Seraphima throws the window sash up and leans halfway out.“Welcome, welcome, big bright sun—”
I slam the window shut. “No! You might have grown up in a tower, but us peasants? We haveneighbors.” I sigh. “Let’s get you dressed.”
Frump is suddenly alert. I exchange a look with Seraphima and then drag Frump by his collar out the bedroom door, leaving him in the hall. I open my dresser and pull out a bra and underwear. “Try these on,” I suggest.
Seraphima looks at me and then reaches for the bra, draping it over her ponytail and latching it under her chin like a bonnet.
“Not quite.” I wrestle it off her head, and hold it up to my T-shirt to show her how it’s done. “Take off your gown, and putthese,” I say, “overthose.”
For once, she does as she’s told. Then she turns around, smiling. She’s absolutely busting out of my bra.
I sigh. “Ofcourseyour boobs are bigger than mine.”
I reach into my closet for the biggest sweatshirt I can find, the one I wear on my fat days. “Take off the bra and put this on,” I say. “And cross your arms when you walk.”
Then I Skype Oliver, hoping the chimes on his computer will wake him up. He stumbles, bleary-eyed, hair askew, in front of his screen. “Why are you awake?” he asks.
“Because Little Miss Sunshine here is an early riser. If you come over, I’ll cook you breakfast.”
Suddenly Seraphima leans close to my laptop, pressing her hand against the screen. “Oliver!” she gasps. “You’re soflat!”
“Hurry,” I say. “Please?”
At first Seraphima refuses to leave my bedroom, because she doesn’t believe leggings are actually acceptable clothing for women. I manage to entice her downstairs with promises of food. By seven a.m. I have cooked her an omelet, pancakes, bacon, and oatmeal, all of which she has devoured. I’m convinced she is hollow.
My mother comes into the kitchen wearing her Sunday clothes—a flannel shirt and pajama pants. “You’re up early,” she says, surprised to see me. Then her gaze falls on Seraphima. “I thoughtJuleswas sleeping over.”
“Um, no, remember? I told you about Seraphima,” I lie. “She’s the exchange student who’s living with us for a couple of days. We talked about this last week when you were getting ready for your date with Greg. God, you don’t even listen to me anymore!”
“Um—of course I remember,” my mother says. “I just forgot it wasthisweek.” She smiles at Seraphima, speaking slow and loud.“Where . . . are . . . you . . . from . . . dear?”
“She’s Icelandic, Mom, not deaf.”
Seraphima turns to her. “Are you the innkeeper?”
“Innkeeper . . . head of household . . . The words are almost identical in Icelandic,” I interject.
Seraphima holds out her hand. “You are pleased to make my acquaintance.”
My mother laughs. “I am,” she says. “Welcome to America.” She sees Frump curled up at Seraphima’s feet, with his snout resting on her thigh. “Humphrey, shoo!”
“It’s quite all right. Frump and I are old friends,” Seraphima says.
“It’s crazy,” I jump in. “Apparently in Iceland, all dogs are called the same name: Frump. Seems like it would be confusing, but hey. To each his own!”
“How long are you over here, Seraphima?” my mother asks.
“First we have to find a way back into the book—”
“—a ticket,” I finish. “Book a ticket.” I pull Seraphima up from her chair. “We’re off to the mall today. Getting some souvenirs.”
Once I say it, I realize this is a brilliant idea. Seraphima can’t go around in my giant Nantucket sweatshirt forever, and we don’t know how long she’s going to be here. If I want to prevent as many questions as possible, the first step is to at least make herlooklike she fits in.
My mother pours herself a cup of coffee and sits down across from Seraphima. “I’ve always wanted to go to Iceland. I’ve heard it’s beautiful. What’s it like where you grew up?”
“Well, I lived alone in a tower overlooking the ocean,” Seraphima says. “But I could see everything from there—the pirates, the dragons, the mermaids—”
We are saved from imminent disaster by the ringing of the doorbell. My mother answers the door, and Oliver comes inside, his cheeks red from the wind. “Hello, Mrs. McPhee,” he says. “I daresay you look younger every time I see you.”
