The Secret Book Club

  “Yup.”

  It suddenly occurred to Olivia that someone was going to have to make an announcement about this. “Um, Ruby,” she said, “do you want to stand on a chair and tell everyone that they can start putting their baskets together?”

  “Sure!” said Ruby.

  But Nikki pulled Olivia aside and said, “You have to do it, Olivia. Not Ruby.”

  Olivia compromised. She lifted a stack of baskets down from one of the shelves, passed them around, and told her guests — individually — that they could start taking things from the shelves. “You could put together a basket for yourself, or for one of your friends, or your mom or dad. Or you could make a special-occasion basket, like for a birthday.” She glanced at her father.

  “The only rule,” added Mr. Walter, “is that the value of the basket can’t be more than twenty-five dollars.”

  “Cool!” said Sophie. “Olivia, this is the best party.”

  “Really?” replied Olivia. “Thank you.”

  Flora, standing nearby with Ruby, saw the relief and pleasure on her friend’s face. She also saw the grim set of Tanya’s jaw and was about to say something to Nikki when Ruby tugged on her shirt. Flora leaned over and Ruby whispered in her ear, “That girl” (she tried to indicate Tanya without pointing at her) “is jealous. Who is she?”

  “Tanya. That’s Tanya.”

  “The one who didn’t invite Olivia to her party.”

  Flora nodded.

  “I don’t like her,” said Ruby.

  “Give her a chance. She was nice to Nikki and me.”

  Olivia, having handed the baskets around, now found herself in the middle of a group of girls.

  “Do you work here? I mean, do you get to help out at the store?” asked Claudette.

  “Sure,” said Olivia. “Anytime I want.”

  “And your mom makes all the candy and stuff?”

  Olivia nodded. “She has help, but these are her own recipes. And she comes up with the ideas for things like the chocolate numbers to put on birthday cakes, and chocolate candles. You can’t light them, but you can eat them.”

  The girls laughed.

  “Does your mom make candy at home, too?” asked Mary Louise.

  “She used to, but now she mostly makes it here. To sell.”

  Tanya joined the girls. “Hey, Olivia. What did you do this summer? Did you go away?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Flora and Nikki and Ruby and I were really busy, though. And also, I worked on my butterfly collection. I only collect dead butterflies, though. I never kill live ones. I have butterflies from …” Olivia’s voice trailed off. She saw Tanya nudge Melody. “Well, anyway, I was busy.”

  “Look, you guys,” said Claudette, who was standing before a display of rattles and rubber duckies. “I put together a basket of baby things. I’m going to become an aunt this fall, you know. My big sister is having a baby.”

  “My basket,” said Nikki, who had been studying the candy counter, “is for my brother. Tomorrow he leaves for college.”

  Tanya turned her attention from Olivia to Nikki. “Your brother is going to college?”

  Nikki nodded. “He got in over the summer. And he got a scholarship.”

  “Wow. I thought …”

  Nikki glared at Tanya.

  “Um, well, my basket is going to be for my mother,” said Tanya quickly.

  “Come on, then,” said Melody. “I’ll show you where the candles are. You should put a candle in her basket.”

  The girls fell silent, and finally Olivia said, “So what did you guys do over the summer?”

  “I was a CIT at this camp in Maine,” said Sophie. “For a month. It was so cool. Every Saturday night the CITs at the girls’ camp got to go to the boys’ camp and have a picnic or something with the boy CITs.”

  “I helped out with the summer program for the kids at the community pool,” said Mary Louise. “Lots of cute lifeguards there.”

  Claudette and Sophie and Mary Louise laughed.

  Olivia took a step back, nearly stumbling into Tanya.

  “Pizza time!” announced her mother. “Are you girls almost done with your baskets?”

  “Yes!” everyone chorused.

  “How did you do?”

  Claudette held out her baby basket, and Nikki held out her basket for Tobias, and soon the girls were exclaiming and talking and comparing items. Olivia felt Flora nudge her into the group again. She was relieved when the pizzas arrived.

