The Gossip File (6 page)

My mom calls as I'm getting ready for dinner. I keep fidgeting with my new yellow dress, adjusting the neckline since it's lower than what I'd normally wear. At least I could finally take off the hideous necklace Taylor gave me.

I don't really feel like talking to Mom—what if she asks about Ellie?—but if I ignore her call, she'll keep trying until she reaches me.

“Rachel! It's so great to hear your voice!” Mom says when I pick up, even though I called her yesterday. “How are things going?”

“Good. I'm still having fun.”

“That's it? Tell me everything. Are you using lots of sunscreen?” she says.

“Yeah, Mom.” Part of me wants to tell her about how weird Dad's been acting around Ellie, but I don't want her to get mad at him. Besides, the last thing I want to do is talk to my mom about my dad's new girlfriend—awkward! Instead, I blurt out, “I've been working a lot, so I haven't been in the sun all that—”

“Working? Working on what?”

I clear my throat. I've been afraid to tell my mom about the job in case it's yet another reason for her to be upset with my dad. “I volunteered to do it,” I tell her. “They were really short-staffed at the resort café, so I'm helping out for a couple of days.”

“But you're supposed to be on vacation! What about all the things you wanted to do with your father?”

“I know, but we'll have plenty of time for that later.” Ick. I sound just like him.

Mom sighs. “I don't like this. You tell your dad that if he makes you work the whole time—”

“He won't! Besides, it's not so bad. At least I have some extra spending money.”

“Do you need more money?” Mom says. “Is your father not giving you enough? I can send you some.”

Oh boy. I should have known better than to mention the M-word. “No, it's fine. Really. Mom, you don't have to worry!”

She laughs, but I can hear tears in her voice. “How can I not worry? My baby is a thousand miles away!”

“How's apartment hunting?” I ask, trying to change the subject before she starts sobbing into my ear. Then I might start crying too.

She sighs. “I haven't had time to look at a single place. The cleaning business has me pretty busy. If this keeps up, we might not need to sell the house after all.”

My heart leaps. I'd told Mom I was okay with us putting our house on the market since renting a smaller place would mean her not having to worry about money all the time, but we've lived in that house since I was three. Of course I want us to stay if we can.

“So the business is really doing okay?” I ask. After how much we struggled to keep clients this summer, it's great to hear my mom sounding optimistic again.

“So far so good! It still feels strange not to go to the law office every morning, but I'm getting used to it. And I'm learning so much from Ladybug Cleaners about running a business. We'll definitely be busy when you get home. Which is one reason I wanted you to get a real vacation before school starts!”

“Mom…” I don't want to have the same discussion all over again. Just then, there's a knock on my door and Ellie pokes her head in. “Mom, I have to go. We're about to have dinner.”

“Okay, I'm glad we got to talk. Call me tomorrow if you have time, okay? Or even tonight. I'll be here! Oh, honey, I miss you so much. Try to have some fun, okay?”

“I will, Mom. I miss you too.”

When I hang up the phone, I notice Ellie giving me a wistful look from the doorway. “You really love her, don't you?” she says.

“What?” Suddenly, I realize that she's wearing the purple version of the dress that she gave me. Creepy.

“Your mom,” Ellie says. “I can tell you really care about her.” For once she isn't smiling or laughing. She has a faraway look on her face. “I wish Caleb felt that way about me.”

I study my shoes, feeling awkward. I could try to assure her that Caleb does love her, but the only thing he seems to care about is his iPad.

“Anyhoo,” Ellie says after a second, snapping back to reality. “Your dad should be here at seven with the pizza. Want to help Caleb set the table?”

I almost shriek when I see that Caleb is wearing a striped shirt that matches Ellie's and my outfits. Together, we look like the cast of a musical or something.

I grab a pile of plates and start putting them out on the table, while Caleb slowly walks around laying out silverware with one hand and tapping away on his tablet with the other.

“What are you always playing on there?” I finally ask.

“I'm not playing,” he says. “I'm designing.”

“Designing what?”

