Just Another Girl (18 page)

“Good.” I stand up and thank George for the ride.

“Anytime.”

“Lily.” I nudge her. “You can tell George thank you too.”

“Thanks!” She gives him a big grin, revealing once again the Oreo-stained teeth. “I like your car.”

“You do?” George looks surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe I can give you a ride again sometime.”

“Yeah, and we can play soccer!”

He laughs, and I just shake my head. That's Lily for you. I wave back at George as Lily and I go into the house. Neither Mom nor Rose appear to be around. And suddenly I feel concerned for Rose. What if something happened to her and nobody even noticed?

I call her cell and am relieved when she answers. “Where are you?” I demand.

“At work.”

“But where were you last night?” I ask quietly so that Lily won't hear.

“Where do you think?”

“Did you spend the whole night with Jared?” I whisper.

“Duh.”

“Rose!”

“Don't judge me, Aster. Jared and I are in love. We're thinking about getting a place together.”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind.” She sounds exasperated now. “I have to get back to work.”

“Whatever.”

“Don't tell Mom, Aster.”

“Mom's not even speaking to me.”

We say good-bye and hang up. I cannot believe that Rose is considering living with Jared. Okay, on one hand that means I get a room to myself. But on the other hand, it seems so totally stupid. What good can possibly come of it?

“Aster?” Lily calls from the family room. “I'm hungry.”

“In a minute.” My cell phone says I have one message. I punch the button to listen and am surprised to hear Owen's voice.

“Hey, Aster. I wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't even know you left Katie's house until pretty late, and by then I was . . . well, you know. Anyway, I'm really sorry. I'll give you a call later today.”

Now I don't know whether to be happy or sad. I mean, I was so broken up over him. And then I was kind of relieved. And now I'm thinking that if a romance of a few days can be so devastatingly painful, what would it be like to be more involved? I just don't know if I can handle it. And yet . . .

16

Sunday afternoon is turning into Sunday evening, and I still haven't heard back from Owen. Why did he say he'd call if he doesn't intend to? It feels like such a setup. And now with each passing minute that he doesn't call, all I can think is that I really, really want him to call. How lame is that?

Mom came home from work around four but went to her room with a migraine, although I sort of doubt that it's for real. More likely she's trying to avoid me . . . and Lily. Of course, she didn't even ask about Rose. She probably has no idea that Rose spent the night with Jared last night. Or maybe she doesn't care. Whatever the case, I am feeling seriously frustrated with my mother.

It also occurs to me that my declaration of independence isn't going too well. How can it when Mom insists on holing up in her room? What she needs is a little more one-on-one with Lily.

That's when I decide to take George up on his offer. Didn't he say to call him if I needed help? Well, I need help!

I go into the bathroom to call so that Lily can't hear.

“What's up?” he asks.

“I want to get out of the house so that Mom can get another dose of what it's like having Lily to herself.”

“Want me to come get you?”

“Would you?”

“Glad to be of assistance.”

“Thanks!”

“I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“I'll meet you in the driveway.”

So I time it, and just a couple minutes before he should be here, while Lily is still glued to a cartoon, I go to Mom's room and knock on the door. She's sitting in her recliner watching her little TV. So much for the migraine.

“I'm going out,” I say quickly. “I'll be home around ten.”

“But, Aster—”

“Have fun!” Then before she can get out of her recliner, I make a beeline to the door and slip out without Lily even noticing. And there, just turning down my street, is the ugly-mobile. I wave, run out to the sidewalk, and jump in. Without even turning in our driveway, George keeps going.

“Sweet,” I tell him. “That was perfect.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I have no idea.” I dig my cell phone out of my bag and turn it off. I may turn it on later. Or not. I'm not sure. I am a little worried about Lily. But maybe Mom will get smarter in dealing with her, and things won't be quite so dramatic tonight.

