The Brightest Stars of Summer (23 page)

Z
innie lifted up the screen, hoping the destruction wasn't as bad as she feared. Perhaps only one side of the cake was damaged and they could face that side away from the guests? But no. The top tier was on the floor. The middle tier was squished, and one whole side of the bottom tier was flattened. Worst of all, the glass bird was smashed to shards. The three sisters sat without speaking, taking in the wreckage. There was a terrible silence.

“Oh no,” Lily finally said. “Oh. No.”

“Why didn't you tell me you'd saved Mr. Rathbone's nephew?” Marigold asked, picking up the pieces of the broken bird.

“I didn't want to upset you,” Zinnie said. “You were so mad about the movie. But then I saw him last night at the beach—”

“Last night?” Marigold asked.

Zinnie nodded. “He was walking his dog in the dunes. And he told me he would grant me a wish,” she said. “Anything I wanted. Like a genie.”

“Oh,” Marigold said quietly. “I guess that explains it.”

“I didn't betray you,” Zinnie said. Marigold raised an eyebow. “I mean, it was just the story.”

“Excuse me—what are we going to do about the cake?” Lily asked, pulling on her curls. “The cake! The cake! Aunt Sunny's cake!”

“I don't know,” Zinnie said. It was too horrible to think about. “I don't know.”

They heard the screen door slam.

“Girls?” Mom called.

They locked eyes.

“Uh-oh,” Lily whispered, clutching the bathrobe. “We can't let her see.”

“Where are you?” Mom asked, her footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“In here,” Zinnie said.

Lily shushed her. “No, we have to try to fix it first.”

“There's no fixing this,” Zinnie said. This cake could not be made whole again. The bird that had belonged to their grandmother could not be glued back together. Diaries could not be unread. Words could not be unspoken.

“Zinnie's right,” Marigold said. “We have to face this.”

“We might as well do it together,” Zinnie said, stepping between her sisters and taking each one's hand.

Mom opened the door and put her hands over her mouth. Zinnie had never seen her turn this particular shade of white.

The Silver family gathered in the kitchen in the wake of the great cake disaster. Zinnie sat with the bluebird's beak, the one part of the glass sculpture that remained intact, in her hand. They sat at the kitchen table, Mom and Marigold on one side and Zinnie and Dad on the other. Lily, who had changed out of Aunt Sunny's robe, was cuddled on Dad's lap.

Mom and Dad hadn't used angry voices or a single time-out. There had been no need to discipline the sisters. They felt so awful, looked so distraught, and had cried two oceans (the Atlantic and the Pacific) of tears between them, that it was clear they were punishing themselves enough.

“You two need to talk,” Mom said, looking at Zinnie and Marigold.

“Who's going first?” Dad asked.

“I will,” Zinnie said. “You hurt my feelings, Marigold. The things you wrote about me were mean and thoughtless. Do you really think I'm such a spaz that I'll never have a boyfriend?”

“No, of course not,” Marigold said. “A diary is a place to write things that you don't think anyone will read. Sometimes people write things they don't mean or would never say aloud. I didn't mean it. It was just something I thought for a second. Does that make sense?” She sighed and added ruefully, “I honestly don't know anything about boyfriends.”

“Why did you say you'd dance with Max?” Zinnie asked. “Why did he kiss your hand?”

“It was just as friends,” Marigold said. “He kissed my hand in this silly way, like a knight. You know how Max is. He was being ridiculous.” Zinnie did know Max. He was ridiculous. That's what she liked about him. Marigold leaned on the table and looked Zinnie in the eye. “People like you, Zinnie. Everyone likes you. I know that will mean boyfriends will, too.” These words felt so true. “Do you think I'm as stuck up as Marianna?” Marigold asked.

“No,” Zinnie said. “Especially not after what you've been through this summer.” Marigold nodded. “I'm finalist for the Writers' Workshop,” Zinnie continued. “I got an email from Mrs. Lee today.”

“I knew you could do it,” Mom said.

“But I'm going to write to Mrs. Lee and tell her my submission isn't valid. I'm going to withdraw it,” Zinnie said.

“That's a very nice thing to do,” Dad said. “I'm
impressed by your integrity. But are you sure? I know that means the world to you.”

“I'm sure,” Zinnie said. “It's the right thing to do.”

“You still wrote that story, Zinnie,” Mom said. “I really want you to think about this.”

“You don't have to do that,” Marigold said.

“I don't?” Zinnie asked.

“I don't want to take your dream away from you. That happened to me, and it was the worst.”

“Thank you,” Zinnie said. “That means a lot.”

“And I'm sorry for snooping on your laptop. I shouldn't have done that,” Marigold said.

