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But it wasn't summer yet. It was February, and it was cold. But it was my birthday, and that meant it was a good day. Even if there was still a little snow on the ground.
“Soldier!” Gramma hurried past the front door, carrying a tray of cupcakes she had spent all morning baking. “What did I say about cleaning up the Legos in the living room? Your friends are going to be here any minute.”
Oops.
I had gotten distracted, staring out at the snow through the big window in the front door and thinking about everything I wanted to do once summer got here, and I'd forgotten to put my toys away.
“Sorry, Gramma,” I said, hurrying to throw the little plastic pieces into the bucket she let me keep in the living room.
“It's okay,” she said with a chuckle, stopping me with a clasp of her hand against my forehead. She wrapped her arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “You're pretty excited, huh?”
“Duh!”
I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten to invite friends over to the house—actually, had I ever? I usually went to one of my friend’s houses, or we met up at the park or arcade or library or something. Gramma said she didn't like to entertain, Grampa said he didn'twannalisten to Gramma complain about entertaining, and Mom didn't say much of anything about it at all.
Besides, she was usually working or out with her friends or going on another trip.
I guessed she was just too busy to care about entertaining.
So, anyway, when Grammahad askedif I wanted to have a birthday party at our house, I was so, so,soexcited. I couldn't wait to show Billy and Matt and Robbie my room and video games and Legos. And they weregonnathink Sully was the coolest dog ever; I just knew it.
Knock! Knock!
“I'll get it!” I shouted, scrambling up from the floor so fast that my socks slid against the wooden planks.
Grampa entered the room and laughed at the sight of me tripping over my own dumb feet. “Easy there, buddy!”
Billy's mom had picked Matt and Robbie up on the way over. She stood behind them on the stoop, holding a stack of wrapped packages, and she smiled down at me.
“Hey, Soldier! Happy birthday!” she said, her face bright and happy.
“Youwannasee my room?!” I exclaimed to my friends, ignoring Billy's mom and the presents in her arms.
Gramma came up behind me, laid her hands on my shoulders, and kept me from leaving. “Wait a second there, birthday boy. What do you say?”
Excitement was zipping wildly through every one of my fingers and toes, and I could barely stand still. But I sighed and remembered I was supposed to be polite, so I looked up at Billy's mom and muttered, “Thank you.”
“You're very welcome,” she said with the prettiest smile I had ever seen.
Billy's mom wasn't likemine. She was more like Gramma. She baked cookies and cooked dinners and did the laundry. She brought snacks to school and went on class trips. Sometimes, I wondered what it was like to have a mom more like her, but I never really thought about it for too long.
Not until now anyway.
“Laura, would you like to stay?” Gramma asked Billy's mom. “We're having pizza and cupcakes, if you're interested.”
Billy's mom shook her head and passed the gifts to Gramma's wrinkly hands. “I have some errands to run,” she said as I noted that Mom never ran errands. That was Gramma's job. “But I'll be back in a few hours to pick these guys up for a sleepover at my house, if Soldier wants to come.”
I turned to look up at Gramma with hopeful eyes. “Can I, Gramma?”
“We'll talk about it, okay?” she answered before looking back at Billy's mom. “I'll let you know.”
Billy's mom nodded and gave Billy a kiss on the top of his head. He rolled his eyes and told her to leave already. I wondered if he'd want her to leave sobadif she regularly left on her own, like my mom did.
Gramma closed the door as Billy's mom went back to her car, and my friends and Sully and I ran like a herd of elephants up the stairs to my bedroom. And I was right; they liked my room. They liked my room a lot, and we took turns playing video games until the pizza was delivered.
Gramma called us to the dining room, so down we went like a herd of elephants again. Grampa told us all to wash up before we ate, and while my friends made a line at the kitchen sink, I announced I needed to pee anyway.
I went upstairs to the bathroom with the good-smelling soap—the downstairs bathroom soap smelled like baby powder, and I hated baby powder. The door was closed, which waskindaweird because Gramma and Grampa always said to leave it open unless someone was inside. And if Gramma and Grampa were downstairs and Mom was at work, then who was in there?
