My Summer of Pink & Green Page 15

  The cab pulls up and we get in, and thankfully the air-conditioning is going at its highest speed. It’s a three-minute drive, so we’re there in a flash and the driver doesn’t even charge us. He drives Anais around all the time, so he says he’ll get us on the next ride.

  Claudia keeps calling me and I keep hitting ignore. I don’t get it. It’s like when she wants me, I have to be there in a second. But when she doesn’t, or when she’s busy with Bean or college, she totally forgets I exist. I wish we could find some kind of middle ground.

  Also, it’s really kind of sad that all Mom, Grandma, and Claudia care about is this dress when we have an inspection to worry about. They don’t even care that the spa may not open, after all our hard work. It doesn’t make sense.

  Ruthie’s waiting for us at the front of the co-op. She leads us toward the office. “Have a seat, ladies,” she tells us. “I’m going to call my friend Patch and I think he’ll know exactly what to do.”

  It’s hard to believe I was just here a few hours earlier. It feels like that was weeks ago. It’s only three o’clock, but it feels like midnight.

  “Hey, Patch, it’s Ruthie,” she says into the phone. I like when people use the nickname Patch for guys named Patrick. It sounds so cute. “Yup, got another one. Uh-huh. I’ll hold.”

  She puts the phone on speaker, sits back in her rolling chair, and says to us, “I see on your forms that it was Brandon Bond who did your inspection. He’s an OK guy, but he’s messed up the filing many times. That’s why you’re in trouble.”

  I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t. I wonder if our “trouble” is the kind of trouble that can be solved. Or not.

  “After you talk to Patrick, what can we do? I mean, what’s the next step?” Anais asks. “I’ve been in this business for fifteen years, opened spas in fifteen states, but I’ve never run into the kind of nitty-gritty I have here.”

  Ruthie nods. “I know. So many balls in the air.” She types something into her computer and looks back at us.

  “I didn’t get the whole story here,” Anais says. “Which spa is yours? Is it the Green Oasis in Ferry Port or the Dove and Canary in South Brookfield?”

  Ruthie laughs. “Actually, we just sold our spa a few weeks ago. We’re in the process of opening a bed-and-breakfast.”

  Anais nods, and Patrick comes back on the line. Ruthie picks up the phone and takes him off speaker.

  “Right.” She pauses. “Yes, they have.” Pause again. “Yes, they have done everything, with ample time, every form is filled out in beautiful handwriting.” She smiles at Anais. “I have it right here.” Ruthie makes a face as if Patrick is talking too much, and she has her finger holding a spot on a piece of paper, like she doesn’t want to lose what she was looking for. “Yes, it’s dhg3727883mag.” She takes a deep breath and gives us two thumbs-up. “Thank you so much, Patch. You always come through for me. But you need to talk to Brandon about why he’s making so many mistakes.” She claps quietly. “Right. OK, take care, Patch. Have a great rest of the summer.”

  Ruthie hangs up and exhales again. She goes to fill a few drinking jars with this organic sparkling apple juice. She hands a jar to Anais and one to me. “Cheers, ladies!” We clink jars. “You did it.”

  “You did it!” I yell. “Ruthie, you saved the day.”

  “Well, Louise Ramal, I think you saved the day.”

  I smile, and Anais looks at me, confused. I don’t feel like explaining the whole name thing—that can be my private joke with Ruthie. I have a feeling we’ll keep in touch.

  We stay and chat with Ruthie for a few minutes, and then Ruthie has to go do a shift shelving produce. Anais wants to get back to the apartment and shower before meeting everyone back at the spa later this evening.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting to Sil’s?” Anais asks.

  “I doubt they’re still there,” I tell her. “I’ll go back to the pharmacy and tidy the shelves and wait for them.”

  Anais calls the cab again (I swear, she refuses to walk anywhere, I don’t get how she stays so thin), and the driver drops me off at the pharmacy before he drops her off at her apartment.