“I forgive you,” Zinnie said. “Let's both promise not to snoop anymore. Deal?”

“Deal,” Marigold said. She walked over to Zinnie and they embraced.

“Okay!” Lily said. “Now that you guys made up, let's fix the cake!”

“I don't know if that's possible, sweetie,” Dad said. “That cake is in bad shape.”

“I know making up was hard,” Mom said. “But the hardest part is still ahead of you. You're going to have to tell Aunt Sunny.”

“She's going to be back any minute,” Marigold said.

“Ruining the cake was awful. But ruining Grammy's bird . . . ,” Zinnie said, shaking her head. “That's going to break her heart.”

“I wish we didn't have to tell her,” Lily said. “Can we at least try to fix the cake?”

Marigold and Zinnie went to the office and wheeled out what was left of the cake.

“M
arigold, are you saving the cake? Can it still be our present to Aunt Sunny? Even without the bird?” Lily asked.

Marigold and Zinnie were using the extra frosting to try to salvage the bottom tier.

“We're just making it worse,” Marigold said, stepping back from the cake.

“I think you're right,” Mom said, placing a hand on Marigold's shoulder.

“We have to think of another present,” Marigold said.

“You don't have a lot of time,” Dad said.

“We still have four hours before the wedding starts,” Zinnie said. “Four whole hours!” She was determined to make it up to Aunt Sunny—somehow.

“But you guys haven't even taken your showers yet,”
Lily said. “I've washed, rinsed, and conditioned my hair.”

“I can take a thirty-second shower,” Zinnie said. “I've done it before. Once I even took a twenty-second shower.”

“I can take a thirty-second shower, too,” Marigold said. The whole family gave her a look. “Fine. Sixty seconds. One hundred and twenty seconds tops.”

“That would still leave us three hours and fifty-seven minutes or something to figure out a new present,” Zinnie said.

“I don't know, girls,” Mom said. “I wouldn't be too worried about another present right now. I think you should apologize from the heart and then promise to be your best selves for the rest of the day.”

“Mom's right,” Marigold said. “We don't need any more shenanigans. There's still some tables that need to be decorated and some odds and ends to be taken care of.”

“I know, but—” Zinnie started, but was silenced by the sound of the door opening. Aunt Sunny was home. Zinnie clutched her stomach, which ached with anxiety. Marigold bit her lip and looked at the floor. Lily buried her head in Dad's shoulder.

“It's time,” Dad said, peeling Lily off of him. “You girls know what you need to do.”

“What are we going to say?” Zinnie whispered. “How are we going to explain?”

“The simple truth is the best explanation,” Mom said.

“I'm back,” Aunt Sunny called from the living room. Mom nodded at the girls and they stood up, together, in front of the cake. “I barely recognize myself, but I have to admit my toes have never looked—” She stopped midsentence as she walked into the kitchen and saw the line of somber-looking sisters. “Heavens. Why the long faces?”

“We're sorry,” Zinnie said.

“We're so sorry,” Marigold said.

“We've never been so sorry in our lives,” Lily said.

“What's happened?” Aunt Sunny asked.

The girls parted like curtains, revealing the damaged cake.

“We were fighting, and we lost our balance, and then we just—”

“We ruined it,” Lily said, bursting into tears.

“We're so, so sorry,” Marigold said.

“Oh. Oh my,” Aunt Sunny said, placing a hand on her heart. The pink nail polish, as subtle as it was, made Aunt Sunny's hands look foreign. Even though her hands looked elegant, Zinnie preferred them without the polish and with some soil beneath the nails from working in the garden. Zinnie's eyes traveled from her aunt's hands to her face. Aunt Sunny's voice was soft and laced with hurt as she said, “It's only cake. It was my mother who always said, ‘Don't cry
over something that can't cry over you.'”

“But it's your wedding cake,” Zinnie said.

“And our present to you,” Marigold added.

“The real gift was not the cake, but rather making the cake with me,” Aunt Sunny said quietly. “I will always have that.”

“And Grammy's bird,” Zinnie said, holding up the piece with the beak. “We broke that, too.”

“Oh dear.” Aunt Sunny covered her mouth.

“We're so sorry,” Marigold said. “It was my fault.”

“No, it was mine,” Zinnie said. “I should have told you about Mr. Rathbone.”

“It was my fault,” Lily said. “I'm the one who pushed you two apart.”

“It doesn't matter whose fault it was,” Zinnie said, turning back to Aunt Sunny. “The point is that we're sorry.”

Zinnie saw the sadness in her aunt's eyes just before she closed them and said in a quavering voice, “Excuse me. I need a moment.” Zinnie's heart constricted as she watched Aunt Sunny walk toward her bedroom. Marigold squeezed Zinnie's hand.

