The Forget-Me-Not Summer (22 page)

T
he next day, the day of the talent show, it was so windy that they didn't even bother carrying the beach umbrella out of the car. “If we open it up and hold on, the wind will swoop us away over the sea,” Aunt Sunny said.

“Maybe it would drop us on a forgotten island,” Lily said.

“Let's go there in our imaginations instead,” Aunt Sunny said, and she and the girls took the wood-planked path to the estuary side of the beach. A strong breeze blew, filling Zinnie's ears with swirling air and billowing out her T-shirt. It was odd to go to the beach on such a blustery day, but earlier that morning Aunt Sunny had insisted there was nothing to soothe a nervous soul like the fresh ocean air. They would have to get to the casino a few hours early to help Jean set up,
but Aunt Sunny assured them that there was plenty of time for an early lunch and even a quick dip.

“You're nervous, aren't you?” Aunt Sunny asked when Zinnie had barely touched her pancakes, her favorite breakfast. Aunt Sunny was right. Zinnie was too nervous to eat. It wasn't just that the whole talent show had been her idea and she desperately wanted it to go well, or that Philip Rathbone himself was going to be judging the contest and would determine on the basis of her play whether or not Marigold got to be in
Night Sprites
, or even that she was going to be playing Gus, the chicken, in front of so many people. It was also that Marigold had been acting really weird all morning. She was speaking in a more high-pitched voice, she wasn't making eye contact, and she was chewing her nails, a habit she'd quit in fifth grade.

Zinnie wondered if it was the kiss that had turned Marigold into such a weirdo. Isn't that what all the songs about kissing and falling in love said? That it made you crazy? Now that she thought of it, the latest single by Amanda Mills was called “Kiss Me to Crazytown.” Had Marigold, in fact, been kissed all the way to Crazytown?

When they reached the estuary, there was a wooden sign that read
FAST CURRENT,
SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK. NO LIFEGUARDS.
Zinnie had never noticed it before. As the breeze lifted her curls into the wind,
she wondered if that sign was always there or if today was particularly dangerous.

“That's the spot,” Aunt Sunny said, and pointed to a sandy little nook up the beach that was sheltered by two big dunes. They made their way there and set up camp. Zinnie tried to spread out her towel while standing up, but it was too windy. It kept fluttering over her head. She had to hunker down and secure it with rocks. Marigold simply sat on her folded towel and gazed out at the estuary.

“I have quite a surprise for you girls tonight,” Aunt Sunny said, with one hand holding the hat on her head as she unfolded her beach chair and planted it in the sand. The chair part was so saggy that it touched the sand when she sat on it.

“What is it?” Lily asked, plopping down next to Aunt Sunny without even bothering to sit on a towel. She was holding the rock that Peter had given her.

“It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” Aunt Sunny said, rustling Lily's hair.

“What if we guess it?” Lily asked.

“I'll never let on,” Aunt Sunny said. “I'm like a Swiss vault.”

“What do you think it is, Marigold?” Zinnie asked, noticing that once they were sitting down, there was hardly any wind in their little corner of the beach. It was toasty warm.

“Dunno,” Marigold said, picking up a fistful of sand. She stared at it as she let it slip between her fingers.

“I'm hungry,” Lily said, and fluttered her lips.

“Me, too,” Aunt Sunny said, and sat up, looking around her. She sighed and tapped her head. “See, I'm so excited about the surprise that I've gone and left the sandwiches in the car. Never mind. I'll go get them. You girls stay here. Don't anyone go in the water until I'm back. Marigold is in charge.”

“Okay,” Lily said. She was now burying her legs in the sand, covering everything except Peter's rock, which was balanced on her right kneecap.

Once Aunt Sunny had disappeared completely down the path, Marigold turned to Zinnie and took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Is it about the K-I-S-S?” Zinnie said, squinting in the sun.

“No.” Marigold sighed. “Wait, how did you know about that?”

“I kinda saw it,” Zinnie said, and bit her lip.

“That's weird,” Marigold said. Zinnie felt a sting of humiliation; it wasn't like she'd meant to see it. “But no,” Marigold continued, “it's not about that. Actually, I have to tell you that I can't be in the play.”

“Ha-ha. Not funny,” Zinnie said.

“I'm not joking,” Marigold said.

“What?” Zinnie studied her sister, not understanding. It was like Marigold had spoken to her in
Kawooluh, the ancient Night Sprite language.

“I'm serious,” Marigold said. “I'm sorry.”

“It's in four hours, Marigold,” Zinnie said. “You have to do it.”

“Yeah,” Lily said. “You have to. You're the star.”

“I can't,” Marigold said.

“Why not?” Zinnie asked. Her lower lip started to tremble.

“I'm a professional actor, and it got out to the actors' union that I was doing this. And they won't let me.”

“That's a lie!” Zinnie said. “You're lying! Tell me the truth.”

“Stop yelling,” Lily said, putting her hands over her ears.

“I just can't,” Marigold said. “Okay. I can't!”

“But you're going to ruin everything!” Zinnie said.

“Stop it,” Lily said, jamming her feet in the sand.

Zinnie stood up. She should have known this was going to happen. Yesterday, before the dance, when Marigold gave her a makeover, had just been a freak accident. This whole summer had been a fluke. Here was the Marigold she knew, who took what she wanted and didn't care about anyone else, who changed the radio station every time Zinnie started to sing along, and who didn't allow her to sit with her and her friends in the school cafeteria.

