Page 52 of Spit Screen

“I did,” Grandma says from behind me.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Girls,” Grandma says. “How about we let your moms get their coats off and put their bags away? I’ll get you each a cookie.”

“Before dinner?” Hannah asks, still holding on to Mom.

“One,” Grandma says.

“You don’t want to spoil your appetite for pizza,” Momma says.

“We get to have pizza?” Hannah asks.

“We do—to celebrate your first art show,” Mom says. “So, one cookie. We’ll head out for pizza before we go to the school.”

Hannah hugs Mom and then runs to the kitchen table.

“I need to finish my homework,” I tell the room.

“Don’t you want a cookie?” Grandma asks.

“Nah. I’m not hungry.” I can see Mom looking at me curiously. She thinks I’m upset. I’m not upset. But I had a plan. And now, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it happen. I need to think about it.

I go upstairs to my room and close the door. I would call Auntie Tam, but the phone is in the kitchen, and everyone is in there. There’s a knock on my door. Mom opens it slightly and peers inside.

“You can come in, Mom.”

Mom makes her way to my bed and sits on the edge. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I just have homework.”

Mom stares at me. I giggle. She reads minds. I know it. Then I huff. “Okay. Here’s the thing, Mom.”

Mom’s eyebrow raises.

“I sort of had a plan,” I tell her.

“A plan?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to tell me about this plan?”

“Well, I sort of asked Auntie Tam if she would call and order pizza for dinner.”

I have to say, Mom doesn’t usually look shocked. She looks like she really did see a ghost. I made Tam promise to keep it a secret. I guess she did.

“Are you telling me you asked Tam to have pizza sent to our house?” Mom asks.

“Yeah. I promised I’d give her my birthday money when she came here next week. Hannah was really sad last night because she thought you wouldn’t be here for her art show. And I know you were supposed to stay at our old house till tomorrow, but I heard Grandma tell Grandpa you’d be here today. I wanted to surprise everyone.”

I could be wrong, but I think Mom is about to cry.

“Vicki, that’s incredibly thoughtful.”

I shrug; here’s the thing about my parents: they never miss the stuff that matters. Like this summer when Mom had to leave to start filming with Bryce. She was supposed to be gone for our last day of school. And it was abigdeal to both me and Hannah. I got an award for my grades and my citizenship, and Hannah graduated from preschool. Mom and Momma explained it was one of those things out of their control. I think Momma almost fell over when Mom walked through the door. It was kind of funny. Momma had burned another batch of cookies. I swear, she should just buy Oreos.

It’s not like I try to hear what the adults talk about. Well, okay, sometimes I do. But most of the time, they’re louder than they think. When we got home from the awards assembly on our last day of school, I heard Mom say she told the director of her movie she would only do it if she could be home for our assembly. My parents always show up. They drive me nuts sometimes, but they give up a lot of things. I know they do. Mom gave up acting for a long time to be with us. I mean, she’s gone away a couple of times, but never for long. Buying a pizza isn’t a big deal. And Hannah is my little sister. This art thing is a big deal for her.

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