My So-Called Family (3 page)

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Authors: Courtney Sheinmel

BOOK: My So-Called Family
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chapter three

T
he next Friday, Avery invited me over to her house. I had to pick up Charlie from kindergarten because Mom needed extra time writing. Charlie gets out of school about ten minutes after I do, but he doesn't start until after lunchtime. It's because the kindergarten has a morning program and an afternoon program. Mom wanted Charlie in the morning program, but it fills up quickly, and since we moved over the summer, he was signed up too late. I think Charlie is lucky to be five years old. He could sleep in late every morning if he wanted to, but somehow he's always up at the crack of dawn and downstairs eating breakfast even before my alarm clock goes off. I was like that too, when I was younger. Now I'm never awake before my alarm clock goes off.

It takes only five minutes to get over to Charlie's school from mine, but I have to leave right after my last class so I won't be late. Avery said she didn't mind coming with me, so we sprinted over to the elementary school together. Charlie's teacher was sitting by the front door of the school, shaking hands with all the kids as they left. Charlie was standing in line. “That's him,” I told Avery. “The one with the striped red shirt.”

“Oh, he's so cute,” Avery said. “He looks so mature, like a little man.” “Mature” seemed like the wrong word for Charlie. After all, he's just a little kid and he's short for his age, which makes him look younger than most of the other kids. He hates that. I watched him shake Mrs. Trager's hand. He looked so serious as he pumped his hand up and down. Then he turned to face the crowd of parents and babysitters gathered to pick up the kids. When he saw me, he grinned his lopsided grin. There was something white pinned to his shirt, probably one of those letters that teachers attach to the kids so they don't forget to give it to their parents. It flapped in the breeze as he ran toward me.

“Leah!” Charlie said.

I introduced Charlie to Avery. Suddenly shy, he leaned against me. I nudged him, hoping he would shake her hand, but he stayed glued to my side. I pulled at the paper on his shirt.

“That's for Mom and Dad,” Charlie said. He was speaking softly, and I pretended I couldn't hear him.

“What?”

“It's for Mom and Dad,” he said again, just a little more loudly. “Mrs. Trager pinned letters to everyone's shirts so we wouldn't lose them.”

I unhooked the safety pin and put the letter into my backpack. “Guess what?” I said. “I'm going to Avery's house now, and she invited you, too.”

“Really?” Charlie asked. He loves when I include him in things. It's the best part of him being so much younger. Sometimes it's annoying when he wants to hang out with me all the time. But then there are the times when he comes into my room at night and sits on my bed and just watches me. No matter what I'm doing, even if I'm just doing my homework, he sits there captivated. I get worried that as he gets older, he won't think I'm so special.

“Yup,” I told him. “You get to come.”

“Hey, Charlie,” Avery said, bending down so she was at his eye level, “do you like chocolate chip cookies?” Charlie shrugged, still shy. “Well,” Avery continued, “I was going to say we could make them at my house, but maybe you don't like chocolate.”

“I like chocolate,” Charlie said softly.

“I don't know,” Avery said.

“I do, I do like chocolate!” Charlie said, loudly now. “My favorite movie is even
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
.”

“It is?” Avery said. She threw her head back and began to sing, “Oompa loompa doopidy doo.” Charlie giggled. “Come on, sing with me.”

“You're crazy,” Charlie said.

“I know,” Avery said. “Now sing.”

“I've got another puzzle for you,” Charlie sang.

“You sound great,” Avery told him. She extended a hand toward him and he took it. Then he reached up for my hand, and we walked like that, all three of us connected, to Avery's house.

Avery's mom was home when we got there. She had the same dark hair and clear skin as Avery, and she told me I could call her by her first name, which is Lori. We dropped our bags in the front hall and went straight into the kitchen because Charlie could hardly wait to get started on the cookies. Lori followed us. She opened up cabinets. “I have no idea if we even have flour and sugar and all that.”

“We're okay, Mom,” Avery said.

“Good,” Lori said. “I don't have time to help you anyway. I have to pack because Dad and I are going away for the weekend.”

“You're going away?” Avery asked.

“Uh-huh,” Lori said. “Some bigwig from Dad's office decided to invite us to his country house in East Hampton. I'm betting we were invited because another couple canceled, but you know Dad—he never turns down an invitation to mingle with those corporate guys. I know it's the last minute, so I hope you're okay with it. I already talked to Chase, and he said he'd keep an eye on you.”

“Mom,” Avery said. “I'm practically fourteen. I don't need Chase to keep an eye on me.”

“Fine,” Lori said. “Then you can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't have any wild parties or burn the house down. Also, we have those tickets for the Broadway matinee of
The Lion King
tomorrow, so you can each bring a friend. Chase is bringing Lizzie, of course—don't tell your father.” Lori turned to me. “Have you ever seen a Broadway show?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “We just moved to New York. I saw a couple plays in Baltimore, though.”

“Well, now Avery has an extra ticket for you,” Lori said. “Trust me, there's nothing like a show on Broadway.” I hoped Avery wouldn't be upset that her mom had invited me to use the extra ticket. Maybe she'd wanted to bring Brenna or Callie. Lori said she'd be upstairs packing if we needed her.

“So can you come?” Avery asked.

“I think I'm free,” I said. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Avery said.

“I'm free too,” Charlie piped up. “Do I get to go?
The Lion King
is my favorite!”

“I thought
Willy Wonka
was your favorite,” Avery said.

“They're both my favorites,” Charlie told her.

“Well, you're lucky because you get to watch them both when we get home,” I told him. Sometimes the best way to deal with kids is to distract them. I knew if I mentioned watching the movies, Charlie would forget all about the play.