  I walk in, and there’s a line of customers behind the pharmacy counter. Charise is handling their purchases. Everyone seems happy, though, and a few people are waiting in the Relaxation Room. All the lights are off in the spa area. I wave hi to Charise and Tory and walk around making sure the shelves are nice and neat, the way Grandma likes them. Everything looks perfect.

  But I don’t see any of my family anywhere. They can’t all still be at Sil’s—it’s not that big or interesting of a store. I decide to go to the pharmacy office to play on the computer until they get back. Maybe they went out for a snack.

  As I get closer to the office, I hear voices—Mom’s, Grandma’s, Claudia’s, and a male voice. It’s hard to hear well with all the customers chatting and laughing, but I’m pretty sure it’s not Bean’s voice that I’m hearing.

  I hurry back and push the door open.

  “Luney-Tune!”

  My dad is here! My dad is here!

  Right then all of my doubts and anger and frustration melt away like the last few seconds of a lit candle. He’s here and that’s all that matters.

  “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow!” I yell, and run into him, practically knocking him down with the force of my hug.

  “Surprise!”

  “You’re here. You’re really here. Really and truly here.”

  “Yeah, Luce.” Claudia hits my arm, while I’m still hugging Dad. “We wanted to surprise you at Sil’s and all go out for lobster rolls and chowder for lunch, but you were not where you said you were.”

  Mom’s smile quickly changes to a grimace, like she just remembered she was mad at me. “Yes, young lady. Where were you? Why did you lie?” She pats the chair next to her. “Sit. Then spill.”

  “And Lucy, I know you’re happy your father is here, but this is a serious discussion,” Grandma adds. “How can we trust you to work at the spa when we don’t know where you are?”

  I can’t believe this is happening. Everyone’s ruining my amazing moment with my dad. But I guess I can understand why. I was shady on the phone and then I stopped answering calls and texts. This is my chance to really live my do-the-right-thing philosophy. I was wrong and I need to own up to that.

  “Nowhere. She’s run away,” Bean says, walking into the office.

  And then he sees me. He raises a fist in the air. “There you are!” He’s laughing, so I know he’s not that mad. I don’t think Bean really gets mad. “I thought you got hired as the entertainment on a cruise line! Or joined the circus! Or opened your own spa!” He winks at me. “I was worried sick!”

  Everyone cracks up, and Dad says, “I like this guy.”

  I like him too. I just don’t want to say it out loud.

  “I was keeping my location a secret,” I start.

  “Of course you were,” Grandma interrupts. “Always up to something, my granddaughter.” She smiles, so I know she’s not really mad. Just a little bit.

  “I solved the problem with the inspection,” I tell them.

  “Lucy,” my mom says in her what-have-you-done-now tone.

  “No, really, I did,” I say. “Ask Anais. It’s a whole long story, but basically I know someone who knows someone at the state office who helped us. We passed the inspection with flying colors, the paperwork was just misfiled. It was a whole big misunderstanding. All someone named Brandon’s fault.”

  Grandma looks confused. “But it’s all set? Anais will tell me we’re all set to open in a week?”

  “Yup.”

  Dad high-fives me, and then everyone starts high-fiving.

  “Lucy saved the day again,” Claudia says.

  “Seems to me Lucy’s always the one who saves the day,” Bean adds.

  “I like you, Bean.” I high-five him again.

  It was the right time to say it out loud.

  spend al
l of Thursday together. We go out for the famous egg and cheese sandwiches at Amity Deli, right on the beach. And then we play in the sand for hours, like we did when we were little. Dad builds these intricate sand castles that have all these different chimneys and additions and even windows. We of course have lobster rolls for lunch and have a root-beer-drinking contest. Bean wins, but I came close. Bean drank ten huge cups of root beer. I had eight and a half.

  And soon it’s time for us to head back to the house so that Dad and Mom can leave for Esme’s wedding. It’s at this holistic yoga center in the middle of New Hampshire. They’re both terrible with directions, so they’ll probably get lost. It’s a good thing they’re leaving early, or they’d miss the wedding.

  “We all have to do yoga tonight when we get there,” Mom says, when we’re back and sitting in the living room.

  “Everyone?” Dad asks. “What if we don’t even like yoga?”