George drives us around town until we stumble onto a
free concert at River Park. Apparently it's in celebration of summer solstice, the longest day of the year. I'm guessing it might feel like the longest day to my mother too. Anyway, I hope so.

I actually have a really fun time at the concert with George. We even dance in the area that's lit up with colorful lanterns. And while I'm standing in line for the restroom, George buys me this pretty wreath of flowers and ribbons to wear in my hair. I realize this isn't a date, but by the time he's taking me home, with the windows down, it is feeling rather magical . . . and almost romantic. And to my surprise, I haven't thought about Owen once!

“I hope things aren't too crazy in there,” George tells me when he drops me off. I've already told him all about finding Lily in the bathroom with the screwdriver last night. “Kind of like finding Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the lead pipe?” he asked, which made me laugh.

“At least no one was murdered,” I told him.

But as I go into the house, I feel worried again. On one hand, I feel like I need to get Mom's attention. But on the other hand, I would never forgive myself if something happened to Lily.

“Go to bed!” my mom is yelling from the kitchen. “And I mean now!”

“No! No! No!” Lily screams.

I peek down the hallway to see Lily sitting stubbornly on the floor. Once again her face is streaked with tears.

“Aster!” she screams, then comes running to me as if I'm her savior. She nearly knocks me over with her bear hug.

“So you decided to come home after all?” Mom's voice sounds like it's wound tight with irritation.

“I told you I'd be home around ten.”

“Well, maybe you can get Lily to bed now.”

I turn and look at Mom. “Why can't you do it?”

Mom gives me the weirdest look. It's like half fury and half hopelessness. “Because you are the one who has trained her, Aster. You seem to have all the magic answers when it comes to Lily. And unless you let some of the rest of us in on your secrets, you will be the only one who can deal with her.” Mom comes closer and peers into my face. “Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not. Don't you know why I've been taking off lately?”

Mom throws her hands in the air. “Because you are trying to drive me crazy?”

“Crazy, crazy, crazy!” Lily yells.

Now I realize it's time to turn this down a bit. Otherwise there will be no getting Lily to bed. “I want to talk to you later,” I say to Mom. She doesn't answer, just turns and walks away.

“Come on, Princess Lily,” I say in my most soothing voice.

“What's in your hair, Aster?”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, if you do a really good job getting ready for bed, I will let you wear it to sleep in, okay?”

“Is it a crown?”

“Yes.” I follow her to the bathroom, where she immediately begins to peel off her clothes, and I run the water for her bath. “It's a fairy princess crown.”

“Fairy princess?” Her eyes are wide.

“That's right.” I pour in some bath gel and check the temperature. As she gets in, I tell her about going to the park and the music and the lanterns and even dancing with George. It's like she's enchanted, and I wonder if I really do have the magic touch. But if I do, it will be more a curse than a gift if I'm stuck taking care of Lily for all our lives.

“Why you not take me to the park?” she suddenly demands, and I realize that I may have painted myself into a corner.

“Well . . .” I consider my answer. “It's because you're not old enough yet. You'll have to wait until next year, Lily.”

“I can go next year?”

“Yes,” I promise. “You can.”

“And can I wear the fairy princess crown?”

“Yes.”

Finally she is tucked into bed, and I can't help but feel proud of my work. I almost wish Mom would pop in and see just how easy this is if you do it right, but I'm pretty sure it would only make her mad.

I listen as Lily says her prayers, and after her hearty “Amen!” I place the wreath on her head. “I now crown you Princess Lily, ruler of the fairies.”

She grins and fingers a lavender ribbon. “Where
are
the fairies?”

“In your dreams,” I tell her. “Maybe you'll find them if you go to sleep.”

She leans back and closes her eyes. By the time I adjust the lights and get her door how she likes it, I think she's fallen asleep.

To my surprise, Mom is lurking in the hallway. “Did you get your baby to bed?” she asks.

I frown at her. “Lily isn't a baby,” I say quietly. “But you treat her like one.”

