The Brightest Stars of Summer (8 page)

“Zinnie! It's just . . . It's what I'm doing. Okay?”

“Fine,” Zinnie said, digging her toes into the warm sand. “Whatever.” She was so happy about finding the dog tags and meeting Max that Marigold's annoyance evaporated off her skin as quickly as the droplets of water in the midday summer sun.

“Did something happen to you?” Marigold asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

“What do you mean?” Zinnie asked, piling sand on her feet to fully bury them.

“You've got this big smile on your face,” Marigold said. “Like you just ate Aunt Sunny's brownies or something. Did you eat both the brownies while I was swimming?”

“No,” Zinnie said. “The thing is—”

She was about to tell Marigold about Max, but something inside her made her stop. Right now, what had happened belonged completely to her. She had found a treasure and met a boy with a smile like a superpower, and he had called her his hero. It was a perfect moment that was somehow still taking shape. She felt that if she spoke about it too soon, it would seem less wonderful.

Sometimes Marigold had a way of acting as if
things that felt like a big deal to Zinnie were really no big deal, and implying that Zinnie would see this if only she were a little older and a little cooler. Zinnie didn't want Marigold to do that about Max, so she decided to hold her happiness inside and let it ripen like a peach.

“Well?” Marigold asked. “What's the thing?”

“Nothing,” Zinnie said. “Except I'm ready for lunch.”

“Y
ou dressed me too fancy today,” Lily said with a frown when Marigold and Zinnie arrived to pick her up from camp. Her arms were crossed and she was sitting slightly apart from the other six-year-olds at the picnic tables outside the casino. “The casino” was what the people in Pruet called the converted barn that functioned as the town's gathering space. It was where they held dances, bingo, and even the talent show last year. Lily's camp, the Young Naturalists, met there every day. They used the big room inside as a classroom and ventured out to the inlets, tidal pools, marshes, and farms around Pruet for field trips.

Zinnie couldn't help but giggle when Lily stood up to demonstrate that the gingham dress Marigold had picked out for her had a splat of mud on the back and a dirty hem. But Lily wasn't giggling. She was pouting,
and the same worry line that Zinnie got when she felt anxious creased Lily's brow.

“I'm supposed to wear shorts and a T-shirt,” Lily said, taking Marigold's hand and waving good-bye to her counselors. “We went to a pond today to look for frogs, and tomorrow we're going to a marsh to look at birds.”

“Sorry,” Marigold said. “It's just that it looked so cute on you.”

“Did the camp counselor say anything when she saw you were wearing a dress to camp?” Zinnie asked.

“She asked me if I thought it was a good idea to wear a dress to go for a nature walk, and I said, ‘Yes. Marigold says dresses are good for all occasions.'”

“It's true,” Marigold said. “I wear sundresses when I go for walks.”

“She doesn't mean at the mall, Marigold,” Zinnie said, shaking her head.

“And then she said that the dress might not look the same at the end of the day. I guess she was right. There's mud everywhere and it's not funny.”

Zinnie and Marigold exchanged a concerned glance.

“Did something happen at camp?” Marigold asked.

Zinnie thought it was remarkable how much Marigold sounded like Mom sometimes.

“I can't believe I was wearing a dress today!”

“I'm so sorry,” Marigold said. “Tomorrow we'll put you in shorts and a T-shirt, okay? I didn't know either.”

“The other kids all talk the same, too,” Lily said. “I sound different.”

“What do you mean?” Zinnie asked.

“They sound like Aunt Sunny. They say
‘summ-ah'
instead of ‘summer' and
‘muth-ah'
instead of ‘mother.' Oh, and they all have the same lunch boxes with Princess Arabella or Lumberjack Joe on them. I was the only one with a brown-paper lunch bag.”

“We'll make sure you have a lunch box for tomorrow, okay?” Zinnie said.

“We will?” Marigold asked. “A Princess Arabella or Lumberjack Joe lunch box might be hard to find in Pruet.”

“We'll try our very best,” Zinnie said. “I bet Aunt Sunny can get one.”

“Okay,” Lily said as she kicked a rock along the road.

“You know what will make you feel better?” Zinnie asked, pointing to the ice cream cone–shaped sign above the door of Edith's Ice Cream Shop.

“Ice cream!” Lily exclaimed as they walked inside and the little bell above the door rang, signaling their arrival.

“But we can only get one scoop each,” Marigold said, “so we don't ruin our appetites.”

Aunt Sunny had told them this before they left for the day, but Zinnie had been hoping Marigold would forget. Edith's ice cream was the best in the world and
Zinnie had been waiting all year for another taste. How was one scoop going to be enough?

“Well, if it isn't the three sisters from California!” Edith said as Marigold, Zinnie, and Lily walked through the door. Edith's faithful dachshund Mocha Chip barked a friendly hello. “What a sight for sore eyes. Come on in and try some of my new flavors.”

“New flavors?” Zinnie asked as Lily dropped to her knees and embraced Mocha Chip, who immediately licked her face like she was the best ice cream flavor of all.

“Edith, do you know when the sailing team finishes practice?” Marigold asked.

