“Of course not. Catie.”
“Damn.” He touches the purple stone. “Looks expensive.”
“It probably is. Catie won’t take it back, and I guess she put it in my bag when we were eating, because I told her I didn’t want it.”
I place it on the futon, next to the Monopoly box. I don’t want it in my hands anymore. The chain feels hot, like the dishonesty of its presence is searing my palm.
“You could tell her parents,” Lionel muses. “Force her to take it back.”
Sometimes I like it when he’s so practical, but not now. He knows Catie just as well as I do, and he’s not thinking about the consequences of getting her in trouble.
“She’d make my life miserable. Not worth it.”
“So take it back to the store yourself. Explain that your friend took it.”
“They won’t believe me.” I sink onto the futon, glaring at the necklace. “They love Catie’s family. They’ll think I took it.”
I don’t remember the first time Mom warned me about shopping while black, but I do remember the first time I noticed we were being followed around a store, even after we’d repeatedly told the sales associate we didn’t need any help. I remember the look on Mom’s face when we left the store. I’d never seen her so silently angry.
Lionel runs a hand over his hair. “You could blame it on Nadine. Say she found it and threatened to ground you if you didn’t tell her the truth. She could be the one to tell Catie’s parents.”
That’s not a bad idea, but Catie would still be pissed and ready for revenge.
“I didn’t say anything when Mom found it. She’ll be mad if I tell her, and… what if she cancels my bat mitzvah? I know you think it’s corny… that it doesn’t really mean anything, but it’s important to me.”
What I don’t say is that even though I’ve already converted, becoming a bat mitzvah feels, somehow, like it will bring me even closer to him and Saul. I know it doesn’t matter that we don’t look alike. I know that caring about each other is the most important part, but I like sharing something official with them.
I don’t look up because I don’t want to see him smirking or rolling his eyes, but Lion just nods. “I won’t say anything, okay?”
I was hoping he’d come up with another solution. I can’t think of a way to fix this that won’t make someone mad. My only option is to shove the necklace into the bottom of my jewelry box and hope Mom forgets about it on the day of the party.
But I don’t feel quite as yucky as I did before we came up to the tree house, knowing Lionel is aware of the secret now, too.
The morning of my bat mitzvah, I wake up to find a small black box on my nightstand. I’m still half asleep when I open it, but my eyes widen immediately once I see the silver Magen David lying on velvet.
I fumble with the clasp for a few minutes before I give up and run downstairs to Lionel’s room for help. He’s reading in bed like he does on the weekends; today, it’s The Shining.
“Look at what Saul and Mom got me,” I say, dangling the necklace in front of him. “I’ll just wear this instead of the purple one. Problem solved, right?”
“Yeah, probably.” He shrugs. “No one’s going to ask why you’re wearing a Star of David at your bat mitzvah.”
“Will you help me put it on?”
He snaps the clasp together and I rush over to the mirror on his closet door to look. It’s perfect.
I have my hand on the knob, ready to run downstairs and show Mom and Saul, when Lionel mumbles, “I got it for you.”
I turn around to stare at him, fingering the edges of the star. “What?”
“I didn’t want you to have to wear that stupid necklace or even think about it, and this one seemed like something you might be into or whatever, so…” He shrugs again and looks down at his book, but I know he’s not reading. “I took care of that other necklace, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“What’d you do with it?” I ask, nervous that he found some way to involve Catie.
“I put it in an envelope and took it to the store and dropped it on the counter when they weren’t looking,” he says, like returning stolen goods is the easiest thing in the world.
“They really didn’t see you?”
“Nobody said anything if they did. I walked out and went to the bookstore.”
“Lion…” I pause because I feel a little bit like I’m going to cry, and he’ll tease me if I cry, especially over something he did for me. “This is really nice. The necklace and… everything. Thank you.”
“It’s no big deal.” He looks at his feet, sticking up beneath the covers. “You’re my sister.”
I know that’s what he’s saying every time he calls me Little—acknowledging that we’re siblings, even if we’re not related by blood. But I like hearing him say it so plainly. It makes me think there’ll never be a time when we question our bond.
six.
Saul makes good on that museum promise and we head out to LACMA after a late breakfast, determined to see as many exhibits as we can cram into our day.
“Your mom and I were talking about going on a family vacation this summer,” he says as he backs the army-green station wagon out of the driveway. “Any suggestions?”
“Paris,” I say immediately. It’s my mother’s favorite city in Europe. She’s talked about it so often and with such love that I think I should see it, too.
“I like where your head’s at, kiddo, but we were thinking about something closer to home. Yosemite, if we’re all up to it. Or Joshua Tree.”
“Maybe we should go to Nevada so you can relive your Burning Man days,” I say with a straight face.
“It was one time.” Saul shakes his head, laughing. “And you weren’t even alive yet. My Burning Man days are long behind me.”
“If we go to Yosemite, we might as well drive up and see Daphne.” I grin.
“Your mother would love that.”
He’s not wrong. Daphne is Lionel’s mother. She lives up in Humboldt County and knits these special wool blankets that sell for, like, a thousand dollars. She and my mom do get along, so well that anytime Daphne’s in town, she makes a point to see my mother, too. They don’t have a whole lot in common besides being overly proud of their Seven Sisters connection; Lionel’s mom was majoring in gender studies at Mount Holyoke while mine was firmly entrenched in the English department at Wellesley. I think Saul is weirded out that they act like long-lost college friends, but Daphne scoffs when he gets awkward about it. “We were terrible together,” she always says. “Honestly, we should’ve gotten a prize for signing divorce papers before we completely screwed up our kid.”
“Well, at least Lionel will get to go to Europe next summer.” I look at Saul out of the corner of my eye.