“Is Aunt Sunny crying?” Lily asked.

“I think so, honey,” Mom said.

“On her wedding day,” Marigold said in a shaky voice.

“Because of us,” Zinnie said, hanging her head.

“I'm going to check on her,” Mom said.

“I'm going to set the tables outside,” Dad said. “I trust you girls will help me as soon as you're ready. For now, Marigold, why don't you give me your checklist?”

Marigold handed over her checklist and Zinnie placed an arm around each sister, drawing them more tightly together.

“Z
innie, get your notebook and follow us,” Marigold said, taking Lily by the hand and heading toward the stairs. “We need to come up with a plan.”

“Okay,” Zinnie said, darting into the office for her plan-making supplies before following her sisters up to the attic bedroom.

Once the three of them were inside and seated on her bed, Marigold advised them to take deep breaths—a focusing technique she had learned in her acting class. “In, two, three . . . and out, two, three . . . ,” she said, guiding them through the exercise ten times.

“Okay,” she said, once she felt that she and her sisters were calm enough to think straight. “We have three and a half hours before the ceremony starts. How are we going to make this up to Aunt Sunny? Zinnie, let's make a list.”

“We need a new cake,” Lily said.

“Cake,” Marigold said, pointing to Zinnie's notebook. Zinnie dutifully wrote the word.

“But think of how long it took us to make that cake. Where are we going to find a wedding cake in three hours?” Zinnie said. “Besides, I have to practice the sonnet again. I messed it up at the rehearsal.”

“I'll read the sonnet,” Marigold said, realizing as she spoke the words that not only would she do it, she wanted to more than anything in the world. She had so many feelings inside her—sadness, regret, despair, and great love for Aunt Sunny. Her soul seemed to be shaking from all the emotion inside of her. She wanted to do something with those feelings besides making checklists and decorating tables. She wanted to do what she did best. She longed to spin those feelings into words and breathe them out into the world. She longed to
act
.

“Phew,” Zinnie said. “You'll be so much better at that than me.”

“Isn't that what Aunt Sunny wanted as a present from you anyway?” Lily asked.

“Yes,” Marigold said, remembering when Aunt Sunny had asked her to read the sonnet and she had said no. She felt a stitch in her side. How could she have refused? How could she have put her desire to be “ordinary” in front of Aunt Sunny's wedding wish?
Sure, she was embarrassed about being cut from the movie. But as Peter had said, there were many things in life worse than being embarrassed—like hurting Aunt Sunny's feelings.

“And she asked Zinnie to write something,” Lily said, turning to Zinnie.

“Oh, yeah,” Zinnie said. Marigold could see that Zinnie's mind was already working. “Of course I can write something.”

“But, Zinnie, you have to promise me it won't have anything embarrassing in it,” Marigold said.

“I promise,” Zinnie said.

“What about the cake?” Lily said. “We need a cake!”

“I wish time travel were real,” Zinnie said. “I wish we could go back and stop that cake from falling. I wish, I wish, I wish.”

Something about the word “wish” seemed to be sticking in Marigold's mind, accumulating energy as Zinnie repeated it. And then she remembered something in her pocket. She reached in and pulled out Mr. Rathbone's card. Zinnie smiled, her eyes lighting up.

“He said he'd grant any wish, right?” Marigold said.

“Like a genie,” Zinnie said. “But is it possible? In three and a half hours? We spent days on that cake.”

“We won't actually eat the cake until at least eight o'clock tonight,” Marigold said.

“You're right,” Zinnie said.

“He said he was going to be at the Village Café for the next few hours,” Marigold said. “If you run, you still might be able to catch him. In the meantime, I'm going to finish helping Dad with the tables.”

“What about me?” Lily asked. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You're going to help Mom with the bouquets,” Zinnie said.

“The bird!” Zinnie said as she tied on her sneakers. “We need a bluebird.”

“I don't think we can glue Grammy's one together again,” Marigold said.

“Maybe I can find a way to bring her sisters into my speech somehow?” Zinnie wondered aloud.

“Brilliant,” Marigold said.

“I have an idea,” Lily said. “I'm going to tell a real bluebird to come to the wedding. Bluebirds are a pretty common species, though there aren't as many as there used to be. We learned about them in camp. I bet I can find one.”

“That's great,” Marigold said, and patted Lily on the head. She wanted Lily to be a part of this, but there just wasn't any time to go looking for birds.

“Okay, so we all have our jobs. I'm going to rehearse the sonnet, finish the tables, and take a thirty-second shower. Zinnie, you're going to ask Mr. Rathbone to get
us a cake and you're going to write something for the ceremony and take a thirty-second shower. And Lily, you're going to help Mom with the bouquets and—”

“Find a bluebird!” Lily said.