  “It’s required,” Mom says. “There’s a whole schedule of activities.”

  “This is crazy,” Dad says, and Mom shakes her head. They’re complaining, but deep down they’re excited to be going somewhere different together. I can just tell.

  “Well, you kids have fun,” Grandma says. “Tell Esme I say hello.”

  “Will do,” Dad replies.

  “But when you get back, it’s crunch time.” Grandma looks at Mom. “We’ll have five days until the grand opening and that’s it. We’ll practically be sleeping at the store.”

  “Ma, we’re not in bad shape,” Mom tells Grandma. “Take a look around, everything’s organized. We need to get in touch with Mayor Danes about the official ribbon cutting and all the hoopla, but as far as appointments and everything, we’re doing great.”

  Grandma raises her eyebrows. “If you say so …”

  “I say so!” I exclaim, and everyone laughs.

  Soon Mom and Dad are off in Mom’s old Volkswagen, heading toward New Hampshire. It’s hard for me to believe that they’re going away for a whole weekend together. Yeah, they weren’t officially divorced, and they didn’t fight a lot, but it’s still weird. It’s a good thing a lot of other people will be there. It would be super-awkward if they had to spend a whole weekend alone just the two of them.

  In a way, I’m jealous that they’re leaving, because I only got to see my dad for one full day and a little bit the night before. But in another way, I’m glad that my mom gets to spend time with him. It’s hard to say. I guess that’s what they mean by mixed feelings.

  “So it’s just us all weekend,” Grandma says, with her feet up on the ottoman. “Bean, what’s for dinner?”

  “I was thinking Mexican—enchiladas, guacamole, margaritas.”

  “Sounds good,” Grandma says. “Except the last part. No underage drinking in my house.”

  “Kidding, Doris, kidding.”

  Grandma smiles. “Make sure there’s enough for six. I invited Gary and Bevin over.” Grandma looks at me. “You haven’t apologized, Lucy. I’m very grateful for your help with the inspection, but Bevin is waiting for an apology. It doesn’t matter how good you are at solving problems and saving the day if you’re not a nice person. Being nice is most important, you know.”

  If I had a dollar for every time Grandma has said that to me, I’d be able to buy a spa by myself.

  “I know.” I walk over and give Grandma a hug. She must’ve been out by the pool while we were out with Dad. She smells like sunscreen, and I love it. I wish everyone could smell like sunscreen all year long. “I’ve been planning out exactly what I want to say. I’m sorry it has taken so long.”

  I run upstairs and throw on my red-and-white polka-dot tankini, grab a towel out of the linen closet, and sprint down the stairs and out the back door to the pool. I set up my towel on the lounge chair, lie back, and take out my phone.

  “Bevin?” I say, when I hear someone answer.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hi, it’s Lucy.”

  “I know.”

  OK, so she’s not going to make this easy for me. That’s fine. I deserve it. She ruined my client’s makeup way back in the beginning of summer, but I wasn’t exactly welcoming to her either, and I waited so long to call and apologize. I’ve totally been avoiding her.

  “Do you want to come swimming before dinner?” I ask.

  “Maybe. I’m helping Anais put all of the appointments into the computer.”

  “Listen, Bevin, it shouldn’t have taken me so long to call you. I’m really sorry.” I stop to think for a second. “I know you think you were just another one of my projects, but it’s not true.”

  She doesn’t say anything and so I take that as a sign to go on. “I like you. I like the way you keep asking questions, like you really care about a person, and you’re not just making conversation. I like the way you still fold over your anklet socks like a kid, but you can pull it off and make it look classy and cool. I like the way you’re friendly and make people feel like they’ve known you forever even if they’ve just met you.”

  “That’s not even true,” she mumbles.

  “Yes, it is,” I tell her.

  “You really think I have an easy time making friends?”

  “Yes. I do.” I clear my throat. “But you have to give yourself a chance. Don’t think it’s going to happen in five minutes, and don’t assume that they’re not going to like you, because they will.”

  “Really really?”

  “Yes. Really really.”

  “Dad! Can I go over to Lucy’s and swim?” she yells straight into the phone.

