Amber Brown Is Green with Envy Page 5

  “That’s when you and Dad were married,” I say. “Now it’s you and Max.”

  I can tell that she is trying to talk her way out of this.

  She says, “Amber. We’re not talking about having a baby immediately. We want to get used to living together, Max and I….. you, me and Max…. a baby may come later.…Just think….. someday, your own baby brother or sister!”

  “Baby half brother….. or half sister. We’ll have different fathers,” I remind her.

  She smiles. “Half brother…. half sister. Does that really matter?” she asks. “Amber Marie, they are going to be part of our family…. all family. Half brother. Half sister. What’s the other half going to be?”

  I think about it and decide to joke. “Tuna fish…. half tuna fish.”

  I try to think about what a half baby-half tuna fish would look like.

  Thinking about it makes me laugh. I think that the words tuna fish are funny. I don’t know why.

  “Okay,” I say. “We can have a half tuna fish-half human baby…. but that’s it.”

  Sometimes it’s easier to joke about something serious than to really deal with it.

  As long as they aren’t planning to have a baby for a while, I feel better. Maybe they will change their minds.

  Mom continues to explain why they want and need more room. In addition to wanting more room, they want to live in a house that my dad never lived in…. that they didn’t want him to walk into their house and act like HE was the one who once lived there, who had rights because of that.

  “Amber,” she says, “you can understand. Can’t you?”

  I think about the way my dad acted when he brought me back to the house.

  He shouldn’t have acted that way.

  He just doesn’t get it….. he and Mom are not going to get back together again.

  Sometimes I wonder why they broke up. I used to think that I was the reason they broke up, but now I don’t think so. I’ve given up trying to guess. They won’t tell me.

  Even I, their kid, don’t think that they should get back together…well, mostly I don’t think that they should get back together.

  I do want to suggest one more thing. “Why don’t we just leave things the way that they are? Max in his apartment? We can stay in our house?”

  She shakes her head. “That won’t work. Max and I really want to live together in our own home.”

  “Yours and Max’s?” I ask.

  “OURS,” she says. “Mine and Max’s and yours.”

  “If I say that I understand why you want to leave the house, can you understand why I hate it, and why I want to stay in the same town?”

  She nods. “Understanding, though, doesn’t mean that we won’t move to another town…. we still may…. but….. I promise that we will try to stay in the same town. That’s fair to you….. That’s fair to your father too, I guess.”

  I ask her another question that I really want her to answer. “Do you hate Daddy?”

  “No,” she says. “I don’t hate him…. but I definitely do not want to remarry him. I love Max…I want to marry Max….. and I don’t want your father to dictate where or how Max and I will live.”

  It is not easy for me to figure all of this out…. but this move is because of my dad…. so he is dictating it.

  I say, “Mom, please promise me that you will try to find a house in town.”

  She nods. “We will try.”

  She said that so quickly.

  I wish that I hadn’t used the word TRY and asked her to promise that they WOULD find a house in town.

  Somehow, I don’t think that she would have made that promise.

  I guess that I’m just going to have to wait to find out.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  My dad has a date.

  He’s going out with some lady he met today at the grocery store.

  Most parents leave grocery stores with bags filled with food and toilet paper.

  My dad leaves with the telephone number of the woman he met in the freezer section while deciding which flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream to buy.

  She suggested Chubby Hubby.

  Then she said that, as a single person, it was the only hubby in her home.

  I should have gone with him when he asked me to go instead of taking a bath.

  I would have told him to buy the chocolate chip cookie dough.

  But I wasn’t there, so he got Chubby Hubby ice cream and a date for tonight.

  He promised to take me to the movies tonight.

  Now he is taking a stranger to the movies instead.

  He promised to take me.

  I think about it.

  When he was looking for apartments, he promised me that I could help him choose one….. and then he found this place without me.

  After that, he said that he would NEVER break a promise to me again…. and NOW he has.

  I’m sitting in this house, very mad.

  I’d call Mom and go home, but I know that she and Max have gone to New York City to a play.

  My dad keeps saying that he really wants to spend some time with me, especially now that there is a chance that I will be moving to another town.

  So here I am at his place, and there he is, out on a date with someone who he just met today at the Grand Union.

  I am not very happy about it.

  In fact, I am VERY NOT HAPPY about that. My dad keeps saying how upset he will be if I move away. He keeps saying that he is going to get a lawyer to make sure that I don’t move out of town…. that he will spend as much time and money legally as it takes to spend time with me.

  And then he leaves.

  On a date with someone he doesn’t even know.

  I am not only not happy. I am very sad. I am very angry.

  I’m here at his house, without him.

  Steve is also not here.

  He’s gone to a party.

  Savannah is also not here.

  She’s gone to a friend’s pajama party.

  I could have gone to Kelly’s house. Brandi’s there tonight. We could have had a pajama party too.

  Dylan is here, in his room playing computer games.

  I am not alone, though.

  Brenda, Polly and I are giving each other facials.

