“Nope,” Leo said. “Everyone else is really into football. I like football too, but watching it. Not playing it like Zach and Jeremy.”
Leo didn’t only not fit in with the kids who teased him. He also didn’t seem to fit in with his own family.
We went back upstairs.
“Thanks, Leo,” I said when we got to the front door.
“No problem,” Leo said.
Zach came up behind Leo. “Are you the Lee kids?” he asked. “The ones who moved in a little while ago?”
“Yes,” Leo said, sounding annoyed. “We told you that when they first came in.”
“Everyone in the neighborhood is mad at your mom,” Zach said to Miles and me. “Because she’s going to rent the house to college kids during the year.”
“It’s zoned for it,” I said. I sounded snotty but I didn’t care. I’d heard Uncle Nick telling my mom that people were bugged that we were going to rent it out since no one else on the street did.
“I know,” Zach said, walking over to the sink and dumping his dishes into it. “And there’s always the chance you’ll rent to girls. Hot college girls. I have no problem with it.”
“We are going to rent to girls,” Miles said. “Mom says they take better care of things than guys do.”
“We want to come back every summer,” I said, “and renting the house is the only way we can afford to keep it.”
“We’ll stand up for you,” Leo said. “We’ll try to sway the neighbors.”
“For sure,” said Zach. Then he rumpled Leo’s hair and Leo shoved him away. But they were both grinning.
I don’t know what Miles thought about while we walked home but I thought about Leo. I guess I was wrong about him fitting in with his family. And I should have realized that he would fit in because that’s one thing I do know for sure. That it is possible to be different and still belong to your family. For them to love you like crazy.
Ever since the accident I’ve worried that Ben didn’t know that. Or feel that.
I think he did.
He had to, right?
I mean, we set up our whole lives around him. All the therapy. All the going to restaurants during the not-busy hours so that he wouldn’t freak out in a crowd. All the humoring him when he wanted to wear his Halloween costume for months at a time. We listened to him say the same things over and over when he got stressed out. We glared at strangers when they gave Ben dirty looks. It was hard sometimes but we all did it, for years.
It’s not only the hard stuff I remember about Ben. I remember his ruffly hair, how he screamed but sometimes laughed. I remember his eyes wild and also very, very deep. I remember him when he was a baby and a toddler and he was cute and funny and none of us, including Ben, had any idea how things were going to turn out. And how he started to talk more again that last year and liked me to hold his hand when we watched scary parts in movies. He’d let go right when the scary part was over but when it was happening he held on tight.
I loved him. I finally loved him again, and then he was gone.
11.
When I went downstairs to the costume shop before work, Meg wasn’t at the table where she’d been before.
“She’s in the back,” said a woman who was ironing a long piece of fabric. “I’ll go get her.”
The one working at the computer didn’t turn around.
The room was hot. They had a fan on, and every time it rotated past me it made the garbage bag I’d used to protect the special costume crinkle and strands of my hair blow into my eyes.
Meg brought my costume out on a hanger. “It’s good to go,” she said, and I handed her the other dress back. The fan blew her bangs to one side. The safety pins she had stuck to the top of her apron glittered like a necklace. She had a serious face with lines around her mouth that looked like she frowned a lot but also lines around her eyes that made it seem like she laughed a lot too.
Talk, Cedar, I told myself. But it was hard.
Did I honestly want to do this? Try to find out more about tunnels and Lisette? Did I really think a ghost was leaving things on my windowsill? Did I want to spend my time in a costume shop where I didn’t know anyone?
“I came in early because I thought maybe I could volunteer after all,” I said.
“Perfect,” Meg said. “We can use you to take over relabeling the boxes for now. That will free Emily up for other things I need her to do.”
“Hallelujah,” said the person at the computer. Emily.
“Okay,” I said.
12.
And so that’s how I ended up typing a list that had things on it like this: APRONS: WHITE AND OFF-WHITE
ASSES HEADS: ALL TYPES
BUM ROLLS: NO FARTHINGALES, BUSTLE PADS, OR RUFFLES
CROWNS: GOOD MEDIEVAL CROWNS
CROWNS: PLAIN MEDIEVAL CROWNS
FARTHINGALES
HATS: STRAW
HATS: BICORN
HATS: TRICORN
HORNS
MIDSUMMER ACCESSORIES
STOMACHERS
CODPIECES: SMALL
CODPIECES: LARGE
I couldn’t help it. When I got to “codpieces,” I snickered.