He sighs like I've asked the stupidest question on earth. Then he shows me the screen, revealing a 3-D model of some kind of medieval torture device. “It's a trebuchet,” he says.

“A what?”

“It's a type of catapult, but it uses a counterweight instead of a spring. I'm designing and building a miniature one for the festival. I bet no one will make one of these, so I'll win the contest for sure.”

“Why do you care so much about winning?” I ask. “It doesn't seem like the festival is going to be all that big.” In fact, from what I've seen, it might be a total mess.

He shrugs and doesn't say anything for so long that I start to think he won't answer at all. Then he glances over his shoulder, as if making sure Ellie isn't listening, and says softly, “Because if I win, maybe my dad will notice.”

“Notice that you won? Of course he'll notice.”

“No,” Caleb says, his voice still soft. “He's always working on these awesome projects all over the world. Whenever I show him sketches of stuff I've designed, he says they're good, but I can tell he doesn't mean it. If I won the contest, maybe I'd finally prove to him that I can be as good as he is.”

Since things with my dad are so weird right now, I can actually relate to what Caleb is saying. For years, Mom and I struggled to find some common ground, but now I feel like we're on the same island while Dad is out in the ocean, floating away on a raft.

“You'll find a way to get through to your dad,” I say. Hopefully, we both will.

At exactly 7 p.m., there's a knock on the door and Dad comes in holding a couple of pizza boxes. He clearly just got back from his scuba trip. He's still a little sandy-looking, and his black hair is wet with sweat.

“Sorry,” he says when he gives me a damp hug. “I didn't have time to shower. But I come bearing dinner!”

He looks exhausted, but I'm glad to see him, sweaty and all. “It's no worse than when we spent all day raking leaves and then went to Molly's Diner for ice cream, remember?” I say.

Dad laughs, the first genuine laugh I've heard in days. “I miss Molly's. There are lots of ice-cream places here, but none of them taste the same as that. Plus”—he winks—“no one here can keep up with my ice-cream appetite like you can.”

“Are you saying I'm an ice-cream piggy?” I say, making an oinking sound.

Dad laughs and oinks back at me. For a second it feels like I have my old dad back. Then Ellie sends him off to get changed for dinner, and he comes back wearing a striped shirt just like Caleb's. I stare at it in horror as Ellie giggles and announces she has to take a picture of all of us.

“We look like an adorable little family!” she says as she makes us cluster together. Is this what she thinks a family is? People who hang out all the time and wear matching outfits? I'm pretty sure that's called a cult.

When we sit down for dinner, I wind up all the way on the other end of the table from Dad. I watch in disgust as he and Ellie whisper things to each other and laugh. I bet she can't eat even half of the ice cream that my dad and I can.

When we're almost done with dinner, Ellie seems to finally notice that there are other people at the table. “Rachel,” she says, “how did the pastry samples work out today?”

“Good. People took them.” I don't add that they didn't seem all that impressed once they tried them. “But I was thinking, what if the café made food from scratch? All the other Four Palms restaurants do it.”

Ellie shakes her head. “It's more cost effective as is. Trust me, Mark has it all figured out.”

“Carrie said the café has been struggling to stay open. Don't you think more people will come in if the food is really good?” I ask.

“But it is good. Isn't it?” she asks, making it sound like I hurt her feelings.

“Yeah,” I say through my teeth. “I was thinking…if you wanted to try something new…”

“I appreciate it, Rachel,” Ellie says. “I'll certainly mention it to Mark, but the resort has done things a certain way for years. I doubt they'd be up for trying anything new, especially not when we're so short-handed. Once you go home, I'll have to scramble to fill your position as it is.”

“But you're doing that now, right?” I say. “I can't stay there the whole two weeks.”

“Of course not!” says Ellie. “And I wouldn't expect you to. We'll figure things out soon. I promise.”

I'm starting to wonder if Ellie's promises are just as empty as my dad's. I glance over at Caleb who's busily stacking his pizza crusts into an arch. Maybe I should be more like him: ignore my parents and just focus on my own stuff. But it's all an act, I have to remind myself. He wants his dad's attention as much as I want mine's.