“In about fifteen minutes, I reckon,” Edith said, glancing at the clock. “That's when I get my afternoon rush. So you girls came just in time to beat the line.”

“Can I use your bathroom, please?” Marigold asked. “I really have to go.”

“Sure thing,” Edith said, and handed her the key from behind the counter.

“What kind of new flavors?” Zinnie asked as she sidled up to the counter and sat on one of the spinning stools.

“Try this,” Edith said, handing Zinnie a plastic spoon with a sample.

Zinnie tasted it. It was a familiar flavor, but she couldn't quite place it. “It's kinda weird but I like it. What is it?”

“Sweet summer corn,” Edith said with a grin. “These unusual flavors are all the rage this summer. Over on the Vineyard they're even serving zucchini blossom ice cream. Corn is about as far as I'll go. Would you like a scoop?”

“Yes, please,” Zinnie said.

“And for you, honey?” Edith asked Lily as she handed Zinnie her ice cream.

“Peppermint stick, please,” Lily said. Zinnie knew she liked it mostly because it was pink. Mocha Chip was now curled up on Lily's lap. “Good boy,” Lily said, scratching behind his ears as Edith brought her a small dish of peppermint stick.

“Hey, remember last summer I suggested you make pickle ice cream?” Zinnie asked.

“I sure do,” Edith said, returning to the counter. “I thought you were nuts.”

“Turns out it wasn't so nuts after all,” Zinnie said, holding up her corn ice cream cone. “I mean, corn?”

“You're going places, kid,” Edith said as she wiped down the counter. “I told you that last year. Don't forget little old Edith when you end up with your name in the papers.”

“I won't,” Zinnie said with a smile. There was nothing little about Edith. She was as tall as Zinnie's father and was quite round, too. Just then she saw Philip Rathbone standing outside the shop and talking on his cell phone. At that very moment, Zinnie heard
the toilet flush.
Poor Marigold,
she thought.
The last thing she needs is to be reminded of
Night Sprites
!
Even though Pruet was a very small town, what were the chances of running into Philip Rathbone? He lived in a huge house on a private road. Zinnie felt sure he also had a private beach. She was determined that her sister not have to see the man who had, as Marigold had put it, “crushed my heart and destroyed my dreams.” The bathroom doorknob turned and, ice cream in hand, Zinnie jumped in front of Marigold, blocking her view of the window.

“Open your mouth and close your eyes and I will give you a big surprise!” Zinnie said, flinging her hand over Marigold's eyes. Remarkably, Marigold did as Zinnie instructed. Zinnie placed the cone of ice cream at Marigold's lips.

“Yum,” Marigold said after taking a lick.

“It's one of Edith's new flavors,” Zinnie said, craning her neck to see if Mr. Rathbone was going to come into the shop. She couldn't tell. He wasn't opening the door, but he wasn't walking on either. He was just sort of hanging around in front of the shop, pacing back and forth and chatting. Zinnie kept her hand over Marigold's eyes. “You have to keep your eyes closed until you guess the flavor.”

“Will you play this game with me next?” Lily asked.

“Sure,” Zinnie said. “What do you think, Marigold?”

“I don't know—this could take a while,” Marigold
said, taking another lick.

“That's okay,” Zinnie said.

“Is it almond?”

“Nope,” Zinnie said. “Guess again.”

“Um . . . kiwi?”

“Kiwi? Are you crazy? Not even close.” Zinnie turned her head again to see what Mr. Rathbone was doing. It looked like he was wrapping up the conversation. He was! With great relief, she watched him end his call, put the phone in his back pocket, and move on. “I'll give you a hint. It comes on a cob.”

“Duh! Corn!” Marigold said.

“You got it,” Zinnie said, and removed her hand from Marigold's face.

“That was too easy!” Lily said.

“It's true,” Edith said. “You gave it away.”

“That's okay,” Zinnie said. “Next time I'll make it harder.”

“Corn ice cream?” Marigold asked with a smile on her face as she studied Edith's new, more daring menu. Zinnie took her seat at the counter again and watched with satisfaction as her sister ordered beach plum sherbet, blissfully unaware that the man who had so cruelly dashed her hopes had moments ago been just steps away.

“W
elcome back!” Jean said when the girls walked into the yacht club office, which was on the second floor of the club and had a great view of the docks and the harbor. Jean was on the computer and Mack was doing paperwork.

“Great to see you,” Mack said, and stood up to shake their hands.

“We're so happy to be here,” Zinnie said.

“Here's the jam for the wedding cake,” Jean said, handing Marigold a shopping bag. “We're looking forward to the big day.”

“We are, too,” Marigold said, but her attention was now focused on the view of the harbor, where the sailing team was making its way back to the docks.

“Where's Peter?” Lily asked. “I can't wait to see him!”

“Practice is finishing up. He should be here any minute,” Jean said. “Why don't you girls go say hi. I forgot to tell him you were coming early, so it will be a surprise.”

“I wonder if Peter will still be as handsome as a prince,” Lily said, taking Marigold's hand as they crossed the yacht club lawn.