  An hour later, the pizzas devoured, Mr. Detwiler peeked through the window of Sincerely Yours. Claudette’s parents were behind him, and the next thing Olivia knew, her guests were calling, “Goodbye!” and “Thank you!” and “See you in school!”

  Her party was over.

  Later, in bed, Olivia decided to have another conversation with herself.

  “It went okay, don’t you think?” asked one of the Olivias.

  “The most important thing is that I did it. Tanya didn’t invite me to her party, but I went ahead and had a party of my own and invited her to it.”

  “That was the adult thing to do.”

  “I think so.”

  “And everyone had a good time.”

  “Including me. It was fun talking to the other girls.”

  “What about the butterfly collection?”

  “I can’t think about that. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’ll have to be very careful about what I say once school starts.”

  The Olivias began to swim and float, and in her bed below, Olivia Walter’s eyes drooped and she fell asleep to owl calls and Jacques barking and all the nighttime sounds of Aiken Avenue.

  Nikki tried not to eat too much pizza at Olivia’s party. It was hard to turn down perfectly good free pizza, but she knew that when she got home, she and her mother and Mae were going to have a good-bye dinner for Tobias.

  As Nikki bicycled along the lane leading to her house, she tried to imagine evenings — months and years of them stretching away before her — without Tobias close by. She had told her brother not to worry, that she and Mae and her mother would be fine. This was the twenty-first century, for lord’s sake, and women didn’t need men to take care of them. They could take care of themselves. But when Nikki thought, really thought, about long, dark hours with no Tobias in the next room, an uneasy feeling crept over her. She shook it off now as she rode along. Tobias was ready to leave — he deserved this opportunity — and she did not want to be responsible for his changing his mind.

  “Hi, everyone! I’m home!” Nikki called.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” her mother replied.

  Nikki entered the kitchen to find the table set with the floral cloth they had used the previous Christmas and a vase of wildflowers (picked by Mae, she suspected) flanked by red candles.

  “Mom, the table looks beautiful,” said Nikki.

  “Thanks, honey. How was the party?”

  “It was great. Look what I made for Tobias.” Nikki held out the basket she had carefully ridden home on her bicycle. “Everyone got to make one. Whatever kind they wanted.”

  “That was awfully nice of the Walters.”

  “They knew how important the party was to Olivia.”

  Mrs. Sherman removed a pot of spaghetti from the stove, set it down on a dish towel, and considered her daughter. “Would you like to have a party sometime, honey? You’ve never had one, not even a birthday party.”

  “That’s okay, Mom. Really. I don’t need a party.”

  “But we could afford one now.”

  And, thought Nikki, Dad isn’t around anymore to frighten off the guests. “I know, but it’s not important to me in the same way it was to Olivia. It’s kind of hard to explain. Maybe Mae should have a birthday party, though, when she turns eight.”

  “Who’s having a party?” Tobias, grinning, staggered down the stairs carrying two suitcases and a pillow.

  “Nobody yet,” replied Nikki.

  “I am!” cried Mae. She ran through the
front door, Paw-Paw at her heels. “I heard you guys through the window. You said I could have a party!”

  “When you turn eight,” said her mother.

  “Goody. Tobias, look at the table. It’s as fancy as Christmas. Remember when we set the table with the angels and the candles and the bowl of pinecones? ’Course, we don’t have angels or pinecones now, but —”

  “Mae,” said Mrs. Sherman, “try to calm down a little, please.”

  “The table looks great,” said Tobias. He set his things by the front door.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually leaving tomorrow,” said Nikki.

  “Me, neither,” replied Tobias. “But I am.”

  Upstairs in his room, Nikki knew, was a stack of papers and letters related to Tobias’s freshman year at Leavitt College. Maps, too. All on his own, Tobias had made the arrangements for arriving at school, including getting directions for driving himself there. Nikki had seen plenty of television shows about students going off to college for the first time, and in all of them, the parents and their kid loaded up the family station wagon (packed so tightly that the driver couldn’t see out the back window) and drove to the college together. Once there, the parents talked with other parents and met professors and maybe even the president of the college, saw their son or daughter safely settled into a dorm room (having introduced themselves to the roommates and their parents), and made sure their kid had a checking account set up with a nice sum of money in it, before finally saying good-bye.

