But all I could do was shrug. So far, having a big family looked pretty great to me.
Because the most horrible lie was told to me once and I will never, ever forget how it feels.
I can’t even think of any more reasons because thinking about reason #1 makes me so upset.
I can’t remember how old I was, exactly. Six or seven, I think. The four of us, Mom, Dad, Miranda, and I, were all at the kitchen table, eating dinner. Dad had said to Mom, “Wendy, did you hear that Bill and Connie are getting a divorce?”
“Oh, no,” Mom said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Bill and Connie?” Miranda asked. “You mean, Jordan’s parents?”
Mom nodded.
I don’t really remember Jordan the way Miranda does. Jordan babysat us when we were younger. I had a bigger question on my mind, anyway.
“What’s a divorce?” I asked.
“It’s when two married people decide to stop living together,” Mom explained.
“Why?” I asked.
“Usually because they don’t love each other anymore,” Dad said. “But there can be other reasons, too. It’s something you’ll understand better when you’re older.”
I didn’t want to wait to understand, though. I wanted to know right then. Because it didn’t make any sense to me—how you could just stop loving someone? I’d never stop loving my family, I thought. I might get angry at them. But I’d still love them even if I didn’t like them very much for a little while.
“Would you ever get a divorce?” I asked.
“No,” Dad said.
Mom kind of laughed. “We probably couldn’t afford it.”
And then one of them changed the subject and that was the end of that.
But I didn’t forget. When they sat Miranda and me down one rainy Sunday afternoon in February, the two of us on the love seat and the two of them on either end of the sofa, and told us they had decided to separate, it was the first thing I thought of.
“But you said you wouldn’t,” I told them. “When Jordan’s parents divorced, you said that wouldn’t happen to us.”
Dad rubbed his face with his hands before he stared at me, looking kind of stunned. “Wow. You remember that conversation, Juliet?”
“Yes,” I said. “Probably because I was so shocked that a family could stop loving each other.”
“Not a family, honey,” Mom said. “Two married people. There’s a difference.”
I didn’t get how Mom could sit there so calmly. Like she was telling us what chores we needed to do instead of how our family was never going to be the same again. I glanced over at Miranda next to me, but I think she was sort of in shock or something. She just sat there, her mouth open slightly and her forehead all wrinkly.
Mom continued, “Things change sometimes, Juju Bean. There are never any guarantees in life. About anything.”
I don’t think I really understood what she meant. So I kept pushing. “But I asked if it would ever happen to you guys, and Dad said no.”
Maybe he hadn’t said, “I promise,” but it felt like a broken promise—a lie—all the same. A special, invisible promise I’d tucked into a pocket of my heart that was suddenly shattered.
“We want the two of you to know we love you very much,” Dad said. “And that the love we have for you will not change because of this decision.”
“Did we do something wrong?” I asked.
“No, honey,” Mom said. Her eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t do anything. This isn’t about you. Please believe that.”
By then, Miranda was crying, too. “Who will we live with?” she asked. “What happens next?”
And so they told us all the gory details. They were putting the house up for sale. Dad was going to move into a three-bedroom apartment, with enough space for Miranda and me to visit. We would live with Mom most of the time, at Grandma and Grandpa’s beach house in San Diego.
“Why?” I asked as the tears I’d fought back finally won.
Mom got up from her spot, kneeled down in front of me, took me in her arms, and held me while I sobbed.
“Why?” I asked over and over again. “Please tell me. Why?”
“You’re too young to understand,” she whispered. “It’s what we have to do.”
But we didn’t have to. It felt like another lie. And as I ran upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me before I fell onto my bed, I wondered if my entire life had just been one big, fat lie.
* Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
* The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate
* Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
* Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
* One for the Murphys by Lynda Mullaly Hunt
* Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White
As Emma and I headed to my house to get an overnight bag for me, she asked, “Would it be all right if we stopped and said hello to Mr. Button first? I’ve been kind of worried about him since Mrs. Button said he wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Sure,” I said.
So that’s where we went. With the cloud cover long gone, we left our hoodies at home and joined all of the people on the sunny boardwalk.
When we stepped inside the bookmobile, we found Mr. Button sitting in a chair behind the front desk. Mrs. Button was shelving books. When she saw us, she called out, “Back so soon?”
“Yep,” Emma replied. “Hi, Mr. Button. You weren’t here this morning, so we came to see you.”
Mr. Button had lots of gray hair, slicked back, and he wore thick, black-framed glasses. He looked like someone who could teach you important things, like how the universe works and why annoying bugs like fleas exist.
He coughed before he replied, “Been under the weather the past couple of weeks, I’m afraid. Though I’m not contagious anymore. Just have this lingering cough that’s making me a very unhappy man. And you know how much I love being happy.”
“I do,” Emma said before she burst into song, “Don’t worry. Be happy.” Then she motioned toward me. “This is my friend Juliet. She’s new to Mission Beach and will start school with me next week.”
“Wonderful to meet you, Juliet,” Mr. Button said as he got to his feet. “Wait a second. Hold on. What in the world …” I started to turn around because I wondered if someone or something was behind me, but he reached out, slid his hand past and around my ear, and magically, a quarter appeared between his thumb and forefinger.
