Rule of Three (6 page)

“But do you think I’m crazy to be doing this? I mean, I’m fine with the singing, but the thought of acting still makes me feel like throwing up. And don’t forget, it means competing against Alex and everything.”

“You know what I always say.”

“Never watch a scary movie alone?”

“Not that. Some rules are made to be broken.”

While the cupcakes were cooling, Joey
came to me, making hound-dog eyes and puppy-dog paws, begging me to read
Little Women
.

“Later.”

“That’s what you always say. Never mind. I’ll just read it myself.”

Joey clomped up the stairs before I could stop her. In twelve seconds flat, she was back in the kitchen. “It’s gone!” she said, pointing upstairs. “
Little Women
. It’s not on the shelf over my bed, where I always keep it.”

I’d known all along I couldn’t put off reading Chapter 40 forever, so I was prepared. “Never mind, Duck. I just happened to see a different copy of
Little Women
at my school library, and I checked it out for us. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“But where’s . . . I mean, what about the one we were reading?”

“Just go upstairs and get my backpack,” I said, sounding as bossy as Alex.

Joey shrugged and trudged upstairs, then came trudging back down, dragging the backpack behind her. “This thing weighs ten tons,” she said, handing it over.

“Can I help it if they give us ten tons of homework?” I dug through my pack and wrestled the library book out of the bag.

“Ta-da!” I half sang, trying to make it sound like a whoop-de-do big deal. “Here’s the one I found at the library. It’s a much cooler version of
Little Women.
See? It’s not all musty-old like the one we’ve been reading.”

“But I like the one we’ve been reading. It was Mom’s copy when she was a girl. And before that, it was Gram’s. It’s like a tradition.”

“Yeah, but we don’t even know where that one is, so how about we start a new tradition? This can be like our own
Little Women
. Yours and mine.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t look right.”

“They just made the print bigger so it’s easier to read. See? I’ll be able to read way faster now.” I opened the book to a random page. “‘What do you hate most?’ asked Fred. ‘Spiders and rice pudding.’ ‘What do you like best?’ asked Jo. ‘Dancing and French gloves,’” I said, reading super-fast.

“But look at Jo. That doesn’t even look like her. She doesn’t wear a pink dress like that, and her hair is darker.”

“Joey. It’s just a drawing. Jo looks however you want her to look — in your imagination.”

“Well, it doesn’t even look long enough. What if they cut something out and I miss a part? I don’t want to miss anything. It says ‘abridged edition.’ What does
abridged
mean, anyway?”

Sheesh. I hadn’t counted on Joey being Little Miss Picky. “I think it just means they added notes to help explain stuff,” I said, trying my best to convince her. “Like a bridge, to help you with hard words, you know, stuff like that.” Before Joey could protest any more, I started to read:

“The pleasantest room in the house was set apart for Beth, and in it was gathered everything that she most loved — flowers, pictures, her piano. . . .”

The chapter went quickly, probably because I was nervous and reading so fast. Or maybe it was the abridged thing. Every time I glanced up at Joey, she was hanging on every word of the story, hugging Hedgie to her. Luckily, she seemed to have forgotten all about the other
Little Women
. The real one, where Beth kicks the bucket. In this one, they skip the part where Beth quietly draws her last breath in the dark hour before dawn and all that.

When I was finished, Joey sat back quietly, without saying a word.

Phew. My switcheroo of the
Little Women
books had actually worked. I hadn’t been sure I could fake Joey out, but she didn’t even seem to suspect that anything was wrong. “Did you like that chapter?” I asked.

Joey nodded. She did not even beg me for one more chapter, like she always did.

I was in the kitchen frosting cupcakes
when Mom got home. “Hmm. Looks like another Reel Family Kitchen Cupcake Invasion,” Mom joked.

“Taste,” I said, handing over a bite.

“Mmm, good,” she said, licking her fingers. “You should make these for the cake-off.” A good sign. I have to admit making cupcakes was a bit of a bribe, hoping maybe she’d forgotten about me going banshee at her place of work.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked. I tilted my head toward the next room, where he was watching the news. Mom went into the family room to find Dad.

I could hear them talking in low voices. I leaned my head out of the kitchen and listened at the doorway. “Alex has to realize . . .” “But Stevie just wants to . . .” They were talking about Alex and me.

Alex shuffled into the kitchen, wearing her fuzzy Uggs over her flannel pajama pants. “What are they saying?”

“She speaks!” I said. When Alex is mad, she never talks to me when we’re alone in a room.

