Leap Day (20 page)

“Come out, you scoundrel!” Grandma orders. Rob and Grandpa come out from behind the couch. Rob is holding his stomach from laughing so hard. Grandpa has his usual glass of whiskey in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face. Rob is certainly in a better mood than the last time I saw him.

“I should have known you’d be involved in this, Harold,” Grandma says, shaking her head. “Oh, the jokes he used to pull on my parents when we were young.”

My grandfather is a walking contradiction. He used to be an accountant, like my father, and it took a small heart attack at seventy to get him to retire. He drinks a shot of whiskey a day, and doesn’t suffer fools gladly, as he’ll tell anyone who will listen. Yet he’s been pulling quarters out of our ears and encouraging us to fill the sugar bowl with salt for as long as I can remember.

He gives me a hug, and I can feel how thin he has gotten. As much as I love them, seeing my grandparents always reminds me of how much I don’t want to get old.

Mom walks into the den, carrying the piñata. “I wondered where this had gone. How’d you guys do?”

“Second place,” I tell her and follow her back out to the hall. She stands on the step stool and hangs the piñata back up. It sways back and forth and almost bonks her on the head.

“That’s great,” she says, ducking. “Hey, how did the muffins go over?”

I don’t have the heart to tell her that someone stole them. “Great. All that was left were crumbs.”

“Good.” She folds up the stool and goes back to making dinner. I grab my bag and run up to my room. I desperately want to squeeze in a shower before the pizza comes. I need to talk to Dad, too. The doorbell rings just as I hide the purple tube of Breast Boost in the nightstand. No shower for the sweaty and stinky, apparently.

“Josie,” Dad calls up. “Come on down.” I quickly throw off my white t-shirt and put on the new red one with the few, the proud, the leapers on it. It seems appropriate. I head downstairs, where everyone is gathered by the door. The pizza boxes are sitting on the landing of the stairs, so I carefully step over them.

“Hurry, Josie,” my mother says when she sees me. “We’ve been waiting for you.” The Domino’s guy has a paper scroll open in his hands. I had forgotten about this part. He clears his throat.

“May this very special day bring you four more years of good tidings, good health, good friends, and good pizza. Happy Leap Day Birthday from Domino’s.”

He rolls up the scroll, hands it to me, and says, “See you in four years.”

Dinner goes like this: Free pizza on the good china. Side dish of french fries and a bowl of vanilla ice cream for dipping, which Mom usually dissuades me from doing, but on my birthday allows. Grandma asks Grandpa if he really needs that second glass of whiskey. Grandpa asks Dad how his mutual funds are doing. Dad says fine and throws me pleading glances that I read as
Please don’t say anything about today.
Mom asks me if I feel older, and I say that I’m beginning to. Rob is quiet and doesn’t speak to anyone except to ask for more pizza. Dad asks Grandma if she’s remembering to take gingko biloba for her memory. Mom asks Rob if any of his friends have heard back from the colleges they applied to. He grunts and shrugs.

Mom and I clear the plates and pile them on the counter by the sink. “So,” she says, pulling on her yellow gloves. “I hear you had quite the adventure this afternoon.”

“The scavenger hunt? Yeah, it was pretty crazy.”

“No, I mean with your dad.”

I nearly drop the plate I’m holding. “When did he tell you?” “Just before you came home.”

“Do Grandma and Grandpa know?”

She shakes her head and leans in close. “And don’t tell them. He’ll do it when he’s ready.”

Dad ducks his head in the kitchen. “Who’s ready for presents?” Hey, I don’t need to be called twice when presents are being offered. I pull him aside on our way into the den.

“Are we going to talk about this?” I whisper.

“Tomorrow, okay, honey? It’s been a long day.”

I’m slightly disappointed that he doesn’t want to confide in me. “Okay.”

“I’m very proud of how well you helped today. If you want a job in my department over the summer, I’m sure you’d get it.”

“Hopefully I’ll be Snow White, remember?”

“Yes, of course. Well, c’mon, these presents aren’t going to open themselves.”

