Chapter 2
W hen I made it home that evening, Dad sat glued to the couch watching reruns of The Twilight Zone , the perfect metaphor for life since he’d remarried.
Elizabeth was in the bedroom, which meant it was my chance.
Getting something from the old tightwad wouldn’t be easy, but I was determined.
I sat next to him and laid my head on his shoulder, ready to move my plan into action.
“Daddo,” I said in a childlike voice sure to pull on his heartstrings.
“Hey, Pooh Bear, how was work?”
He used the quirky nickname from my early childhood—perfect! He was malleable. “It was fine, but I missed you.”
“Aww, that’s sweet of you.”
“I don’t see you enough since I went away to college.” I snuggled up to him like a purring cat .
“Well, I’m glad you’re home. Wanna watch this with me?” He stared at the TV, oblivious to my attempt to garner his attention. I’d half expected this. His emotional IQ was rarely higher than room temperature. I pulled out the waterworks. He couldn’t ignore his baby girl crying right next to him.
“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” He finally gave me the look of concern I was aiming for.
“It’s just that …” I wiped a crocodile tear from my eye. “We don’t do anything special together anymore.”
“What are you talking about, sugarplum? We’re getting ready for our first European trip as a family.”
I could tell by the dumb look in his eye I had him where I wanted.
The trick now was not being too obvious or too indirect.
If I asked for Paris straightaway, he’d say no.
If I made a subtle allusion, it might fly over his head.
I had to soften him up to get him to think with his heart, not his pocketbook.
I made sure my lips trembled as I spoke.
“It’s just not the same without Mom.” Bringing up my late mother was such a low blow that I’m ashamed to admit I even tried it. Still, the stakes were too high. Without some serious emotional manipulation, I’d never convince him to fly me to Paris .
Dad’s lips drooped into a heartbreaking frown, and his eyes watered, sending a guilty shiver down my back. “Oh, Wini. I’m so sorry. I wish there were something I could do.”
He nibbled at the bait. Now I just needed to hook him and pull on the line. “Do you mean that, Daddy?”
“Of course I do.”
I looked up at him with my best puppy dog eyes. “Can we go to Paris while we’re in Europe then?”
His face contorted in pain, like I’d just punched him in the man parts. I could almost see his inner miser duking it out with his loving, fatherly side. He took a much longer pause than I’d hoped for—not a good sign.
“Let me talk to Elizabeth about it.”
No! Full panic! Elizabeth would see right through my pretense. I had to act fast. I cooked up some more fake tears and buried my face in my hands.
“But it’s not fair,” I said. “We’re going to Malegonia for Will. Can’t we just make one stop for me?”
Dad chewed his lip and rubbed his stubby goatee. From the sympathetic look in his eyes, I could see I’d won him over, except he was probably too broke to cover a trip to Paris.
“I’d have to work a lot of overtime between now and then,” he said reluctantly .
“You’d do that for me?” I wrapped my arms around him.
Dad frowned and returned my embrace, obviously still conflicted. After a short pause, he sighed. “All right, Sugar Bear. We’ll go to Paris.”
I squeezed him harder, grateful the summer would no longer be a total loss. I had what I wanted, even if I needed a shower to wash away the disgrace.
***
A few days later, I lounged on the couch in the den, paging my way through The Raunchy Wrangler.
My stepmother, however, was determined to annoy me.
She paced back and forth from the den to the kitchen, wearing out the avocado-green carpet and blabbering on the phone to her sister.
I tried to ignore her, as always, but overheard a few details about the trip.
“Weddings can last an entire week in Malegonia,” she said.
I almost shrieked out loud. An entire week! Neil Armstrong flew to the moon in less time. This was bordering on cruel and unusual punishment.
“Will says it might feel a bit overwhelming,” Elizabeth continued .
Great, I already felt like I was drowning.
“Either way, I’m sure it will be magical,” she said.
Magical? A million words in the English language and she used magical to describe this lurking disaster.
I fought back the pain in my stomach and tried in vain to focus on the delightfully trashy novel Karen had lent me.
Elizabeth blabbed on about Malegonia and how it was known for machine-gun bunkers, goat herding, and fighting the Turks—all great reasons never to go there.
She hung up the phone right before Dad came home with a bag of groceries.
I watched through the doorway as he unloaded the food onto the kitchen table.
“When you said pizza, I thought you meant carry out,” Elizabeth said as Dad shoved a frozen Tombstone into the oven—the only thing he could cook besides toast.
“I figured we’d save a few bucks,” he said.
“I guess you’re right. Eating in wouldn’t kill us since we’re going to the ball game tomorrow.”
Dad shifted uncomfortably and took a nervous breath. “About that … I’m going to pick up a shift instead. We could use the extra cash.”
“But it’s Saturday tomorrow. You haven’t worked weekends in years. ”
“I thought I’d surprise you with a few extra days in Paris.” He glanced at me, then back at Elizabeth.
“Honey, you’re so sweet, but we can’t afford that. We barely have the money for the wedding.”
“Yeah, well, since we’re doing something special for Will, I thought it’d be nice to spend some extra time with Wini also.”
My body went stiff, and I buried my nose in the book. Elizabeth was no fool. She’d figure out Paris was my idea. Still, the way Dad presented it, she was stuck in a tough spot. If she tried to cancel Paris, she’d end up the wicked stepmother who ruined summer.
Elizabeth made a discerning glance in my direction. “I wished we’d talked about this, Ralph. Paris will be expensive.”
