Karen's Two Families, Page 2

  “All squirmy.”

  “Are they cute?”

  “Well … not yet. But they will be.”

  Nancy turned to me. “Isn’t this exciting, Karen?”

  I was trying to be excited. Honest. But all I could say was, “Darn! I wanted to see the puppies, too. Now I will not be back at the big house for ten more days. The puppies will be ancient by then.”

  “Karen. They will not,” said Hannie.

  I pouted. “Well, they will not be newborns. I wanted to see newborn puppies. And now I can’t. I hate being a two-two!”

  “You do not have to wait ten days to see the puppies,” Hannie told me. “Come over to my house. Come any afternoon. Then we can visit the puppies together.”

  But I knew I wouldn’t be able to go that afternoon, or Wednesday afternoon, or Thursday afternoon. (I would have to see about Friday.) I was busy with little-house things. Boo and bullfrogs.

  I noticed that Nancy was frowning at me. “What do you mean you hate being a two-two?” she asked. “I thought you liked it.”

  “I used to,” I admitted. “But lately I feel like I miss out on everything at the big house. I did not know Emily was big enough for a big-girl bed. I did not know about Nannie’s bowling team. I do not even know Kristy’s friends now. Plus, I miss Daddy all the time. I miss everyone. The pets, too. I am only at the big house four days each month, you know. That is not much time at all. It is hardly anything.”

  “Boy,” said Hannie. “I used to wish I could be a two-two like you.”

  I sighed. “I guess it is not all bad,” I said after awhile. “Having two families can be fun. I get lots of vacations, because I go on vacations with my little-house family and then I go on vacations with my big-house family. And having two houses is fun, too. I like my room at the little house because it is new. Mommy let me choose the furniture for it myself. And I like my room at the big house because it is old. It is the room I grew up in. Not everybody can have a new and an old bedroom.” I paused. “But nothing makes up for missing Daddy and not knowing the important things that are happening to the people at the big house. Not even having two birthday parties each year. I wish I were not a two-two.”

  “Karen, I do not think that will change,” said Nancy.

  “I know. But I wish it could.”

  I was very quiet that day. I felt a little sad.

  Yipes!

  Just as I had thought, I could not go to Hannie’s house that Tuesday afternoon. And I could not go on Wednesday or Thursday. But on Friday morning, I said to Mommy, “Could I go to Hannie’s after school today? I do not have any plans.”

  Mommy looked at her calendar. “Fine with me,” she said.

  “Yes!” I cried. I would be able to see Astrid’s puppies when they were only four days old. That was still pretty little. Not newborn, but better than waiting until they were ten days old.

  Mrs. Papadakis drove Hannie and me home after school. In the car, I was so excited about the puppies that I could not sit still. I kept bouncing around.

  “I am glad you are wearing a seatbelt, Karen,” said Mrs. Papadakis. “Otherwise you might bounce right out of the window.”

  When Mrs. Papadakis pulled into the driveway, Hannie and I zipped out of the car. We ran right next door to Maria’s. We raced to see who could reach the doorbell first. I won. But I let Hannie ring the bell.

  “Hi!” cried Maria when she opened the door. “Hi, you guys! Karen, I am glad you could visit the puppies. They are so cute.”

  Maria led us to Astrid’s box. I sat on the floor. I peered inside. “Hi, Astrid,” I whispered.

  Astrid was lying on her side. The puppies were wriggling against her tummy. They were mashed together in a pile.

  “They are squirmy!” I cried softly.

  They were tiny, too. Little fat bodies with short legs and big heads. They did not look much like dogs. They looked more like hamsters.

  “Are they asleep?” I asked Maria. “They are eating, but their eyes are closed. They do not look like they are asleep.”

  “Their eyes have not opened,” Maria replied. “They will not open for awhile. The puppies do everything with their eyes closed.”

  “How do you know if they are awake or asleep?” I asked.

  Maria shrugged.

  I watched the puppies for awhile. They seemed to be awfully hungry. They kept nursing from Astrid. Astrid was patient. She nosed the puppies around so they all had a chance to eat. She licked them to keep them clean. And she made sure the puppies did not get squished or move too far away from her.

