Glistening Once Again

"EAT THE CRANBERRIES!" Zeke shouts, shoving a handful of berries into Genevieve's face.

"Noooo! Not the deathberries!" I exclaim, smiling.

Zeke throws a berry at Geneveive, and it hits her cheek. Some of the juice catches in a divot in her skin and rolls down face. Genevieve was born with a series of crack-like birthmarks reaching down the left side of her body. She usually wears a lot of concealer or face powder to cover up the slight discoloration---the divots and lines are a bit darker than the rest of her face---so she always smells kind of musty-sweet, like the makeup she uses.

The incident with the McDermots at Rite Aid is pretty much forgotten, and now we've absorbed ourselves in making cranberry and popcorn garlands. At least, Genevieve and I are making them. Aspen got bored long ago (which we all knew would happen), and Zeke is pretty much focused on distracting Genevieve, adding a cranberry every several minutes to his garland. I steadily string popcorn onto mine, half paying attention to where my needle is going, half watching Zeke's antics. We put the FM radio on, and Bing Crosby slowly croons nostalgia-infused music through the speakers, a stark contrast to us, laughing and throwing small, red berries at each other. Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" shouts Noelle from her room before running down the stairs, jumping the last few, and swinging into the hall. I look at Aspen, who's lying on the couch with one leg in the air, making different shapes with his scarlet-painted toes. He shrugs---it's probably just an amazon package.

As we soon learn, it's not an amazon package. From the hall, we hear a familiar voice say, "hello. I am Maureen McDermot." All of our heads whip in the direction her voice comes from. "I am your across-the-street-neighbor."

Suddenly interested in something other than her cranberry garland, Genevieve gets up and stealthily pads over to the entrance of the hall, pressing herself against the wall, the only thing that separates us from Mrs. McDermot.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. McDermot," says Noelle. "I'm Noelle Morissey---won't you come in?"

As Noelle calls for Mom before running back upstairs, Genevieve frantically waves her arm, and we all get up, cross the living room and dive into the kitchen just as Mrs. McDermot comes around the corner. Noelle, who's explaining to Mom what's going on, sees me and raises her eyebrows, but Mrs. McDermot doesn't notice us, too busy is she with her sermon.

"My granddaughter, Fenella, and I moved here about a month ago. We've been very busy getting everything organized and set up, so we haven't been to see you. However, I'd very much like to become acquainted with your family. Do you have any daughters?"

I can tell from Mom's voice that she's a little taken aback. "Two---my eldest, Noelle, is fifteen."

"Hmm." I can practically see Mrs. McDermot's expression---one of suspicious judgement. "And the others?"

"There's one other... Molly. She's fourteen. She has a couple of friends over for the holidays, actually." The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, but Mrs. McDermot doesn't seem to recognize my name from the grocery store this morning---sometimes being forgettable (aka, not Aspen) is useful.

"Perfect!" exclaims Mrs. McDermot. "Perhaps your Molly and my Fenella can become friends. Fenella is home-schooled, you see, so it would be beneficial for her to have some friends in Lazarus. Is your daughter at home?"

"Yes," Mom says, uncertainly. "I can call her. Molly?"

Surprising myself, I actually step out into the living room. "Yeah, mom?" Suddenly, I notice Fenella, and I jump. She hasn't said a word, and I didn't know she'd come in with Mrs. McDermot.

"Hello, Molly. I am Maureen McDermot." Mrs. McDermot really doesn't seem to recognize me. "My daughter Fenella and I have just moved to Lazarus, and we don't know anybody. I was wondering if you might take Fenella under your wing, and show her around the town a little bit. Make her feel welcome, if you will."

I gulp, gather myself, and get ready to force words out of my mouth, but Mom saves me before I have to.

"Actually, could we have Fenella over for dinner tomorrow? Molly's friends are all very accepting, and I'm sure they'd love to have her."

"Very well. That would do nicely." Mrs. McDermot stands up, and Fenella rises promptly as well. "When shall I send her over?"

Mom still looks unsettled and a little confused. "We usually have dinner at around six thirty."

"It's a date, then." Mrs. McDermot puts an arm around Fenella's shoulders, and leads her to the hall. "We thank you for the hospitality, Mrs. Morissey."

Mom opens the door for them and closes it when they get to the curb. As soon as the latch clicks again, Noelle jumps into the hall.

"The nerve!" she exclaims, looking genuinely indignant. "She just waltzes in here and sets up a---a daycare for her granddaughter and then just leaves?!"

Mom crosses the room and puts a hand on Noelle's shoulder. "Hon, I'm glad I got the chance to invite Fenella over to this house because that one's not doing her any favors. I know a child who needs more affection when I see one, and that one needs a lot."

"We'll love her until her hair falls out!" exclaims Aspen, rushing to Noelle and wrapping his arms around her dramatically.

"I don't know." Genevieve steps out, putting a hand to her mouth. We all know what's going to happen. "What if she... what if she---I just don't want her to ruin this." Genevieve promptly bursts into tears, her face falling. Mom goes to her, stroking her hair and hugging her.

