The Forget-Me-Not Summer (21 page)

T
hey could hear the music from a block away. It was a Beach Boys song, the one about its being nice to be older. Their dad loved the Beach Boys. So did Zinnie. As they walked across the lawn, past the hydrangea bushes and the climbing roses, Zinnie broke into a skip. Aunt Sunny sang along to music,
“Do do do do dee da.”
The casino was twinkling in the dusk. Fairy lights decorated the porch, and when they walked inside, paper lanterns hung from the rafters like brightly colored moons.

Tony spotted them from the stage, smiled, and leaned into his microphone as he sang the familiar lyrics. He and his band were wearing matching T-shirts that said
TONY & THE CONTRACTORS
. Kids were dancing in a circle in the middle of the floor. Adults chatted around the edges of the room, drifting in and out from
the big porch with plastic cups and easy smiles. Little kids zoomed across the dance floor barefoot. Lily took off her shoes and joined them. Aunt Sunny placed her brownies with the other snacks on the snack table, and Jean clapped at the sight of her all dressed up. “You look gorgeous!” she exclaimed, and hugged Aunt Sunny.

“Hey, Marigold, I like your outfit,” Peter said when he saw them. He was wearing a tie, and it looked like he had goop in his hair, too. “The hat's the best part.”

“Thanks,” Marigold said. “I kinda like it now. I might just keep it.”

“No way,” Peter said. “That hat is the most valuable thing I own.”

“He's not kidding,” Jean said. “I'm not allowed to touch it. Once he left it at my sister's house in Maine, and there were actual tears.”

“Mom!” Peter said, turning bright red. “Stop!”

“Sorry,” Jean said, and covered her mouth.

“Maybe you should give it back,” Zinnie said to Marigold.

“No,” Peter said. “She has to wear it to the end of the dance.”

“Fine with me,” Marigold said. “How was the sailing race?”

“I came in first place,” Peter said with a grin. Jean pulled him in for a hug, but Peter resisted her.

“Sorry,” Jean said. “It's just that I'm so proud. Peter is a fantastic sailor.”

Zinnie then spotted Ashley and Kara and Tara, who were in a big group, taking turns dancing in the middle. She ran over to say hi.

Tony & the Contractors were good, playing songs both the kids and grown-ups liked. Ashley air-guitared to “Hound Dog,” and Zinnie pretended to drive a car and honk the horn to “Drive My Car.” She was glad she was wearing her favorite jeans, because she could do some of her break dancing moves, like the worm, and not worry about anyone's seeing her underwear. Lily did the tsunami in her tutu. Peter gave Lily a piggyback for almost three songs in a row. Even Marigold was getting into it, twirling in her pretty dress and leaping across the room. When Tony played “California Girls,” Marigold, Zinnie, and Lily danced in the center for the whole song.

Then Tony tapped the microphone. “This one is for a very special lady,” he said. “One of the finest women I've ever known. And she looks so darn pretty tonight, I can hardly believe my eyes. Here goes.” Tony began playing the guitar very softly.

Zinnie guessed he was talking about Aunt Sunny, but she was totally sure of it when she realized he was playing “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles. She looked for Aunt Sunny, who was where she'd been most of the night, standing by the snack table, talking to Jean. Only now she was swaying to the song with a shy smile on her face. Tony was gazing at her, and she
was gazing back. Zinnie could practically see a string of hearts between them. Their makeover had been a true success! Zinnie looked around for Marigold.

“Dance with me!” Lily said, and put her arms around Zinnie's waist.

“We need to find Marigold and tell her that our plan worked,” Zinnie said, taking Lily's hand and weaving through the crowd. Everyone was dancing to this song, even the grown-ups.

“What plan?” Lily asked.

“You know,” Zinnie said, leading Lily toward the porch. Maybe Marigold had stepped outside for some fresh air? It was kind of crowded in here. “The one where we get Aunt Sunny to—” She stopped in her tracks. There was Marigold. Sitting on the steps with Peter. He was leaning in close. And then he was kissing her. On the lips.

“Where we get Aunt Sunny to do what?” Lily asked.

“Never mind. Come on,” Zinnie said, yanking Lily back inside. She did not want to ruin another kiss for Marigold.

A
fter the dance a group of kids was going to Edith's for ice cream. Marigold and Peter walked at the back of the group, smiling at each other every few steps but not speaking very much. This was okay with Marigold. She was busy reviewing the kiss in her mind so that she wouldn't forget it.

It had happened like this: She was taking a punch break after dancing in the circle with her sisters to “California Girls.” Lily and she had tangoed, with Lily wanting to be dipped every other step, and then she had tried to follow Zinnie's break dance moves, which were kind of crazy. She was so thirsty! She had just finished her third cup of punch when Peter tapped her on the shoulder.

“Want to see the Big Dippah, Marigold?” he asked.

“What's a dippah?” she asked, smiling. She liked
the way he said her name now, no doubt about it.

“You know, the stahs?” he said.

“Oh,” Marigold said, “the Big Dipper!”

“You want to see it or what?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, and followed him out to the lawn.

As they looked up into the night sky, he showed her not only the Big Dipper but also the Little Dipper and Orion's belt and another constellation called Cassiopeia, which was shaped like a W.

“Cassiopeia was a queen who thought she was better than everyone else,” he said as he took a seat on the steps of the big porch. “You know, I used to think you were stuck up.”

“You did?” Marigold asked, though really this didn't surprise her. She plopped down onto the step next to him, her dress spreading out around her.