I sit on the den couch like a queen on the throne, and one by one people hand me presents. I should turn sixteen more often. This is what I get: Rob gives me an assortment of car stuff, including a mini Dustbuster, a portable cup holder (the Shark is so old there isn’t one built in), a battery-operated radio (the Shark only gets AM), and a pair of sunglasses so that, as he put it, I can at least try to pass for cool. My parents give me sixteen-dollar gift certificates to The Gap, Express, Old Navy, Taco Bell, and Mobil Gas. I know money is tight, and I hadn’t expected anything from them after the key to the car this morning. Grandma surprises me with a pink-and-white box from Victoria’s Secret. Inside is a pair of beautiful red silk pajamas that slide through my fingers like butter. According to the card, every sixteen-year-old should have a pair of silk pajamas. How cool is Grandma?

Mom agrees to let me take a quick shower before dessert, so I scoop up all my new goodies and deposit them on the bed on top of all my school stuff. I can’t wait to wear the pajamas tonight. So that I don’t forget later, I take a minute to send off an email to Niki. It must be my lucky day because her name comes up on my IM buddy list.

Josie229:
Happy Leap Day Birthday! My boobs thank you for the gift!

Nikster:
Uh, sorry. This is Niki’s dad. Let me go get her.

I stare at the screen. NOOOO!! I want to crawl under my desk.

Her name disappears from my buddy list before I can respond. I’m about to head to the bathroom when Grandma appears at my door.

“I have one more gift for you,” she says, placing a small green velvet box in my hand.

My mom once told me the smaller the box, the better the present. She’s definitely right this time, because inside the box is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. The band is gold and the rectangular stone is purple. When I tilt it, the light refracts in the stone.

“Is this really mine?” I ask, searching her face.

She nods. “The stone is an amethyst. Try it on.”

I lift the delicate ring out of the box and slip it on. It’s a little big, but if I don’t shake my hand too much it stays on. Grandma sits at the end of the bed and I sit down next to her, unable to take my eyes off the ring.

“When I was sixteen,” she says, “my grandmother gave me that ring. Now I’m giving it to you.”

“But I’ve never seen you wear it before.” I hold it closer to my face. It looks brand new.

“I only wore it until I got married. Then I put it away for my own granddaughter until her sixteenth birthday. Maybe you’ll do the same.”

I can’t even form a picture in my mind of me with a granddaughter. “What if I never have one?”

“You will,” she says, stroking my hair.

“I think I need a boyfriend first, Grandma.”

She laughs. “You’ll have a few of those too. I better let you take that shower or your mother will scold me for holding up dessert.”

She gives me a big hug and I thank her for the ring.

“It brings all good things to the wearer,” she says as she leaves me. I tilt my finger and watch the reflection of my room reveal itself in the surfaces of the ring. This is the nicest gift anyone has ever given me. I check the clock. It’s already 8:00! I hurry into the bathroom, throw off my clothes, and jump in the shower. I have to be careful not to get my hair wet since I don’t have time to dry it again. Taking two showers in one day is unusual for me. But this whole day has been unusual, so it seems only fitting.

I feel revived after my shower. Back in my room I throw on jeans and my leaper shirt again. My hair gets a quick brushing, lipstick is smeared on, ring glints on my finger, and I’m ready to go.

Rob comes in to get me, sent by Mom. He sits down on the end of the bed, right where Grandma had been. He almost never comes all the way into my room like this. The whole pinkness issue.

“I wanted to apologize for getting so mad this afternoon,” he says. “It really wasn’t about the stupid Dart Wars.”

I walk over and stand in front of him. “What was it about, then?”

He doesn’t answer, just pulls at the hair on his legs, a habit that

I’ve never understood. “Anne broke up with me today.”

My mouth falls open. “Are you serious? I saw you guys at lunch and everything seemed great.”

He shakes his head. “She broke up with me in the parking lot.” “Why? I thought you guys were so happy together.”

“We were,” he says. “At least I was. She said it was getting too serious. I think Sherri Haugen’s whole baby thing freaked her out.”

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I called her and she didn’t pick up. She hasn’t called back.”

