“I should go, too,” Roxanne says. “I’m babysitting this afternoon. But after my New York trip, this is what we’re going to do: every chance we can, we’ll come here.” She checks her cell for the time. “Especially around one o’clock.”
I don’t need a full-out explanation to get where Roxanne’s coming from. “It’s Sunday,” I remind her. “He probably has a different ball schedule during the week.”
Roxanne shrugs. “So, we’ll show up here as often as we can.” She takes off, making sure to pass by Wyatt. She tosses him a flirty smile. At least, I think it was a flirty smile.
I walk home and try not to notice that Odelia is ten feet behind me, taking notes.
“Today’s lesson is about poise,” she says. “The objective is—”
“For you to get lost,” I say. “I took a shower yesterday. And this morning. I’ll smell ya later.” I check Odelia’s face to see if she has gotten my joke. She’s not smiling.
Odelia stomps around and plants herself in front of me, shaking a finger like a gym teacher on a mission. “Your stubbornness will get you nowhere. I thought—”
“I’m going home,” I interrupt. “Alone.” I push past and hop on my board. When I’m three blocks away, I turn to make sure she’s not leaping after me like a wild pony. She’s gone, and I’m glad. I know she’s disappointed, but I am not in the mood today to be Odelia’s work-in-progress.
I don’t go to the skate park, but I do ride around town. A warm summer breeze filters through my helmet, and my hair flies out behind me. I like how it feels and remember it was Odelia’s idea to ditch my beanie. I figure I can live with this change. I’m not so sure about the other stuff she has in store for me.
Mom and Dad are in the living room when I come in. They’re huddled together on the couch sharing parental secrets, but from my spot in the kitchen, I can see and hear plenty.
“Don’t give me the hairy eyeball, George,” Mom says. “It’s not like I don’t want to tell her. It’s a difficult situation. The time is never right. It might change her. I love her the way she is.”
Dad takes Mom’s hands in his. “Hon, we can help her get through it. Let’s tell her.”
“Tell her,” I chime in, stepping out from the kitchen.
Mom and Dad look up at me like they’re surprised I live here. They scoot to the edge of the couch.
“Tell her the truth,” I offer. “She’ll listen.”
I know what the big secret is. They’re going on and on about Aunt Winnie behind her back. Aunt Winnie’s been substituting treats and ice cream for a balanced diet for decades and weighs close to 300 pounds. Mom’s been trying to get her to sign up for one of those TV reality shows that force you to lose weight.
“The truth?” Dad spits out.
“Tell Aunt Winnie she’s overweight. It’ll probably save her life.”
“Oh,” Mom and Dad say. Together they sink back into the couch cushions.
In the back of my mind, I think about how I didn’t tell Roxanne about Wyatt. I feel kind of funny about that. But Roxanne won’t end up in the hospital if Wyatt doesn’t notice her.
“Yes, yes, you’re right, sweetie,” Mom answers. “I’ll call Winnie, get everything out in the open.”
Dad’s wringing his hands. “Ellie, we never should have put this off for so long,” he says. He sure is coming down hard on Mom for having a sister who doesn’t eat right.
As I go to leave, Mom pulls me in for a random hug. I wiggle out of her grip, and she hands me a basket of clean laundry to carry upstairs. She reaches for her needlepoint project and begins yakking away at her supplies. “Come on, needles and threads, you have a date with lilies and primroses, and I have a date with the telephone.” When I’m halfway up the stairs, she calls, “Bernie, I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Martin called. She told me she won’t need your gardening skills for a while. A persistent salesgirl came to the house and sold them a swimming pool and a hot tub. Isn’t that lovely? Lois has been bugging Bud for years for a pool and a tub, and all it took was a princess with a pitch.”
“Princess with a pitch?” I ask, not sure I heard her right.
“That’s how Lois explained it. The pool company is called Princess Spa. Their salespeople dress up like princesses. Who can resist a princess?” Mom continues. “Anywho, their entire yard will be a disaster for weeks. When the pool builders are finished and the new landscaping is in, they’ll give you a call. I hope we’ll be invited to a hot tub party. What a bubbly good time that will be!”
That princess couldn’t possibly be Odelia, could it? But come to think of it, she was irritated that I weeded gardens. Maybe getting our neighbor to dig up her yard and install a pool was Odelia’s way of taking my job from me. How far will she go to get me all to herself? I have a sneaky suspicion it’s pretty far. And that makes me bubble a lot!
***
Practically Not Perfect in Every Way
Odelia’s not giving up on me anytime soon. I know this because the very next day she’s waiting outside my bedroom, dressed in purple princess gear from tiara to toe, pink notebook in hand.
“Who let the princess in?” I ask.
“Your back door was unlocked. I wandered in here by myself.”
“I’m on my way out,” I tell Odelia. “And I. Have. Showered. Aren’t you thrilled?”
“I am thrilled!” Odelia says, gliding past me and parking her bustled butt on my bed. She sits there, straight and tall, picking