  “Aren’t they sweet?” asked Hannie.

  “Adorable,” I replied.

  “You can touch them,” Maria said to me. “But only a little. And you cannot pick them up yet. That makes Astrid nervous.”

  I reached into the box and stroked one of the puppies with my finger. It felt as soft as a whisper of wind.

  “You know what?” said Maria after awhile. “People have been calling and calling about the puppies. We have already sold all but one of them. My mom says we will sell the last puppy, too, in no time.”

  “How much do they cost?” I asked. I thought Maria might say ten dollars each. But when she told me the price, I yelped. “Yipes! That really is a fortune!” The Kilbournes were going to earn thousands of dollars by selling the puppies.

  Later, when Hannie and I were leaving Maria’s house, I said sadly, “I do not know when I will be able to see the puppies again.”

  Hannie promised to tell me about them in school every day.

  Andrew’s Pet

  At dinner that night, I told my little-house family about the puppies.

  “They are so tiny,” I said. “They could sit in your hand. In one hand. Except that you are not allowed to pick them up. And their eyes have not opened yet. Mostly they just sleep and eat.”

  “Can they walk?” asked Andrew.

  I shook my head. “Nope. They squirm around, though.”

  “I wish I could see them,” said Andrew.

  “I will take you to Maria’s the next time we are at the big house,” I told him. “Oh, guess what. All but one of the puppies has been sold. Maria says the last one will probably be sold soon.”

  “They have been sold?” repeated Andrew. “Then how can I see them?”

  “Oh, they have not gone to their new homes yet. They cannot go until they are much bigger.”

  Andrew nodded. He looked thoughtful. Then suddenly he grinned. “Hey!” he cried. “Could I have that last puppy? The one that has not been sold? Please? It could be my pet. Puh-lease, Mommy?”

  Well, for heaven’s sake. I had not told Andrew he could ask for a pet yet. I had not said it was time. But he had not been a pest lately, so I guessed it was all right for him to ask Mommy again.

  Still, I did not think she would let Andrew have Astrid’s last puppy. For one thing, we already had a dog at the little house. We had Midgie. For another thing, Andrew might be old enough to take care of a little goldfish or something, but I was pretty sure he was not old enough to take care of a dog. Also, Astrid’s puppy was way too expensive. We could not afford to spend so much money on a pet. We could get a free puppy at the pound.

  Sure enough, Mommy said, “A puppy would be a nice pet, Andrew. But we already have a dog. One is enough. Anyway, I do not think you are quite ready to care for a dog.”

  “Boo,” said Andrew. He put his fork down and rested his chin in his hands.

  “But,” Mommy went on, “Seth and I have been talking about your pet.”

  “You have?” said Andrew. He sat up straight. He smiled.

  “Yes. We have decided you may get a pet of your own — ”

  “All right!” cried Andrew.

  “— as long as it is a small pet that is very easy to care for.”

  “Like a kitten?” Andrew asked hopefully.

  “No,” replied Seth. “A kitten is small, but it is not easy to care for. We were thinking of a fish or a turtle.”
r />   “Hmm,” said Andrew. “Hmm. Let me see.”

  Uh-oh. Andrew had forgotten something very important. There was something he needed to say to Mommy and Seth. I mouthed the words at him from across the table: “Thank you.”

  “What?” Andrew said to me.

  “THANK YOU,” I mouthed again.

  “You’re — ” Andrew started to say. Then he stopped. “Oh! Oh, um, thank you, Mommy. Thank you, Seth.”

  “You’re welcome,” they replied.

  “So what kind of pet are you going to get?” I asked my brother.

  Andrew frowned. “I do not know yet. I will have to think about it.”

  I could tell Andrew was going to take a long time with his decision. He would want to choose exactly the right pet. Maybe he would make up his mind the next day.

  Guess what. Andrew did not make up his mind the next day — or the next day or the next. Then on Monday, something happened that made me forget about Andrew’s pet.

  Whose Rules?