  But the next morning, Tobias would drive off to Leavitt College by himself. Mrs. Sherman needed to put in half a day at work, and in any case, she had no idea about colleges and professors and dorms and roommates. Tobias said he would be fine, and Nikki believed him. But she could not imagine being in his shoes and sincerely hoped that when the time came for her to leave for college, her mother would drive her there no matter what.

  “Everybody ready for dinner?” asked Mrs. Sherman.

  “Yes,” chorused Nikki and Mae.

  “I have a few more loads,” said Tobias, “but I’ll take them out to the car after dinner.”

  “How come you’re taking them out now?” asked Mae. “You aren’t leaving until tomorrow. Are you?” she added suspiciously.

  “I want to get an early start in the morning.”

  “Tobias? I don’t want you to —”

  Nikki grabbed her sister by the elbow. “Get your plate, Mae. Mom made spaghetti.”

  Mae reached for her plate.

  When the Shermans were seated around their kitchen table, Tobias said, “Wow. My last dinner here.”

  “But not your last dinner here forever,” his mother pointed out. “You’ll be back for holidays and vacations.”

  “And maybe in between,” said Tobias. “Leavitt isn’t all that far away. I can come home on weekends sometimes.” He paused. “If you need me.”

  “We’ll be just fine.”

  “We’ll be great,” said Nikki.

  She had taken exactly one forkful of spaghetti (and was just thinking that perhaps it had been a teensy bit too big) when she heard the sound of tires on the Shermans’ unpaved drive.

  Mrs. Sherman, Tobias, Nikki, and Mae put down their forks and looked at one another.

  “Are we expecting anyone?” asked Tobias.

  “I don’t think so,” said his mother.

  Nikki was struck with two thoughts then — two thoughts of great import — and also managed to marvel at how one’s brain could generate more than one thought in the same second. Her first thought was: What if it’s Dad who’s driving up our lane right now? Her second thought was: What would Mom and Mae and I do if Dad came back while Tobias was away?

  Brain racing, stomach dropping, Nikki leaped to her feet and ran to the window. She let out an enormous sigh. “It’s Mrs. DuVane,” she said.

  “My goodness,” exclaimed Mrs. Sherman. “I didn’t expect — oh, lord, right in the middle of dinner …”

  The Shermans left the table and opened the front door.

  From out of her expensive car, which was scrubbed shiny and clean, slid Mrs. DuVane, a large box in her hands. “Hello!” she called. “I’m sorry to come over unannounced, but I wanted to be sure to see Tobias.”

  “Mommy, Mrs. DuVane has a big present with her. And it’s for Tobias,” said Mae enviously.

  Mrs. Sherman patted her daughter’s back, then greeted their visitor.

  “Oh, you’re having dinner,” said Mrs. DuVane as she stepped inside. “Well, I won’t stay but a minute. It’s just that I realized Tobias was going to take off tomorrow and, well, Tobias, I wanted you to have this before you left.” She held out the box, which was wrapped in yellow paper and tied with blue ribbon.

  “Leavitt’s school colors,” said Tobias appreciatively as he accepted the package.

  “Open it, open it!” cried Mae. She began to jump up and down, then said, “Can I open it?”

  Tobias smiled and handed the present to Mae. She ripped off the paper, then stared at the box inside. “What is it?” she asked.

  Tobias stared. “It’s a laptop computer.”

  “Every student needs his own laptop these days,” said Mrs. DuVane.

  “Wow. I was going to get a secondhand one next week,” said Tobias, “but this … this is great. Thank you. I can’t believe it.”

  “You’re very welcome. You deserve it. I know that choosing to go to college wasn’t easy, and I’m proud of you.” Mrs. DuVane looked at the plates of spaghetti on the table, the flickering candles. “I don’t want to interrupt your dinner any longer,” she said. “I’ll be on my way. Stay in touch, Tobias, okay?”

  “Now I can send you e-mails,” replied Tobias.