"It's okay, hon. It's okay. Just let it out."

"I miss my parents." Genevieve heaves another sob, her small frame shaking, tears gathering in the birthmark divots all down the left side of her body. "And I thought I might miss Lazarus, but I don't. I mean, Savannah, Molly, Noelle, I missed you, but the rest of the city... it's just as bad as I remember. I don't know what I hoped would change, but---" she sniffs and wipes her eyes "---everything is exactly the same, and the worst part is that it feels like home and I have no idea why. Home should be where I live, now, shouldn't it? It's better there. It's where my family is."

Mom leads Genevieve over to the couch, where she sinks into the cushions, wiping at her birthmarks furiously to get the tears out of all the cracks and crevices. Zeke sits on her other side so he can put an arm around her, and she buries her face in his sweatshirt. Aspen circles around to the back of the couch. He looks so big next to her. Genevieve is thirteen---fifteen-year-old Aspen is a full two years older than her. I always forget that, since Zeke and I are in the middle.

~~~

Three Years Ago

10:00 pm

"Guys?" its Genevieve. I saw this coming---we all agree to go to bed, and then Gen suddenly has something to say. All of us, me, Aspen, and Esther, sit up, though. Every time this happens, it's serious, and it usually involves Genevieve crying.

She clears her throat. "Guys... I've never had a crush. Like, never. On anybody."

"Oh, is that all?" laughs Aspen, before Esther glares at him. "Sorry, I just thought it might be more... critical, you know?"

"It is critical!" cries Genevieve. "I feel weird!"

Esther shrugs. "I didn't think I ever had crushes, either, until Aspen's mom told me about her friend Liz and her wife, Uma. Up until then, I didn't realize that I could have crushes on anyone except boys."

"I already thought of that! After you told me you had a crush on Nora Brannon, I tried to imagine having crushes on girls, but it doesn't work, either... I don't think I can get crushes on anyone." she sits there in an emotional silence. In the back of my mind, I know what Genevieve feels like. We've all felt alone at one time or another. I've never dealt with this particular problem, but the feeling that no one else is like you is something we've all shared before. No one speaks for a long time.

"Do you like the idea of dating someone?" Esther asks, quietly. "Be honest."

Genevieve wrinkles her nose. "Not really, I guess. It seems too complicated, and I'd honestly just rather be friends with people. I don't know, I just feel strange---I should get crushes like everybody else."

I shrug. A crush---it's a small thing, but small things are important when they make you feel strange. "It's okay with us, Gen---I mean, you're only ten. You've got years before you really have to start thinking about this dating stuff."

"I guess."