“Dad,” I say, “have you figured out when we can go to Disney? We need to go soon if we want to see everything.” I start listing the rides and attractions we have to check out while we're there. “And after that, we have to do SeaWorld and—”

“Whoa,” he says. “That sounds like a lot. Keep in mind we'll only have one day.”

I feel like someone punched me in the gut. “Only one day? What do you mean?”

Dad sighs and looks at Ellie as if he's searching for help, like he can't even remember how to talk to me anymore.

“Rachel, don't forget that your father has to work,” she says, but I ignore her. This is none of her business.

“Dad, you said you could get a few days off,” I say. “You promised we'd do the trip like we always planned. I had a whole bunch of stuff we were going to do, and so far we haven't done a single one. We've been talking about this trip since I was six years old!”

Everyone at the table looks at me, even Caleb. I realize how whiny I sound, but how can Dad just throw away my dream like that? How are we ever supposed to be able to talk to each other again when we can't even spend any real time together?

“I'm sorry,” he says finally. “I'm doing the best I can.” He sounds like he means it, like he really believes it. And maybe he is doing the best he can, but it doesn't feel like nearly enough.

After we're done cleaning up from dinner, Dad turns to me and says, “Roo, you said something about going mini-golfing tonight.”

My heart swells with hope. Finally, Dad and I are going to have some one-on-one time!

Then Ellie chimes in with “I think it's a great idea! Let's go now!” and ruins everything.

My mouth sags open. “But, Dad—”

“It'll be fun if we all go,” he says softly. “We'll do something with just you and me another time, okay?”

I don't get it. Does Dad not want to spend time with me? Am I doing something wrong? The worst part is that I can't even ask him these questions because what if he's realized he doesn't like having me here? What if I'm interfering with his new life? If that's how he feels, all I can do is try to show him that having me come visit was worth it. So I smile and climb into the car with grumpy ol' Caleb, and we head to a mini-golf place a few miles away.

When we get there, Ellie insists on getting a green ball even though I try to explain to her that it's always Dad's color.

“No problem,” he says. “I think I'll go with red today. Change is good for the soul.”

As we head to the first hole, Ellie grabs the scorecard and declares that she's going to keep score so that none of us can cheat. I don't know why anyone would care enough to cheat in mini-golf, but she seems determined that we do everything the “right way.”

But as we start to play, I have a sneaking suspicion that Ellie's never even been on a mini-golf course before. Every time she goes to hit the ball, she misses or hits it in the grass. And one time, she even manages to smack it backward so that it sails all the way to the beginning of the course and then disappears in the water. Poor Dad has to spend ten minutes fishing it out, even though I try to tell Ellie that she should just go ask for another ball.

“That's all right,” she says. “My knight will take care of it.”

Gross.

“Isn't this fun?” she asks as we finally move on to the next hole. “The perfect family outing!”

If she calls us a family one more time, I might actually scream. Meanwhile, Caleb measures each shot from every angle to see which one will get the best results. We take so long at each hole that we have to let three other groups of people skip ahead of us.

I can't help imagining what this would have been like with just Dad and me. We wouldn't care about keeping score or about getting every shot. We'd just be laughing and chatting and acting goofy. Will we ever have a chance to do that again?

Finally, we get to the last hole and the torture ends. Caleb ends up winning, Dad and I tie for second, and Ellie winds up with such a high score that there isn't enough room to write it on the card.

“Should we head over to my place for some dessert?” Dad asks.

“Teddy, we don't have to go squish into that tiny apartment,” Ellie says, wrinkling her nose. “We could go out for dessert or back to my place or—”

“I want to see where my dad lives!” I say. I don't care if his apartment is smaller than an airplane bathroom. I can't go back home without ever setting eyes on it.

We pile into Ellie's car and head toward Dad's place. One of the dozens of things I've missed about my dad since he's been gone has been his stories. I ask him to tell us about some of the wacky tourists he's mentioned to me on the phone, but Ellie jumps in instead.

“Just last week your father had a man asking if he'd see any kangaroos during the snorkeling trip,” she says.

“Kangaroos?” Caleb says. “Don't they only have those in Australia?”

