I’m armed with a notepad and pencil, but my brain can’t form a thought. All my words are mushed together in my head like one giant pile of melted gummy worms.
I lie there on the floor beneath the slowly whirring ceiling fan. When it’s this hot, what’s the point of even having fans? All they do is push hot air around. “Miss Flora Mae, can I ask you a question?”
She swivels in her chair to face me and slides her glasses down her nose, lowering her gaze. “Let’s hear it.”
“Why did you get Bette Davis stuffed after she died? Doesn’t it just make you even more sad to be constantly reminded that she’s not here?”
“That cat.” She chuckles. “That cathatedme, but outside of myself, she was the love of my dear husband’s life. So he’s actually the one who got her stuffed.” She pulls up her sleeve to reveal a long scar across her forearm. “You see this thing? This was her parting gift the last time I gave her a flea bath.”
I’ve got a few battle scars from Cheese too. Bette Davis looked like a pretty tough cat, but it sounds like she really belonged to Miss Flora Mae’s husband. “But why do you keep her when your husband...”
“When he’s dead too?” She shrugs and leans back in her chair. “Sometimes it’s important to do things for the people you love even when those things don’t make a lick of sense to you.” She shakes her head. “I hated that dang cat, but I loved her, too, because he loved her.”
Bette Davis makes me think of my mom and Sam and my dad and his new business. I want to be excited about the things they’re excited about, but it’s hard when you feel like you’re the past and they’re looking toward the future. It also makes me think of Oscar and how things might change between us with Kiera back in my life and him signing upfor wrestling and maybe making new friends. But I can’t imagine any version of Oscar I wouldn’t want in my life.
I stand up and grab the handle on Miss Flora Mae’s desk drawer. “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
I open the drawer and fish out the red cat-eye glasses without lenses and put them on like I’m suiting up for battle. “Okay if I turn on some music?”
“Please,” she says.
I skip back to the plant room and turn up the radio all the way.
Back on the screened-in porch, Miss Flora Mae says, “Oh, yes! The Isley Brothers!”
I bob my head to the music and lie down on my stomach to study the blank pages of my notepad before closing my eyes to let my thoughts slowly begin to thaw into something I can express into words. The Isley Brothers swirl in my head, singing about loving the one you’re with, and I think this scheme might take more than a letter.
That night, me, Mom, and Dad all have pizza at Mom’s house. We talk more about Dad spending the summer in Connecticut and how Grandma will probably move down here and live with him in his new apartment.
Cheese purrs at my feet, head butting against my shins, in the hopes that he’ll get a scrap of pepperoni.
The three of us finish the entire pizza, and Dad even hangs out for a little while and Mom doesn’t complain when Dad and I flip the channel over toGhostbusters.
I know there won’t be many more times when it’s just the three of us, and I know my world is about to get bigger in every way—Mom dating, Dad moving, and me starting eighth grade—but maybe part of growing up means letting people and places change so you can find new ways to love them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lip-Synching for My Life
I sit on the porch Tuesday morning, waiting for the paper to be delivered. I’m all nerves like I have been the past few weeks, but this time there’s a new determination in the air. The moment it lands at my feet, I hop on my bike and tuck it under my arm.
Oscar’s house is only a ten-minute bike ride away, but I make it in seven.
I run up the steps to the front door and ring the bell twice.
When no one answers, I try again.
Eventually Jorge stumbles to the door in his sleep shorts.
He doesn’t even let me get a word in before he shouts,“Oscar, Sweet Carrots or whatever you call her is here to see you!”
“It’s Sweet Pea,” I mutter, but he’s already going back to bed. “I know you know my name!” I shout.
High schoolers! So rude!
After a few minutes, Oscar appears at the door wearing a Valentine Junior Varsity Wrestling Team T-shirt.
