Between Us and the Moon Read Online Free PDF Page B

rings, and scalloped shell doorknobs are miles and miles of white carpeting. This mansion is like a seashore cottage that’sbeen pumped up with steroids. Since the algae incident, I’m not allowed to drink anything colorful unless standing outside on the porch.
    “Beach!” Scarlett yells. I’m in the living room and she crosses in front of me toward the front door.
    She’s in a blue sundress and hoists a beach bag over her shoulder.
    “I’ll come too,” I say. I could use some time on the beach. I might even tell Scarlett about Tucker and Becky Winthrop. Or maybe she already knows.
    “No, Bean,” she says, putting on white sunglasses.
    “Why not?” I ask.
    “I’m meeting Shelby and Allison at the second lifeguard chair.”
    “I can’t be at the second lifeguard chair?”
    “I need some girl time. I haven’t even seen them yet.”
    I come to a stop and the door closes hard behind Scarlett. She knows what happened with Tucker; the least she could do is invite me to the beach. I plop down on a white lounger that faces the back patio. Mom is in the kitchen, unpacking some items into the refrigerator. I’m surprised one of Nancy’s cooks isn’t trying to help.
    “Want to help me with these groceries?” she says.
    The sunlight sprinkles over the gentle harbor and the wooden dock at the base of Nancy’s beach.
    “Sure.” I help Mom organize some of our normal items, like Dad’s favorite Babybel cheese. “It’s not like we’re friends at home, but she at least invites me to the mall sometimes,” I mumble. “Ofcourse, it’s when she’s going alone, but still . . .”
    “You always tell her no,” Mom says and puts away the grapes in the fridge. “You go with Ettie to the observatory or do your work. You don’t even like the mall.”
    “We’ve gone for lunch loads of times,” I explain. I hate feeling like I have to justify what I choose to do with my time. It wasn’t a problem before.
    All the Summerhill girls go to the mall. For Becky Winthrop it’s a Friday-night ritual. I don’t feel the need to hang out with gaggles of girls for fun. I mean, I guess I haven’t ever done that before, so I can’t empirically say for sure.
    Mom’s brown hair falls out in wispy brown strands from a bun at the back of her head. She stands at the counter, packing the rest of the groceries into the white wooden cabinets. With the exception of the stainless-steel appliances, everything in here is white too. I hand Mom some of the cereal boxes. Nancy demands every year that her chef make all the meals, but Mom insists that we retain some normalcy at breakfast.
    “Anyway,” I say, “Scarlett gets to go to the beach, and I have to help with the groceries.”
    “This is Scarlett’s last summer. She should spend some time with her friends,” Mom says.
    “But I want to go to the beach too.”
    “So go,” she says.
    “I don’t want to go by myself. Normally, I don’t mind single-person activities, but given my present situation . . .”
    “I’ll go with you,” Mom says, and I don’t need to explain anymore. The wrinkles around her eyes deepen when she smiles.She does want to take me to the beach.
    “Okay,” I say, helping to pack away a box of Sugar Crunch.
    “We’ll go put our feet in the water in a while. Your sister is leaving for a month. Let her get some fun in.”
    “Doesn’t Scarlett always get her fun in?”
    Mom throws her head back, laughing. When she does that, openmouthed, hand on her stomach, she is identical to Scarlett. Even the way her neck cranes back just so.
    “Help me with the milk,” she says and hands it to me. “Then we’ll go.”
    Turns out Mom has to take Nancy to pick up her heart pills.
    “Might as well make yourself useful,” Nancy says as they are walking out the door. Mom’s cheeks redden and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment. When she’s mad she purses her lips, and she isn’t doing that now. “Maybe we can find a Providence Journal