~~~

Genevieve's stopped crying, now. Knowing that she has to be the one to change the subject, she slides back down onto the floor in front of the coffee table and begins stringing cranberries onto her garland again. For the first time in at least half an hour, Aspen strings another piece of popcorn onto his, and we fall into a peaceful silence, noting that the radio has switched from Bing Crosby to Perry Como. As "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" winds its way through the room, Genevieve begins to sing along. Under normal circumstances, Aspen would be singing as well, but somehow he understands that this is important, and Genevieve's thin, flute-like voice mingles with the lower tones of Perry Como. I can picture Noelle up in her room, reading a mystery and listening to Genevieve sing. Mom's in the kitchen, puttering around, and she doesn't interrupt. No one does. We're all okay again. We forget about the McDermots (even though Zeke's thoughts do seem a bit occupied), and focus on finishing the garlands, stringing popcorn and cranberries methodically onto the thread. This usually happens, and it's always going to be okay with us. Genevieve is really attached to her parents, and gets overwhelmed easily when she has to be away from them for long periods of time. That's why she got a smart phone in second grade.

~~~

Seven Years Ago

Lunchtime at Lazarus Elementary School

"Over here! Aspen, over here!" Esther calls, head peeking out from behind the stage curtain. Aspen gives a thumbs-up and walks faster. When he gets here, he sits down and asks, "Gen, can I have a turn with the phone, now?" He leans over Genevieve's shoulder, and she swats him away without looking up from the screen. I raise my eyebrows at him. He should know better than to try to look at what she's typing. After a few more moments, she looks up.

"Alright, who's next?"

I need to text my parents, to tell them that I'm feeling really sick. I can't stay at school. I swear, if I stay here a minute longer, I will throw up... but Esther also needs the phone. Aspen does. too. The kids made fun of his backpack again. Honestly, I really don't know what's so wrong with Cinderella. Eliza Jane Abernathy has the same one. Aspen's not scared, but he probably should be. The seventh graders told him they'd be waiting after school for him on the route where he walks home. He thinks he can stay at school, but I want him to leave. His mom works at a cafe near here---she can probably come get him if he asks really nicely. It might save him another skinned knee. Esther wants to use the phone. I can see it. Muscles tensing and eyes darting. Genevieve sees it, too, and she extends her arm.

"You take it, Es."

"No," Esther says, moving Genevieve's hand so it points to me. "Molly, you use it first. Then Aspen."

My eyes widen, and I start to shake my head, but Esther takes the phone and presses it into my palm. I turn and hold it out to Aspen, but he shakes his head.

"Molly, text your mom."

I work my way around the keyboard, and, slowly but surely, I type out my message, and Mom responds. I nod at Aspen and pass him the phone. He texts his mom, who needs a bit more convincing to leave work, especially since Aspen is a little half-hearted in his attempts. Just as the bell rings, saying we have to go back to class, Aspen's mom consents. I look at Esther, who shrugs. Genevieve takes back the phone and shoves it in her backpack, where the other kids won't be able to see it. I look around, forgetting that we're behind the curtain on the stage. It'll have to be somewhere else, tomorrow. They keep finding new places to put us. We can't be in the main lunchroom, you see, because it's too much work for them to get our classmates to stop throwing bits of food at us, and they have to keep moving us around because, eventually, someone will find where we eat.

Aspen and Genevieve take the lead, striding back down the hall to the second and third grade classrooms. I look at Esther again, who smiles down at me and takes my hand.

"Don't worry about me, Mol. I'll be fine."

We say our goodbyes to Aspen where the hallway branches off into the third and fourth grade hallway and the second, first and kindergarten hallway. There are quick hugs and hasty "Iove you!"s before Aspen goes one way and Genevieve, Esther and I go another way. I look back as we pass the copy room and see Noelle coming out of Ms. Hanes's room. She takes Aspen's hand and leads him inside with a smile. I turn back to Esther and Genevieve. I know what's going to happen. We're going to get back to class. We might have to deal with a few jeers or spitballs, but nothing too bad. We'll sit down. Genevieve will try to get as much work done as possible before her dad comes. I'll try not to throw up while Esther holds my hands and we both pretend to be productive. Eventually, the phone will have rung three times, and, one by one, we'll leave. Genevieve gets picked up first, this time. A few minutes later, the phone rings for me, and as I leave the classroom with my backpack, I look back at Esther, who smiles and makes a shoo-ing motion. I turn to go, and I remember words that seem to have been spoken a long, long time ago.

"Don't worry about me, Mol. I'll be fine."

As I scurry down the hallways to the office, feeling increasingly smaller as I walk by teachers and older kids, I realize something. Esther didn't get to use the phone. No one's coming to pick Esther up.

Esther doesn't get to go.

In the middle of the lobby, I stop, suddenly. I think I hear a teacher ask, "hey, are you alright?" but I don't remember replying. Mom arrives at some point (when, I don't remember), and she shepherds me away into the car. We commence the drive home, and I don't speak, but Mom doesn't expect me to. When we get home, I curl up in my bed. I'm a little ball of Molly, and nothing else can get in. Mom is asking me how I'm doing, and I'm replying with a moan. Then Mom is leaving to go put some more pies in the oven, and I'm left to think. I'm thinking about everything, then nothing, then everything again, but, finally, I'm just thinking about Esther.

Esther, who doesn't get to go home.

~~~

I turn and smile at Zeke. Gen has stopped singing, so I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, Noelle bounds down the stairs.

"Hey, guys, guess what!?"

"What?!" exclaims Aspen, sitting up promptly, eyes wide, as if extremely glad to find someone who isn't content to be silent.

"I just read a thing on a blog about these teenagers last year who, like, went around their town and did this thing."

"Wow, specific---can I read?" Aspen drawls, extracting himself from our midst and going to stand beside Noelle. Funny---I never really noticed how tall he is compared to her, a strawberry-blonde boy with delicate features and perfected nude-tone eye-shadow looking over the shoulder of a curvy brunette who's wearing very red lipstick. Speaking of makeup, Noelle was the one who taught Aspen how to do it. It took them hours, and I smile at the memory. Noelle isn't even a fan of anything except her signature red lipstick, but she does know how to do a lot of stuff 'just in case.' Aspen is hardly a natural, but he was determined to learn. I remember laughing at how his hands couldn't stop shaking as he tried to apply eyeliner to Noelle's lids---he was afraid he'd stab her by accident. Now, of course, he's a pro at it, but it took a ridiculous amount of practice.

"Whoa, guys! We should totally do this!" Aspen's voice jerks me back to the present, and I look at him, startled.

"D-do what?"

"This thing!"

Noelle elbows him in the ribs. "Now who's vague, huh?"

"Shut up," Aspen laughs, pushing her shoulder. "Anyway, there were these kids from a town in Washington, I think, who, last year, walked around their town, like Noelle said. It was the holidays, and they decided to just, you know, do a bunch of things in the spirit of said holidays---like, participate in all the Christmas stuff that their town had to offer. Do everything. On top of that, they went around and tried to do good deeds for people. Either random, anonymous things, or asking people if they could do something for them. Yeah, so, I thought it might be fun, you know? Really get into Christmas while we're here and just try to have fun!"

Genevieve nods her head. "That sounds cool to me---I'm always up for Christmas!"

Zeke assents as well, and then all eyes are on me. I clear my throat, and my voice comes out stronger than normal.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do it."