Stirring Up Trouble (7 page)

I’d forgotten how much fun screaming and thinking you were going to die could be. We had a great time. We rode all the cool rides twice. Jake made fun of me until he almost lost his breakfast for a minute there. Then, I teased him. I hadn’t laughed this much in forever.

Chapter Six

By the time we caught up with our parents at their table in the café, we were actually friends again. I’d buried all the kisses so far back in my mind, I could almost look at his lips without thinking about them.

“Zoe,” Sheree said, dipping her nacho in the spinach con queso. “Your dad says you plan to be a doctor.”

I knew I was on solid ground. I mean, who’d complain about that career path. “That’s the plan, Mrs. Townsend.”

“Call me Sheree,” she said, carefully lifting the chip to her mouth so that it wouldn’t drip on her burgundy sweater set.

Okay, so I call her Sheree and Jake calls Dad, John, but I can’t call Dad, John, and Jake can’t call Sheree, Sheree. I smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Jake doesn’t know what he wants to do,” Sheree told me, shaking her head. “He isn’t as goal-oriented as you are.”

“That’s not true,” I said, looking at Jake. “He knows he wants to help people.” I knew all about him, of course.

“He wants to put off college.” She lowered her voice as if the concept were embarrassing.

“That’s still years away,” Dad said over the clinking and clanking of dishes in the cafe.

“I want to go into the Peace Corps,” Jake said.

I wouldn’t mind his hotness so much, but did he have to be such a good guy too? He made it very hard to dislike him.

“I think that’s really nice. And selfless.” I reached for a chip.

“I guess,” Sheree muttered.

“Helping people can’t be a bad idea, right?” I looked at Jake as I said it but I sensed Sheree’s scowl.

“I think Sheree would rather he help people in a way that allows him to support himself,” Dad said, lifting his ice water to take a sip.

Great. So now we were in the middle of all their family drama. Popping the chip in my mouth, I wondered again if this whole situation was some kind of sick joke.

“Oh, Sheree,” Dad said, his voice suddenly cheerful. “Show them the pictures.”

“I forgot all about them,” she said. She reached for her purse and dug through it.

Dad had already learned how to distract her.

She pulled out two photos in cardboard frames. “Oh, they’re so cute. Look, here’s us and here are you.” She set them on the table and Jake and I dutifully looked at them.

The photographer had captured Jake with a stiff smile. He still looked hot. I didn’t look half bad, and I’d have loved to keep the picture. Of course, I pretended I wasn’t very interested. “You guys look great.”

“And this one.” She nudged it closer. “The two of you make a handsome couple.”

“Mmm,” Jake said.

“Hmm,” I said.

Then, we both turned our attention to the queso.

The ride home was quiet. Apparently, even Dad and Sheree were all talked out. Dad popped in a U2 CD from the 80s which sounded pretty decent.

Mom studied me over the mahogany dinner table once I got home. We ate in the formal dining room at least once a week so she could justify the expense of having redecorated it. “How was it?”

“Okay,” I said cutting my chicken carefully so as not to scratch the good china with my knife.

“I’m going to make you pay me a dollar for every time you say ‘okay,’” she complained. Her wart had almost disappeared and the soft light of the chandelier flattered her complexion.

“Whatever,” I said with a smile.

She knew I was teasing, but she made a move to strangle me anyway at great risk to her crystal goblets. “Tell me how it went.”

“Jake and I had fun riding the rides. Sheree and Dad got on my nerves. We ate lunch.” I shrugged. “That was about it.”

“Did you guys discuss your relationship?” she asked.

“We don’t have a relationship, Mom,” I replied. “So, no. We didn’t.” I speared a mushroom and scooped some wild rice on my fork. She’d already apologized enough for her text.

“You didn’t make up?”

“No. We agreed to make the best of a bad situation.”

“What?” She smirked. “Dollywood?”

“No. Being with Dad and Sheree.”

Mom cracked up. “I shouldn’t laugh.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” I said between bites. “If my pain makes you happy, go right ahead.”

She was still cracking up, so I decided to make her day and tell her about Dad’s basketball comment.

