Chapter 4
INDIA
When I go back inside, I find Juliet lying on our ugly red couch, her head in Aurora’s lap as Aurora strokes her hair. She’s still sniffling, but the tears seem to have stopped, and when I glance into the kitchen, I see with great relief that the dirty dishes are piled in the sink rather than all over the counters.
The house will smell like cupcakes for the next week, but I think we’ve emerged on the other side of the emotional baking crisis—just in time for me to start my own batch of baked goods, or maybe go on a good long run. Because thanks to Felix, now I’m the one in emotional distress.
Don’t think about that right now, I tell myself.
I give Aurora a fleeting thumbs up before sitting down at the other end of the couch, patting Juliet’s leg gently.
“How’re you feeling?” I say.
Juliet casts a sheepish glance at me. “Better,” she says. Her hair, the same blonde as Aurora’s, is stuck to the side of her face, and her nose is pink, her eyes still watery.
The three of us don’t look as much alike as we could, even though Juliet and Aurora have the same long, blonde hair. Juliet has the lean frame of a dancer, slim but fit, and everything about her is sweet—from her freckles to her dimpled smile to the unending kindness that basically shines from her eyes.
Aurora, on the other hand, has never been called sweet, although she can be. She’s a couple inches taller than Jules and me, with stronger features, and she exudes a sense of self-confidence I think I was born without. She’s the fire to my water and Cyrus’s earth.
The element Juliet most resembles is cotton candy.
“Did you get rid of all the cupcakes?” Juliet says now—when I arrived home earlier she wasn’t coherent enough for conversation.
“Yep,” I say. “I got some complaints that there was no chocolate. People liked the sprinkles, though.”
Juliet nods vigorously. “Sprinkles are my favorite.” She pauses and then covers her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, ” she wails. “I was just so worried about finding another job and it was stressing me out?—”
“And you’re on your period,” Aurora says.
I frown at her.
“Well, she is,” she mutters with a knowing look at Juliet’s outfit—a tank top and sweatpants, her go-to monthly lounge clothes and a far cry from her usual sweet, feminine attire.
“I am,” Juliet says in a miserable little voice. “It was a perfect storm.”
“You’ll find another job,” Aurora says now, still stroking Juliet’s hair absently. “There are other dance studios around. We’ll help you look. You can apply to some places in Boulder too if need be.”
I nod and give her ankle a quick squeeze. “It will be fine, Jules.”
“I know,” she says with a sigh. She sniffles again. “I’m just worried.” Her eyes dart to me. “Is Cy mad? He sounded so annoyed on the phone.”
“Cy always sounds annoyed,” Aurora says with a snort—she and Cyrus butt heads constantly—and I nod.
“Cy does always sound annoyed,” I say. “But he’s fine. He says thank you for the cupcakes.”
Aurora shoots me a skeptical look, which is spot on, because in no way did Cyrus thank anyone for anything.
But he would have, if it would have occurred to him to vocalize his feelings. He’s not a barbarian. So I’m sticking to it.
“Let’s get up,” I say, standing. “Let’s go somewhere or do something. Come on. It’s what Agnetha and Anni-Frid would do.”
Aurora begins humming “Dancing Queen” at the mention of ABBA’s female members, and I hum along. We were raised on Their Royal Highnesses Agnetha and Anni-Frid—their male counterparts too, I guess—and ABBA accounts for at least half of what we listen to.
I hold my hand out to Juliet, because it’s not good for her to wallow here. “Come on. Let’s go see Mom and Dad, okay? They leave tomorrow morning.”
Juliet’s lip trembles as she takes my hand and muddles to her feet. “I’m going to miss them so much,” she says as fresh tears well in her eyes.
“I know,” I say, wrapping my arms around her and patting her back gently. “So let’s go see them, okay?”
My phone buzzes in my shorts pocket; with one arm still around my sister, I use the other to dig out my phone.
It’s a text from Aurora, who—now that I look—is frowning at me from the couch.
Aurora Borealis
You’re going to upset her again!
Me
We’re all going to be sad when they leave. They’re going to be gone for almost a year. It’s fine.
I send my text one-handed and then glance back at Aurora. Her frown fades into something more uncertain as she reads; then she looks up at me, biting her lip.
I nod, and she shrugs.
“All right,” she says with a sigh, and she stands up too. “Let’s go, I guess. But after that,” she adds severely, “we’re doing something fun.”
We all slip our shoes on and then head out the front door. Aurora and I are already halfway to Aurora’s car when I realize Juliet isn’t with us; I turn around to see her still on the porch, a curious frown on her face as she sniffs the air.
“I smell cologne,” she says when we look at her. “It smells good.” She spins on the spot, sniffing some more, and then tilts her head at me. “Has a hot guy been here?”
