When I was little Alice in Wonderland was my favorite story. I used to beg my mom to read it to me over and over again. It used to drive Marc crazy.
“I can’t stand that stupid story!” He was particularly crabby one night after dinner. Mom made him eat the shepherd’s pie she made, and he hated shepherd’s pie.
“Listen Marc, your sister loves it, and if you don’t enjoy it, you don’t have to listen.” Mom’s voice was stern.
I cuddled into her chest and listened to her continue reading to me. Marc stomped around the floor like he was wearing cement boots.
Later, when I had brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas, I walked into my bedroom. That’s when I saw the teacup on my pillow. It was the one with the little pink and blue violets pattern on it. The handle was broken clean off. Only one person could have done this, and I knew it was Marc. He must have been so irritated that he went and broke one of my favorite teacups. I took the broken pieces in my hand and buried my face in the pillow, sobbing into the fresh scent of fabric softener.
“Hey,” I heard him call from my doorway.
“Go away!”
“You’re not still crying over that stupid teacup, are you? I didn’t do it on purpose. You leave your stuff all over the place, and I stepped on it.”
I picked my head up from my pillow and glared at him. “You liar! You just did it to be mean. Get out of here!” I returned to my pillow and my sobbing. It was maybe a half hour later — Mom had already turned out the lights and told me she’d fix the teacup in the morning — when I heard him creep into my room.
“Marissa.” His voice was soft.
I didn’t look at him. “What?” My voice was as deep as I could get it for being an eight-year-old girl.
“Come with me. I have something to show you.”
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Please.”
There was something in his tone and my young curiosity that made me go with him. I followed him to the playroom. There, laid out in the middle of the floor, was my red-and-white checkered tablecloth. Four place settings were laid out from my tea set, and at two spots he had sat my Alice in Wonderland doll and my Cheshire Cat.
“What is this?” I was so excited I was biting my bottom lip.
“It’s a tea party,” he said.
I tiptoed over and sat down. Everything was perfect, just how I would set it up. Even the broken teacup was there. It looked like he had used some duct tape to try to get the handle to stick back on.
“Marc,” I looked up at him. He looked so much taller than me, just like a big brother should.
“Yeah?”
“Would you read to me?” I held out my Alice in Wonderland book to him.
He rolled his eyes and took the book from my hand. “Ugh, sisters!” He playfully kicked my foot and sat down next to me.
The banging on the dressing room door jolted me. “Is someone in there?” a girl said as she banged again.
“Yes.” My voice quivered. “Just cleaning it up. I’ll be right out.” I used a fresh paper towel to wipe my tears away.
Thank goodness my shift was coming to end. I clocked out and was walking through the parking lot when I heard a girl yell, “Marc, wait up!”
My heart crept into my throat.
Chapter Six
“Hey, do you think if I stood up on the table and started singing we’d get kicked out?” Zoe dipped her breadstick in marinara sauce. She had called me when I was halfway home. At the mention of Giovianni’s breadsticks, I knew I was going to have to make a detour. Of course, my budget only allowed for breadsticks and water, but it was still an enticing offer.
“The way you sing, I definitely think we’ll get kicked out.” I pulled the cup of marinara sauce over to my side of the table.
Zoe raised an eyebrow at me. “I sing awesome, and you know it.”
“Sure, to a cat’s ears maybe.” I moved out of the way before the straw she threw at me hit me in the head. Even with how bad my night at work had been and my depressing adventure chasing down my brother, who turned out to not even be my brother, it was so nice to be with Zoe. Crazy, kooky, incredibly supportive Zoe. I hardly batted an eyelash when she began to climb up onto the table.
“Sing for cats. I don’t think so,” she said just before breaking out into the chorus of “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid. She was just getting to the line, “What do you call them? Oh yeah, feet.” when the assistant manager came over and helped her down.
“Aw, what if my people demanded an encore?” She batted her eyelashes at Ralph, Giovanni’s son, who was a few years older than us.
He grinned at her for a moment. “I didn’t hear any objections when I stopped you.” He looked around as if waiting for someone to object.
Zoe put her hands on her hips. “You just don’t know raw talent when you hear it.” Then she faced me. “Marissa, my dear, we’re done