  I’m hanging out with the teenagers.

  If I weren’t so angry with my dad, I would be having a totally great time.

  Now it’s only a sort of great time because I’m feeling sad and mad.

  “Leave it on for twenty minutes and be careful not to get any of it in our eyes.” Polly looks up from reading the instructions. “Also, maybe we shouldn’t put it on our lips. We don’t want to swallow it.”

  Soon our faces are totally green.

  We’ve got scarves so that the gunk does not get into our hair.

  It’s really nice of Polly to share the Christmas present that she got from Brenda.

  The green gunk hardens on our faces.

  We can’t really talk.

  We can’t even smile.

  Dylan walks into the kitchen and looks at us.

  He pretends to be terrified. “Oh, no. It’s the creatures from the Green Latrine.”

  Dylan starts talking to himself. “Okay. I won’t let them get me. I know there is a way to save myself. Let me think. With vampires, it’s garlic. With the creatures from the Green Latrine, it’s….. !”

  He goes to the freezer, pulls out an ice cream sandwich, goes back and takes two more. “Now I’m safe.”

  Polly makes a face. The gunk cracks and flakes. “That boy will find any excuse to eat as many ice cream sandwiches as he can.”

  We go to the sink and wash the mess off our faces. Then we put this clear smelly stuff on and then the moisturizer.

  I look in the mirror.

  My face looks exactly the same except for the green face mask still in my eyebrows.

  We all look at ourselves in the mirror for a while and then start playing Go Fish.
/>   It’s a lot of fun spending time with Brenda and Polly.

  Sometimes I wonder if they would be hanging out with me if it weren’t for the Ambersitting money…but then there are other times that they do just hang out with me.

  Brenda’s boyfriend had to go with his family to Pennsylvania, to visit his grandmother.

  Polly doesn’t have a boyfriend.

  Neither do I.

  I don’t want one.

  I think that Polly does want one.

  She keeps mentioning a boy named Lenny, who is in her political science class. Brenda and Polly keep calling it “poli sci.” Then they joke that Polly sighs over Lenny in that class.

  I hope that I never get that silly over boys when I am a teenager.

  I decide to change the subject. “I need to ask you something.”

  We stop playing Go Fish.

  I ask, “Do you think that you are part of a normal family? Do you know normal families?”

  Both of them laugh.

  It’s not a mean laugh, though.

  They are not laughing at me.

  “Describe normal,” Brenda says.

  I shrug. “I don’t know….. parents who aren’t divorced….. kids who don’t feel bad sometimes….. people who things go well for….. normal.”

  “I’ve heard rumors that there really are normal families,” Brenda says, and smiles.

  “Yes. We’re discussing them in poli sci.” Polly giggles. “Look, Amber….. there are families that are intact, not divorced, not separated, that are considered normal. Talk to any of them….. and you’ll see…. they have problems too.”

  “I think that the biggest problem is that people think that just a few things are normal…. and that’s not true,” Brenda says. “People judge too easily.”

  “Do you think that the only families that are normal are the ones who are married, never divorced, perfect?” Polly asks.

  Thinking about it, I sort of nod.

  “Sometime you should ask the kids in those families if they think that their families are normal. I bet that some of them will say yes….. and some of them will say no,” Brenda says.

  I look at Brenda, who has dyed her hair green and red for the Christmas holidays. She also has dyed some of the tips of her hair blue and silver for Hanukkah. Some of the tips are also black to go with the green and red for Kwanzaa.

  I’m not sure that Brenda is an expert on normal.

  “There is no such thing as normal,” Polly says. “Look at my family…. a lot of people at school who don’t know me look at me and think I come from a normal family. And I’m sure that if they knew us, they wouldn’t call us normal…. but our life is normal to us….. My dad is here…. my mom went to South America with some other guy….. is that normal?”

  I, Amber Brown, never knew that.

  “Are they divorced?” I ask.

  Polly shakes her head no. “My mom doesn’t answer any of her mail, and she doesn’t contact us.”

  I stop thinking about what is normal and think about what is going on in their family.

  “Do you miss her?” I remember how I used to miss my father when he was in Paris…. but he always kept in touch.

  Polly shakes her head no and then yes. “I do…. but mostly I am mad at her…. especially when I hear Savannah cry…. or Dylan cry.”

  I think about how hard that must be.

  I’m a little surprised to think about Dylan crying.

  I’m not surprised about Savannah.

  Polly continues. “I have had to take care of my brother and sister much more than I would have had to if my mom was around. I love them, but sometimes it would have been nice to be able to be a kid who didn’t have to act like an adult so much of the time.”

  “Poor Polly,” I say.

  She smiles at me. “It’s not easy, but it’s the way it is around here…. and not all of it is bad. I’m a lot less spoiled than some of the people I know. I just worry about how everyone is going to manage when I go away to college in two years.”

  I didn’t know all of this about the Marshalls…. wow….. no wonder Steve looks so tired some of the time….. and so does Polly.

