I gasp in mock shock. “I do not sound like a bullfrog, you little ass.” I tickle her under the armpits until she’s screaming with laughter and gasping for breath. “Take it back, brat!”
Lilli is squealing for mercy when Marnie walks into the kitchen, hair a lopsided mess, scowl dragging her face down. “What are you doing in here? Your laugh sounds like a hyena on crack, Lilli. You guys woke me up.”
“Good morning, sunshine.” I head back to the sink and Lilli trots over to help me again. “Everyone—except you—was up bright and early because we’re going to the airport. As a family.”
“You guys ate breakfast without me?” Marnie glares at the scraps I just finished scraping into the garbage.
“Mom didn’t call you?” I turn my eyes to the sink as I sponge the plates off with such force, soap bubbles splatter everywhere. When I look closer at Marnie, I see the dark circles that ring her puffy eyes. She was definitely up all night crying.
“No.” Marnie crosses her arms tight across her chest. “Mom’s pissed at me.” She marches to the cabinet, grabs a box of cereal, gets the milk out of the refrigerator, and bangs a bowl Lilli and I just washed and put away onto the counter. Marnie fixes her breakfast and shovels a huge spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Why would we drive to the airport?” she asks with her mouth full. “Why doesn’t Dad’s company just send the car like always?”
Lilli chews on her bottom lip, and I give her a quick squeeze of reassurance. “Stop whining. It’s sister time.”
“Stupid,” Marnie declares, letting milk dribble down her chin on purpose. “We were supposed to, like, actually hang out. This is a super pathetic consolation prize.”
“We get to hang out,” Lilli protests feebly as Marnie sneers at us both. “And there’s that slider place we can go to by the airport that has the truffle fries.”
“It would have been cool if we went to Green Dot Stables for sliders as an actual day hanging out, not just a stop on the way to drop AJ at the airport. That would have been cool. This just sucks.” Marnie practically tosses her bowl into the sink.
“Hey, watch it!” I snap at her retreating back. “You know, if you don’t want to help, you could at least not screw everything up!”
Marnie flies across the room and sticks her finger in my face. “I’m sorry I can’t just shut up and never, ever say what I’m thinking like you!”
“Guys, please stop fighting,” Lilli begs, eyeing the dining room nervously. If Mom hears, she’ll come out and yell at us...or, worse, try to mediate and get us to make peace using all of the tricks she picked up listening to her favorite parenting podcasts.
“I’ll say what I’m thinking right now—you messed up, Marnie, big-time, and you almost dragged us all down with your stupid decisions. Mom and Dad think they’re doing something nice by sending you to this super expensive volleyball camp, and I don’t get why you can’t just suck it the hell up and go! You live for volleyball, you have nothing else to do this summer—”
“So, I should just let myself get shipped off and do something I don’t feel like doing because—according to you—I have nothing else to do?” she demands. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t have anyone telling you what to do every summer... You just get to leave everything!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, as usual,” I say, dropping my voice.
Lilli is making little whimpering sounds in the back of her throat.
“You’re right. I don’t know.” Marnie gets right up in my face, so close I can see her oversize pupils, black as ink. “Why don’t I know? I’m your sister. What’s the big secret, AJ? Why does our family never talk about anything?”
“Um...” Lilli tries to warn us, but it’s too late.
Mom marches into the kitchen and points to Marnie. “Get upstairs and get presentable. I expect you down here in exactly fifteen minutes. We’re getting in the car, we’re going to take AJ to the airport, and there will be absolutely no bickering. Do I make myself clear?”
Marnie’s chin wobbles as she looks from one of us to the other. She gives a sharp salute. “I’ll be ready to pretend everything is just fine in exactly fifteen minutes. Aye aye, Captain.”
Peter puts an arm around Mom’s shoulders before she can scream at Marnie for her disrespect. “It’s a phase, Vanessa. Let her express how she’s feeling.”
Mom rubs her temples. “I feel a migraine coming on.”
“Are you okay, Mom? Do you want me to make you a pineapple and ginger smoothie?” Lilli asks, nuzzling close to Mom.
“That would be amazing, sweetie. AJ, could you get the prescription migraine medicine that’s in my bathroom vanity?”
“Sure.”
I’m surprised when, a minute later, prescription bottle in hand, I find Mom standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
“AJ, did Lilli get a chance to talk to you?” Mom sits on the marble vanity top and twists her hair into a lazy bun, letting it fall back down in shiny strands over and over. My mom looks like she could be another Jepsen sister.
“She mentioned that Ronnie said there might be a record label that’s interested.” I hand Mom the pill bottle and watch as she uncaps it and throws two back.
“I’ve been praying about it, talking to your father about it, reading every article and blog I can find about getting into a singing career too young, and I don’t have any idea what to do.” My mom searches my face, and I realize she’s asking for my input.
“I think Lilli has all of us, and she’s an old soul. No one ever guesses she’s only fourteen. I mean, she has a good head on her shoulders.” I absently twist the tops of Mom’s perfume bottles so the labels all face out—Chanel Beauty, Marc Jacobs Decadence, Benefit Maybe Baby.
“It could dramatically change things for us. As a family.” She sighs. “I’m not worried about you and Lilli. You girls are tough, you can adapt. It’s Marnie who worries me. I’ve tried so hard to help her get her footing this year, but it feels like she’s spiraling. I thought she’d be so excited about this volleyball camp, but nothing makes her happy lately.”
I’m not sure how to tell my mother that what Marnie wants more than anything is some space to breathe, some time away from everything everyone expects her to do, because Mom might have follow-up questions I’m not ready to answer...so I chicken out yet again and don’t say anything at all.
“Sweetie, I want you to enjoy your time with your father and Dani and Duke this summer, but...I want you to think about what Peter suggested. You’d only need to leave a few weeks early, and it might be a really good thing for you. I know you haven’t been able to do anything you really care about during the summer because you’re always at your father’s.”