“I guess we'll see,” Marigold said.

Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Peter again. Last year he had given her his beat-up Red Sox hat. At first she'd thought it was gross. It was faded and tattered and even a little bit grimy, but on her last day in Pruet, when he placed the hat on her head and told her to keep it, she loved it. By then she couldn't separate her feelings about the hat from her feelings about Peter, and she liked him a lot.
A lot
a lot.

“Do you think he'll take you sailing again?” Zinnie asked.

“I hope so,” Marigold said.

“I think he's going to be my boyfriend,” Lily said.

As the sailing team lowered their sails and the kids hopped out of the boats onto the dock, Marigold wished she'd worn Peter's hat today. All the boys and most of the girls were wearing baseball hats. Red Sox, of course! She would have fit right in. Also, he would know that she had changed from being what he thought of as a fancy L.A. actress who always dressed up and had to look her best to someone who was more
like him: ordinary in the best way.

Marigold watched the kids tie up their boats at the small dock that was just for the sailing team, and she tried to pick out Peter. Where was he? Because of the hats, she couldn't identify him by his red hair. The group was laughing and joking with a togetherness that reminded Marigold of the Cuties. Ugh! She didn't want to think of the Cuties right now, and she did her best to force them from her mind.

“Where's Peter?” Zinnie asked.

“Yeah, I don't see him,” Lily said.

“I don't know,” Marigold said. It wasn't until the group reached the lawn that Marigold could tell he was the one in the bright-blue T-shirt and cargo shorts.

“Peter!” Lily called.

Peter turned to see them. He seemed confused for a second, and then he smiled and waved.

“He looks like a real teenager now,” Zinnie said.

“He does,” Marigold said. He had grown so much. He had to be at least four inches taller. He used to be sort of skinny, but he wasn't anymore. His shoulders were broader, his legs looked stronger, and his arms had bigger muscles.

“Marigold, Zinnie, and Lily,” Peter said, separating from the group and walking toward them. His voice was deeper than it used to be, and while it was hard to tell after a year apart, she was pretty sure that he
had fewer freckles.
He's twice as handsome,
Marigold thought.

“Hi,” Marigold said. There was a light breeze and the afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow. For a moment she wished she still had long hair.

“Hey,” Zinnie said, and she and Peter high-fived.

“You look like a prince,” Lily said.

“Thanks, Lily. You look like a princess,” Peter said.

“And I can dance like one, too,” Lily said.

“Let's see,” Peter said.

As Lily twirled across the lawn, Zinnie laughed and Marigold smiled. One of the things Marigold liked best about Peter was how kind he was to Lily, who had a huge crush on him.

“So, how are you?” Marigold asked.

“Good,” Peter said. “It took me a second to recognize you.”

“I cut my hair,” Marigold said, and then she blushed.
Duh! That's so obvious. S
he wondered if there was something else besides her short hair that made her look different from last summer. Did she look older, too?

“We didn't recognize you at first either,” Zinnie said. “You grew!”

“Five inches,” Peter said.

“We're going to Edith's,” One of the girls from the group called to Peter. She had a long, loose ponytail,
a too-big Pruet High School T-shirt, and a sweatshirt wrapped around her waist. “Are you coming, Pete?”

Pete?
Marigold thought. The name sounded weird to her ear. To her he was Peter. Or
Peet-ah
, as he pronounced it.

“I'll catch up with you in a minute,” Peter said to the girl.

“Okay,” the girl said, and joined the rest of the team.

“I wasn't expecting to see you today,” Peter said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “My mom said you'd be back, but I didn't think it was until later.”

“We came early,” Marigold said. Lily was now leaping around the flagpole, still showing off for Peter.

“Because Aunt Sunny is getting married, and we're helping with the wedding,” Zinnie said.

“So here we are! Ta-da,” Marigold added, and struck a pose. She felt instantly silly with one hand on her hip and the other in the air. And even though she'd been sure that Peter would like her better if she was a casual girl, she now wished she'd dressed up. She remembered why she liked fashion so much. It gave her outside confidence when her inside confidence was lacking.

“So . . . aren't you in a movie?” Peter asked Marigold. When he said “aren't,” it sounded like
“ahh-nt.”

“Not anymore,” Marigold said. Then she changed
the subject. “Do you think you could take me sailing again?”

“Um, sure,” he said.

“Great,” Marigold said. “How about tomorrow?”

“I'm working in the dining room tomorrow and the next day,” Peter said. “But maybe the day after that.”

“Okay,” Marigold said, though three days felt like an eternity.

“Do you girls want to come to Edith's?” Peter asked.

“We just came from there,” Zinnie said.

“And we can't ruin our appetites for dinner,” Lily said.

“Okay,” Peter said. Marigold thought he looked a little relieved.

“Glad you girls are back. But I better go. I gotta meet the team. I'll see you later,” Peter said.

“Bye, Prince Peter!” Lily said.

“See ya!” Zinnie said.

“Can't wait to go sailing!” Marigold called. But Peter was already halfway across the lawn, and he didn't look back.