  On Monday morning, Hannie walked into our classroom with a grin on her face. She ran to join Nancy and me. “I held one of the puppies!” she announced. “I was at Maria’s house yesterday, and her mom said Maria and I could each pick up a puppy. So we did.”

  “Aww!” said Nancy.

  “And the puppy nuzzled me and squirmed around just as if I were Astrid. But then he whimpered, so I put him down right away.”

  I could not believe Hannie had actually held one of the puppies. I had not seen them since Friday. I had been busy with little-house things, and anyway, no one could drive me over to Hannie’s house.

  “And then, you know what two of the puppies did?” Hannie said.

  “No, what?” asked Nancy.

  “They started … Karen?” said Hannie. “What is the matter?”

  I was pouting and I knew it. But I could not help it. “Well, it is just no fair!” I cried.

  “What is no fair?” asked Nancy. She and Hannie looked confused.

  “It is no fair that I can only go to Daddy’s every other weekend!”

  “Just because of the puppies?” asked Hannie, sounding surprised.

  “No! Because of the puppies and — and — and everything. By the time I go back there this weekend, the puppies will probably be all grown-up, and Emily Michelle will know how to read, and David Michael will be a TV star, and Nannie will be a pro bowler.”

  Hannie and Nancy and I looked at each other. Nancy began to giggle. I almost giggled too, but then I said, “I really do miss my big-house family, you know. I feel like I am not part of them. Andrew feels the same way. We have talked about it.” I sighed. “I hate the custody arrangements. I hate the rules about where Andrew and I have to go, and when, and for how long.”

  “Well, who made up those rules?” someone asked.

  I had not realized how loudly I had been talking. Now I saw that Ricky Torres was standing nearby. He had heard everything I had said. (I did not mind. Ricky is my friend. In fact, he is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground one day.)

  “Who made up those rules?” I repeated. “I don’t know. I guess Mommy and Daddy and their lawyers did.”

  “Can’t you change them?” asked Ricky.

  “Well … I don’t know,” I said again. “Mommy and Daddy have told me the arrangements are really hard to change. You can’t just change them like you change out of clothes you don’t like. Plus, what if we did change them and I did not like the new arrangements?”

  “Well, anyway,” Ricky went on, “my aunt and uncle got divorced, and my cousins have equal time with them. They spend a week with their mom, then a week with their dad.”

  “Cool!” I exclaimed.

  Somebody else had been listening to us. “I have a friend,” said Pamela Harding, “whose parents are divorced, too.” (Pamela Harding is my best enemy, but just then I did not care. I wanted to hear about her friend.) “My friend spends a year with her mom, then a year with her dad. Her parents live far apart,” added Pamela.

  “A year,” I repeated. “Boy, what a long time.”

  “But it is equal time,” Ricky pointed out.

  “Yeah, equal time,” I agreed. “Not four days a month at one house and twenty-six or twenty-seven days at the other house.”

  “That is kooky,” said Ricky.

  I was not sure it was kooky, but it certainly was not equal. I needed to think about equal time. It was a new idea. More important, I would have to think about changing the rules. Could I do that? Could a kid change the rules? I would have to find out.

  A Madhouse

  I could not stop thinking about equal time with Mommy and Daddy. It seemed so much fairer than twenty-six days with Mommy and four days with Daddy. But I did not know whether I could change that.

  While Andrew and I waited for the next big-house weekend, we began another countdown. We were so happy on Friday when we could shout, “Today is the day!” Andrew wanted to paint those bat eyes on his airplane with Sam. I wanted to find out how David Michael was doing in The Wizard of Oz. And we both wanted to see Daddy.

  On Friday night we had pizza for dinner at the big house. I love pizza. And I love pizza parties. But I guess I was busy thinking about equal time again, because after dinner, Kristy said to me, “Karen? You are very quiet this evening.”

  “I am?” I replied. (Kristy nodded.) “Usually you are our chatterbox. Is anything wrong?”

  “I am just thinking,” I told her.

  “Do you want to talk about whatever it is?”

  “Well … maybe. Let me go to my room and decide.”