“I’m sorry, Lizzy Bear. I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
Dad was so loyal. I felt guilty. Not guilty enough to give up on Paris, of course.
“We don’t need to see France,” Elizabeth said. “You’ll wear yourself out working sixty-hour weeks.”
“If it would make the two most wonderful ladies in the world happy, I’d wear myself out anytime.”
Dad meant it too. As lame and quirky as he was, he loved me more than anything. Life was better when I didn’t have to share him, of course, but I never doubted he cared. Part of me was even glad he’d found someone after Mom died. I just wished it hadn’t made everything so complicated.
Elizabeth smiled in a way that made my palms sweat. “I’ve got a surprise also. Will and Irena rented a villa for us on Lake Achris. They want us to stay another week after the wedding, all expenses paid.”
A chill shot down my spine. My perfect plan was circling the drain with no help in sight. Had Will anticipated my scheme and made a preemptive strike? I doubted he could think that far in advance, but I remembered the dork had been captain of the chess team.
“Really?” Dad nodded. “That changes things.”
“But, Daddy, what about Paris?” I said, unable to pretend to read anymore.
“We’ll go to Paris one day, pumpkin, but we can’t pass up a free guest house in an exotic location.”
My heart sank like the Titanic to the bottom of Lake Achris. This was exactly what I didn’t want. The plan was to meet with Karen in Paris and ditch the family. Now I’d be trapped with them an extra week, and in Malegonia, of all places.
“Winifred, you looked disappointed,” Elizabeth said.
“No, I understand,” I lied.
Elizabeth put her arm around me like we were friends, filling my nostrils with her old-lady perfume. “Malegonia is going to be amazing—just wait.”
I smiled outwardly but grimaced inside. She’d won this round, but the fight had just begun.
***
“Winifred, that’s enough,” Dad said, irritated.
I’d tried the subtle approach for over a week, but he’d shown no sign of bending. I was losing patience and decided on a frontal attack once Elizabeth was out shopping. I cornered Dad while he was throwing darts at the board mounted on the basement wall.
“But, Daddy, I don’t wanna go to Malegonia.”
“Half of life is showing up for things you don’t want to do,” he said.
“What about the other half?”
“Most of that, you’re sleeping.” He snorted a laugh.
I frowned, making my displeasure as obvious as possible.
Dad sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I know you had plans to go to Florida with your friends, but family comes first.”
“What about stopping in Paris though? ”
“I want to go, but there were already plans I didn’t know about. Besides, we could never afford it anyway.”
“You always say that,” I chided.
Dad clenched his jaw, obviously annoyed. “Listen, if you want to bum around Europe, save up your money from the pool and do it.”
“You’d let me do that?”
“Sure, you’re old enough.”
“Do I still need to come to the wedding?”
“Of course.”
I groaned and eyed the door to Will’s bedroom. For years I’d looked forward to the day he’d move out. Now that he had, he still managed to kneecap my summer plans.
“Wini,” Dad said. “Most people your age would jump at the chance to go on a trip like this.”
“You never understand,” I said crossly, giving in to frustration. I knew I’d slipped as soon as the words exited my mouth.
Dad put his hands on his hips and spoke firmly. “Listen, you’re going to Malegonia. Will is my wife’s son. Stop driving a wedge through the family.”
My shoulders slumped. I wanted to cry but doubted it would help.
How could he say family ? Will wasn’t my brother—he was the moron who once put dish soap in the washing machine and flooded the entire house with bubbles.
He was the idiot who drove his car into the side of a gas station because he “didn’t see it.
” He was the loser who popped zits onto the bathroom mirror and forgot to clean it afterward. I hated him.
Dad ran his hand through my long hair. “Give this a chance. You might enjoy yourself.”
I dropped my head and marched back upstairs.
***
I spent the next hour sprawled out on my bed, staring at my Salvador Dalí imitation.
Clocks melted over a bleak landscape, and mountains met with the seashore in the background.
I felt certain Dalí had foreseen my rapidly waning summer when he’d painted the original.
I wished Mom had never died. Losing her was hard enough, but playing house with the stepfamily only made the pain fester.
I closed my eyes and wallowed in self-pity.
Karen called. Her perky voice pulled me out of my sleepy gloom. She asked why I sounded so miserable, and I told her about the conversation with Dad.
“Ouch, Wini. He didn’t leave any wiggle room, did he? ”
“It’s a travesty.” I moaned. “Who could endure such a crucible.”
“I hear the writer in your voice. Have you been working on your book?”
She was trying to cheer me up by asking. The book was a still-untitled novel about a girl trapped in a love triangle with a vampire and a zombie, like Twilight , but better and less Mormony. I was almost a hundred pages into the first draft.
“No,” I said. “I’ve been too busy dealing with this tragedy.”
“Well, maybe I can make you feel better. My parents said I can still meet you in Europe.”
“But I’m not going to Paris anymore.”
“Forget Paris—let’s go to Dubrovnik. It’s only a seventeen-hour bus ride from Malegonia. You totally need to ditch the fam and meet me there.”
“Dubrovnik? Where they filmed the Dragon’s Fire movies? You’re going to be there?”
“Yeah. That’ll be way cooler than Fort Lauderdale. Just imagine the Euro hunks on the beach.”
I sat up in bed, a wave of optimism splashing over me. I could almost smell the sea air of the gorgeous Croatian coastline. Dad said if I wanted to bum around Europe, I could do it with my own money. I’d take him up on that the instant the wedding ended.
“Karen, you’re an angel!”