“Oh, really?” Marigold asked dramatically as she aimed the tweezers at Lily's finger. Marigold hoped Zinnie would make this a very entertaining story so that Lily would barely even feel the splinter being
removed. “Tell us all about it.”

“Yeah, what happened?” Lily asked.

“I was at the yacht club and I saw this little boy in the water—” Zinnie started.

“How old was this boy?” Marigold asked, tilting Lily's hand so that her finger was in the best light.

“Five, I think,” Zinnie said. “Maybe six.”

“My age,” Lily said.

“Yeah, and he was drowning,” Zinnie said, getting choked up. Marigold was impressed by her tears. Even the most professional actors had difficulty crying on the spot.

“Drowning?” Lily asked, her eyes wide. This was the time to do it! Marigold took a deep breath and, with precision and speed, gripped Lily's finger and tweezed out that splinter.

“Ow!” Lily howled. “You said we would count.”

“Yeah, but I got it,” Marigold said, showing Lily the splinter in the tweezers. She kissed Lily's finger. “It's all over. Lily, you were so brave. Good story, Zinnie.”

“I'm not making this up,” Zinnie said. “I was at the yacht club and I saw a little boy drowning and I . . . I saved him.”

Marigold knew that Zinnie liked to pretend that she was a stowaway or a castaway. And she threw herself into those games, imagining a cardboard box to be a hidden compartment aboard the
Queen Mary
,
or a soccer ball to be the last remaining coconut on a desert island. But this was different. Zinnie's hands were shaking on the table. Marigold put her arms around her.

“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” Marigold asked.

“I was really scared,” Zinnie said. Marigold felt Zinnie's tears on her shoulder and held her even tighter. Lily squeezed herself between her sisters to give Zinnie a hug, too. “His lips were blue.”

Marigold tried to think of what their mom would say. “You must've been terrified, but you did such a good job. Remember what Mom always says? Courage is when you're scared but you take action anyway. That's you. So courageous!”

“It was weird,” Zinnie said as Marigold plucked a tissue from the box on the windowsill and handed it to her. “I got really calm and I just knew what to do. I threw him a life ring, like we learned in class—”

Aunt Sunny rushed into the kitchen, her face alive with energy and concern. She dropped her tote bag on the floor and embraced the pile of sisters. “Zinnia, I heard about your astounding act of bravery from Jean. How are you feeling?”

“A little freaked out, and also kind of tired,” Zinnie said, dabbing her eyes with the tissue.

“I'm so proud of her,” Marigold said.

“We both are,” Lily said.

“Add me to that list!” Aunt Sunny said, looking closely at Zinnie's arms and legs to make sure she was okay.

“And hungry,” Zinnie added. “I'm very, very hungry. Marigold, can you make me a peanut butter and jelly, but not too much jelly, okay? Just the way Mom makes it.”

“Sure.” Marigold said. As she grabbed the peanut butter and bread from the pantry, she realized that her sisters needed her. It felt good to be needed. It felt important. It turned out her parents had been right when they'd told her that there was more to life than Hollywood, she thought as she placed the sandwich ingredients on the counter and took a clean plate from the cupboard.

“How did Jean know? No one was there but me and the boy and . . . the man,” Zinnie said.

“What man?” Marigold asked, spreading peanut butter on the bread.

“The boy's uncle,” Zinnie said.

“Mack saw the whole thing happen,” Aunt Sunny said. “He's the one who called the paramedics. He said you were extraordinary. The very picture of grace under pressure.” The landline phone rang in the living room. It was such an old-fashioned sound, it always startled Marigold. “I'd better get that.”

“Wait. Why were you at the yacht club?” Marigold
asked, pausing for a moment as she held the knife over the sandwich. “I thought you were getting sunscreen.”

“I just . . . had to . . . ask Peter something,” Zinnie said.

“What?” Marigold asked, cutting the sandwich and handing it to Zinnie. “What did you need to ask him?”

“Um, well . . . ,” Zinnie started, but before she could answer, Aunt Sunny returned to the kitchen in a flurry.

“My goodness,” Aunt Sunny said. “That's Channel Five. They want to do a television interview with Zinnie for the local news tonight. Should I tell them that you're too tired and not up to it?”

“Me? On TV?” Zinnie asked, the pink returning to her cheeks. “I'm up to it!”

“Okay,” Aunt Sunny said. “But only after you rest and have something to eat.”

“I'm gonna be on TV!” Zinnie said, with her mouth full of sandwich.

“My sister's a hero!” Lily shouted, jumping around. “I'd give you flowers from my collection, but I can't touch them for a whole month or they'll be ruined.”

“That's okay, Lily,” Zinnie said. “Thank you for offering.”

“Now I have six kinds of flowers—impatiens, forget-me-nots, delphiniums, petunias, Queen Anne's lace, and larkspur.”

“I'll pick out your outfit,” Marigold said. “And we're going to have to do something with your hair. After you finish your snack, I want you to take a shower. But don't touch your hair. I'll do it. And I'm sure Mom won't mind if I put just a little makeup on you.”

“Thanks!” Zinnie said, devouring what was left of her snack.

“This is so fun!” Lily said. “I always thought
you
were going to be the famous one, Marigold. Because you're so glamorous and you were supposed to be in that movie. But Zinnie is the one who's going to be famous! Zinnie is the star!”

“Uh-huh,” Marigold said as she washed the knife she'd used to spread the peanut butter. She knew that Lily didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but as the hot water ran over her hands, she had to hold her breath to keep from crying. Because even though she was happy for Zinnie, even though she was as proud of her as she ever had been, even though it felt good to take care of her sisters just as well as her mom would, Lily's innocent words had pierced her like an arrow.