Natalie Wants a Puppy (3 page)

“
You
sit in back! I was here first.” Brianna is Laurie’s sister who’s in fifth grade. She locks the front door of Laurie’s van before Sarah can open it.

“You’re there first because you didn’t help us with the shower!” Sarah shouts.

“Please, Sarah,” their mom begs, “just get in. You can have front both ways next time.”

Sarah scoots into the backseat. Laurie and I scoot in after her. “Brianna always gets her way,” Sarah mutters. She tosses a big Bible into the front seat. It lands on Brianna.

“Stop it!” Brianna shouts.

“It’s
your
Bible!” Sarah shouts. “We’re crowded back here.”

Brianna tosses the Bible back to Sarah’s lap.

Sarah tosses it back, hard.

“Mother, make her stop!” Brianna cries.

“Girls, please!” their mom shouts.

Brianna looks over the front seat at me. “See what you have to look forward to?”

“Me?” I get ready to catch a Bible.

“Yeah, you,” Brianna says. “No more only child for you. I’d give anything to be an only child.”

“If I’d had my way,” Sarah says, “you would have been an only child…in someone else’s family.”

“Girls!” yells their mother.

“They don’t mean it,” Laurie whispers.

“Oh, yeah, we do mean it,” Brianna insists. “You’ll see.” She turns on the car radio too loud for more talking.

At Laurie’s house, we change into her clothes. She lets me wear her only purple shorts. We are the exactly same size, except she’s bigger.

“I wish
we
were sisters,” I tell Laurie.

“Yeah,” she said. “Only maybe we’d fight like Sarah and Bri.”

“No way!” I say, on account of Laurie and I
never
fight most of the time.

“Want to see what’s on TV?” Laurie asks.

We go to the living room, but her dad has boring stuff on the TV. Like baseball. He’s asleep in the big chair.

Sarah lies down on the couch. “Mother!” she shouts without opening her eyes. “Make Brianna turn her music down!”

It’s true that Brianna’s music is louder than the baseball noises on TV. Their dad is still sleeping through the whole thing.

Laurie’s mom goes into Brianna’s room, and the
music gets lower. Brianna sticks her head out of her door and screams, “I hate you, Sarah!”

“Goes double for me!” Sarah screams back.

“Let’s go outside,” Laurie says.

Instead of real swings, Laurie’s dad hung a big tire on a tree. It’s pretty cool. Only we both don’t fit. Her tree isn’t as big as Frank, the tree in my backyard. So it’s harder to climb.

We sit by their sandbox. Only there’s mostly dirt in there.

“What if I get a brother who’s like Brianna?” I ask Laurie.

“Bri’s okay,” Laurie says. “I’m pretty sure she’ll turn into a nice sister someday. Sarah did.”

“Wasn’t Sarah always nice?” I think Laurie’s big sister is the prettiest and nicest sister I know. Plus, she wears lipstick. And once she painted my fingernails
and
my toenails.

“Sarah used to write ‘kick’ on my back and then kick me,” Laurie says. “And she’d hit me without even writing first.”

I can hardly believe this thing. “Really?”

“Really. Only she didn’t kick or hit hard. And she always wrote with lipstick.”

“Do Sarah and Brianna really hate each other?” I ask.

“Nah,” Laurie answers. “They love each other.”

“This isn’t how we do love at our house,” I say. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Laurie answers. “Only sometimes they forget.”

We go back to Laurie’s room and have a picnic with her dolls. I’m a stuffed-animal girl, and she is a doll girl. Only we don’t have to fight about it.

After our picnic, we walk out to the living room. Laurie’s dad is still asleep in his chair.

“Shush!” Brianna says. She’s kneeling by the couch, where Sarah is sleeping. Sarah is on her back, with one arm over her head and the other arm dangling off the couch.

“What’s Brianna doing?” I whisper.

“I don’t know,” Laurie whispers back. “But that’s Dad’s shaving cream.”

Brianna shushes us again.

We move in to see better. Brianna squirts a pile of white shaving cream into Sarah’s dangling hand. Then she pulls out a feather and touches Sarah’s nose with it.

Sarah’s nose wrinkles. The feather touches it again. Sarah reaches up and scratches her nose. And that shaving cream goes all over her face.

“What?” Sarah sits up fast. White shaving stuff drips from her nose and chin.

Brianna is rolling on the floor laughing.