“I thought that you thought you were too good for Pruet,” he said. “I thought you hated it here.”

“I didn't like it at first,” she admitted, “but I like it now.” As she leaned back on the porch steps, she realized that she really did like Pruet. She liked how quickly she fell asleep in her boat bed after swimming at the beach and playing tag in the pear orchard with her sisters. She liked that she could actually see the stars here. And sailing. She had loved the wind on her face and how far the boat tipped without turning over. And she liked Peter. She liked that he was so nice to Lily. She liked that he knew so much about sailing and
baseball and nothing about skateboarding or surfing. She even liked his stupid hat. She was filled with so much like for Peter that she punched him lightly in the arm. And that's when he leaned over and kissed her. She lost her breath and felt herself blush. It was soft and short and real. There were no cameras, no director, no set. There was just a boy in a tie, a girl in a hat, and a skyful of stars.

P
eter took Marigold's hand as they walked to Edith's Ice Cream Shop. It was a little awkward because Peter kept jumping up to grab branches, accidentally yanking Marigold along with him.

The line at Edith's was long, and Peter offered to stand in line and get the ice cream (rocky road for him, peppermint stick for her) while Marigold waited for him on the little bench outside. She had just sat down when a big black SUV with tinted windows pulled up in front of the store. The window rolled down halfway.

“Marigold?” a girl's voice said from inside the SUV. As the window went down, Marigold saw that the girl inside was Amanda Mills, the pop singer who was going to star in
Night Sprites
. Marigold felt a little buzz that not only had Amanda remembered her
name but she had actually asked whoever was driving the car to stop so that she could talk to her. Though it made sense that Amanda was here because of the movie, she was so out of context that for a moment Marigold felt like she was dreaming.

“Hi,” Marigold said, standing up from the bench and walking over to the SUV.

“You're in this, too!” Amanda said. “That's so cool. Now I have a friend on set!”

I'm your friend?
Marigold thought, and tried not to look as thrilled as she felt for fear it would seem uncool. “Well,” Marigold said, “I'm not exactly in it. Yet.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Amanda asked.

“Oh, um, I'm staying with my aunt,” Marigold said.

“You must be dying!” Amanda said. “There isn't a Sephora for seventy-five miles. I just looked it up on my phone. Luckily,
Young & Lovely
sent me a whole bunch of sample stuff. I'm going to be on the October cover.”

“Wow,” Marigold said, in total awe. She peered into the SUV. There was a driver up front and a woman snoring in the back.

“That's my mom,” Amanda said.

“Oh,” Marigold said. Marigold looked at the woman sprawled in the backseat in her hot-pink tracksuit, a tiny string of drool hanging from her mouth and her bare feet curled up. She didn't look like a mom, and that's when Marigold remembered the stories she had
heard about Amanda's mother: that she had been to jail for something; that she had abandoned Amanda when she was little but come back for her once she'd been discovered on
America Sings
.

“You're not going to believe this,” Amanda said, “but some lady asked Phil to judge a talent show that the locals are doing.” Marigold gulped. She felt sick. “I guess the winner gets to have a walk-on role in the movie or something. Anyway, I'm totally going, too, because it's going to be hilarious. I'm going to help him judge.”

“You are?” Marigold asked.

“Well, not officially, but I bet he'll ask my advice since I won
America Sings
, the biggest talent show in the world.”

“Maybe some of them are talented,” Marigold said. “You never know, right?”

“Wait, are you
in
it?” Amanda asked.

“No,” Marigold said, without even thinking. “No way.”

“For a minute I was like . . .” Amanda made a face. “Because I'm totally going to tweet about it. Maybe I'll even post the worst ones on YouTube. We have to sit next to each other!”

“I don't think they allow cameras,” Marigold said.

“Who cares? Hey, after the talent show tomorrow there's going to be a barbecue at Phil's place. You can come with me if you want.”

“Really?” Marigold asked. “That would be great.” This was exactly what Marigold needed: a real introduction to Philip Rathbone. She was suddenly realizing that if she wanted to be in this movie, she shouldn't be in a silly, unprofessional talent show. That was probably the last thing she should do. Instead, she needed someone important, like Amanda, to make the connection for her. Then he would take her seriously.

“Maybe there's still a part for you,” Amanda said.

“Do you think? That would be awesome,” Marigold said.

“You never know, but it's worth a shot, right?” she asked with her trademark wink.

“Yes,” Marigold said with a distracted smile, because although she was thrilled at this unexpected gift of glimmering opportunity, she was already anxious about telling Zinnie that she could no longer be in the play.

“God, the people around here are such hicks,” Amanda said. “I just saw a grown man in overalls. And look at that loser and a half,” she said, pointing toward Edith's Ice Cream Shop. Marigold turned to see Peter coming out of Edith's with two large ice cream cones, both of which looked like they were about to tumble over. He was staring at them, as if this would help him not to drop them, when he tripped over a step.

As Marigold watched him regain his balance,
managing to lose only one scoop off the left cone, she saw Peter through Amanda's eyes. His jacket was a little too big for him, and his pants were a little too short. His ears were sticking out from under his baseball cap. She couldn't believe that less than an hour ago she had kissed him. Marigold felt so confused. Her mouth went dry. Her ears started to hum. She wanted to disappear.

“Hey, um, do you think you could give me a ride?” Marigold asked. “I need to get back to my aunt's.”

“Sure thing,” Amanda said. “I can show you my latest video on the way.”

Marigold ran to the other side of the SUV and climbed inside.