“And since when do kangaroos live in the water?” I add, looking at my dad.

“Exactly!” he starts to say, but Ellie cuts him off.

“It turns out the man had heard about tree kangaroos and figured they must be able to live anywhere, even in the ocean,” she says. “I guess he didn't realize he was on the wrong continent.”

Ellie giggles loudly while my dad lets out a soft chuckle. I force myself to smile, but really I want to yell, “Dad, why can't you tell your own stories? Why are you letting Ellie take over everything?”

When we get to his apartment, I'm expecting someplace tiny, but I'm still shocked when we go into what's essentially a long hallway with a sofa shoved into it. Off the bigger hallway are a smaller hallway with Dad's bed and an even smaller one with a kitchen jammed inside. As we get the “grand tour,” I find myself shuffling sideways the whole time like a crab. No wonder my dad decided to let me stay with Ellie! Otherwise, I would've had to sleep standing up in the kitchen.

“Wow,” I say slowly. “This is…nice.”

Dad shrugs. “It was the best I could do at first. Now that work has been steadier at the resort, I should be able to upgrade soon.”

Ellie giggles. “But this place has so much charm!” She jokingly caresses the hideous green wallpaper while Caleb rolls his eyes and goes to turn on the TV.

“Who wants ice cream?” Dad asks.

Since his apartment only has one measly window AC unit sputtering away against the heat, we all instantly raise our hands.

Caleb and Ellie go to sit on the tiny balcony to cool down while I squeeze into the kitchen and help my dad scoop some chocolate chip ice cream. After a minute, I take a deep breath and say, “Dad? I, um, wanted to talk to you about something.”

He sighs and puts down his spoon. “I know I've been working too much, and I'm sorry. The thing is, if I want to get to where I'd like to be in life, that means making sacrifices, even if that includes—”

“No, Dad,” I say, not sure what he's talking about. “It's about Ellie.”

He holds up his hands like he's surrendering. “I can guess what you're going to say, and I understand that you don't want to spend your vacation working, but she really needs your help and—”

“Dad! Listen!” I say in a loud whisper. Ellie's still outside, but I definitely don't want her to hear me. “It's not about work. It's about… Do you think you'll marry Ellie?”

Dad lets out a surprised cough. “Where is this coming from?”

“I just wondered, that's all. Have you guys talked about it?”

Weirdly, his cheeks get a little red. I can probably count on my fingers the number of times I've seen my dad blush. My cheeks get hot too. Apparently, I'm a sympathy blusher.

“There's nothing in the plans now,” he says slowly, “but I think one day, it's a definite possibility.”

That sounds like a long way of saying “yes.”

“You'd be okay with that, wouldn't you, Roo?” Dad adds.

It's my turn to let out a surprised cough. “Oh, um. I mean, Ellie seems nice and everything, but don't you think she's sort of taken over?”

He blinks at me. “Taken over?”

“Yeah. I mean, look at how she was telling your stories for you on the way here.”

Dad smiles. “Roo, that's just how she is. She loves telling stories.”

“No, it's more than that. She has this list of stuff the two of you have to do, but what about me? I mean, I'm only here for a couple weeks, and you're spending more time with her than you are with me.”

“I was afraid this might happen.” He lets out a long, tired-sounding sigh. “It's normal for you to be jealous. You two just need to get used to each other, that's all.”

“Dad, that's not it! You should hear what the girls at work say about her, and there's this notebook at the café that says she's not as perfect as she seems, and—”

“Enough, Rachel,” he says. “Ellie is a sweet woman. I don't want you saying anything else about her.” He puts down the ice-cream scoop. “Maybe this trip was a mistake. You weren't ready to see me with someone else yet.”

“What? No, that's not it.”

“Roo, it's okay. I understand. In your place, I'd probably feel the same way. But let's try to make the best of it, okay? Can you do that for me?”

I can't believe it. Has my dad heard a single word I've said? I don't know where my old dad went, the one I could talk to about anything, but he's clearly not here with me right now.

“Fine,” I finally say, because he's waiting for an answer. “I'll make the best of it.”