I, Amber Brown Page 4

  First, I make sure that he’s not using the hand that has the french fry in it.

  He’s not…. so I shake his hand.

  “Welcome, Amber.” A teenage girl comes up to me. “Hi, I’m Polly.”

  She’s wearing black tights and a very large black T-shirt and lots of jewelry.

  Behind her, someone yells, “SURPRISE!”

  It’s Brenda, my Ambersitter, the best sitter in the whole wide world…if you don’t count the fact that she is also one of the world’s worst cooks.

  For other people, Brenda just baby-sits. For me she Ambersits.

  Today Brenda’s hair is spiky and pink and glitters with orange and purple.

  She definitely has gone crazy with cans of glitter spray.

  We rush up to each other. “What are you doing here?” I give her a hug.

  “Polly is my best friend.” She hugs back.

  Polly. She’s talked about Polly. I just didn’t put it all together that Polly Marshall is the Polly who is Brenda’s best friend. In fact, this whole thing is happening so quickly that I’m having trouble putting lots of stuff together.

  She looks at me.

  Then she looks at me again.

  “Amber. When did you get your ears pierced?” she asks.

  I almost forgot. “Today.”

  She looks at me and then she looks at my dad, who is talking to Mr. Marshall.

  Brenda leans over and whispers, “Does your mom know about this? Did you get her permission?”

  Biting my lip, I shake my head no.

  Brenda kind of makes a gulping sound and softly says, “Wow.”

  “Okay,” Mr. Marshall says, “you’ve already met Savannah…and this is my son, Dylan…. who seems to think it’s funny to adorn himself with french fries.”

  I smile at Savannah…and look at Dylan, who now has french fries in his ears.

  His father takes them out of Dylan’s ears. “If you do that one more time, I’m going to make you eat the french fries that you have stuck in your ears and nose. Now stop doing that.”

  Dylan smiles. “No nose. No ears.”

  “And not any other parts of your body either,” his dad says.

  “Darn,” Dylan says.

  I, Amber Brown, don’t want to think about where else Dylan was thinking of sticking those french fries.

  “Okay, everyone,” Mr. Marshall says, “it’s time to eat. Amber, I hope that you like hot dogs and beans and hamburgers.”

  “Yum,” I say.

  It’s kind of a party, only it’s one where I only know three people well…. my dad and Brenda and me.

  The table is already set.

  I am very hungry.

  We all sit down and eat.

  I prepare one of my favorite meals…. hot dog in a roll with beans on top of that, and then mustard and ketchup on top of that, and potato chips with ridges on top of that.

  Then I put some french fries on the side.

  Yum.

  The Marshalls are definitely not a quiet family.

  I, Amber Brown, am used to meals with just my mom…. or now, sometimes with my mom and Max.

  They are definitely not this noisy.

  Here, everyone is joking around, teasing each other.

  At my house, we joke and tease too, but it’s not this loud.

  One of the reasons that it is so noisy is that Dylan is having races with hot dogs in hot dog rolls. “Okay, sports fans…. which one will be the winner??? Will it be the one wearing the coat of yellow (the mustard) or will it be the one wearing the red coat. (No, he’s not British…he’s wearing catsup.) It’s the yellow one in the lead….. But can he cut the mustard?? Wow!!! Look!!! The one in red is not far behind…. and he’s getting closer…. closer…. now he’s pulling in front. Boy, does that hot dog know how to catsup.”

  Dylan keeps laughing at his own jokes.

  His dad laughs at them too.

  My mom would never let Dylan do that at the table.

  Thinking that makes me think about what else my mom would not allow…….. And I’ve just done it.

  I get very nervous if I think about what’s going to happen when my mom finds out.

  I look back at Dylan.

  He’s put more french fries up his nose, crossed his eyes at me and opened his mouth, which is filled with chewed up hamburger.

  Something tells me that he and Justin would really have gotten along.

  If Dylan thinks he’s going to gross me out by doing things like that, he’s not. When we were little, Justin and I used to put Cheerios up our noses…and sometimes Justin would even add milk to his. So, if Dylan thinks that he’s going to gross me out, I’m going to have to tell him about the chewing gum ball that Justin and I once made.

  So what Dylan is doing with his french fries is just small potatoes to me.

  His dad finally makes him stop, but I bet that Dylan is not going to stay stopped for long.

  Brenda sits next to me.

  That makes me feel good.

  When I woke up today, I had one kind of life…. and now, BAM, without any warning, I’ve got a different kind of life…so it’s good that Brenda is here. I know her. She doesn’t change…. except for her hair color…and that’s not such a big deal.

  She’s so excited that my dad is renting the downstairs. “And, Amber, sometimes when your dad goes out at night, I can Ambersit for you here, and we can all hang out and have a good time.”

  I look at my dad, who nods.

  I wonder where he’s going to be going out when I come here…and who he is going to be going out with.

  Brenda continues. “And if you want and if there is time, we can go through the Ikea catalog and help you pick out things for your room…so that when you go shopping, you’ll already have an idea of what you want.”

