Filed to story: The One That Got Away
After Mommy died, we never had another recital party.
“Are you serious?” I ask her.
“Why not?” Alice shrugs. “It’ll be fun. I’ll plan it all, you won’t have to do anything.”
“You know I hate piano.”
“Then don’t play.”
Kitty’s looking from me to Alice with worried eyes. Biting her lip, she offers, “I’ll do some tae kwon do moves.”
Alice reaches out and cuddles Kitty to her and says, “That’s a great idea. I’ll play the piano and you’ll do tae kwon do, and Bella will just-“
“Watch,” I finish.
“I was going to say hostess, but suit yourself.”
I don’t answer her.
Later, we’re watching TV and Kitty’s asleep, curled up on the couch like she’s a real cat. Alice wants to wake her up and make her go to her bed, but I say just let her sleep, and I put a quilt over her.
“Will you help me work on Daddy about a puppy for Christmas?” I ask.
Alice groans. “Puppies are so much work. You have to let them out to pee, like, a million times a day. And they shed like crazy. You’ll never be able to wear black pants again. Also who’s going to walk it, and feed it, and take care of it?”
“Kitty will. And I’ll help.”
“Kitty is so not ready for the responsibility.” Her eyes say, And neither are you.
“Kitty’s matured a lot since you’ve been gone.” And so have I. “Did you know that Kitty packs her own lunch now? And she helps with the laundry? I don’t have to nag her to do her homework either. She just does it on her own.”
“Really? Then I’m impressed.”
Why can’t she just say, Good job, Bella? That’s it. If she could just acknowledge that I’ve been doing my part to keep the family going since she’s been gone. But no.
At six thirty in the morning the day of the ski trip, Daddy drops me off at school. It’s not even light out yet. It seems like every day the sun takes longer and longer to come up. Before I hop out of the car, my dad pulls a hat out of his coat pocket. It’s light pink yarn with a pom-pom on top. He fits it on my head so it covers my ears. “I found this in the hall closet. I think it was one of your mom’s. She was such a great skier.”
“I know. I remember.”
“Promise me you’ll go out on the slopes at least once.”
“I promise.”
“I’m so glad you’re doing this. It’s good for you to try new things.”
I smile weakly. If he only knew what went down at the ski trip, he wouldn’t be so glad then. Then I spot Louis and his friends messing around outside by the charter bus. “Thanks for the ride, Daddy. See you tomorrow night.” I give him a peck on the cheek and grab my duffel bag.
“Zip up your coat,” he calls out as I shut the car door.
I zip up my coat and watch his car drive off. Across the parking lot, Louis’s talking to Genevivian. He says something that makes her laugh. Then he sees me and gestures at me to come over. Genevivian walks away, looking down at her clipboard. When I get there, he takes my duffel bag off my shoulder and puts it next to his. “I’ll put this on the bus.”
“It’s freezing,” I say, my teeth chattering.
Louis pulls me in front of him and puts his arms around me. “I’ll keep you warm.” I look up at him, like, SO cheesy, but his attention is somewhere else. He’s watching Genevivian. He snuggles against my neck, and I squirm away from him. “What’s with you?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say.
Ms Davenport and Coach White are looking through kids’ bags – Ms Davenport’s doing the girls and Coach White is doing the boys. “What are they looking for?” I ask Louis.
“Alcohol.”
I whip out my phone and text Chris.
Don’t bring alcohol! They are checking!
No response.
Are you awake??
Wake up!
But then her mom’s SUV pulls into the parking lot and she stumbles out of the passenger seat. She looks like she just woke up.
What a relief! Louis can talk to Genevivian all he wants; I’ll be sharing a seat with Chris and eating the snacks I packed. I have strawberry gummies and the wasabi peas that Chris loves, and Pocky sticks.
Louis groans. “Chris is coming?”
I ignore him and wave at her.
Genevivian’s standing by the bus with her clipboard when she spots Chris too. She has a big frown on her face. She marches right up to Chris and says, “You didn’t sign up.”
I run over to them and hover next to Chris. In a small voice I say, “In the announcements last week they said there were still spots left.”