Darling Rose Gold(41)

Silence for a few beats.

“I’ll talk to her,” Dad said. “But I can’t hang her out to dry.”

The bathroom door started to open. Alarmed, I backpedaled as fast as I could out of the bedroom and darted back into the guest room. My heart felt like it would pound straight out of my chest. Their conversation continued at the same volume, but I couldn’t hear the rest of it.

I quietly closed my door and climbed into the big, cushy bed. I lay like a starfish under the sheets, stretching my arms and legs wide. I’d never slept in anything but a twin bed. Maybe once I had enough money to fix my teeth, I would save up for a queen for my own place.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t that upset. True, Kim wasn’t taking to me at lightning speed, but Dad was. He’d invited me here and let me hang out in his house, and now he had defended me to his wife. We were already creating an unbreakable bond. I’d have to work to win Kim, Sophie, and Billy Jr. over the way I had Dad and Anna. I needed a story, an ironclad reason, why I had to go on that camping trip next summer. After a whole week of bonding, they’d see I wasn’t an outsider at all. I was the same as them. I listened to the Gillespies get ready for bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking.



* * *



? ? ?

The next morning, Dad and I went for a walk around the neighborhood before I had to hit the road. I had work the following day and needed to get home.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while. I was still thinking about what I’d overheard the night before. I had to bring up the camping trip at some point, to give him another chance to invite me. My new family was about to make all these memories we’d reflect back on in thirty years. Our first family vacation—I had to be there.

We rounded the corner. Dad’s house came back into sight.

“When can we hang out again?” I asked.

“We’ll figure out something soon,” Dad said. “You know where to find me now.” He winked. I gave him a small smile. One day I’d be able to grin with confidence, put all my perfectly straight teeth on display.

“Rose,” he continued, “you haven’t told me about your friends. Do they all live in Deadwick?”

All? “Well, my best friend is Alex. She goes to school in Chicago,” I said. “But things haven’t been great between us.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to memorize every inch of the neighborhood—the old man shuffling to pick up his newspaper, the kids skateboarding in the street, the pet walker trying to control seven dogs. “We’re not seeing eye to eye on some stuff.”

“How long have you known her?” Dad asked.

“Since we were kids,” I said. “She was my neighbor in Deadwick before she left for Chicago.”

“That sounds like a pretty strong relationship, to make it that long,” Dad said. I shrugged. “Maybe you should sit down and level with her,” he said. “Friends like that are less common than you’d think.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

Dad seemed satisfied.

I turned to him. “Do you think Kim likes me?”

He feigned surprise. “Of course she does. Why would you ask that?”

This was my chance. “I, um, overheard you guys talking last night. She doesn’t want me to come on the camping trip.” I stared at him, but he avoided meeting my eyes.

“Rose,” he said, touching my shoulder, “don’t read too much into that. You and I have had months to get to know each other, but the rest of my family met you yesterday. This is a lot to take in, but they all loved you. I’m sure of it.”

A small smile formed on my lips. “I love them too.”

He still hadn’t invited me. He wasn’t going to, I realized.

This was just like the Disney on Ice show.

When I was ten, I saw a poster at Walsh’s for Disney on Ice. For weeks I begged Mom to take me to the show in Chicago. I’ll stay in my wheelchair, I promised. I won’t bring my wig. I’ll do whatever you say. I imagined meeting Ariel in real life and getting one of those spinning light-up wands like Alex had. Maybe I’d even get to talk to the other kids.

Finally, Mom relented. We picked a date—May 10, 2004—and she bought the tickets, or told me she did anyway. I’d already planned to buy her a “thank you” gift for taking me; I would get her a Mrs. Potts key chain for her car keys. Every day for six months I counted down the number of days until our show.

The morning of May 10, an hour before we needed to leave for Chicago, I began vomiting and couldn’t stop. I tried to hide it from Mom, but she caught me with my head in the toilet. I’m so sorry, darling, she said. We’ll go another time.

We never did.

Dad and I kept walking, almost to my van in his driveway now. I had to go on this vacation. I could not leave Indiana without a promise. I racked my brain, frantic. I remembered Kim’s look of pity at dinner the night before—the single moment that she’d truly been on my side. Maybe, like everyone else, the Gillespies liked the old me better.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Mom said.

I stopped walking, so he stopped too. “The thing is,” I said, “I’m sick.”

Dad tilted his head, trying to understand.