She almost fell out of her chair giggling. “Your father can’t even walk without hurting himself.”

“I know.” I was glad to have something to laugh about.

“Remember that time we went to Jekyll Island? He didn’t realize we’d shut the balcony door and he ran into it at full speed.” She stopped talking to laugh some more. “He left his face print on the glass.”

I did remember. He’d also broken his nose. Despite being well educated, he didn’t have a lot of common sense. And he hated doing stupid things, so he was a total jerk to live with for a month afterward. Basketball was definitely out of the question.

On Sunday night, Mom and I were watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition when the phone rang.

The call was clearly bad news. Mom paced around the house as she talked, well actually, shouted at the person on the other end.

“That was Dave,” she said coming back to the family room.

Dave is Mom’s hottie producer. He’s thirty-ish and a total doll. He’s even straight, but Mom says she isn’t interested in him.

“What’d he say?” I asked, hoping this wouldn’t take more than five minutes because they were about to show the family on TV the house.

“We were supposed to start taping a teen room makeover first thing in the morning. We were using Dave’s sister-in-law’s house. Apparently, his sister-in-law left town.”

“Why?” In real life people didn’t just leave town, did they?

Mom waved away my question. “Some marital problems or something. The house is just sitting there empty.”

“So break in.”

“We can’t do that. It will all be documented on film,” she said, as if she had actually considered the idea.

“Oh, please don’t do my room again, Mom. I like it now.” I muted the TV. So much for the show.

“I have plans for a teenage boy’s room. I have no backup plans. And I start in the morning.” She sank onto the couch in defeat.

I knew she felt bad when she started chewing on her acrylic nails. She paid a lot for those nails. Mom and the landscaping guy from Mulching with Mack were in a heated battle for the best time slot.

I’d have loved to help her out, but I didn’t have any ideas. The only teenage boy I knew well enough to ask was Jake. And she could forget that.

“We can’t just use any place. It has to be a clean house of the right size. It has to be local. The homeowners have to be willing to put up with a lot of chaos for a week.” She started chewing on the other hand.

“Can’t you do our living room or something?”

“No. I have extensive plans for a teenage boy. I’ve got nothing for a living room.”

“What were you planning for next week?” I asked. She usually planned two weeks of shooting at a time.

“A bathroom. And we can’t get the contractors until next week.” The way she was going after those nails, she could break a tooth.

“Okay. Well, there has to be a solution.” Surely, she’d think of something.

“I’m not missing a production date. I’m not giving the network any excuses for giving Mack my Saturday night slot.”

Why am I so nice? “What about Jake?” I said, wincing as I did.

“Jake’s room!” She jumped up, excited. “Perfect.”

“His mom seems to be neat, and his house is bigger than ours. I don’t know if he’ll go for it though.”

“I’ll call his mom right now,” she said, heading for the phone.

Mom always had the homeowner do the room with her. “Mom,” I called. “What about the part about working with Dad’s girlfriend?”

“I’ll live.” She turned and gave me a half-smile. “I’ve got no choice.”

An hour of animated phone calls later, Mom handed me the phone and said it was Jake.

“So, you’re doing this?” I asked him.

“Apparently. My mom seems really into it.”

This wasn’t how I pictured our first real phone conversation going. “Well, it will help my mom out. And you’ll get a cool new room.”

“I guess.”

Mom handed me a sheet of paper. I grimaced as I read it. “Umm. Jake, Mom wanted me to tell you to be sure and remove any personal items before they start tomorrow.” I shook my head in Mom’s direction.

She nodded yes.

“Okay,” he said. “Like what?”

“Well, she, um. Gave me a list. It’s for your sake you know. Okay, here goes. Anything you wouldn’t want viewers nationwide to see including but not limited to: magazines, posters, videos, screensavers, underwear, contraceptives,” I hurried through the list faster as I grew more embarrassed, “feminine hygiene products, bras, lingerie.” My cheeks were seriously burning. “This is the list Mom gives everyone, of course. Items of a private nature. And anything that may have fallen under your bed without you noticing.”

He was silent for a beat. Then, he coughed. “I can’t believe you just said those things.”

“Me either.” I thought I would die of humiliation.

