Amber Brown Goes Fourth (9 page)

She’s just given me a present and I’ve opened it . . . . . and it’s the mermaid.

I’m so excited.

Wait until I tell Brandi.

It’s going to be such a fun, friend, sharing thing.

“Thanks, Mom.” I grin at her. “You’re the best.”

“Read the card,” she says softly.

I read the card.

I put the mermaid down. “I don’t want it.”

My mother says, “Amber” in a soft, sad voice.

I hate it when she uses that soft, sad voice.

“It’s not fair.” I make a face. “He’s being so nice.”

“He
is
so nice.” She smiles. “You have no idea how hard it was to find the mermaid. I called Gregory’s mom to find out
what company made the doll, and then Max called the company to find out where he could buy it . . . . and he called five stores before he found one that had it and would send it to him special delivery.”

I look at the mermaid. “It’s just a dumb doll. I’m getting too old for dolls anyway . . . . especially for dolls that are bribes.”

“Amber.” My mother uses that voice again. “Max just wanted to do something that would make you happy . . . . to make me happy . . . . to make all of us happy. And he just wants to meet you.”

She looks as sad as her voice sounds.

She looks sad, real sad, not the kind of sad that moms sometimes pretend when they want to get their kids to do something.

I guess she needs to make new friends, too . . . . . and Max is that new friend. It looks like he’s not going away.

I look at the doll and think again about how Brandi is going to laugh when she sees
the mermaid . . . . . . . how we’ll be able to share it.

I think about how it would have been even better if I had won the other one for burping.

It would have been even better if my dad had gotten the mermaid for me.

But he’s in Paris . . . . and I don’t think he realized how much I wanted the mermaid.

And then I look at Mom and how sad she is because I wouldn’t take the mermaid, and how happy she looked when she talked about how Max got the mermaid for me.

So I pick up the mermaid and say, “I’ll write Max a thank-you note.”

My mother has me trained to write thank-you notes even though I think it is one of the most boring things in the world to do.

“Maybe someday soon, you’ll meet Max,” she says.

I start to hand back the mermaid.

“It doesn’t have to be right away.” She pushes the mermaid back toward me.

“You really like him, don’t you.” I’m not sure that I want to hear the answer.

She nods. “I do. . . . Amber, life goes on. Things change. We all have to adjust, make new friends, new lives, keep what we can of our old lives . . . the good parts. . . .”

I think about how I’ve had to do that.

I decide to ask the question that I’m really not sure that I want to hear the answer to. “Are you going to marry Max?”

My mother takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure. It’s too soon to know that . . . but truthfully, I do care for him a great deal . . . . a great deal.”

Two “a great deals.”. . . . This sounds pretty serious.

“So will you meet him?” she asks.

I shrug. “Do I have to? Right now?”

“Not yet . . . . . not if you really don’t feel ready, but I would like you to meet him someday . . . . . soon.” She looks so serious.

I look at her, at the mermaid, think about my father, and sigh. “Soon . . . not yet though, please. I need to get used to some things first.”

When I was little, I thought that things were always going to be the same. Actually, it wasn’t even something I thought about . . . . it just always was the same, in all the big ways.

And then it all changed, in all the big ways.

And I hate it.

But I, Amber Brown, can’t change it back again to the way it was.

I guess that there will always be changes in my life.

I guess it’s like that for everyone.

It’s that way for everyone I know—me, Justin, our families, Brandi.

So, I guess that I just have to go on getting used to my new life, my new class . . . . . Amber Brown Goes Fourth . . . . that’s the way it is . . . . . at least, until I get to fifth grade. . . . Then I guess it’ll be Amber Brown Takes the Fifth . . . . . . . . . .

But I have a long way to go before that happens.

AMBERINO CERTIFICATES

I, Amber Brown, being of sound mind and no money (I spent it all on a book, a computer game, and some junk food), do hereby give my mother five Amberino Certificates for her birthday.

Amberino Certificates allow The Mother (Sarah Thompson) to ask her beloved only child (Amber Brown) to grant her five wishes. . . . Just remember, these have to be wishes that I can actually do . . . . not stuff
like move the Empire State Building or eat spinach or find the cure for dandruff (not that you have it or anything). Just remember, I’m just a nine-year-old kid, so make the wishes doable . . . but then you always do!!!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND LOVE FROM

I, Amber Brown, am being held captive by a madwoman.

That madwoman is my mother, and she’s very mad at me for having a messy room.

She’s also very mad at me because my teacher, Mrs. Holt, sent home a note saying that I’m “not working up to the best of [my] ability.”

My mother is very, very mad at me because of the note. Actually what she said is that what she’s very angry about is the reason for the note . . . . me not doing my schoolwork the way I should.

Now I’m supposed to be a perfect little student.

And she’s using one of the Amberino Certificates to make me clean up my room.

She says that I can’t leave my room until it’s “neat as a pin.”

How can a room be neat as a pin? Does a pin have a bed in it—a dresser, curtains, a person living in it?

The words “neat as a pin” are the second-silliest thing I’ve ever heard.

The first-silliest thing is expecting me to have a neat room.

I wish I never gave her those Amberino Certificates for her birthday.

Doesn’t she know that if my room is neat, I can’t find anything?

It makes me nervous if everything is too organized.

She never used to mind that my room wasn’t neat.

She never used the Amberinos to make me clean it up.

The telephone rings.

I rush out to answer it.

My mother gets to it first, picks it up, and listens.

Then she says, “Brandi, I’m sorry, Amber can’t come to the phone. . . . .”

“I’m at the phone. . . . I don’t have to come to the phone.” I pull on my mother’s sleeve.

My mother points her finger at my room. “Back, Amber. . . . I’m serious. You have to clean your room before you do anything else.”

“But Mom. . . .”

“No ‘But Mom’s,’” she says. “CLEAN YOUR ROOM. . . . NOW.”

She starts talking on the phone. “Brandi, she can call you back as soon as her room is clean. . . . . Yes, I’ll remind her to bring her
new game cartridge when she goes to your house tonight . . . if she gets her room organized by then, you will see her and the game. Otherwise, I’m not sure you’ll see either.”

I stomp into my room.

This isn’t fair.

My room is a little messy, but I, Amber Brown, don’t think she’s really angry about my messy room.

I think that my mom is really angry because I don’t want to meet her dumb boyfriend.

That’s one of the big reasons why she’s in such a bad mood.

Just because she wanted to use one of her Certificates to have me finally meet Max and go out to dinner with them . . . and just because I said, “No, I’m not ready yet, and you promised I don’t have to until I’m ready. You promised that a long time ago . . . . so the Certificate can’t make me go.”

If I meet Max, I’ll have to actually know that he’s a real person . . . . a real person who is going out with my mom . . . . and if my mom is going out with him . . . . . that really means that there’s less chance that she and my dad will get back together.

And what if I meet Max and actually like him? That wouldn’t be fair to my dad, who’s in Paris, France, which is so far away.