Mom
MY DEAREST CHILDREN, YOUR FATHER AND I ARE SO EXCITED TO BEGIN OUR TRAVELS!!! HERE ARE SOME THINGS FOR YOU TO REMEMBER WHILE WE’RE GONE!!!
Me
You don’t have to use all caps, Mom. It makes it sound like you’re yelling at us.
Mom
HOW DO I TURN THE CAPITAL LETTERS OFF???
Dancing Queen Jules
It’s right there on the keyboard!!
The little arrow that points up.
Mom
HANG ON LET ME ASK YOUR FATHER!!
HE SAYS WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT CAPITAL LETters are fitting!
We figured it out!!!
Me
Well done!
Aurora Borealis
It hurts.
Mom
Where is Cyrus??? Cyrus are you here???
Cy
Yes
Mom
Wonderful!!!
All right then, first things first. We LOVE YOU ALL and will miss you SOOOOO much!!
But we are so excited to take the trip we’ve always dreamed about. We’re paying for internet and service everywhere we can, so don’t ever worry that you won’t be able to get a hold of us!!!
Aurora Borealis
You don’t have to use all that punctuation either, Mom.
Mom
I am a punctuated person!!!
Second thing: We’re working on finding a short-term tenant to stay in the house while we’re gone. Please be very kind and welcoming when he/she/it moves in!!!
Me
Is there going to be an “it” in my childhood bedroom?
Mom
You never know these days!!!
Juliet if you could check on the plants every now and then that would be wonderful???
Dancing Queen Jules
I will!!
Me
Make sure you send us lots of pictures! We can set up a Google Drive so you can drop them there
Aurora Borealis
Bold of you to assume Mom and Dad can work the cloud
Mom
We will look up a tutorial tonight before we go to bed!!!
Cyrus, please look after your sisters!!
Cyrus???
Cy
I will
Mom
India please have Poppy make sure Cyrus looks after you all!!!
Me
Will do, but we’ll be fine, Mom.
Mom
Of course you will!!! You are strong, intelligent, well-adapted children!!!
We leave for the airport tomorrow morning at six!!! Cyrus I expect you to be there or to come by this evening so we can say goodbye!!!
Cy
Okay
Mom
WE LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!
It is not fun, the “something fun” we end up doing after going to say goodbye to our parents—who are leaving tomorrow morning to embark upon their ten-month round-the-world cruise. Our “fun” is a movie at Lucky’s historic theater, an action film that came out months ago.
We only end up here because we let Aurora pick, and she didn’t want to admit that she was close to tears after saying goodbye. So instead of going home and crying normally like me and Juliet would do, we’re all crying here in the theater instead, watching things blow up in high def.
“I’m going to bed,” I say as soon as we get home. It’s been a long day, full of way too much sugar and a lot of emotions and—an irritable little buzz dances over my skin—a deal with Felix Caine that will be a supreme test of patience and will.
I can’t believe he’s holding the Pageant Incident over my head. In fact—I frown—how did he even know about that? How did he figure out that was me?
“That’s wildly humiliating,” I mutter as I climb the stairs, pushing those memories away. “At least he doesn’t know about the article I wrote.”
Yet.
But he’s working at the Four-Leaf Gazette, and now he’s making me help him research. How long before he mentions my name casually and someone tells him I interned there? And then what if he wants to read the stuff I wrote? And then what if he finds out?—
Stop it. He’s not going to find out anything. He’s not going to mention your name, and even if he did, no one is going to remember you interned there. If someone did remember, Felix still wouldn’t care about reading your old articles.
So there. I’m safe.
I don’t know what made me open my mouth and tell him I had a list of things I wanted to do. I don’t actually need his help. My plan is still under development, anyway. It’s been percolating in my mind since my little motorcycle scuffle—since, for a brief second, I genuinely thought I was going to die.
There aren’t a lot of things I regret in my life. But the discontented feeling that sent me on that ride in the first place—it’s grown, evolved, and it’s made me realize that there are a few things I would change.
I love my job at the Pampered Pup, even if it has nothing to do with my degree. I’m happy with my relationships with my family. But after I almost hit that car, I thought it might be time to try some new things—hobbies I’ve always been interested in, places I want to see, maybe even new relationships. I want a husband and a family of my own one day, after all, and they aren’t going to fall out of the sky and into my waiting arms.
Besides, I need something to take my mind off how scary that almost-crash was. I didn’t know I was such a wimp, but I guess I am. So I’m going to knock out my list of things I would regret if I died tomorrow—turn that scary experience into a positive one. And Felix Caine, my blackmailer?
I guess he’s going to help me.