The Loose Ends List(42)

“I wonder if that’s what the Bergen-Belsen side of the family thought,” I say.

“Not fair, Maddie,” Dad says.

“Enough, honey. Give Daddy a break,” Mom says.

Janie’s pouting. After all her debating, Janie’s hooked on Pickle. She’s in a terrible mood because she’s leaving him on the ship. Gram can’t take it anymore.

“For Chrissakes, Jane Margaret, stop it. We are going to Rio. Dr. Do Me will be waiting for you in Asia.”

“It’s too long,” Janie whines.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Dad says. “You kids are running around like it’s spring break in Cancún. Have some goddamn respect for your grandmother.”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” Gram says. “I wanted it to be a little like spring break. I was afraid the kids would follow me around like I was a two-legged stray. Why should I be the only one having fun?” She holds her hand up to silence the table. “I do have one request. As we go off on our adventures, no pining away. When you live inside each moment, it’s hard to have regrets. Okay, kids?”

“Yes, Gram,” Jeb and I say.

“Jane Margaret? No pining.”

“No pining,” Janie mumbles.

“Good. Now, sit up straight,” Gram says. “You look like a pack of hunchbacks at a pity party.”





FOURTEEN


THE RIO BUSES are almost as unnerving as Tits’s Jamaican bus. We’re on our way to see the giant statue of Christ. Gollum stayed behind. I guess we’ll have to wait to see if the Nazi thing pans out. We left Holly and Marshall behind, too. Janie planted kisses on Holly’s head and told her they’d be friends forever and they would see each other soon. Holly blinked twice. Then Janie mauled Ty on the gangway until Eddie had to pry them apart so we could get Janie onto the bus.

Rio is vibrant and electric. We pass stacks of buildings piled on other stacks of buildings like mismatched LEGOs stuck haphazardly together. The colors are mismatched, too, with burnt orange, bright orange, turquoise, yellow. There are kids everywhere, kicking soccer balls, riding two or three to a bike, racing barefoot on the crowded street.

Enzo holds my hand a little tighter now that we’re about to say good-bye.

Gloria’s talking nonstop about her recipes. “Oh, it’s going to be epic, Gloria,” Mom replies, referring to the recipe book they’re making. I don’t know if epic is the word I would use.

I texted Skinny Dave’s mom before we got on the bus just to tell her I think about him often and to wish her a safe trip back home. I bet Skinny Dave didn’t even write on the Gathering Wall. What would he have written?

What would I write?

“I’m going to miss you, Maddie Levine,” Enzo whispers.

“So how shall we proceed?” I sound like an idiot, but I don’t know how else to say I know you said we are meeting in Rome, but I don’t know when that will be, and I’m getting anxious because I like you.

“Text me when you get to Rome, and we’ll meet up. I have to say, I’m not the most brilliant long-distance communicator. I’ve gotten in trouble for that in the past.”

“I mean, we don’t have to text back and forth a million times a day, but it would be nice to know you’re still alive.”

“I think you would know if I were no longer alive.”

“Ha-ha.” I turn my head toward the window and watch a woman plastering a guy’s face with kisses.

“I’ve got an idea. What if we text each other three interesting things each day? It could be something we want to share or something we did that day.” He must sense my anxiety. “That way we have something to look forward to.”

“That works,” I say.

I know he’s right, but three texts a day will feel like three sips of water. Not nearly enough.



I don’t know whose idea it was to take a tram up Corcovado Mountain, but the wait is hot, long, and annoying. It takes forever to chug up to the top, and I don’t even get to sit with Enzo because he’s helping brace Mark’s wheelchair.

We finally make it, and the view from the mountain and the statue of Christ the Redeemer is breathtaking. Rio’s domed mountains remind me of alien pods in one of Rachel’s sci-fi movies. Below us, the sea meets the city, and the energy churns upward toward this very spot. I’m feeling especially Zen as Christ and I keep watch over Rio de Janeiro.

Paige and Lane hug baby Grace between them and gaze out at the view.

“I’m so glad we’re here,” Paige says when we’re all assembling for a picture. “It’s more spectacular than I imagined.”

We pose for a group shot in front of a backdrop so spectacular it looks fake. Enzo leaves Mark and Burt and runs over. He squeezes in between Gram and me.

“Say snow globe moment,” Dad yells.

“Snow globe moment!” everybody yells.

I wonder what the guy taking the picture thinks of our unruly crowd.

“I like that,” Paige says. “Snow globe moment, like we’re suspended in a snow globe.”

“It’s our family saying,” I explain. “One of them. Our family also likes the phrase ‘you’re an *.’”

Paige laughs so hard she snorts, and for a second I feel panicked. I don’t want my joke triggering another seizure. I turn to go and notice Gram and Aunt Rose sitting side by side on a bench, heads together and chatting away. They look like they could be forty. Or fifteen. Or five.