Zinnie paced, the anger building inside her with every footprint in the sand. Each memory of Marigold's
dismissing and belittling her was like another stick thrown on Zinnie's fire. She turned to Marigold, who was pouting as if Zinnie were the one who was acting like a brat. What had she expected? That she could just ruin her play and Zinnie would accept it?

“How did you get so mean?” Zinnie asked her. “Mom's not mean. Dad's not mean. I'm not mean. Lily's not mean. So why are you?”

Marigold threw off her sunglasses and sprang to her feet. “Because you copy everything I do, and I hate it. I hate it so much. You copy what I say, you copy what I do, you copy what I wear, and you even copy how I walk. You tried to be an actress because I'm an actress. You figure out what my favorite song is, and then you make it yours. You even try to make my friends your friends. I just want some space to be my own person without you following me everywhere and breathing down my neck. I just want my own life!”

“Fine,” Zinnie shouted, her hair flying in her face. She looked Marigold right in the eye. She pointed at her with a shaky finger. “I'll stop copying you. I used to look up to you, but I don't anymore. You're a bad sister.” Zinnie watched, not breathing, as Marigold's face paled, then reddened as if she'd been slapped, but she wasn't finished. “You're too scared to tell me the real reason why you're quitting. I always thought that you were brave and smart and perfect, my strong older sister. But you're not. You're just a chicken.”

Marigold's eyes filled. She sucked in air and turned around. Then she screamed. Not a scream of anger but a scream of fear. “Oh, my God,” Marigold shrieked. “Oh, my God, where's Lily?”

T
hey spotted Lily in her red bathing suit, being carried by the current to the roaring mouth of the ocean. The girls sprinted up the beach, trying to stay with her. Fueled by fear, Marigold and Zinnie ran faster than they ever had. But still they couldn't seem to catch up. It was difficult to run on the sand, and the wind knocked them about, pushing them sideways, slowing them down. They shouted Lily's name in wild, panicked voices that scraped their throats, but Lily did not wave or call back. Could she hear them? Was her head above water? Was she facing up or down? It was hard to tell. The estuary was choppy and rapid.

Then it felt like Aunt Sunny appeared from out of nowhere. She was swimming on a diagonal across the estuary in fast, clean strokes. It was as though she
had swan dived from atop the dune, though that would have been impossible. Marigold and Zinnie clung to each other and watched as the gap between Aunt Sunny and Lily grew smaller and smaller and at last, at last, was closed. They held each other even tighter as Aunt Sunny pulled Lily, again on a diagonal, back to the shore in slow, even strokes. As they got closer, Marigold and Zinnie could see Lily's little feet kicking, but they didn't let go of each other until they heard her little voice exclaim, “Again!”

“L
ily,” Marigold said, rushing to embrace her littlest sister and wrap her in a towel. Zinnie hugged her from the other side.

“I did it,” Lily said as Marigold dried her off and Zinnie kissed her wet head. Lily was so thrilled that she didn't even realize that her teeth were chattering. “I swam all by myself. I was so b-b-b-brave!”

“Yes, indeed,” Aunt Sunny said, who stood breathless and dripping next to her. “But do you remember when we talked about how important it is to have an adult with you when you go swimming?” Lily nodded reluctantly. “And do you remember how before I left to get the sandwiches, I told you girls that no one was to go in the water?”

Again, Lily nodded, looking at the sand. “Am I in deep trouble?”

“No,” Aunt Sunny said. “You are not. But you must promise me that you will never go in the ocean without a grown-up.” Lily nodded. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Lily said.

“And you must always do as I say,” Aunt Sunny added. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Lily said.

“Now tell us,” Aunt Sunny said, “why did you go in today? Why today of all days?”

“Marigold and Zinnie were fighting,” Lily said. Marigold and Zinnie exchanged a quick and heated glance, from which Marigold turned away first. All three sisters were quiet and still, their faces as serious as that old-fashioned doll's they'd found in the attic.

“I see,” Aunt Sunny said, and flashed Marigold and Zinnie a look that chilled their very bones. “And why did that make you want to go swimming?”

“I thought they'd be so surprised that they'd stop. And it worked,” Lily said.

“It certainly did,” Aunt Sunny said.

Instead of leaving right away, Aunt Sunny insisted that they stay for a bit. They ate a civilized lunch and upon Lily's request had a tea party with the lemonade. Then Zinnie and Marigold played with Lily. They buried her in the sand. They chased her through the dunes. They built a castle for her rock. They did all this and more with Aunt Sunny close behind, keeping a hawk's eye on them. And though they spoke to
Lily, laughed with her, and played whatever part she wanted them to in her imaginary games, they didn't say a word to each other.

“It's time to go now,” Aunt Sunny said when a third game of jewelry store came to an end. She told Marigold and Zinnie to gather and carry all their belongings as she walked Lily to the station wagon and belted her in. Then she took the two older girls aside.

“I'm very disappointed in you two,” she said. “How could you have let this happen?”

“She told me she wasn't going to be in my play anymore,” Zinnie said, pointing to Marigold. “And we got in a big fight.”

“I have a right to change my mind,” Marigold said. “She called me names. She said I was a liar.”

“You are!” Zinnie said.

“What has gotten into you?” Aunt Sunny said. Her voice was low and calm, but without its usual warmth. “Nothing is more important than looking out for one another. Nothing is more important than your sisters. Do you know what could've happened today?”

Marigold nodded and bit her lip, staring at her feet. Tears dripped down Zinnie's chin.

“I didn't scold you earlier,” Aunt Sunny continued, “because I don't want Lily to have any more traumatic memories of the ocean, but make no mistake about it, she could've been lost forever.”