The Spring Girls

I didn’t even know if I wanted to do that. I knew he was telling the truth about not telling Bell, but that didn’t mean our relationship would ever make sense or last longer than one of his trips.

“And patience?” She dipped her cookie into the glass of milk.

“In what way?” I hated that I had to ask her to clarify, but if this was a test, I wanted to pass.

“He goes on these trips and he will be in villages with zero internet, and he will come home with no money in the bank because he gave it all away. He’s a good man, and I’m proud of him, but there are limits to everything, and Shia needs to be with a woman with a lot of patience.”

“Did you ask Bell Gardiner these things?” I just had to know.

Mrs. King shook her head. “Didn’t need to.”

“Because you already knew the answers?” I still just had to know.

“No. I knew it wasn’t going to last long enough for the answers to matter.”

Her response surprised me, but I didn’t have time to think before my mouth took over again. “I think I’m patient.”

I wasn’t as patient as say . . . Beth, but I could wait for things that were worth my time.

“And the family-legacy stuff?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. The Kings were so out of my league.

“Do you know what I care about more than the color of your skin or your last name?” she began.

“No.” I sure didn’t.

“I care about whether you’re a warrior. Are you going to be able to handle the pressure of being in a family like this? Shia and his dad may not talk for months, but our family is number one in my life.”

I nodded.

“And I don’t care about what college you went to, or even if you went to college. I know it’s not for everyone, and you millennials are so self-made nowadays, I get it. Are you going to be able to raise my grandkids to be strong and take on the world despite the color of their skin?”

I nodded again.

“I know this seems like a lot”—she smiled, lightening up the unexpected conversation—“and I sound like I’m hovering over him, but that’s not the case. If this doesn’t work out, it changes a lot of things. Your job could be compromised, the friendship you two have, the friendship we have. I don’t want to waste my time or my son’s time or your time, Meg, if you’re not ready for this.”

It still seemed a little intense, but honestly, I had been planning my wedding and naming my stuffed animals since I could talk. I wasn’t like Jo. Being a mother was so important to me, and I had always known that no matter what race my children were, I would be their biggest advocate. I looked forward to my future as a wife and mother someday.

I was so far from that. Shia too. “I understand. Shia and I are just so far from that.”

“Well, I want you to be able to think about the big picture. I would really hate to lose the working relationship we have now if you guys end up calling it off.”

We had to call it on first, but I didn’t tell her that.

“Mrs. King, I promise that if we . . . if we go there, I’ll be ready for those things,” I assured her, and myself. “All of them.”

Shia and I couldn’t just start dating. We would have to start as friends again, and that couldn’t happen because he was leaving until after summer and it was still spring.

“That’s all I’m asking. And don’t tell him that I said any of this. That’s the last thing.” Her smile was warm enough to melt most of the awkwardness away. “Oh, and I need you to pass these cookies down to my grandchildren.”

“Deal.” I raised a new cookie in the air.

“Deal,” she echoed, cheersing me with her half-eaten cookie.

For the next twenty minutes, we went over her schedule for the next week, including everything from dog-grooming appointments tomorrow morning to jury duty on Thursday. In between my adding things to her cell-phone calendar, I kept looking through the doorway, sort of hoping to see Shia again before I left. He only had two more days here, and I knew those days would come and go, and then, poof, he’d be on the other side of the world again.

But he never came through the door. Right as I was leaving with a pan full of leftovers, Mrs. King’s phone went off on the counter where I’d placed it.

She lifted it up and read it as she walked me to the door. “Have a good night, Meg. And let me know if you want to take Tuesday off.”

I nodded, thanking her, and got to my car as fast as I could.

What just happened?

43

beth

Little Caesars pizza was empty save for us and the pregnant girl behind the counter. Only two slices of pizza sat under the warmer. I had known they were about to close and felt like a jerk for coming in last minute, but it was worse now that I was making a pregnant girl help us. Her name tag said Tawny, and she had big brown eyes and really curly hair. She looked so young.

“Hi.” My mom smiled at her. Mom was always a polite customer and taught us to be the same. She was a little less perky than she had been a few years ago, but everyone in the Spring house was just a little more tired now.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

My mom asked pregnant Tawny to please, please make fresh pizzas, promising her a tip worth her while, and apologized profusely. I didn’t know what was going to happen that night after the greasy pizza filled our happy stomachs, and the movie we choose to watch ended, and my mom and dad went to their room and we girls went to ours. I didn’t know which of my sisters would be around tonight, and I hoped at least one of them would be there for me to talk to when my parents closed their bedroom door and my mom had to tell my dad that, once again, we had no money.

“Only jalapeño and onion on that side,” my mom said, ordering Jo’s favorite pizza. I hoped Jo had cooled down enough to be under the same roof as Amy. I hoped the next day my mom could tell my dad that I’m not going to public school ever again and that he would take it well and I could focus on my assignments.

“At least we aren’t the only ones in here right before closing,” a girl’s voice said. It sounded familiar, and when I glanced behind me, I saw why.

Wearing fitted sweatpants and an olive-green T-shirt, leaning against the railing, was Nat, the girl who made the mood jewelry from the festival. Ugh, that festival. If we could just erase it from Spring family history, that would be great. Being at her stall was the only good part of that whole thing. She was so nice and even helped us hide Meg. Nat looked so chill in her street clothes. Her ears were showing beneath her ponytail, and I could see they were decorated. She was standing next to a man I assumed was her dad and pointing at the menu on the wall above us.

For a girl who I had only known for a weekend, I had sure run into her a lot. Well, the festival, she was working, so that was an easy explanation, but this? The chances of her and her dad being here . . . well, it was just weird. My cheeks were hot and I tried not to look in the mirrored wall behind the counter. Tried—and failed. I looked like I hadn’t slept in a week.

“What did your mother want again?” Nat’s presumed dad asked her.

With my fingers I tried to flatten the strays escaping from my ponytail, but it wasn’t working well.

“Cheese and ham,” she told him. He asked about her homework, and I was watching her when she looked over at me, catching my eyes.

She blinked three times quick and smiled. “Hey! I know you!”

“Hey.” I waved back just as my mom turned around.

“Hi! Who’s this?” She waved at Nat and her dad and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Nat.” She smiled at my mom and thumb-pointed at her dad. “This is my dad.”

“Shin. Nice to meet you.” He reached out his hand to shake my mom’s.

Nat turned to me. “How are you? How random we’re the only people in town eating Little Caesars.” She laughed a little and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. Her ponytail was so soft looking, the true Tumblr de

finition of a messy bun. Mine never looked effortlessly cute-messy. Ever.

“Good,” I told her. I felt overly anxious for some reason. There was no line behind us or voices chattering over one another. Only pop music from a decade ago and the buzzing of the cooler in front of us. It was only the four of us . . . well, six including Tawny and her baby, but my heart was racing like I was standing in the middle of a Black Friday (now starting on Thanksgiving) sale at Walmart.

Nat was looking at me like I forgot to answer her, which I halfway did. “Right. We thought we were the only ones who still liked it.”

Nat’s face broke into a smile and she laughed a little. “Same.”

Our parents were talking about school districts or something. I didn’t know or care.