about how everyone is going to manage when I go away to college in two years.”
I didn’t know all of this about the Marshalls…. wow….. no wonder Steve looks so tired some of the time….. and so does Polly.
Polly looks at me. “So now you know…my family would not be considered normal either…. but it’s the family I know, and I love them…. well, all of them except for my mother.”
Brenda says, “And I think that my family is normal…. what’s left of it….. My dad died, so there is just my mom and me…. but that’s still a family.
“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Brenda continues. “At school, there are kids who are adopted, kids who were born into the family where they are living, kids who have stepfamilies, kids who have two mothers, kids who have two fathers, kids who live with guardians….. so many different ways to live….. and who gets to decide what’s normal?”
“It bugs me when one group tries to decide what’s normal for everyone.” Polly shakes her head. “That causes problems everywhere…. in school, in the country, in the world. Fights and wars can start that way.”
“The way I figure it,” Brenda says, “as long as it doesn’t hurt yourself or others, then it’s fine.”
We all smile at each other.
Then we go back to playing Go Fish.
Polly and Brenda start discussing the buttsof boys in their classes….. rating them from asinine to buttacious.
I decide that it’s time to go.
This may be normal behavior for them, but I’d rather go read a book.
Chapter
Twelve
My mother puts the bowl of cereal on the table in front of me. “Honey, be outside right after school. Max and I will be there to pick you up.”
I pour milk into the bowl.
I’m the one who has to do it because I know just the right amount to pour.
If I put in too much, then it gets soggy.
I hate soggy cereal.
If I put in too little, then it’s dry.
Then I have to add more milk, and then there’s leftover milk, and I have to add more cereal.
I stir the mixture.
“Amber,” my mom says, looking at me, “did you hear what I said?”
I nod. “Be in front as soon as school is over. You and Max will be there to pick me up.”
She moves closer to me, putting her face right in front of mine. “And you do know why we are picking you up, right?”
I pick up the spoon of cereal and try to put it in my mouth.
Some milk dribbles down on both of us.
My mom backs up and sighs. “Amber. Why are we picking you up? Why have I taken several days off from work?”
It’s my turn to sigh. “You and Max are looking for a new house….. and I have to go to school.”
She nods. “You can’t miss school. Even if your grades were better, I still wouldn’t take you out of school for this. But we want you to be part of the decision-making, so weare narrowing down the choices….. and now there are some that we want you to see.”
I look around the kitchen. Under one of the cabinets is a plaster of paris mold of my handprint that I made in preschool with a nose print in the middle made by Justin.
Miss Emily, our teacher, had to clean the plaster of paris out of his nose before it got hard.
By the stove are pot holders that I made in first grade. I never could get all of those loops closed off correctly, but Mom said that they were beautiful anyway.
On the wall is the corkboard that I made at day camp. We tack things on it, like appointment reminders, pictures and coupons.
I wonder if we will put up all of these things in our new kitchen when we find the house.
I wonder if I hate the houses, will they buy one of them anyway…just saying that my opinion matters but not meaning it.
The doorbell rings.
It’s Max.
He’s driving me to school today.
We go out to the car.
On the front seat is a wrapped present.
I get into the car and put my seat belt on.
The present is between us.
Max starts up the car and says, “Amber, the present is for you.”
Christmas is over.
It’s not my
I didn’t know all of this about the Marshalls…. wow….. no wonder Steve looks so tired some of the time….. and so does Polly.
Polly looks at me. “So now you know…my family would not be considered normal either…. but it’s the family I know, and I love them…. well, all of them except for my mother.”
Brenda says, “And I think that my family is normal…. what’s left of it….. My dad died, so there is just my mom and me…. but that’s still a family.
“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Brenda continues. “At school, there are kids who are adopted, kids who were born into the family where they are living, kids who have stepfamilies, kids who have two mothers, kids who have two fathers, kids who live with guardians….. so many different ways to live….. and who gets to decide what’s normal?”
“It bugs me when one group tries to decide what’s normal for everyone.” Polly shakes her head. “That causes problems everywhere…. in school, in the country, in the world. Fights and wars can start that way.”
“The way I figure it,” Brenda says, “as long as it doesn’t hurt yourself or others, then it’s fine.”
We all smile at each other.
Then we go back to playing Go Fish.
Polly and Brenda start discussing the buttsof boys in their classes….. rating them from asinine to buttacious.
I decide that it’s time to go.
This may be normal behavior for them, but I’d rather go read a book.
Chapter
Twelve
My mother puts the bowl of cereal on the table in front of me. “Honey, be outside right after school. Max and I will be there to pick you up.”
I pour milk into the bowl.
I’m the one who has to do it because I know just the right amount to pour.
If I put in too much, then it gets soggy.
I hate soggy cereal.
If I put in too little, then it’s dry.
Then I have to add more milk, and then there’s leftover milk, and I have to add more cereal.
I stir the mixture.
“Amber,” my mom says, looking at me, “did you hear what I said?”
I nod. “Be in front as soon as school is over. You and Max will be there to pick me up.”
She moves closer to me, putting her face right in front of mine. “And you do know why we are picking you up, right?”
I pick up the spoon of cereal and try to put it in my mouth.
Some milk dribbles down on both of us.
My mom backs up and sighs. “Amber. Why are we picking you up? Why have I taken several days off from work?”
It’s my turn to sigh. “You and Max are looking for a new house….. and I have to go to school.”
She nods. “You can’t miss school. Even if your grades were better, I still wouldn’t take you out of school for this. But we want you to be part of the decision-making, so weare narrowing down the choices….. and now there are some that we want you to see.”
I look around the kitchen. Under one of the cabinets is a plaster of paris mold of my handprint that I made in preschool with a nose print in the middle made by Justin.
Miss Emily, our teacher, had to clean the plaster of paris out of his nose before it got hard.
By the stove are pot holders that I made in first grade. I never could get all of those loops closed off correctly, but Mom said that they were beautiful anyway.
On the wall is the corkboard that I made at day camp. We tack things on it, like appointment reminders, pictures and coupons.
I wonder if we will put up all of these things in our new kitchen when we find the house.
I wonder if I hate the houses, will they buy one of them anyway…just saying that my opinion matters but not meaning it.
The doorbell rings.
It’s Max.
He’s driving me to school today.
We go out to the car.
On the front seat is a wrapped present.
I get into the car and put my seat belt on.
The present is between us.
Max starts up the car and says, “Amber, the present is for you.”
Christmas is over.
It’s not my
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