before she’d even started, she wanted to get unmade from being a maker, and fast.
"So how come you tried?" Wendy asked. "Even when you knew it wouldn’t work."
"Because you always have to hope that it does work. That’s what it’s all about. Even when it seems impossible."
"Is love ever possible?"
Mom stood behind Wendy, lightly rubbing her shoulders. "I needed a child, too. And we needed somebody to run the wind because I knew I wouldn’t be young forever We thought that having you would solve everything, you’d be the magic that kept us together."
"You didn’t answer my question. Is love ever possible?"
The sky was darker now, a bruised shade of purple. More stars had been shaken out and the moon girl was right on schedule.
After a cricket chirped in the stillness, Mom said, "I suppose."
At that moment, Wendy wished she were a rain girl, so she could cry and be done with it. Where were the clouds? Where was that dumb thunder? She wanted to get rid of this wind in a hurry.
Voices came from down the sidewalk. Under the streetlamp, Wendy saw three shadowy figures, then heard Beth’s giggle. The three stepped into the light, Beth on one side, Sue Ellen on the other, and in the middle—oh, sweet mother maker, it must be Randy.
Randy, who was even taller than she imagined, and even in the bad light and him thirty feet away, she could see that his eyes were big and bright and were those dreamy kind that probably looked at you when you talked instead of walking all over your body.
Sue Ellen was closest, and she waved to them on the porch. Sue Ellen was in her blue wool sweater, the one that showed off her fast-developing figure. Wendy hated Sue Ellen at that moment, because Wendy was stuck like a lump in her rocking chair, waiting to make some stupid storm, and was wearing a ratty old sweatshirt.
Beth had her arm locked in Randy’s. Beth had to walk off-balance and kind of leaning over, because Randy was so tall. Beth didn’t seem to mind too much, because she kept falling over and bumping into Randy.
"Hey, Wendy," Beth said, when they were closer. "Hi, Mrs. Wells."
"Hi, girls," Wendy’s mom said.
"Hey," Wendy said, barely a whisper, but the plastic lawn bird spun its wings.
"Randy wanted to meet you," Beth said. Wendy couldn’t tell if Beth was joking. Or maybe she was showing off, because she managed another of her four-star giggles.
"Hi." Wendy flipped her wrist in greeting as if she could care less whether Randy turned away or whether he came closer with those big eyes that didn’t look like they could hurt you.
"Hi, Wendy," Randy said. He was wearing a T-shirt, even though the night was cool, and his forearms had real muscles, not like the arms of ninth-grade boys.
"We’re going for a pizza," Sue Ellen said. "Want to come with us?"
Pizza. With Randy. That meant she’d have garlic breath and there would be no way to kiss him and, anyway, when they slid in the booth it would be Sue Ellen and Wendy on one side, Randy and Beth on the other. Suddenly-clumsy Beth, who would manage to fall into him at least four times before the waitress even brought the pitcher of tea.
But for an hour of those eyes across the table—
"Can I go, Mom?"
"Sorry, honey. You have chores, remember?"
Wendy gazed at the black sky, the clear stars, the moon with no cloud touching it. Perfect weather. Perfect for everything but Wendy getting to do something fun for once.
"I—I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow, I guess," Wendy said, as if she were the last puppy in the pound.
"You sure?" Sue Ellen said, secretly rolling her eyes toward Randy as if to say, "How can you pass up a chance with this dream machine?"
"I have stuff to do. Maybe some other time."
Some other time, right. After Beth was wearing Randy’s ring, and it would shine with real stones, because you could just bet that a guy with a smile like Randy’s had a way with money. Or Sue Ellen might lure him away by wearing one of those blouses that
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