He pointed to a familiar zombie snowman gift bag sitting on my bed. I grinned as I picked it up and flipped over the tag.
KitKat,
Try not to take this one into the spirit realm, okay?
Love, Grandma
Oscar peered at the note. “Ooh, new camera?”
“I think so,” I said, pulling the box out of the bag. Elapse E-500 was printed across the top in bright yellow letters, along with a ton of words in Hangul. Eagerly, I ripped off the tape sealing the lid. “It’s the latest model! How’d she get it so fast?”
“Mi Jin mentioned an electronics market not far from here,” Oscar said. “Your grandma must’ve gone there this morning.”
A sudden beeping melody caused us both to jump.
“Well, here goes nothing.” I handed Oscar the Elapse and hurried over to the laptop. A message on the screen read: Accept video chat from MonicaMills? I clicked Yes, and a moment later, my mom’s face filled the screen.
“Kat!”
“Hi, Mom.” I smiled back at her, then waved when a pair of bright eyes peered over her shoulder. “Hi, Elena.”
“Elena, sweetie, eat your breakfast,” Mom said, turning away to lift my future stepsister and plop her into her booster seat. “Sorry about that. So!” She leaned forward and gave me an expectant smile. “How’s Seoul? Were you excited to see your grandmother?”
“Yeah, really surprised.” I glanced in the mirror at Oscar’s reflection. He was lying on the bed, pretending to examine the Elapse but eyeing my mom curiously. “We’re having lots of fun. It’s, um . . . it’s too bad you couldn’t make it.”
Mom’s face tightened a little, confirming my suspicion that she’d been hoping Dad and Grandma wouldn’t tell me that she was supposed to come, too. I wondered how many little secrets they’d kept from me in the last thirteen years to protect Mom, and waited to feel the familiar wave of anger at her. But it didn’t come. I just felt disappointed and sad.
And kind of sorry for her. That was . . . new.
“Yes, well,” Mom said, leaning over to pick up a spoon Elena had dropped. “I’m so sorry about that, but it’s just been crazy here lately, you know?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“So Grandma tells me you and your father might be moving back into the old house?” Mom asked lightly. “I bet Trish and Mark will be thrilled to have you back!”
“Actually, Dad and I talked about that this morning.” I took a deep breath. “We’re going to sell it.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh? He and I talked last week, and he said he was leaning toward taking a job in Cincinnati.”
“He turned it down. He said he’d call you tomorrow,” I added quickly, “but that it was okay for me to tell you. He’s staying with the show.”
“Oh! That’s . . .” Mom’s phone buzzed, vibrating next to Elena’s cereal bowl. She glanced at it, tapped at the screen, then smiled at me again. “That’s great! I bet you’re excited. But you’ve both got a few months off until you start filming the next season, right?”
“Yeah.” I shifted in my chair. “We’re going to stay with Grandma until after your wedding, then, we’re, uh . . . we’re going to L.A. with her.”
“That’ll be a fun trip!”
“No, it’s not a trip, not exactly.” I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at the sight of Oscar’s reflection doing a happy dance, waving his arms and bouncing up and down on the bed. “We’re going to look at apartments. Or houses. Just to see if we’d like it there.”
My heart thumped as I watched my mother’s face carefully. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I expected, or wanted. Dad and I had decided this morning that if he was going to stay with Passport to Paranormal, we still needed a home base—but that could be anywhere. And it wasn’t Chelsea, not anymore. I’d still miss Trish and Mark, but they were my online best friends now. My real-life best friend was right behind me, pulling silent, ridiculous faces at me in the mirror. (He’d looked up train tickets between Los Angeles and Portland, where he lived with Lidia, the second I told him about L.A., much to Dad and Lidia’s amusement.)
The only thing that still made Chelsea feel like home was Grandma. And she was moving to L.A. to start filming her production company’s first movie. If Dad and I were going to try to find a new home base, we agreed it was as good a place to start as any.
Of course, I wouldn’t see Mom nearly as often as I would if we moved back to Chelsea. Part of me wanted her to acknowledge that. Maybe even be a little upset about it. Tell me she’d miss me too much to live halfway across the country from me and beg me to reconsider.
But she just brushed her bangs out of her eyes and smiled. “L.A., wow! How are you feeling about that?”
“Pretty excited,” I replied. It was a massive understatement. “You’ve been a few times, right?”
Mom nodded. “With Grandma, when I was little. Loved it—we did all the touristy stuff, Disneyland, everything. I bet it’s changed a lot, though.”
“You can come visit us.” I kept my voice carefully light. “It’d be fun!”
“Of course I will!” Mom said brightly. “As soon as Anthony and I get back from Cancún, we’ll start planning a trip out there.”
And that was it. No protests, no pleading. She was fine with her daughter traveling the world and living in another state. She had Anthony and Elena and a whole new life, and for right now, I only fit in with e-mails and video chats and the occasional visit. That was how much she was willing to try.
Which was fine. Because now I could see the difference between Dad and Mom clearly. They’d both made mistakes—and so had I—but Dad always put me first. Mom put herself first.
And that wasn’t my fault.
Mom and I talked for another fifteen minutes, mostly about a photo shoot she’d just done for the zoo. I