  Polly looks at me. “So now you know…my family would not be considered normal either…. but it’s the family I know, and I love them…. well, all of them except for my mother.”

  Brenda says, “And I think that my family is normal…. what’s left of it….. My dad died, so there is just my mom and me…. but that’s still a family.

  “I’ve thought about this a lot,” Brenda continues. “At school, there are kids who are adopted, kids who were born into the family where they are living, kids who have stepfamilies, kids who have two mothers, kids who have two fathers, kids who live with guardians….. so many different ways to live….. and who gets to decide what’s normal?”

  “It bugs me when one group tries to decide what’s normal for everyone.” Polly shakes her head. “That causes problems everywhere…. in school, in the country, in the world. Fights and wars can start that way.”

  “The way I figure it,” Brenda says, “as long as it doesn’t hurt yourself or others, then it’s fine.”

  We all smile at each other.

  Then we go back to playing Go Fish.

  Polly and Brenda start discussing the butts of boys in their classes….. rating them from asinine to buttacious.

  I decide that it’s time to go.

  This may be normal behavior for them, but I’d rather go read a book.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  My mother puts the bowl of cereal on the table in front of me. “Honey, be outside right after school. Max and I will be there to pick you up.”

  I pour milk into the bowl.

  I’m the one who has to do it because I know just the right amount to pour.

  If I put in too much, then it gets soggy.

  I hate soggy cereal.

  If I put in too little, then it’s dry.

  Then I have to add more milk, and then there’s leftover milk, and I have to add more cereal.

  I stir the mixture.

  “Amber,” my mom says, looking at me, “did you hear what I said?”

  I nod. “Be in front as soon as school is over. You and Max will be there to pick me up.”

  She moves closer to me, putting her face right in front of mine. “And you do know why we are picking you up, right?”

  I pick up the spoon of cereal and try to put it in my mouth.

  Some milk dribbles down on both of us.

  My mom backs up and sighs. “Amber. Why are we picking you up? Why have I taken several days off from work?”

  It’s my turn to sigh. “You and Max are looking for a new house….. and I have to go to school.”

  She nods. “You can’t miss school. Even if your grades were better, I still wouldn’t take you out of school for this. But we want you to be part of the decision-making, so we are narrowing down the choices….. and now there are some that we want you to see.”

  I look around the kitchen. Under one of the cabinets is a plaster of paris mold of my handprint that I made in preschool with a nose print in the middle made by Justin.

  Miss Emily, our teacher, had to clean the plaster of paris out of his nose before it got hard.

  By the stove are pot holders that I made in first grade. I never could get all of those loops closed off correctly, but Mom said that they were beautiful anyway.

  On the wall is the corkboard that I made at day camp. We tack things on it, like appointment reminders, pictures and coupons.

  I wonder if we will put up all of these things in our new kitchen when we find the house.

  I wonder if I hate the houses, will they buy one of them anyway…just saying that my opinion matters but not meaning it.

  The doorbell rings.

  It’s Max.

  He’s driving me to school today.

  We go out to the car.

  On the front seat is a wrapped present.

&nbs
p; I get into the car and put my seat belt on.

  The present is between us.

  Max starts up the car and says, “Amber, the present is for you.”

  Christmas is over.

  It’s not my birthday.

  “Is this a bribe?” I ask. “So that I’m not mad about having to move?”

  Max smiles and thinks about it.

  Then he nods. “Sort of…. but it’s also an I-love-you present…an ‘I’m glad that you are going to be my daughter’ present…and ‘I’m glad that we are all going to be living together’ present.”

  I think about it. “But I already have a dad…. you are going to be my stepdad.”

  Max nods again. “I know. But I want you to know that I feel like you are my daughter….. and that no matter how many children your mom and I have…. you will always be my first daughter…. and that doesn’t mean that I need to have you love me more than Philip, your real dad.”

  I don’t say anything.

  He continues. “I know that you are very angry at your father right now….. but he is your dad and he does love you.…I just want you to know that you don’t have to choose between us….. that we can both be important to you.”

  I can feel tears in my eyes. “You are very important to me.”

  Max smiles. “Good. Now open your present.

  I rip the package open.

  I, Amber Brown, am not good at opening packages slowly.

  I open the box lid.

  There’s a ceramic plaque that reads AMBER BROWN’S ROOM.

  I smile at Max.

  “Your mom and I went to one of those ceramic-painting places and we made this for you. I did the printing. Your mom did the painting.”

  I look at the plaque. There are pictures of things that are important to me. The pig alarm clock that Aunt Pam gave me…cartoon pictures of me, Mom and Max…also a rainbow and crayons.

  “I love this.” I smile again.

  We are stopped at a traffic light, and Max looks at me. “We’ve decided to paint a set of plates for the new house.”

  “You and Mom?” I ask.

  He nods. “And you too. Once we get settled, we’ll do it. I’m not very good at this, but it’s something your mom really wants to do….. and”—he grins—“you know when your mom really wants to do something…”