“Will you watch with me?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Now help me put the chocolate chips into a bowl.”

“Oh, cool,” Charlie said. I opened the bag and handed it to him. He poured the chocolate chips in slowly and carefully. He spilled only a couple and I let him eat the ones that didn't make it into the bowl.

When Charlie and I got home that evening, we carried a package of fresh-baked cookies. They were still warm from the oven, and I could feel them through the tinfoil as I carried them into the house. “I think they're still gooey,” I told Charlie.

“Can I have one?” he asked. He'd already had three cookies plus a few chocolate chips back at Avery's house.

“You'd better ask Mom and Dad,” I told him. Even though I call Simon by his first name when I'm talking to him, I call him Dad when I'm speaking to Charlie.

“Mom! Dad!” Charlie called.

Mom and Simon told Charlie he'd have to wait until after dinner for another cookie. I went upstairs to drop my backpack in my room and get started on my homework. I know it's kind of dorky, but I like to at least get started on my homework on Fridays so I'll have more of the weekend free. I pulled out my math notebook. There was enough time to finish my math work sheet before dinner.

Later on, when Mom called me for dinner, I picked up the letter from Charlie's teacher that I'd stuffed into my backpack and headed downstairs. There was a box of pizza on the table and paper plates instead of our regular dishes. Mom never cooks when she's on a deadline, which is fine with me since pizza is one of my favorite meals. “Don't get too used to this,” Mom said. “My book is almost done.”

I sat down in the same chair I always used. Right when we'd moved in, I'd claimed it for myself. It's the chair that's positioned kind of in the corner of the room, up against the back wall. If I tilt my head in the right way, I can see the screen of the television in the next room, and no one can even tell. Sometimes Mom and Simon forget to turn it off, and then I can watch TV while I eat, although I have to be careful not to look like I'm watching TV. Technically I'm not allowed to watch TV during a family meal. Now I could see
The Lion King
movie playing in the other room. Charlie must have started watching it without me.

We each took a slice of pizza, and Mom reached over to help Charlie cut his into bite-size pieces. “You guys got a letter from Charlie's teacher,” I said. Since Mom's hands were busy, I handed it to Simon.

“What's it say? What's it say?” Charlie asked, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Settle down,” Mom told him. She slipped a piece of pizza into his mouth. “So?” she said to Simon.

Simon read the letter to himself. “Chuck,” he said. Simon's the only one who calls Charlie “Chuck.” “It looks like this month is Family Month at school and your class is going to do a big project on families.”

“I know,” Charlie said. “Mrs. Trager told us. First I have to interview you and Mom, and then I have to interview Leah, and then I get to make a big poster of the whole family. It's called a family tree. Each person is a branch.” Charlie held his arms out like a tree. “Like this. I'm a branch. Isn't that funny?” He threw his head back and laughed. Mom says he has the deep-throated laugh of her father. I remembered Avery saying Charlie looked like a little man.

“You've got two branches there,” Mom said. She traced her fingers along each of his arms, and then poked him in the belly. “And a trunk,” she added.

“How many branches on my family tree?” Charlie asked.

“Well,” Simon said, “there are four for us. And then Grandma Diane and Grandpa Willie, and Uncle Eric and Aunt Amy and all your cousins.”

“What about my other grandma and grandpa? Do they get branches even though they're dead?”

“Yes,” Mom said. “Grandma Leah and Grandpa Izzy get branches too.”

I pictured Charlie's tree in my head, with all the branches from Simon's side of the family on one side of the trunk, and all the branches from Mom's side of the family on the other side. I was glad I didn't have to make that kind of thing when I was in kindergarten, or else it would have been a lopsided tree. Things like that would always be easier for Charlie, and I was jealous. I bet he would never have to worry about his family being normal.

“Are you going to help me with the poster?” Charlie asked Mom.

“Leah can help you,” Mom said. “She's a much better artist than I am.” It's true. Mom may write well, but she never illustrates anything she's written. She says she's just not creative that way. But drawing is one of my favorite things to do.

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie said. “Leah will help me.”

“Oh,
yes
,” Mom corrected him.

Charlie turned to me. “Can we start tomorrow?” he asked. “Daddy can take us to buy poster board. Right, Daddy? It's Saturday, so you don't have work.”

“Sure thing, Chuck,” Simon said. “And we can get started on those interviews, too.”

“I could interview everyone at the family reunion!” Charlie said. Simon's family always has a big reunion in the spring. There are a lot of people in the Ross family, and they all sit around on picnic benches and pinch all the little kids' cheeks. Simon's brother wears a big chef's hat and barbecues about a thousand hot dogs and hamburgers. Then all the cousins run around and chase one another, and Mom says how fabulous it is to be married to Simon and be a part of such a big and wonderful family. Of course I'm supposed to agree with her about that. But the truth is that I don't really like going, since Simon's family clearly likes Charlie more than they like me. After all, he's Simon's real kid—the one they're actually related to.

“Well, the reunion's not for a few months,” Simon said. “But you can interview everyone over the phone. You know how Grandma loves to talk to you on the phone.”

“Uh-huh,” Charlie said. “And then Leah and me can make the poster tomorrow.”

“Leah and
I
,” Mom said. “And yes, you can.”

“Except I'm busy tomorrow,” I said.

“What are you doing?” Mom asked.

“My friend Avery invited me to a Broadway show tomorrow,” I told her. “Her parents can't use the tickets, so I'm going with Avery and her brother, Chase. He's driving us into the city.”

“Is the show at night?” Simon asked.

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