“I know we’ve only just met, Juliet, but I couldn’t let you walk around with a quarter sticking out of your ear.”
I’d seen the trick on television but had never had anyone perform it on me. He held the quarter out like he wanted me to take it, so I let him drop it into my palm.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling.
He turned around and buried his face in his elbow as he coughed. When he finished, he said, “Boy, I sure do wish this awful crud would go away.”
Emma chatted a bit more with him. She told him we were having peach pie for dessert and that I was sleeping over. When we left a few minutes later, as we walked along the boardwalk toward my house, she said, “I feel so bad for Mr. Button.”
I stopped walking as a big idea hit me. Two girls on Rollerblades whizzed past us.
“What? What’s wrong?” Emma said, stopping a few feet in front of me and turning around.
“He wishes his cough would go away, right?” I said. “Then let’s help make it happen.”
Her face wrinkled up. “But … we aren’t doctors.”
We started walking again as I explained. “I know, but we can make him chicken noodle soup. And try that Vicks home remedy my mom did for me last time I was sick.”
“Huh?”
“I was sick with a bad cold and missed a week of school. She put some of that stinky Vicks stuff on my feet and then made me wear socks all night. It cut way down on the coughing.”
Emma wrinkled her forehead. “I’m so con
fused. What do your feet have to do with a cough?”
“I have no idea. All I know is it worked.”
We reached my house and I got the key that was hidden in the barbecue grill on the front deck. Almost every one of the beach houses has a deck along the front, side, or back of the house. The weather is so nice most of the time, it’s like another room of the house, but with no walls.
“This is so cute,” Emma said when we walked in. Compared to her huge home, it probably seemed like a dollhouse. “Is your sister here?”
“No,” I said. “She’s always training for junior lifeguard tryouts.”
Emma looked around as we walked toward my room. The walls were mostly bare in the family room. Mom had said she wanted to buy some paintings from local artists, so they’d probably be empty for a while.
When we reached my room, Emma let out a squeal at the sight of Casper, who was curled up in the middle of my bed.
“Oh my gosh, I love white cats,” she said as she sat carefully next to him and petted his back. “I’ve wanted one forever.”
“How come you don’t have one?”
“My dad and Lance are allergic.” She leaned down closer and looked Casper right in the eyes. “He’s so pretty. What’s his name?”
“Casper.”
She took out her phone and snapped a photo. Then she turned and looked around the rest of my room, pointing when she noticed my Starry Night poster. “I’ll have to get one of those. If I’m accepted into the club, I mean. By the way, do you think Some Kid will mind if I’m in on this, too?”
I went to the tiny closet and pulled out a small duffel bag. “I don’t think so. What fun is a secret club with only two people?”
“Yeah. Hopefully, you’re right.”
Next, Emma leaned over and picked up the family photo next to my bed. She didn’t say anything.
“That was before,” I said. “Obviously.”
She studied it for a minute before she set it back down. “You’re gonna love it here, Juliet. I know I’ve said that already, but I really believe it. And I want you to believe it, too.”
The way she said it, it was as if she was saying if I loved it here, then I wouldn’t be so sad about my parents splitting up. But I felt like I’d be sad about that for a really long time, even if living at the beach turned out to be wonderful. Sometimes, I think people forget you can be happy and sad at the same time. But the world doesn’t want to see sadness, so we learn how to push it down. Hide it. Keep it a secret. Even though we probably shouldn’t, because everyone feels sad now and then. Why should we be embarrassed about it?
I threw some clothes into the bag. “Once I get a few things from the bathroom, I’m ready to go.”
I grabbed my toothbrush, a hairbrush, my face moisturizer, and the jar of Vicks from the medicine cabinet. Emma now stood outside the bathroom door, so I handed her the blue jar.
“So we can show Mr. Button the magic Vicks trick,” I said as I stuffed my toiletries into my bag. “I think he’ll be impressed. Do you know where they live, though? Like, can we show up at their house with some soup and other stuff and surprise him?”
“Yeah. My mom should know. We can ask her. And we’ll have to go to the store and get the ingredients to make the soup. Do you have a recipe?”
“I’ll check Mom’s recipe binder before we go,” I said.
Emma rubbed her hands together and smiled. “This is so exciting! We’re going to try and make Mr. Button’s wish come true. Clever, creative, and sneaky, that’s us.”
“Don’t forget diligent,” I said. “We have to keep trying. A bad cough probably isn’t going to magically disappear overnight.”
“But, but …” Emma whined, “I’m not that patient! I want him to get well now. Because he deserves it, and so do we.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “But we will be diligent. Because we have to be. Right?”
She smiled. “Yes! Diligent, that’s us.” She chuckled. “And maybe a tiny bit impatient, too. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“Nope,” I replied.
As I flipped through the recipes, she said, “I’ve already checked my email about a hundred times since we threw the bottles in the ocean.”
I side-eyed her. “Emma. Have you really?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “Probably more like fifty times. I said a tiny bit impatient, remember?”