Sarah touches her nose, then stares at the white stuff in her hand. “You little—”

Brianna gets up and takes off running. “You’re the one who did it!” she cries.

“And you’re the one who’s going to get it!” Sarah yells.

Laurie and her mom walk me home. Her mom talks most of the way about how happy I must be getting a little brother and not having to be an only child anymore.

I don’t say anything. Only I’m thinking.

And what I’m thinking is how my mom and dad always say, “Only Natalie.” Mostly they say this in a good way. Only sometimes not. And even then, I like being “Only Natalie.”

Now I’m not going to be that anymore.

And I don’t think I like being “Not-Only Natalie.”

Laurie and her mom walk me up my driveway. And that’s when I see a strange thing. “How come Charlotte’s here?”

“Charlotte?” Laurie’s mom asks.

“That’s her granny’s car,” Laurie explains.

The door opens, and there’s my granny.

“Granny, why are you here?” My heart is very thumpy. “Where’s my mom? Where’s Daddy? Did they go to China?”

“Natalie, they would never leave without telling you, you silly thing.” She hugs me, and I let her, on account of I think I need this hugging.

We tell Laurie and her mom good-bye. And thanks. Then we go on in.

“Your mom and dad are in the bedroom, packing,” Granny explains. “I’m staying the night to help out.”

I run into Mom and Dad’s bedroom. Mom is opening and closing drawers. Daddy is reaching high up in the closet.

“Hey, Nat!” Daddy says. He takes a suitcase down from the top shelf. “Did you have fun at Laurie’s?”

“Kinda.”

Mom turns and gives me a smiley face. “Hi, honey.” Then she goes back to her drawers.

“Can I help?” I ask.

“Sure,” Mommy says. “Can you find me a handkerchief?”

“Yes!” I am a good helper. A really good helper. And this makes me have a thought. Maybe if I help enough, they’ll take me with them.

Mom runs out of the bedroom, saying, “Gum! I better take gum for the airplane.”

I pull open all the drawers and look very hard in them. But there aren’t any hankies in here. So I dig more. And more.

Mom rushes back in. “Honey, please don’t throw my things on the floor.” She picks up the stuff that fell when I was looking.

“Here’s a hankie,” Daddy says, tossing it into the suitcase.

Granny comes in and asks if I want to play with
her. I go with her, but I don’t feel like playing. So she helps me get ready for bed.

And Mommy and Daddy don’t.

Granny reads me a story. And Mommy and Daddy don’t.

Then Mommy and Daddy come in for the praying part. We all talk to God about taking care of Granny and me at home and Mommy and Daddy on the airplane and the baby boy in China. And that makes my heart feel a little better, only not so much.

In the morning, I don’t feel like going to kindergarten. I stay sitting at the kitchen table when it’s time to go. “I should stay here with Percy,” I tell them.

Mom kisses my head. “Can’t miss your last week of kindergarten, Nat. You be my big girl while we’re gone. Okay?”

I don’t feel like a big girl. I feel like it’s the first day of kindergarten all over again. That’s what.

Daddy bends
down to my size. “We’ll miss you, Nat. But when we come home, we’ll have a brand-new brother for you!”

I feel Granny’s hand on my shoulder. “We better go, chum. Don’t want to be late. Besides, Charlotte’s been acting up again. That ol’ Chevy is on its last legs.”

I hug and kiss Mommy and Daddy more. And they do me more. Then I walk with Granny to Charlotte. Only I keep looking back and waving and getting waved at.

At school, Laurie and Jason are waiting for me by Ham the Hamster’s cage.

“Nat!” Jason yells. “Ham wants his joke!”

Every day of kindergarten, almost, I tell our classroom pet a hamster joke. Only I don’t feel jokey. Looking at Ham’s cage makes me think about that mistake I made about the playpen.

“Come on, Nat!” Laurie shouts.

I join my bestest friends and look in at Ham. “Why did the hamster cross the road?” All of my hamster jokes start like that, sometimes. Then I have time to make up an answer.

“I don’t know,” Jason says. “Why did the hamster cross the road?”

“‘Cause his mommy and daddy hamster flew in an airplane all the way to that other side of the road.
And that hamster didn’t want to be left by himself. That’s what.”

Jason makes a frowny face. For the first time ever, he doesn’t laugh at my hamster joke.

Me neither.