  In my room I sat on my bed. I held Tickly in one hand. I hugged Moosie with the other. Did I want to talk to Kristy? Hmm. I should probably talk to someone. And Kristy would be a good person to start with. I trust Kristy. I have told her lots of secrets, and she has kept them all. Plus, Kristy’s parents are divorced. Just like Mommy and Daddy. She would probably understand that I wanted equal time.

  I ran to Kristy’s room. “Okay, I am ready to talk,” I announced.

  Kristy smiled at me. She patted her bed, so I sat next to her.

  “I have been thinking a lot lately,” I began. “What I decided is that spending only four days every month at the big house does not seem fair. Andrew and I miss all the good stuff here. I did not know about Emily’s big-girl bed, or David Michael’s play, or anything. Plus we miss you.”

  “We miss you and Andrew, too,” said Kristy.

  “In school,” I went on, “Ricky told me that his cousins spend equal time with their parents. Pamela Harding knows a girl who does the same thing. I wish Andrew and I could.”

  “You mean, spend more time here?” asked Kristy.

  “Spend equal time here,” I replied firmly.

  “Hmm. I do not know if the lawyers would let you. The court has to decide things like that. I don’t think custody arrangements are changed very easily,” said Kristy. “Plus, I do not know what your mom and dad would think. Your mom would miss you and Andrew a lot. Just like you miss us a lot now.”

  “That’s true,” I said slowly.

  “Anyway, the big house is already a madhouse!” teased Kristy. “It is full of people and pets. It is overflowing.”

  “I know.”

  “Besides, you are lucky you can see your father at all. I do not even know where my father is. I have not seen him in years.”

  I sighed. Kristy was not being helpful. But I was not going to give up on my new idea. The next day, when I visited Astrid and her puppies, I stopped at Hannie’s house first. I told her what Kristy had said.

  Hannie frowned. “Well, Kristy is not always right,” she told me. (We both knew that Kristy is usually right, though.) “Why don’t you talk to Ms. Colman? She can solve any problem,” said Hannie.

  Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that myself?

  Ms. Colman’s Advice

  I had to wait until Monday to see Ms. Colman. Then on Monday, I had to wait until lunchtime to t
alk to her. That was the first quiet moment in our classroom. I stayed behind when the other kids left for the cafeteria.

  “Ms. Colman?” I said. I was still sitting at my desk. My desk is right in front of Ms. Colman’s. They touch each other.

  “Oh! Karen, you are still here. Is something wrong?”

  “I need to talk to you,” I said. “I have a problem.”

  Ms. Colman put down her red pencil. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “It is about Mommy and Daddy,” I began. “I mean, it is about spending time with Mommy and Daddy.” I told Ms. Colman what I had told Kristy. I told her about Ricky and Pamela, and about missing my big-house family. Finally I said, “Ricky’s cousins can spend equal time with their parents. That is what Andrew and I want to do. We have talked about it,” I added.

  Ms. Colman looked thoughtful. Then she said gently, “Karen, I know this is not what you want to hear me say, but you need to talk to your parents about this. To both of them. And you need to plan ahead of time what you are going to say. Then say it calmly. After that, ask them what they think about the arrangements. That is really all you can do.”

  Well, boo. Ms. Colman was right. She had not said what I was hoping to hear. I wanted my teacher to take care of my problem for me. But I guess she could not do that.

  “Okay. Thank you,” I said to Ms. Colman. “I will start thinking and planning right now. This is going to be a big job.”

  When I arrived home from school that day, I said to Mommy, “I have been thinking very hard about something. It is important. Can we talk about it tonight after dinner? That would be a good time for our appointment. Let’s say eight o’clock.”

  Eight o’clock was fine with Mommy. Next I called Daddy at his office.

  “May I make an appointment to talk with you tonight?” I asked him.

  “Of course,” replied Daddy.

  “Good. I will call you at eight-thirty.”

  When I got off the phone, I thought about the things I planned to say.

  Mommy and Daddy

  At eight o’clock, Mommy and I sat down in the den. Mommy was very serious about our talk. She made sure Andrew would not disturb us. And she said, “Do you want Seth to join us, or is this just you and me?”