“See you at school,” he said. “And I’ll be sure to hide my bras and stuff.”

Laughing helped.

After school on Monday, we rode the bus to Jake’s. This time we sat together. Several girls were whispering about us, and one of Jake’s buds kept giving him funny looks. I couldn’t wait to escape from the big yellow fishbowl.

Jake was dying to see what they were doing to his room, and I wanted to see how Mom was getting along with Sheree.

“I hope it doesn’t get around school that your mother’s been in my bedroom all day,” he joked.

“Gross.” I punched him. “You wish. My mom is hot.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve seen your dad remember.”

“So, just because he’s no hottie doesn’t mean Mom isn’t. That would mean your mom isn’t hot cuz she’s dating him.”

“My mom isn’t hot,” he said with a shudder. “She’s my mom.”

“Whatever.” We stopped to pet Indiana who greeted us with slobbery kisses.

We dodged some lighting guys, and managed to get upstairs.

“Zoe,” Mom greeted me as we walked through the wet paint smell into his room.

“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?” I looked around. They’d cleared everything out and painted the walls, two a pale blue, one with tiny brown pinstripes on blue, and the other a harsh black.

Mom was studying Jake’s reaction. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Looks good.”

Relief showed on Mom’s face. “It’s going to get even better. I’ve got a lot planned.”

Jake looked over at me. “She looks a lot like you.”

She did. Or I looked like her. “So that’s good, right?” I said.

“I think you were right earlier,” he said.

I tried not to jump up and down, because if my mother was a hottie and I looked just like her, that meant he thought I was hot. How convoluted was my life going to get?

He laughed at Mom’s confused look. “You don’t want to know, Mrs. Miller.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” she said, “but call me Annie.”

“Zoe,” Sheree called excitedly, coming in from the hall. “Your mother is so wonderful.” She swiped a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m having so much fun.”

“Great,” I said. I mean, what was I supposed to say.

“Oh, you’re a doll to work with, Sheree,” Mom said.

The only thing grosser than watching Dad flirt with Sheree was watching Mom flirt with Sheree. Even if it was in a totally non-gay way.

“Maybe they should date,” Jake muttered as we moved into the hall.

When I looked at him, he winked.

Did he have to possess a sense of humor too? I was trying to dislike him here.

“Oh yeah,” Mom called. “You can’t go in the garage, Jake. We’re making some things.”

“Uh oh,” Jake said.

“You haven’t ever seen Mom’s show have you?” I pinned him with my evil stare.

“No.” He started to look panicky. “Why?”

Mom was really very good at what she did, but I couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him. “No reason,” I said very quickly as if there totally was a reason.

“Tell me,” he threatened, his voice teasing, “or I won’t be your friend anymore.”

“You don’t have a choice.” I looked him right in the eyes and put my hands on my hips. That flirting practice was paying off. “If you cut me loose, you’re on your own with John and Sheree.”

His eyes widened in mock horror. “Dear God. No!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anya demanded, plunking her books down on the desk the next morning in English class.

Uh oh. “Tell you what?” That I’ve been in love with your boyfriend for three years? I braced myself.

Her bracelets jangled as she flipped her hair. I hated it when she did that.

“That your mom’s doing Jake’s room!” She crossed her arms as if she had any right to be offended.

Well, I wasn’t going to let her get away with that. “I didn’t tell you because you aren’t speaking to me. Remember?”

“Don’t be silly.” She quickly dropped her arms. “Of course I’m speaking to you.”

Stand your ground. “Okay then. I guess I’m not speaking to you.”

“Don’t try to pick a fight, Zoe. I’m sorry I made you mad. But that’s how I really feel.”

“How’d you hear about Jake’s room anyway?” I whispered as Mrs. Moore started talking.

She rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

“So how come you didn’t know yesterday?”

She actually looked guilty. “I’ve been really busy.”

“With Brad.” Keeping my eye on Mrs. Moore, I said, “If you’re so busy, why do you care who Jake spends time with?”

“I just do.”

After school, we took the bus again so we could check on Mom’s progress. This time, we were the last ones on. Jake sat with Kent. I found a seat with a girl from my English class.