“Wiener takes all!” I said, and yanked my arm out of the crane machine, my fist clenched around a hot-pink stuffed elephant.
“Oh my gosh! Youfoundthat?”
She and I spent the rest of the morning checking every machine for tickets, loose change, gumballs, and whatever other treasures we might find. When we came up with nothing else, I offered her the elephant and she took it.
On the way home, I told Dad that I felt bad because I really wanted to keep the elephant and didn’t actually want to give it to Kiera, but I felt like the nice thing to do was to at least offer it to her.
“But you gave it to her anyway?” he asked. “Right?”
I nodded. “Well, of course.”
“And it didn’t feel entirely good?”
I shook my head.
“Sometimes those are the things that mean the most. When we share or give something that is actually hard to part with but do it anyway.”
I sighed into my chest and mumbled something about him being right.
“Sounds like you might have gotten something in return, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A friend,” he said.
Chapter Seven
Good as Gravy
I collapse face-first next to Cheese on the couch, pressing my cheek into his fuzzy belly. He lets out a loud purr, so I give him a good scratch under his chin.
“You sure you don’t want to go to Dad’s with me?” I ask.
His only response is to paw at my ponytail.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
I think Cheese’s disinterest in staying with me at Dad’s might just be the worst part of this whole deal. Mom says I’m too young to be a cat lady, but I think it’s too late.
Mom sweeps past me as she slips into a pair of wedges and drops a pile of mail on the counter. “Give this to yourfather, would you? It’s his mail. I promised I’d bring it by before I left for book club, but I completely forgot.”
I moan.
She gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, and Cheese swats at her nose.
“Don’t forget his mail. There’s some important stuff in there. And he’s no good at keeping up with papers, anyway.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sweet Pea,” she pauses, waiting for me to look at her.
I sit up and yawn without covering my mouth.
“I know it’s been a week full of changes, but I think if we can just get in the swing of this routine, we’ll be good as gravy.”
I puff out a held breath, blowing my bangs up. It’s not that I want my parents to fight and bicker all the time like normal divorced parents, but something about the way they’re trying to pretend like nothing has changed makes all of this so much harder. It was never my stupid carpet or my bedspread or my wallpaper that made our house a home. It was us. The three of us plus Cheese.
Nothing about this is as good as gravy.