  Everything is happening so quickly.

  I ask, “Brenda, how long have you known about this?”

  She says, “Two days. Polly called me when your dad decided to rent the place…. and then yesterday after your dad went shopping, he came over here and Polly and I were doing our science project. We all started talking. We offered to help you with your room if you want.”

  I nod.

  Dylan starts pretending that he’s going to squirt catsup at Savannah, who starts yelling.

  While Mr. Marshall gives Dylan one more chance before he has to leave the table, Brenda leans over to me and whispers, “I couldn’t tell you when I found out. They made me promise. Your dad wanted to be the one to tell you.”

  I nod and bite my lip.

  “Are you okay with all of this?” she whispers.

  I shrug. “I think so. I don’t know.”

  My dad is looking over at us, and I just know that he is trying to listen so I just sit there.

  Brenda smiles at me. “Amber. It’s going to be so much fun. Don’t worry. You’re really lucky…. You have a great home with your mom, and now you’re going to have a great home with your dad.”

  I, Amber Brown, hope that’s true.

  My father leans over and says, “Amber. Don’t forget what they said at the jewelry store. You’ve got to put some of that ointment on your ears so that they don’t get infected.”

  Brenda says, “I’ll help her with that, Mr. Brown. If you will all excuse us for a few minutes, I’ll put the ointment on so that we don’t forget.”

  Once Brenda and I go into the bathroom so that I can privately put the ointment on my earlobes, she says, “Amber, I thought your mom told you that you couldn’t have your ears pierced until you were twelve.”

  I try my reasoning out on her. “But my dad said that it was okay…and anyway it’s my body, not anyone else’s.”

  She shakes her head. “No go.”

  “But you have a lot of holes on your ears,” I say.

  “I also have a mother who gave me permission…. She has said that I am not to get my tongue pierced, though…. but I don’t want to do that anyway.”

  “Ugh,” I say.
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br />   My earlobes hurt enough.

  I, Amber Brown, can not imagine what it would be like to have a pierced tongue…. and I’m not going to find out.

  That’s not something that my mother will even have to tell me not to do.

  “Amber Brown,” Brenda the Ambersitter says, “I don’t want to be around when you have to tell your mother that you’ve gotten your ears pierced.”

  Actually, I, Amber Brown, don’t want to be around then either.

  Chapter

  Ten

  “This has been a great day,” my dad says, as we park in a space in front of Mom’s and my house.

  “Yes,” I say, touching my ears.

  Part of me wishes that I hadn’t gotten them pierced today because I know that this day is not going to stay a great day.

  “Wait ’til your mom sees your ears.” My dad smiles at me.

  “Wait ’til my mom sees my ears,” I say, in a very quiet voice.

  “Dad,” I say. “Let’s just sit out in the car for a few minutes. I want to spend a little more time with you.”

  My dad grins.

  He is sooooooooo happy that I want to spend more time with him.

  And I do….. and this would all be soooooo much easier if I didn’t have to deal with my pierced ears and my mother.

  I, Amber Brown, have wanted pierced ears for a long time and always have imagined what a happy day it would be when I finally got them.

  My dad talks to me about how much fun it will be to furniture shop, how he wants to do it tomorrow. “I hope that your mother says that it’s okay for you to take the day off from school. I really want to have the furniture all done by Christmas. Our house will feel so much more like a home if it is all filled with furniture.”

  I just nod.

  My dad looks at his watch. “Honey, let’s go in now. I promised your mom that we would be back early so that you could check your homework. We don’t want to do anything that will make her angry.”

  Too late for that, I think.

  We get out of the car and walk to the door.

  My dad rings the bell.

  “We can just go in,” I say.

  My dad shakes his head. “You can just go in…. I can’t. This is your mom’s and your house…and I don’t live here anymore, so I ring the bell.”

  There’s so much to figure out, to work out.

  My dad is trying very hard to do it all right.

  I, Amber Brown, am feeling guilty for making it not all right.

  “Dad,” I say. “I can go in by myself. You can call Mom later.”

  I figure that way she’ll get angry at me first and then calm down a little by the time she talks to him.

  The door opens.

  It’s too late.

  “Sarah. Would you mind if I came in? There’s something that I would like to ask you.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Come in.”

  She walks into the living room, and we all sit down.

  I jump up again. “I’ll go upstairs and check over my homework.”

  “Good idea,” my mom says.

  I rush to go out the door and up to my room.

  “Amber. Wait,” my dad calls out. “Before you go, show your mom what we had done today.”

  I just stand there.

  I look at my dad.

  I look at my mom.

  I cover my ears.

  “Amber,” my mother says softly, “show me what you did today.”

  “Mom,” I say.

  “Amber,” she says.

  “Amber,” my dad says. “What’s going on? Show your mom your new earrings.”

  My mom jumps up, comes over to where I am standing and says, “Amber. Take your hands away from your ears…. and let me see what you have done.”

  I take my hands away from my ears.

  She looks at my newly pierced ears.

  “How could you???” she yells. “I told you that you would have to wait until you are twelve.”