I consider this as I walk to the family room. Mom follows behind me, and I get the sense that she wants to talk. Okay, that's something.

I sit down on the sofa and sigh. “Sometimes it's the only way to get her to do what I want.”

“So . . . you're manipulating her?”

I stare up at my mom. “Isn't that what you do to me?”

Her brows shoot up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, for as long as I can remember, you've manipulated me to take care of Lily—
for you
.”

“I haven't manipulated you. You did it because you wanted to.” She sinks into the chair across from me and leans forward with her elbows on her knees. She looks a lot older than usual. She's wearing some old faded blue sweats, and her brown hair, which is showing gray at the roots, is sticking out in odd directions. She's obviously had a rough
night. Still, I am not backing down. This is a much-overdue conversation.

“You say things like, ‘Only you can handle her, Aster' or ‘You have the magic touch, Aster' or ‘Lily responds only to you, Aster.' If that's not manipulation, what is?”

“Well, you
are
good with her. I only say those things as compliments.”

“Good with her?” I frown. “Didn't you just say I treat her like a baby? That did not sound like a compliment.”

“I'm tired, Aster. I'm sorry if I offended you.”

“No, that's not it,” I persist. “What I'm trying to say is that you've taken advantage of me, Mom. You've given me almost sole responsibility of Lily, and I never questioned it. I think I thought it was simply my lot in life. But now I'm questioning that.”

She doesn't say anything.

“I mean, why is Lily my responsibility? Why am I the one who always has to take care of her?”

“I pay you to—”

“You pay me an
allowance
of forty bucks a week, Mom. Seriously, do you know how much time a caregiver would give you for that paltry sum? Maybe a couple of hours. I have Lily practically 24-7!”

“You know money is tight.”

“I know that you're taking advantage of me. I know that up until very recently I have not had a life.”

Her forehead creases, and I can tell she's taking this in.

“And you've probably figured out that it's no coincidence that I left Lily in your care for two days in a row.”

She shrugs. “I had a feeling . . .”

“Well, I wanted you to get a nice little taste of what my life is like.”

“But Lily is good with you.”

“Sometimes she's good. Especially after someone like you has rocked her world so hard that when she sees me coming, it's like I'm her savior.”

“But that's
your
doing, Aster. You make yourself her savior.”

I bite my lip as I consider this. “I don't mean to.”

“It's as if you and Lily do this dance,” Mom says, “as if you know the steps, you have the rhythm down . . . and I don't know how to do it.”

“It's a dance you learn by doing, Mom.”

“I don't think I can learn.” She shakes her head. “The last two evenings have made me feel like a total failure, Aster.”

“Well, I'll admit that wasn't the best way to handle Lily. But I could help you.”

“You don't understand. I work hard all day, I come home exhausted . . . I don't have the energy to deal with Lily too.”

“So what does that mean?”

She shrugs, but there's a look in her eye that's hard to read.

“What, Mom? Are you thinking of putting Lily someplace? Some kind of institution?”

“I'm thinking it might be best for everyone.”

“No!” I say. “No! No!” And then I realize I sound just like Lily now. “You can't do that, Mom. It would kill her. She needs to be with us.”

“But how?” Mom's eyes are wet with tears. “You're sitting there telling me you can't care for her anymore—”

“No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying I can't keep caring for her 24-7. I'm saying I need a break. I need a life. You're the one who seems to feel unable to care for her at all. And, Mom, she is your daughter.”

Tears are sliding down Mom's cheeks now, and I know I should be kinder, but it's like I can't help it. It's like all this stuff has been bottled up for too long. “I'm going to be seventeen next week, Mom. But I hadn't even had my first date until last week. I don't even have a best friend. My life revolves around Lily. And you might think she's good when she's with me, but trust me, she pulls some nasty tricks on me too. Just when I think things are going smoothly, Lily can rip the floor right out from under me.”