“A tiny bit,” I said. “Riiiiight.”
mad at my parents for splitting up our family.
sad that I’ll never get another book recommendation from Mr. Richie.
in love with Vincent.
obsessed with lists.
jealous of Emma’s big, happy family.
lucky that I got an email from someone who found my bottle!
quirky. Maybe. Probably.
On the way back to Emma’s house, we stopped in at the Frozen Spoon. You can’t really stop in at an ice cream shop and leave without ice cream. This time I got a scoop of chocolate chip mint and a scoop of cookie dough. Mmmm … so good. Along with a delicious, refreshing snack, we got the Buttons’ address and Joanne’s approval to make Mr. Button some soup and take it to him. She even gave us some money for buying the ingredients.
“Should we double the recipe so we can have that for dinner tonight, too?” Emma asked her mom.
“Great idea,” she said. “We already have salad makings, but maybe pick up some French bread to go with it as well.”
“Plus, we’re having peach pie that I helped Lance make,” Emma said. She turned to me. “You’ll have to come over another time and have Mom’s spaghetti. It’s really good.”
“I’d love that,” I said. I knew I shouldn’t be eating every meal with the Rentons, but I mean, who was I to turn down good food? We’d been eating out of cans a lot lately at my house.
We dropped off my bag at Emma’s and then we walked to the market a few blocks away. After we got everything we needed, we went back and put all of the ingredients except the noodles in a big Crock-Pot.
When Mr. Renton came into the kitchen as we were cleaning up, it startled me a little bit. Maybe because I hadn’t met him yet.
“Hi, Em,” he said as he went to the fridge. “How’s it going?”
“Fine. This is Juliet. Juliet, this is my dad.”
He turned around and smiled. His smile reminded me of Emma’s, even though the two of them didn’t really look alike. I mean, he had a lot less hair than Emma, for example. As in, almost none. And he wore wire-rimmed glasses. My dad wears glasses, too. When he got new Nike frames last year, I told him maybe they’d make him go faster if he tried to run a marathon.
He’d said, “I’m pretty sure the only marathon these will help with is a reading marathon.” Man, I missed my dad’s jokes.
“Nice to meet you, Juliet. I’m Rick.”
“Hi,” I said.
Emma finished wiping down the counter and threw the rag in the sink. “She’s sleeping over tonight. We’re making some soup for dinner, but we’re going to take some to the Buttons also. He’s been sick.”
Rick pulled out a small bottle of iced tea and opened it. “Very nice. I’m sure the soup will be delicious. I’ll see you at dinner, okay? I’ll be in my office for another couple of hours if you girls need anything.”
“Okay,” Emma said.
“He doesn’t mind working at home with kids coming and going all day?” I asked after he left.
“Nah,” she said. “He loves it, actually. Plus, no long commute and he can take a walk on the beach at lunchtime if he wants. What does your dad do?”
I liked that she asked. It would have been easy for her to ignore the subject, in case she was worried about upsetting me. But I wanted to talk about him. I mean, he was still my dad even if I didn’t live with him.
“He works at the California Living Museum in Bakersfield. It’s a small zoo, basically. He and my mom met at veterinary school.”
“So he takes care of the animals there?”
<
br /> “Yeah. The bobcats and mountain lions, mostly.”
“Wow, that’s, like, the coolest job ever. Does your dad let you get up close and personal with them?”
I shook my head. “No. Too dangerous. But I’ve taken lots of behind-the-scenes tours and been places most people don’t get to go. Inca, my best friend in Bakersfield, loves it there. She’d go every weekend if she had her way.”
Emma started singing. “Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other’s gold.” She smiled. “I’m so glad we’re new friends, Juliet.”
I laughed. “Me, too! I’m curious about something, though. Is there a reason you break out in song like that?”
She shook her head. “I’m really not sure. My mom says I’ve done it since I could talk. She thinks it’s because, with three older siblings, it was the best way to get people to pay attention to me.”
“That makes sense.”
“Want to go to the beach for a while?” she asked. “We have some time before the soup’s done. We could swim or throw a Frisbee or … sit there and do nothing. You choose!”
“Can we sunbathe and read our books?” I asked. And then I realized I hadn’t planned for that. “Wait. Never mind. I didn’t bring a suit.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her. “It’s fine! You can borrow one of mine. This will be so fun. I haven’t lain out in forever. We have to use sunscreen, though. It’s one of our rules.”
I followed her up the stairs. “Rules?”
“You know, safety rules, I guess. Like, don’t start a bonfire without an adult around. Things like that. Some of them have changed since we’ve gotten older, but the sunscreen one has always been there.”
“Are they, like, posted in your house or something?”
We went into her room. “Yep. Right on the fridge, posted next to the weekly work schedule for the shop. Probably just didn’t notice it.”
This was a very organized family. They had a set of rules, a cool allowance program, and a weekly work schedule. Maybe when you have a lot of kids you have to be organized or life will just be constant confusion? Whatever the reason, my list-making self was impressed. And I honestly didn’t mind having to obey the rules. It told me someone cared, which I liked. Yeah. I liked that a lot.