  I start to cry.

  She turns to my dad and yells. “And how dare you?? How dare you go against something that I have made a rule about!”

  My dad says, “But I didn’t know.”

  He looks at me.

  He looks angry and sad and hurt.

  “Sarah,” he says. “I had no idea.”

  “I bet you didn’t,” she says, angrily.

  “I didn’t.” Now my dad sounds angry. “Do you think that I would have done this if I knew that you had said no? We would have talked about it first if I had any idea.”

  “Well, you should have checked with me,” she says.

  “You’re not the only rule maker in this family.” My dad folds his arms in front of him.

  “And you are not a part of this family.” My mother makes a terrible face at him.

  I, Amber Brown, feel sick to my stomach.

  This was such a great day until now.

  And now the ungreat part is just starting.

  “I may not be a part of your family…BUT I am still a part of Amber’s family…and I have some rights here,” my dad says. “She’s my daughter too.”

  “And where have you been when I’ve had to make all the decisions? You’ve been in Paris…. and now you waltz back here and expect to be able to do just what you want…when you want to. Philip….” My mom takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. “How could you do something like this? After I told Amber today that she would have to wait.”

  “I told you……. I didn’t know that,” he says, looking at me.

  My stomach is hurting a lot, and I don’t think it’s because of my hot dog meal.

  I look at my dad.

  I look at my mom.

  I start to yell. “I’m sick of this. You each think you own me. Daddy, you come back from Paris and now there’s all this fighting about what I can do and when. Mom says one thing. You say the other. I feel like I have no say. I don’t even know who I, Amber Brown, am anymore…. I feel like it’s all up to each of you…and that sometimes it’s not even about me…. it’s just another way for you two to fight.”

  I stamp my foot.

  I’ve never acted like this.

  I am so mad that I stamp my foot again. “There…. that’s one stamp for each of you…so that neither of you feel left out…so that neither of you feel like I’m not angry at both of you.”

  “Amber,” my dad says. “I don’t get it. We’ve had a great time today…and it’s not my fault that you didn’t tell me that your mom said you shouldn’t get your ears pierced. If anyone here should be angry…it should be me…. and your mother. You haven’t been fair to either of us.”

  I stamp my feet again. “Oh, okay….. so NOW I see….. You can both be angry but I can’t…. it’s the two of you…. not me. Well, I’m sick of it.”

  I start to cry again.

  My mom looks at me. I want her to come over and hug me.

  But she doesn’t.

  I really want my mom to hug me.

  But she doesn’t.

  And my dad isn’t hugging me either.

  I, Amber Brown, feel just awful.

  My mom says, “Amber. I want you to go upstairs for now, to your room. I want you to think about what you’ve done. And while you are doing that, your father and I are going to talk. We’ll call you down after we’ve talked. Now go to your room right now.”

  “But,” I start.

  “Right now,” she says, folding her arms in front of her.

  I go to my room right now.

  And I don’t think I ever want to leave it again.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  I can’t even look at my spelling list.

  I can’t even think about checking my homework.

  My parents are downstairs.

  I hope that they don’t yell at each other.

  I hope that they don’t do something awful.

  I hope that they don’t yell at me.

  I hope that this all turns out okay.

  I
hope that they still love me.

  I pick up a mirror and look at my stupid earrings.

  Why did I do something so dumb?

  Why?

  I think about the reasons why.

  I wanted pierced ears.

  I like jewelry.

  All of my friends were getting their ears pierced, and I would be the only doofus without pierced ears.

  Well…. I know not the only one…. but all my good friends (except Justin).

  My mom is angry at my dad.

  My dad is angry at my mom.

  They are both angry at me.

  I look at the earrings in the mirror.

  They are pretty little gold balls…. just the kind that I always wanted as my starter set.

  Now they’ll probably tarnish, turn black, infect my earlobes, and then an infection will spread throughout my entire body.

  And then I’ll die…. and my parents will be so sorry.

  I bite my lip.

  Maybe they won’t be so sorry.

  If I’m not around, they will never have to see each other again.

  I know that they’d both like that.

  Well, my mom would like that.

  Sometimes I think my dad still cares about my mom and wishes that they hadn’t broken up…but now they are fighting again so who knows?

  If I’m not around, my mom and Max can get married and start all over again…. have other kids, ones who don’t want their ears pierced.

  If I’m not around, my dad can live anywhere in the world that he wants to live…. so he won’t have to stay in a place just to have joint custody.

  Maybe they’ll have joint custody of my grave.

  I’ll write out a will and leave each of them one of my earrings.

  I get a note pad and pen and lie down on my bed.

  My stuffed toy gorilla is sitting next to me.

  “What should I leave to you?” I ask him.

  He says nothing.

  He is really a stuffed animal so I realize that I can’t leave him anything, I will have to leave him to someone.

  Brandi will get him…. and I’ll leave the dolphin, Sushi, to Kelly.

  Justin will regain custody of our chewing gum ball.

  I hope that every once in a while, he will chew a piece of gum, add it to the ball, and think of me.