  Mrs. DuVane held out her hand, but Tobias ignored it and gave her a hug. “I really —”

  Mrs. DuVane put her hand on the doorknob. “Not necessary to say anything,” she told him. “Good luck!”

  And then she was gone.

  Later that evening, Nikki took her basket from its hiding place behind the couch. She climbed the stairs to the second floor, stood in Tobias’s doorway — and drew in a sharp breath. “Tobias! Your room is almost bare.” She looked at the naked bookshelves, the stripped walls, the nightstand empty of everything except an alarm clock.

  “Well …” he said.

  Nikki swallowed a lump in her throat and held out the basket. “This is for you,” she said. “It’s, um, a goodbye basket. I know it’s silly …”

  Tobias set the basket on his bed. “No, it’s great,” he said, looking through the items Nikki had selected. “Yellow and blue soap. Very cool. Chocolates. Did Olivia’s mother make these?”

  Nikki nodded. “And in that,” she said, indicating a small plastic picture frame, “you can put a photo of moi.”

  Tobias laughed. But then his smile faded and he said, “You know what I thought when we heard Mrs. DuVane coming up our drive? I mean, before we knew it was Mrs. DuVane?”

  “I think so. The same thing I thought — that it was Dad. Which would have been very ironic.”

  “And scary. Nikki, when I’m gone, you and Mom and Mae are going to be —”

  “I know,” Nikki interrupted him. “We’re going to be all alone out here. But we’ll be fine. Really. Mom is … Mom. A grown-up. And I’m almost a grown-up.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Look, we pay our bills now, so the phone always works and, I don’t know. Anyway, you can’t take care of us forever.”

  Tobias looked out his window and said nothing.

  The next morning he was up early, and by the time Nikki awoke, Tobias’s car was loaded, he had eaten breakfast, and he was ready to go.

  “So soon?” asked Nikki. She was standing on the front porch in her nightgown, yawning, a sleepy Mae at her side.

  “Classes start on Tuesday and I have a lot to do before then.”

  Mrs. Sherman emerged from the house, dressed for work, a mug of coffee in her hand. She smiled at Tobias. ?
??The first one in this family to go to college,” she said. “I’m awfully proud of you.”

  Tobias hugged his mother and Nikki and swung Mae into the air. “Remember, Mae is in charge while I’m gone,” he said. “So Mom, Nikki, be sure to do what she says.”

  Mae laughed. “I’ll write you letters. And you write back, Tobias, but not in cursive, okay? I can’t read cursive yet.”

  “Promise.”

  Tobias walked to his car but hesitated before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  Nikki ran to him and gave him a little shove. “Go,” she said. “It’s time for you to go.”

  And with that, Tobias slid behind the wheel, pulled the door shut, started the engine, and nosed the car around until it pointed down the Shermans’ lane.

  “Good-bye!” called Nikki and Mae and their mother.

  Tobias honked his horn once.

  Nikki watched her brother until all she could see was a small cloud of dust where the lane met the county road.

  “I wonder how it feels to have an actual day named for you,” said Ruby. “I’ll bet it’s better than having a constellation or a sandwich named for you. Today people will go around saying ‘Happy Nelson Day!’ just like people say ‘Happy Halloween!’ or ‘Happy Thanksgiving!’” She paused and looked at Min and Flora, who were walking on either side of her down Aiken Avenue. “Do you want to know a secret?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I kind of wish there was a Ruby Day.”

  Flora began to laugh, then stopped herself. “I guess it would be exciting to have your very own day.”

  “The only sad thing,” Ruby went on, “is that today is almost the last day of summer vacation.”

  “It is the last day for me,” said Flora. “Tomorrow Nikki and Olivia and I go to the central school for orientation.”

  “Remember the first day of vacation?” said Ruby.

  “Yup,” replied Flora. “The phoebe babies hadn’t hatched yet. And now they’re grown and gone.”

  “The diner hadn’t burned down,” said Ruby. “And I hadn’t met Hilary Nelson.”

  “Your book club hadn’t started,” said Min.

  “I wasn’t a Turbo Tapper,” said Ruby.