We have to take our seats. Laurie sits in front, next to Sasha. Sasha is not so nice. She and Peter the Not-So-Great are the two not-nicest kids in the whole kindergarten.

Anna turns around and whispers, “What’s wrong, Natalie?”

There is so much sad in me. It must be leaking out. “My mom and dad are flying to China.”

“China? Like the real China?” Anna pops out of her seat. “Cool! They should say hi to my greatgrandmother!”

“I don’t want them to say hi to anybody. I don’t want them to go,” I whisper.

“I’ve never been,” Anna goes on. “But I want to.” She gives me a frowny face. “It’s really far away. Why are they going?”

“They’re getting me a brother.”

“No way!” Anna shouts.

“Stop talking, please,” Miss Hines says. She’s looking right at Anna and me. But she doesn’t look aggravated. “Can you believe this is your last week of kindergarten? I’m going to miss each and every one of you. You better come by and visit next year.”

This feels like one more sad thing to think about. Miss Hines is leaving me too.

“So,” Miss Hines says, putting on her cheerleader voice. “Let’s all share what we’re looking forward to this summer. I’ll start. This summer I’m going to be a painter. I’ll be painting my house and my mother’s house, inside and out.”

“We’re going on a really expensive vacation,” Peter the Not-So-Great says without raising his hand.

“That sounds like fun,” Miss Hines says. “Where are you going?”

“On a big boat!” Peter answers. “They put the whole Disneyland on there for my brothers and me. Goofy and Mickey Mouse and Batman will be there!”

“Wow!” Jason says. “Cool!”

“That’s nice, Peter,” Miss Hines says.

“Plus,” Peter goes on, “it cost millions of dollars. But my dad doesn’t even care.”

“That’s fine, Peter,” Miss Hines says. “Anybody else?”

Sasha raises her hand, but she doesn’t wait to get called on. Which is a waste of holding up your hand, if you ask me. “
I’m
going to Washington DC, our nation’s capital.”

“That’s great, Sasha,” our teacher says.

“I got to pick where to go for our vacation. And I chose an educational vacation. That means I’ll be way ahead of other kids in school because I’ll already know about presidents and the White House. We’re not going on an old boat.” Sasha makes a face at Peter. “
We’re
flying on an airplane.”

Anna raises her hand. But she looks at me when Miss Hines calls on her. “Natalie’s going on a plane too. She’s going farther than anybody. All the way to China!”

Miss Hines gets big in her eyes. She turns to me.
“Natalie! How wonderful for you!”

“No way!” Peter shouts. “You’re lying, Natalie.”

Everybody turns to look at me.

“Natalie, are you going to China? Is this true?” Farah asks.

I shake my head in the no way.

“See! Told you so,” Peter says.

Laurie jumps in. “But her mom and dad
are
going on a plane all the way to China. And Nat would go with them, except she doesn’t want to miss kindergarten.”

Miss Hines looks like she doesn’t know who to believe. “Are they going to China on business, Natalie?”

“Kinda,” I answer. “They’re picking up a baby brother.”

Miss Hines’s mouth drops open. “Are they adopting a baby from China?”

I nod.

“How wonderful! Natalie, you must be so excited! When are they going?”

I look at the window and wonder the same thing. “I don’t know what time,” I say.

“You mean they’re flying to China
today?
” Miss Hines is full of excited about this. “Well, congratulations! Your news is by far the best. Right, class?”

“Go, Nat!” Jason shouts.

I get a tiny bit smiley faced. Miss Hines is very smart. Plus, she wears glasses. And she says my news is better than anybody’s.

“Class, aren’t you excited for Natalie and her new little brother?” Miss Hines asks.

“Why?” Peter asks. “I have
two
brothers. My parents had Alex first, and he wasn’t smart. So they had Michael, and he was too noisy. So they had me. It took them three tries to get me. But they did it! Peter the Great! Ta da!”

“My
parents got it right the first time,” Sasha says. “They would never ever have another baby.”

“Now, Sasha,” Miss Hines breaks in. “You don’t know that.”

“I do too!” Sasha shouts. “Why would they when they have me? They don’t need another child. I’m enough for them.”

Other kids talk about their sisters and brothers and summers. But I don’t hear. On account of I can’t get those Sasha words out of my ears:
“I’m enough for them.”

And I can’t keep from wondering how come
I
wasn’t enough for
my
parents.