We placed our treasures in the cart and rolled our way to the checkout line.
I’d done it.
That evening, Mom came out of the kitchen with my pink cake. On top was a tiny ceramic unicorn.
“I love it!” I said. “It’s like a cake and a present in one.”
“I know!” Mom said. “And since you love unicorns so much, I knew it would make you smile.” She kissed the top of my head. “Happy sweet sixteen, my darling.”
I waited until she sliced the pieces of cake and set them on the table. After a few bites, I decided to spring the news on her.
“Mom, I did something today that I think will help us buy more things.”
“Did you find more coupons?”
“Even better. I got a job application at Shelfmart, and I talked to the manager, and he said I could start working on Monday!”
I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
But her face contorted into anger.
“Ava, what were you thinking?” she cried. “You can’t work a job!”
“Why can’t I?”
Mom stared at the table for a moment. Her foot tapped the floor. “Darling, you have a condition. You’re sick.”
“I am?” I asked. “What’s wrong with me?” Did I need a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down? Would I die like the mother of the von Trapp children inThe Sound of Music? My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t breathe. Was I dying already?
Mom looked around the room, as if she was searching for the answer.
“Mom? Am I dying?”
“No!” she said, and her voice sounded high, like a squeaky toy I’d seen a dog chewing in a shopping cart once. “No, no, darling. You aren’t dying.”
“Then what is it?”
She held onto my hand, squeezing it tightly. Her face looked like the man who pretended to be the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. He had the same panic in his voice when he told Dorothy and her friends to pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
He was like Mom.
My heart sank. If she was a lie like the wizard was a lie, then what would I do? I didn’t have a lion or a scarecrow or a tin man to help me. Not even a dog. I didn’t have anybody but her.
“You have something called seizures,” Mom said finally. “One minute you’re fine, and the next minute you fall down and go unconscious. It’s happened since you were small.”
Fear curled in my belly, hot and heavy. This sounded very bad. “Why haven’t you told me before?”
“Because it hasn’t happened in a while.”
“If it doesn’t happen anymore, then I can start working.”
That expression came over her again.Don’t look behind the curtain.
“No, no,” she said. “It doesn’t happen because I keep your life very easy and simple. At the store—it would be too much. You can’t do it. You just can’t.”
She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Darling, we’re doing fine. We don’t have a lot, but we have a house and food and clothes. We have each other. It’s a good life.”
I didn’t believe her. Dorothy got to go on an adventure. So did Mary Poppins. Why couldn’t I?