I reach over and put my hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry.” He just nods. Then he asks, “Where did you get that ring?”

I lift up my hand and let the stone catch the light again. “From Grandma. It used to be hers.”

“I thought maybe some guy at school gave it to you.”

That stops me in my tracks. “What guy would give me a ring?” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“We better go down now,” I tell him, walking toward the door. He nods again but doesn’t move. I leave him and go downstairs. I think it’s going to be a long time until some guy gives me a ring. My eyes open wide when I see the dining room table. The whole thing is covered with cakes and pies and cupcakes. Enough to feed an army. An army with a big sweet tooth. When I get closer I see there are birthday candles stuck in each one, but they’re not lit yet. My mom has a big grin on her face.

“Mom, who’s gonna eat all this?”

“Your friends will help when they get here. We can freeze the rest.”

I try to figure out how I’m ever going to come up with enough wishes when from the kitchen I hear Grandpa boom, “And you’re going to support your family on
that?
That’s absurd!”

“Oh, hush, Harold,” my grandmother says. “Let him do what he wants.”

In response to Grandpa’s comment Dad says loudly, “It’s none of your business how I support my family.”

“It sure as heck will be my business when you can’t come up with the mortgage because you’re off making happy with the tourists!”

Mom and I exchange horrified looks. Dad and Grandpa may not be very close, but I’ve never heard them yell at each other before.

Just then the doorbell rings. “Saved by the bell,” Mom says, and goes to answer it. Katy, Zoey, and Megan pour in, followed, oddly enough, by Zoey’s brother, Dennis, who glances around awkwardly. The girls notice my new ring right away and cluster around to admire it. Zoey tilts her head slightly toward her brother and whispers, “He’s our ride.”

Rob comes downstairs. He sees Dennis and says, “Hey.”

“Hey,” replies Dennis, before quickly looking away again. Mom announces we all have to sit around the table for dessert. I can still hear Dad and Grandpa arguing in the kitchen, although they’ve lowered their voices.

“Uh, we really have to go, Mom,” I tell her, pointing at my watch.

“We have a few minutes,” Megan says. “You can’t miss dessert on your birthday!”

“Thank you, Megan,” my mother says, putting her arm around Megan’s shoulders.

“Yeah, thanks, Megan,” I whisper as we gather around the table. I really don’t want to deal with my family fighting while my friends — and Zoey’s weird brother who I’ve never said more than ten words to — are here. Dad and Grandma come out of the kitchen with strained smiles on their faces and greet everyone. Grandpa isn’t smiling at all. Mom leans over the table and lights all the candles with one of those long automatic lighters you use to light a grill. She switches off the lights and everyone sings “Happy Birthday.”

“Make a wish,” my friends clamor. “Make a wish!”

“But there are ten candles!” I seriously cannot come up with ten wishes. “I have an idea,” I announce. “Everyone get in front of a candle and at the same time we’ll all make wishes.”

“Are you sure, honey?” Mom asks, her old guilt at giving birth to me on Leap Day resurfacing.

I nod. “Okay, everyone close your eyes, make a wish, and blow.” Eyes shut all around the table except for Grandma and me. Grandma winks at me and then closes hers. It’s weird that I’ll never know what they are all wishing for. Ms. Connors once told us that ninety-five percent of the time that we think we know what someone is thinking, we are wrong. I close my eyes and wish that I never forget this day, my last Leap Day birthday as a teenager. Who knows, I could be alone for my twentieth in four years. Just me and the Domino’s Pizza guy, who no doubt will find me wherever I am. I blow out the candle and watch the other ones go out around me. Everyone claps.

Mom makes us each a plate of assorted desserts, giving Megan the biggest plate of all. Once we’ve scarfed down the food and my friends have dutifully answered every question put to them by my parents, Mom says, “Oh no, we forgot the piñata!”

“Can’t we do it tomorrow?” I ask, edging toward the door. It’s embarrassing enough that I have a piñata and I’m not in kindergarten, but to have everyone watch is just too much.

“Come on, Josie,” Katy says, picking up the Wiffle bat that is leaning against the wall. “Take a whack at it.”