“Did you?” I asked.
“Sure.” Eli laughed. “That was safer than where some girls wanted me to sign. And before you even ask, no, I didn’t sign any of those places. I can’t believe how insane fame is. I’ll be glad to get home and forget all about Rocky, and just be boring Eli again.”
“Boring? You? No way.”
“I’d make a great accountant. I’m not cut out for this whole fame thing, being fussed over like a celebrity. It’s not just strangers, either. Can you believe my brother actually asked me to send him a signed photo for his girlfriend?”
“You can’t mean arrogant, stuck-up Chad. Do you have a brother I don’t know about?”
“Only Chad. Since I made it on TV, he’s suddenly noticed I exist and actually seems proud of Little Bro.”
“About time he appreciated you.” Then I realized what else Eli had said. “Chad wanted your autograph for his girlfriend? But Leah is so not the fan-girl type.”
“Not Leah. Chad has a new girlfriend.”
“He broke up with Leah?” I’d spent some time in Leah’s perfect body, living her not-so-perfect life, and I remembered how much she loved Chad.
“Actually I think Leah broke up with him, but Chad didn’t say. He never does, he just finds a new girl. When I started to sign my real name, Chad said ‘no, write Rocky.’ I guess that’s an improvement over him calling me Dufus or Geekwad — but Rocky isn’t who I am. I got my fifteen minutes of fame but it was like living someone else’s life.”
“I know how that feels. Exactly.”
“I give you kudos for doing it not once — but three times. You’re amazing.”
“Insane is more like it,” I said with an ironic chuckle. “At least I didn’t switch into someone famous like this other Temp Lifer I met once, who couldn’t go anywhere without being mobbed. You can have fame … ” I paused, then added wickedly, “Rocky.”
“Don’t call me that! And I’m not famous. No one ever remembers the singers who get kicked off. I’m just relieved it’s all over now and I can go back to my home and school. This is the first spring vacation that I can’t wait to end.”
“But it was pretty awesome,” I admitted. “And to me you’ll always be Eli.”
After that our conversation turned silly and sweet and all about us again. Talking to him made Dark Lifers and lost graves seem unimportant. We were all that mattered, sharing thoughts and feelings and hopes for when we were together again.
Tomorrow night, he’d return to his real life.
And soon I’d be joining him.
As Amber.
* * *
I didn’t accomplish much the rest of the day, although I did finally hear from my grandmother. Sounding frantic enough to pull out all her (my!) hair, she complained about my sisters’ lack of zoo etiquette.
“I gave them strict rules,” she complained. “I told them we were playing a game of ‘Follow the Leader’ and that I was the Leader. They promised to do everything I said. But when I tried to organize them in alphabetical order, they wouldn’t hold each other’s hands. When I offered to buy them healthy snacks, they screamed that they wanted cotton candy and sodas. One would use the restroom, then minutes later another one had to go. And they whined about being too tired to walk. I explained the importance of behaving like proper young ladies, only they completely ignored me!”
“They’re babies — not young ladies,” I reminded her. “You can’t expect them to be perfect.”
“Oh they were perfect all right — perfect little monsters! Olive climbed into the flamingo enclosure and chased the flamingos to grab their feathers!”
“Pink is her favorite color,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“But that wasn’t even the worst! When I took the girls to the restroom for the third or tenth time, they unraveled rolls of toilet paper and ran around me until I was covered like a mummy.” Grammy’s voice broke. “My own grandbabies TPd me.”
This time I did laugh. “They’ve done it to me, too.”
“But I was sure I could handle them better than your mother. Now I’m not sure of anything — except your sisters have been banned from the zoo.”
“Mom does okay,” I said. “She gets support from her Mothers of Multiples group. She doesn’t believe in being too strict or get stressed when the girls mess up because she believes they’ll learn more from making mistakes then from doing everything exactly right. Mom says being organized is great in theory but a little disorder strengthens character.”
I was repeating what Mom had told me when I was going through a rough time adjusting to not being the only child anymore. For a while, I’d had this love-hate thing with my sisters. So much had changed, too quickly — moving from a lake condo to the suburbs, sharing my parents, and money suddenly being tight. I’d blamed the triplets for ruining my life. But I got over that when I realized that no one can ruin my life without my permission (advice from
Grammy had grown silent on the other end of the phone. When she spoke again it was in a subdued voice. “I owe your mother an apology.”
“You do?” I asked, surprised.
“I never told you, but I was completely against your mother having any more children. You and I were always so close, and I was more worried about your feelings than my own daughter’s. When she asked for a loan for the fertility treatments, I refused. I said awful things about her mothering skills and warned her that if she went ahead with her crazy plan, not to look for any help from me … and she never did.” Grammy’s voice broke. “When I saw those beautiful baby girls, I wanted to tell Theresa how proud I was of her and that I was sorry. But I kept putting it off — then I died.”
“Mom still loves you. She couldn’t stop crying at your funeral.”
“I know — I was there. I tried to reach her through dreams and signs but she didn’t notice. And now that I’m with her, if I told her the truth, I’d break Temp Lifer rules.”
“And seriously freak Mom out,” I added wryly.
“Theresa was always easily shocked.”
“Finding out your daughter is actually your dead mother would be shocking.”
“I know.” Her sigh carried through the phone, soft and wistful. “Being with my Terry again has been a wonderful gift, and I can’t complain.”
“Still, it’s got to be hard, too, when you can’t say what’s on your mind.” I meant this in more ways than one as I tried to work up the courage to tell Grammy about Gabe. But with her confession about Mom and the whole TPing thing, this wasn’t the right time to mention my secret meetings with a Dark Lifer. I’d call her back tonight.
The rest of the day was quiet, mostly because Mrs. Perfetti had as much life as a zombie. She alternated between sleeping and watching TV, taking time out only to share a pizza with me. Her depression worried me, but at least she wasn’t ranting about the devil or hiding under furniture.
Exhausted from my previous late night with Gabe, I fell asleep early. I dreamed that a giant woodpecker was tapping on my brain.
When I jerked up in bed, I was relieved that it had only been a dream and that giant woodpeckers didn’t exist.
Then I heard it:
I looked at the window and saw a shadowy figure right outside it.
With a start, I jumped back, ready to run and call 911. But when the shadow waved an arm in a “come here” gesture, I recognized the broad shoulders, wavy hair, and cap.
Gabe!
My emotions surged forward like a wild thrill ride that I couldn’t wait to take. I hurried over to the window
