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Authors: Patricia Reilly Giff
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anything. We’ll work it all out.”
I smiled then.
She poured orange juice again, and pushed the plate of cookies toward me. “We’ll get cereal later, maybe eggs.” She leaned forward. “You can stay as long as you want; I want you to know that.” She held my wrist. “It’s strange, isn’t it, seeing each other?”
She knew how I felt, and she was feeling the same way.
But what I wanted to know most of all I couldn’t ask. Why had she left me? What had I done?
I pursed my lips and blew just a bit of air through them, almost as if I wanted to whistle. But there was no sound, and she glanced at me quickly before she pulled out a chair and sat down.
She was crying. “I’d be furious if I had a mother who’d just walked out. I’ve been angry at myself for all these years.”
I leaned forward. Maybe I’d hear it now. What I’d done. What was wrong with me.
But she glanced up at the clock. “I have to go to work at the bookstore. I’d ask for the day off, but I did that last week. And I’m late even now. Do you think you’ll be all right? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I nodded.
Just before she left, she reached up to a shelf and picked up a shell. Long and narrow, it was a swirl of a shell, covered with small brown squares.
“It’s a junonia. I found it on the island one day.” She put it in my hand. “If you’d like it, it’s yours. Keep it in your room.”
I put my fingers over the smooth shell, remembering what Ms. Quirk had said.
Maybe someday I’ll find one.
Amber reached for a leather jacket and went out the back door. “You’ll be all right, Jay? The store’s number is on the refrigerator.”
I waved. Then everything was quiet. At home I would have heard the foghorn, or the ferry nosing into the slip, maybe church bells.
After I washed and dried the glasses and wiped off the table, I went to investigate: a living room with a couch and two flowered chairs, a dining room with chairs marching around a dark wood table.
Upstairs, the bedroom doors were open.
I remembered going into Aunt Cora’s bedroom. Now she knew I’d found the birthday card in her dresser drawer.
What did she think? That I didn’t care about her, that I wasn’t a jubilee after all? And how would she tell Gideon I was gone?
What would Mr. Kaufmann say to me?
I went into the bedroom. A few boxes were piled in the corner; a framed picture of a city street hung on the wall, a little crooked.
I dragged the boxes into the hall closet and closed the door on them. Then I scraped the bed across the floor so I could look out the window and see the wires that stretched across the back of the houses, and much further, the water, and the smudge of the island.
I pulled out my book to read about a pioneer girl named Laura, but the words ran into each other, and it was hard to pay attention.
I stretched and went back down to the kitchen. Maybe I could find something for lunch. Maybe I’d cook dinner. I’d watched Aunt Cora almost every night as she put potatoes on to bake and vegetables on to boil.
Nothing was in the kitchen cabinets except salt and pepper and a jar of apricot jelly. No wonder Amber was so skinny.
There was money in my jacket pocket. I stood at the window, watching the street, which was much busier than the ones on the island.
Ms. Quirk would say,
Go for it, Judith.
And so I went out the front door, making sure it didn’t lock behind me.
A t five o’clock, Amber stood in the kitchen doorway. “I smell bread toasting. I see eggs frying.”
She swooped toward me, put her arms around my waist, and twirled me around the table. “You’re a genius.” She laughed as we danced around the kitchen.
She made me laugh too; she made me happy. I put my hands on her arms as we twirled, and as I did, I glanced toward the stove. The eggs were burning.
I pointed, but for another moment, she wouldn’t let go.
Then we were apart, both a little out of breath, as I turned the eggs with a spatula.
I smiled then.
She poured orange juice again, and pushed the plate of cookies toward me. “We’ll get cereal later, maybe eggs.” She leaned forward. “You can stay as long as you want; I want you to know that.” She held my wrist. “It’s strange, isn’t it, seeing each other?”
She knew how I felt, and she was feeling the same way.
But what I wanted to know most of all I couldn’t ask. Why had she left me? What had I done?
I pursed my lips and blew just a bit of air through them, almost as if I wanted to whistle. But there was no sound, and she glanced at me quickly before she pulled out a chair and sat down.
She was crying. “I’d be furious if I had a mother who’d just walked out. I’ve been angry at myself for all these years.”
I leaned forward. Maybe I’d hear it now. What I’d done. What was wrong with me.
But she glanced up at the clock. “I have to go to work at the bookstore. I’d ask for the day off, but I did that last week. And I’m late even now. Do you think you’ll be all right? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I nodded.
Just before she left, she reached up to a shelf and picked up a shell. Long and narrow, it was a swirl of a shell, covered with small brown squares.
“It’s a junonia. I found it on the island one day.” She put it in my hand. “If you’d like it, it’s yours. Keep it in your room.”
I put my fingers over the smooth shell, remembering what Ms. Quirk had said.
Maybe someday I’ll find one.
Amber reached for a leather jacket and went out the back door. “You’ll be all right, Jay? The store’s number is on the refrigerator.”
I waved. Then everything was quiet. At home I would have heard the foghorn, or the ferry nosing into the slip, maybe church bells.
After I washed and dried the glasses and wiped off the table, I went to investigate: a living room with a couch and two flowered chairs, a dining room with chairs marching around a dark wood table.
Upstairs, the bedroom doors were open.
I remembered going into Aunt Cora’s bedroom. Now she knew I’d found the birthday card in her dresser drawer.
What did she think? That I didn’t care about her, that I wasn’t a jubilee after all? And how would she tell Gideon I was gone?
What would Mr. Kaufmann say to me?
I went into the bedroom. A few boxes were piled in the corner; a framed picture of a city street hung on the wall, a little crooked.
I dragged the boxes into the hall closet and closed the door on them. Then I scraped the bed across the floor so I could look out the window and see the wires that stretched across the back of the houses, and much further, the water, and the smudge of the island.
I pulled out my book to read about a pioneer girl named Laura, but the words ran into each other, and it was hard to pay attention.
I stretched and went back down to the kitchen. Maybe I could find something for lunch. Maybe I’d cook dinner. I’d watched Aunt Cora almost every night as she put potatoes on to bake and vegetables on to boil.
Nothing was in the kitchen cabinets except salt and pepper and a jar of apricot jelly. No wonder Amber was so skinny.
There was money in my jacket pocket. I stood at the window, watching the street, which was much busier than the ones on the island.
Ms. Quirk would say,
Go for it, Judith.
And so I went out the front door, making sure it didn’t lock behind me.
A t five o’clock, Amber stood in the kitchen doorway. “I smell bread toasting. I see eggs frying.”
She swooped toward me, put her arms around my waist, and twirled me around the table. “You’re a genius.” She laughed as we danced around the kitchen.
She made me laugh too; she made me happy. I put my hands on her arms as we twirled, and as I did, I glanced toward the stove. The eggs were burning.
I pointed, but for another moment, she wouldn’t let go.
Then we were apart, both a little out of breath, as I turned the eggs with a spatula.
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