Counting Thyme (14 page)

Cori looked at me, and I shrugged. I didn't know what Grandma was talking about. Maybe it had something to do with renting our house while we were gone. But Mom's face had gone really red, so I couldn't imagine that was it. Maybe they'd found a renter, and Mom just didn't want to tell us about it. I hoped whoever they were, they wouldn't mess up my room.

We all said good-bye to Grandma Kay, though I didn't want to. In just an hour, I'd gotten used to having her there again. Val even sang the good-bye song from his old preschool, with Dad joining in using a goofy voice. When we finally signed off, the room felt strangely empty.

Then Cori pushed her plate away and groaned. “That was the worst,” she said. “I can't wait until Mrs. Ravelli's back.”

I looked at Mom, expecting her to get mad. But she just sighed and said, “Me either.”

Then Dad burst out laughing, and so did I, which was such a relief.

But when I looked over at Val, his little blue eyes looked so big and sad all of a sudden.

“I miss Grandma,” he said, and the air went out of the room. For a second, I thought Mom would agree with him, too. But then she started talking about all of the super-fun things they were going to do in New York once he was better, as though that made up for Grandma not being there. Only it didn't, not really. Of course Val missed Grandma. We all did.

When Mom went to get the dessert, I didn't tell Val things would get better. I just squeezed his hand and said, “I miss her, too.”

SNOW DAY

THE NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL STARTED BACK, SNOW FELL THICK AND
heavy over the city. I woke up early to a strange kind of quiet. No beeping horns. No rattling trucks. No sirens. It sounded like the world had stopped. For five solid minutes, I lay in my bed, staring at the bluish light filtering through the curtains. As time ticked by in silence, a tiny glow of hope built in my chest. Maybe we wouldn't go back to school that morning after all. I was nervous about seeing Jake again. What did you say to a boy who told you he liked your dress? And shared all his secrets? Or was he like that with everyone because he was a nice guy, and I was crazy to think that maybe he liked me? Shani would have known what to say.

BUZZZZ!
Cori's alarm clock shattered the silence.

“Stop it,” she said, whacking at the alarm clock and knocking everything else off her bedside table in the process. A split second later, a dull scraping noise erupted outside the window. A plow. The sound grew until the screech was so loud it felt like the plow was scraping the inside of my skull.

CRASH!
Muffled shouting drifted in from the street. After a few high-pitched beeps, the plow's scraping picked up
again, and I slipped my head beneath my pillow to pretend for five more minutes that I didn't have to get up, though I had a sneaking suspicion that there were no such things as snow days in New York City. In San Diego, even the threat of ice guaranteed at least a delay, but in this place, people didn't seem to let anything get in their way.

I must have drifted off again, because the next thing I knew, our door popped open with a bang. The frame was so thickly painted that the wood tended to stick.

“Girls, time to get up,” Mom said. Pause. “
Now.
”

“I'm coming already!” Cori shouted.

“You better be. Your alarm went off twenty minutes ago. Now hurry up, or you're going to be late. You're on your own starting today. Thyme, Mrs. Ravelli will be here any minute. Get moving.”

“Okay, okay.” I stuck one leg into the icy air to prove I was moving. But as soon as Mom left, I pulled my leg back beneath my comforter. Then her words registered. Cori was walking to the subway on her own? What about Dad? He always went with her.

I jumped out of bed and hustled my freezing skin into a set of fresh clothes. When I got to the breakfast bar, Dad wasn't in his usual spot at the dining table, in front of his laptop.

“Where's Dad?”

Mom slid a whole-grain toaster pastry onto my plate, the organic kind with the frosting that didn't really taste sweet. “He starts full-time at the ad agency this week,” she said, moving on to Val's plate. “From now on, he'll be out of here
first thing in the morning.” She poked Val's side. “And soon, you'll be off to school just like your sisters, buckaroo!”

Val giggled, and bits of pastry sprinkled from his mouth to the floor.

“Dad didn't tell me that,” I said.

Mom hurried back into the kitchen. “What?”

“I didn't know,” I said, more loudly this time. If they'd told me Dad had taken a full-time job, I would have remembered. And why was he taking a job? I thought he was just working freelance so it would be no problem when we moved back to California.

“Sorry,” Mom said. “Things came together last week. We're lucky a position opened up. We couldn't get by on freelance projects forever. It was perfect timing, really.” She turned away, and a sinking feeling came over me. Ever since Mom and Dad told us about Val's blood test, I'd thought maybe they were being straight with me. But I was stupid to think they weren't hiding things anymore.

“Eat up,” Mom warned. “Mrs. Ravelli will be here any minute. And you still need to brush your teeth
and
your hair. Maybe you can get up on time tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine.” I took a bite of my breakfast, but the pastry turned to sawdust in my mouth.

Cori rushed by, stuffed her arms in her jacket, and shouted good-bye to Mom, who came around the corner to give her a quick hug. “Don't make me regret giving you your freedom,” Mom said. Cori smiled and left, looking like she was on top of the world. Of course she was. She was getting
exactly what she wanted, while I was just stumbling to keep up. Suddenly, I had to get out of the apartment, away from Mom, who didn't think twice about hiding things from me.