  “Sure!” I hear Gary yell back.

  “I’ll be there in five minutes! Bye!” She hangs up, and I guess that means she accepted my apology.

  I jump in the pool and float around, savoring these few minutes of quiet time before Bevin comes over.

  As I’m floating, I think about Mom and Dad and the wedding, and the great day Claudia, Bean, and I had with Dad. I think about saving the day with Ruthie. I’m grateful to have a clear head now that I made peace with Bevin. I think about the grand opening and how amazing it’s going to be, the ribbon cutting and Sarabeth and all her fancy friends and family getting ready for the wedding. I think about the news crews that will be there, and the paper, and all the boats on the water for Boat Fest.

  But something still doesn’t feel quite right. I’ve figured out a lot, but there’re two other things I need to figure out.

  And they’re both named Ramal.

  ends up being pretty nice. Bean makes a Mexican feast and we sit at the table long after we’ve finished eating, just talking and laughing. And Bevin likes night swimming as much as I do, so we change back into our suits and race out to the pool for a late-night swim.

  “You’re so lucky to have a pool,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “You’re so lucky that your parents get along even if they’re not together,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “And Sunny’s a pretty awesome best friend.”

  “I know.”

  She keeps listing a million other reasons I’m lucky: I have an older sister, my grandma doesn’t need a wheelchair like hers does, I’m allowed to have soda in the house, all this stuff. And as she’s talking, I realize that she’s right. I really am lucky.

  “You get to live in Manhattan, though,” I tell her.

  “True.” She splashes me with water. “But I’d give that up for a private pool.”

  I splash her back. “Come visit whenever. But it’s only open from May to September.”

  A little while later, Bevin and Gary go home to the pharmacy’s upstairs apartment, and it feels funny that they’ll be leaving soon and the apartment will be empty again. I wonder if anyone will ever live there in the future. Maybe Claudia and Bean, if they get married one day? That would be cute. I hope I get to be the maid of honor.

  Thinking about Claudia’s future wedding jogs my memory and I remember something I forgot to do! I’m such an idiot. I race upstairs to t
he computer. That girl Palmer who’s planning her sister’s bachelorette party—it’s a week away! I totally forgot. I bet they booked another place.

  I look through my e-mail and find hers and write her back.

  Hello Palmer,

  I am so sorry for my delay in responding. We would love to have the bachelorette party at our spa on Saturday evening. Please confirm that you’d still like to have it there.

  Thank you,

  Lucy Desberg

  After I’m done taking care of official spa business, I go downstairs and find Claudia. It’s not that late, and there’s still something I have to do before tomorrow.

  I tap Claudia on the shoulder. She and Bean are watching some documentary about New York City in the early 1900s, but she can be interrupted.

  “Can you drive me to Sunny’s?” I ask her.

  “I thought Sunny was in L.A.,” she responds. Sheesh, she has an amazing memory. She has so much going on, and yet she remembers every detail about my friends. That’s a nice thing about older sisters.

  “She is, but I need to do something.”

  Claudia looks at me all squinty-eyed and pauses the documentary. “What are you talking about, Lucy?”

  “I need to go drop some stuff off. I just need a ride there.”

  “Claud, come on, let’s take her.” Bean smiles at me. “Live a little. A few minutes of breaking and entering never hurt anyone!”

  He laughs, and I do too, but then I add, “It’s not breaking and entering! I know where the key is!”

  It only takes me a few minutes to do what I have to do while Bean and Claudia wait in the car.

  I put the basket I made right in the middle of Sunny’s bed. It’s full of all her favorite stuff: pretzel M&M’s, Red Hots, hot-dog-flavored potato chips, key-lime-pie-scented lip gloss, her favorite ultra-sheen shampoo, and a package of these new Hello Kitty note cards we just got in at the pharmacy.

  I take out a separate card with two artsy-looking ice cream sundaes on the cover and write:

  Dear Sunny,

  I’m so sorry I have been such an annoying, selfish, weirdo

  grump this summer. I know this basket of some of your

  favorite stuff won’t totally make up for it, but maybe it’s