My sister looked at me like I was weird. “What are these?” she asked, leaning in to take a whiff of my cupcakes.

“Just a batch of I-Hate-My — um, I mean, just cupcakes. Devil’s food.”

“So, how mad are they?” Alex asked, nodding toward the family room.

“On a scale of We Didn’t Do Our Homework to We Burned Down the House, I’d say halfway in between.”

“Are we in trouble?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know yet. I wish some people would just turn off the TV to make it easier on us eavesdroppers,” I said.

“I know,” Alex agreed, taking a swipe of frosting right off the top of a perfectly iced cupcake.

“Hey!” I said, swatting her hand, and for a second it was just like nothing had happened between us.

“They’re still talking about us, you know,” she reported.

“I know.”

“We’re going to have to face the music.”

“I know.”

“Any minute they’re going to put on the Hat and start making an announcement or call a family meeting or something.”

“I know.”

“Let’s be the ones to go in there first.”

“Good idea. Maybe we’ll get points for going to them for once, instead of them coming to us.”

Alex smiled at me to distract me from her taking another swipe of icing. She headed into the family room. I followed her.

“Kids,” Mom started. “About last night at the studio, we didn’t get a chance to talk —”

“We know, Mom,” I said.

“And we already said we’re sorry,” said Alex, not sounding very sorry. I shot her a don’t-make-it-worse glance.

“Look, girls,” said Mom. “We know you’re sorry, but you have to promise us that this kind of thing isn’t going to happen again.”

“Especially not at Mom’s place of work,” said Dad, the worry lines deepening in his forehead. “She’s got enough to deal with at the studio already.”

Mom massaged her forehead as if she were trying to smooth out her own worry lines. “I just wanted to say, I know I didn’t handle the situation in the best way. But I’d had a long day, and the station manager was on me because our ratings are down.”

“Are they really thinking of canceling the show?” Alex asked, licking the last traces of chocolate from her finger.

“Cool,” said Joey, coming downstairs. “Then we’d be poor like Jo in
Little Women
.”

“Joey, get a clue,” said Alex.

“Never mind that now,” said Mom. “As I was saying, I know I haven’t been available much lately, and I know I expect a lot from you kids, but I need to know that you girls are not going to be at each other’s throats night and day over this play. Stevie, I want you to apologize to Alex. And Alex, if Stevie is serious about trying out for this play, I want you to support her, or to at least let us know that you’re OK with her decision.”

“OK, I am sorry, Alex,” I admitted. “I mean, I didn’t mean to yell or get us in a fight. But I think I have just as much right as you to be in the play.”

“I guess,” said Alex.

“And Stevie, I need you to think hard about your decision. Are you really serious about going out for this play? Have you thought about what it means? Because if you’re going to try for the lead, I don’t have to tell you, it’s a big commitment.”

“There’s more than one part in a play, you know,” Dad pointed out.

I stood with one leg crossed over the other, braiding and unbraiding a chunk of hair. “I know, I know. Look, if anybody knows, I do. I’ve watched Alex and everybody go through it like a million and one times.”

“And what about the big cake-off?” Mom added. “Have you thought about that?”

Alex butted in. “Mom, if she gets a big part in the play, she’s not going to have time for both. Trust me. Mr. Cannon is a bear when it comes to showing up for play practice.”

“I thought we didn’t have the money, with Mom’s show in trouble and everything. For the cake-off, I mean. It costs a hundred dollars just to enter.”

“You have some of your own money, kiddo,” said Dad.

“And maybe you can get some pet-sitting money, and ask Gram and Grandpa,” Mom said.

“Just do your best, Stevie. Mom and I will take care of the rest.”

“Now, you all know, Dad’s got a lot of work on the
Aladdin
sets —” Mom started.

“He’s gotta make a giant magic carpet fly!” said Joey.

“What Mom’s saying is,” Dad continued, “I’m going to be putting in long hours in my workshop. I can’t be in the house all the time, so you kids have to show Mom and me that you can get along —”

“Without Dad around to referee every minute,” Mom finished his sentence.

“Fine,” said Alex, worrying Comedy and Tragedy back and forth on the chain around her neck. “But I know Stevie’s just doing this to bug me. Her heart’s not really in it, and this is really important to me.”

“How do you know what’s in my heart? Mom, I’m not just doing this to bug her, honest! For years, this whole family has been down on me because I’m not into acting like everybody else, then when finally I am . . .” I couldn’t finish. My voice started to wobble.

“OK, OK,” said Mom, holding up both hands. “Truce!”