Odessa Again (10 page)

She didn’t want to be a latchkey kid. The girls in fourth grade didn’t wear keys around their necks.

Odessa went off to school, leaving Mom sifting through gum wrappers and receipts on the kitchen floor.

Her day was uneventful.

She came home and brought Mrs. Grisham her paper, which she hadn’t done in a while. Mrs. Grisham had baked ginger cookies, and Odessa wondered how many days she’d baked cookies without anybody stopping by to share them, so she ate four, but this didn’t make her feel any better.

She went home and opened the front door. (She didn’t need a key; it was unlocked.) She called, “Hi, Mom.”

No response.

“Mom!” she yelled up the stairs.

Nothing.

She wandered through the kitchen, panic rising, and into the living room.

Mom sat on the sofa. The TV was on.

Some lady in a white billowy pantsuit was giving all the people in the studio audience some kind of prize, and then other ladies were jumping up and down and hugging each other, and while this should have been sort of exciting, or at least interesting, Odessa couldn’t concentrate on what was happening because … her mother was watching TV!

In the middle of the afternoon!

Rule number one in the Green House:
No
TV
in
the
daytime
.

Okay, so maybe rule number one was
No
hitting
or
pushing. No TV in the daytime
was definitely rule number two.

“Mom?”

Oliver was sitting next to her. He didn’t care about ladies giving away prizes to other ladies, but he would have been happy to watch anything, because he loved TV.

“Hi, honey,” her mother said, eyes on the screen. “Good day at school?”

“Um, yes. Good day at home?”

“Sure.”

“Did you find the keys?”

“No.”

“So you missed your meeting?”

“Yep.”

“Mom?” Odessa reached for the remote control. “Can I turn off the TV?”

Odessa was a
keep-the-TV-on
type, but she clicked the power button. She sat down next to Mom’s feet.

“I’m sorry you missed your meeting.”

“Oh well, I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.”

“What do you mean?”

Mom stretched out her legs and pulled the throw blanket up to her chin.

“I mean if the job was the right job for me, then I would have made it to the interview. I wouldn’t have misplaced the keys. The Universe would have seen to it that it all worked out.”

“So it’s the Universe’s fault?”

The Universe. Why hadn’t Odessa ever thought to blame her mistakes on the Universe?

Mom laughed. She nudged Odessa with her toe.

“Maybe you should give the Universe a time-out,” Odessa said. “Send the Universe to its room.”

Oliver jumped up and threw his arms out wide. “You should kick the Universe in the privates!”

“Inappropriate,” Mom said, trying not to laugh. Then her smile disappeared. She pulled her feet back and curled them underneath her.

“You don’t need a job,” Odessa said.

“Yes, honey, I do. That’s just the way it is now that I’m on my own.”

Odessa wanted to tell Mom that she wasn’t on her own. That she had Odessa and her toad of a son and Uncle Milo. But Odessa was quiet; she felt a sting in her eyes and didn’t want to cry.

Mom looked at her. Mom knew how to see the sting even when the tears hadn’t come yet. She was tricky that way.

“Oh, sweetie.” She reached out and brushed Odessa’s cheek. “Finding work is a good thing. I
want
to go back to work as much as I
need
to. I’m ready to get back into designing. I miss it. I want to do something that puts me back out into the world.”

“What was the job?” Odessa asked.

Her mother sighed. “Oh, just the kind where you get paid to do what you love.”

Odessa loved making pottery. She loved the color magenta, lollipops that were too big to ever finish, and the feeling of fresh-out-of-the-laundry pajamas. She loved the smell of newly mowed grass. Butter-brickle ice cream. Theo Summers.

Odessa tried to imagine someone paying her for loving all these things.

“Sounds like a pretty good job,” Oliver said.

Mom tousled his hair. “Stupid Universe,” she said, even though
stupid
was a word Odessa and Oliver were not allowed to use.

“Stinky Universe,” Oliver said timidly. Mom smiled.

“Contemptible Universe!” Odessa cried.

Mom put one arm around each of them.

Odessa had made up her mind, but there was no hurry to go up to her attic and back to this morning to fix things. It was nice to just sit here like this.

