Read Online Family Reunion by Caroline B. Cooney - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline B. Cooney
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be Perfect, too, I thought. She'll be part of them, not us.
“I'll take charge, Shelley,” said my sister confidently. “We'll push Annette into a corner and let her fade there.”
When Joanna had flown to Paris, on the day school ended in early June, Annette had still been an interloper.But since then, we had dealt with bomb shelter time-shares. Gone for bagels in Boston. Paraded hollow legs around town. Sold zinnias by leaping in front of cars. We were almost—well, within a mountain range or two— a family.
“Annette's not so bad,” I said.
Joanna laughed scornfully “What—is she listening?” said my sister.
What if, when we got to Barrington, Joanna was the interloper in our family? Somebody who lopes around, getting in between you and what you care about. If she didn't get between me and anything else, Joanna would certainly get between me and attention. How could my summer hold a candle to hers? Even my sunglasses weren't going to measure up to hers.
I knew then that nobody would squeeze lemons for lemonade. They would dump imitation lemonade powder into a Tupperware jug and swish it around and toss it over ice cubes, and it wouldn't count.
The plane landed.
It was so bumpy a landing that the whole plane held its breath and exhaled in unison once we were definitely down. My hands had gone cold. We shuffled out of the plane into the red-carpeted arm of the terminal. I hate those portable folding hallways. I feel as if I'm in a vacuum cleaner, about to be sucked up into something suffocating.
“Is my hair all right?” whispered Annette. Her hair looked awful. “You look great, Annette,” I told her.
She got out her purse mirror to check. “I look terrible. You were being kind. You know you've touched bottom when a stepchild is kind.”
“There they are!” shouted Angus, running ahead. Whatever had silenced him during the flight had evaporated.
The Perfects were in a row, neatly arranged by height, just as I had remembered them. Grandma was the shortest, her hair whiter and thinner. She beamed and held out her arms for Angus. Aunt Maggie was next, streaky blond and beautiful in sleek white trousers with a crisp navy top and polka-dotted accessories and fragile sandals. Uncle Todd was in khaki pants, a safari shirt and sneakers so white he must have bought them an hour before. Carolyn was taller than her father, looking cool and calm and only slightly interested. She raised an eyebrow as Angus whooped and hollered and flung himself on his relatives.
I'm afraid, I thought. It's like school. It's a test. We're Perfect—are you? What's your score? Where do you rank? Our expectations are low.
I will be Perfect, I told myself. I will make Annette Perfect. I will kill anybody who implies by a single syllable that Daddy is anything other than Perfect. When my Perfect sister arrives, I will Perfectly defer to her.
I advanced smoothly, as if on wheels. This would set the pace for our whole visit.
“Wait!” cried the flight attendant. She raced up to me. “You forgot your leg!” she shouted, thrusting it into my arms.
Uncle Todd and Angus were in the workshop off the three-car garage, drilling, because Uncle Todd said the leg would be easier to carry around if it had a rope sling.
“Like a submachine gun!” said Angus happily. “Just casually thrown over my shoulder.”
Uncle Todd's approval of everything Angus was and said and had brought on the plane had restored Angus's spirits. It had not done the same for Annette. “I'm going to carry a lifelong grudge against that flight attendant,” Annette said to me.
Aunt Maggie said primly, “Perhaps Angus should not have been permitted to bring the leg to start with. I can wellimagine that Charlie would have been entertained by it, however. My brother always likes to draw attention to himself. That's why I know he will love this weekend. When is his flight getting in?”
Annette looked vague.
Great, I thought. Wife Number Three has no idea
“I'll take charge, Shelley,” said my sister confidently. “We'll push Annette into a corner and let her fade there.”
When Joanna had flown to Paris, on the day school ended in early June, Annette had still been an interloper.But since then, we had dealt with bomb shelter time-shares. Gone for bagels in Boston. Paraded hollow legs around town. Sold zinnias by leaping in front of cars. We were almost—well, within a mountain range or two— a family.
“Annette's not so bad,” I said.
Joanna laughed scornfully “What—is she listening?” said my sister.
What if, when we got to Barrington, Joanna was the interloper in our family? Somebody who lopes around, getting in between you and what you care about. If she didn't get between me and anything else, Joanna would certainly get between me and attention. How could my summer hold a candle to hers? Even my sunglasses weren't going to measure up to hers.
I knew then that nobody would squeeze lemons for lemonade. They would dump imitation lemonade powder into a Tupperware jug and swish it around and toss it over ice cubes, and it wouldn't count.
The plane landed.
It was so bumpy a landing that the whole plane held its breath and exhaled in unison once we were definitely down. My hands had gone cold. We shuffled out of the plane into the red-carpeted arm of the terminal. I hate those portable folding hallways. I feel as if I'm in a vacuum cleaner, about to be sucked up into something suffocating.
“Is my hair all right?” whispered Annette. Her hair looked awful. “You look great, Annette,” I told her.
She got out her purse mirror to check. “I look terrible. You were being kind. You know you've touched bottom when a stepchild is kind.”
“There they are!” shouted Angus, running ahead. Whatever had silenced him during the flight had evaporated.
The Perfects were in a row, neatly arranged by height, just as I had remembered them. Grandma was the shortest, her hair whiter and thinner. She beamed and held out her arms for Angus. Aunt Maggie was next, streaky blond and beautiful in sleek white trousers with a crisp navy top and polka-dotted accessories and fragile sandals. Uncle Todd was in khaki pants, a safari shirt and sneakers so white he must have bought them an hour before. Carolyn was taller than her father, looking cool and calm and only slightly interested. She raised an eyebrow as Angus whooped and hollered and flung himself on his relatives.
I'm afraid, I thought. It's like school. It's a test. We're Perfect—are you? What's your score? Where do you rank? Our expectations are low.
I will be Perfect, I told myself. I will make Annette Perfect. I will kill anybody who implies by a single syllable that Daddy is anything other than Perfect. When my Perfect sister arrives, I will Perfectly defer to her.
I advanced smoothly, as if on wheels. This would set the pace for our whole visit.
“Wait!” cried the flight attendant. She raced up to me. “You forgot your leg!” she shouted, thrusting it into my arms.
Uncle Todd and Angus were in the workshop off the three-car garage, drilling, because Uncle Todd said the leg would be easier to carry around if it had a rope sling.
“Like a submachine gun!” said Angus happily. “Just casually thrown over my shoulder.”
Uncle Todd's approval of everything Angus was and said and had brought on the plane had restored Angus's spirits. It had not done the same for Annette. “I'm going to carry a lifelong grudge against that flight attendant,” Annette said to me.
Aunt Maggie said primly, “Perhaps Angus should not have been permitted to bring the leg to start with. I can wellimagine that Charlie would have been entertained by it, however. My brother always likes to draw attention to himself. That's why I know he will love this weekend. When is his flight getting in?”
Annette looked vague.
Great, I thought. Wife Number Three has no idea
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