When Mrs. Ravelli showed up a few minutes later, I was ready to go in my scarf, gloves, boots, and puffy jacket. “Can we just leave?” I said.

“In a minute,
bambina
. First, let me get your lunch.” She walked past me and said hello to Mom and Val and took her time in the kitchen while I sweated by the door.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me a lunch bag. I stuffed it in my bookbag while she tied her scarf over her curly gray hair, and finally, we were off.

“I'm sure you're happy to see your friends,” she said on our way to school.

You have no idea,
I thought. At least the girls at school didn't forget to tell me about major important life-changing news. Sure, they went a little overboard when it came to gossip, but being overinformed was better than being left out completely.

Thanks to the fresh snow, the walk that morning was hard. Some of the sidewalks were fully shoveled, while others were impossible. More often than not, we had to worm single file down wandering, slippery paths that were closer to sledding runs than walkways. By the time we reached MS 221, Mrs. Ravelli was panting and my stomach was twisting. How could Dad have taken a full-time job? That didn't make it sound like we were going home in March.

My back was all sweaty under my heavy coat. I had to get
inside before I combusted. I said bye to Ravioli and darted up the steps to the red double doors. A gust of warm, musty air greeted me—the smell of books and piping hot radiators. I shrugged off my coat, and the tightness in my throat started to ease, then let up entirely when my locker popped open after only two tries. I told myself it was going to be okay. There were one hundred and twenty hours in my Thyme Jar. More than I'd ever earned before. One way or the other, I was going to get back home.

At lunch, everyone was buzzing about the Spring Fling again. Tryouts were at the end of the week. According to Emily, Mr. Calhoun said she had a “great shot” at the lead role. Of course she looked right at Lizzie when she said it, and Lizzie looked away. So they were still fighting, then.

“You'll make an awesome Dorothy,” Rebeccah said to Emily.

“I know.” Emily grinned, and everyone else exploded into chatter about the show, everyone except for Lizzie, so I asked her if she'd had a fun vacation.

“It was okay,” she said. “I had to work at my parents' store. Last-minute shoppers and all that.” Then her eyes brightened behind her glasses. “I almost forgot! I brought something from the store.” She rummaged in the pocket of her overalls, which looked like something Val would've worn when he was three. The pigtails were back, too. I liked how she wore what she wanted, even if it was a little goofy.

“I found this in an old dresser,” she said, pulling out a wad of yellowed newspaper. “I thought it was just trash, but wait till you see what's inside!”

“What's that?” Emily asked.

Lizzie hesitated, the paper nearly unfolded. “It's just something I found at my parents' store.”

At the mention of Lizzie's family store, Emily rolled her eyes. “Not old stuff again.”

“Old stuff can be cool,” I said, thinking maybe Emily would take my hint to lighten up, but she just glared at me like we hadn't spent all that time together at her party and she hadn't asked me to go to
The Nutcracker
with her. Maybe those things meant less than I'd thought.

“Well, are you going to show all of us or just Thyme?” she asked Lizzie.

A pink blush crept over Lizzie's cheeks as she unfolded the paper while the whole table watched. Inside was a pile of flat, dull green leaves. She plucked one from the top. “They're four-leaf clovers.”

The four matching leaves were perfectly spaced and perfectly smooth.

“That isn't real,” Rebeccah said.

Lizzie just sat there, so I took a clover and felt the leaves. They were paper thin, but they had ridges and veins like real leaves. They were just old and dry. “It's real,” I said, and everyone else leaned in for a better look, picking up clovers and holding them to the light. Everyone except for Emily.

“Look at how old that newspaper is,” she said. “Who knows where it came from.”

Rebeccah leaned back. “She's right. They're probably covered in germs.We shouldn't touch them.”

Celia had a clover in her hand. Slowly, she put it back on Lizzie's pile. So did Delia and all the other girls.

“Sorry,” Lizzie said as she folded up the newspaper. “I thought you guys might want them, for good luck at tryouts.”

Emily frowned, and Rebeccah said, “You keep them. You need all the luck you can get.”

Lizzie's face closed up. Then she crammed the clovers in her pocket and rushed away from the table. The whole time, Emily just sat there, letting it all happen.

I balled up the end of my turkey and Swiss and stood to go after Lizzie.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked.

“To talk to her.” For a second, Emily looked like she regretted everything that had happened. I leaned across the table. “You could go talk to her, too, you know. Right now.” For a second, Emily's eyes widened. Maybe I'd said exactly what she was thinking. Or maybe she was just plain annoyed, because the next thing I knew, she was glaring at me again.

“You have no idea what you're talking about. This is none of your business.”

“You're right,” I said. “It's not.” I didn't know why I gave two hoots about these girls and their stupid fight. I guess I just didn't like watching Lizzie get dumped on.

“Run along after your little friend,” Rebeccah said, clearly enjoying her new place at Emily's side.

I waited for Emily to say something else. When she didn't, I left.