“You know what?” Mom said. “The Universe wants us to have some ice cream.”

Odessa and Oliver jumped up and raced into the kitchen. Oliver went for the spoons, Odessa for the bowls.

“Mint-chip or butter brickle?” Mom called as she headed for the freezer.

What a silly question. Always butter brickle.

“Well, would you look at that,” Mom said as she stood with the freezer door open, the cold rush of air blowing her hair off her face.

“What?” Odessa and Oliver asked in unison.

“The Universe has a very strange sense of humor,” Mom said as she pulled out her frozen car keys.

10 Hours

Usually when Dad came to pick up Oliver and Odessa for their Wednesday-night dinners, he’d pull into the driveway and honk. Sometimes Jennifer was with him. Odessa liked the just-Dad nights, but ever since Christmas and the dictionary with the purple underlined words, she didn’t mind so much when Jennifer came along.

On the Wednesday after Odessa had gone back to find Mom’s keys in the freezer so Mom could make the job interview, Dad came to the front door and rang the bell.

Odessa opened it. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that a way to greet your dad?” He spread his arms out wide and she stepped into them. He pulled her close.

“That’s better,” he whispered into her ear. He smelled like his minty tummy tablets. Odessa missed that smell.

“OLIVER,” she shouted up the stairs. “LET’S GO!”

“What a minute,” Dad said. “Let’s go inside and talk a little.”

Odessa didn’t like any sort of conversation that adults announced you were having before you had it. First there was the “talk” about how Mom and Dad decided it would be better to live apart and then the “talk” about how they were going to sell the house and of course the “talk” about Dad getting
re
married.

“Can’t we just go to dinner?”

Mom walked up and Dad put his arm out. It was sort of like a handshake, but a little bit like a hug.

“Come on into the kitchen,” Mom said.

Odessa followed them.

“How’re things?” Dad asked Mom.

“Oh, you know, pretty good,” Mom answered.

There they were, walking and talking like two old friends meeting each other on the street.

Her parents could be so weird.

Oliver came downstairs and took a look at the three of them around the kitchen table. Odessa could tell he was just as confused and uncomfortable as she was.

“So your dad and I want to talk to you about some changes,” Mom said.

“I know there have been so many lately,” Dad added, “and I’m sorry for that, I truly am, but sometimes change is good, and change can be exciting, and in this case you should be proud of your mother for getting a really great job.”

And proud of
me,
Odessa wanted to yell.
I’m
the one who found her keys.

“You got a job?” Oliver asked, shocked, like it had never occurred to him that one of her “meetings” might lead to that.

“Yes, honey, I did. At JK Design Studio. I’m going back to interior designing. I’ll be doing some landscaping work too.”

“That’s great, Mom.” Odessa tried her best to sound excited.

“Yes, it’s great, but it means we have to make some new arrangements. I’ll be out of the house more than I’d like.”

I’d like you to be out of the house not at all.

Odessa didn’t say this out loud. She sat there fingering her necklace with the peace sign, imagining how a key might feel hanging from her neck on a shiny new chain.

“I’ve talked to Mrs. Grisham next door,” Mom continued. “She’s agreed to watch you on the days you don’t have after-school activities.”

“The landlady?” Oliver asked.

“Do you know another Mrs. Grisham who lives next door?” Odessa snapped. Oliver’s face fell.

“She used to be a teacher, so she can be of some help with your homework.”

If Mom couldn’t be home, at least it would be Mrs. Grisham and not some stranger greeting her after school. Mrs. Grisham was her friend, even if she was old.

“And you can always call me at work if you need anything at all,” Dad added.

Odessa looked at her father. What she wanted to say was:
Why
are
you
even
here?
But she knew it might come out sounding mean, so she searched for better words.

“Why are you even here?” she asked, because sometimes only certain words work.

Dad cleared his throat and exchanged a look with Mom. “Because in spite of all the changes, we’re still a family.”

If
we’re still a family, why are you remarrying Jennifer?

Odessa didn’t say this out loud either.

Instead she grabbed her coat and went to dinner with Dad and Oliver, just the three of them, and afterward Dad pulled into the driveway and honked. Mom came to the front door.