A Month of Mondays Read online

  Dad dropped Jessica and me off at Caroline’s on Saturday morning. He waited in the car to make sure we got inside okay, but he didn’t get out or anything. On the porch, I pressed the bell just as Caroline opened her front door.

  “Welcome,” she said. “Come in.”

  She leaned forward like she was going to hug me, but I was already moving past her. I stopped and we did one of those fake hugs where you barely touch each other, and then I hurried inside.

  “Hello, Jessica,” Caroline said.

  “Hi, Mrs. Walker.”

  “Call me Caroline.”

  “Umm…okay. Just don’t tell my mom. She’d think it’s rude.”

  Caroline laughed. I was too busy checking out her living room to really pay much attention. It had really high ceilings and that fancy white trim all the way around the room. The couch was red velvet, but it looked soft and squishy and like it’d be a great place to read a book.

  “Come in, come in,” Caroline said, even though we were already in. She shut the door behind her, and we all stood there wondering what to do next. “How about some tea?”

  “Sure. Great,” I said. I didn’t want to be totally rude.

  She headed for the kitchen. “If you want to take your stuff upstairs, you’re sharing the first room on the right, on the second floor. Don’t climb out any windows and disappear on me,” she said, laughing.

  “We won’t,” Jess said.

  “I think she was joking,” I told Jessica in an undertone on the way up some steep, creaky stairs. After we’d bailed on her the day I fell in the bushes, I’d used Jessica’s phone to call from the pizza place Tracie and I had discovered on one of our adventures. I’d told Caroline we’d been in kind of a hurry and she’d sounded relieved to hear we weren’t planning to come back after all.

  On the second-floor landing, the sun played across the wooden planks and a musty but pleasant odor filled the air, kind of like the bookstore downtown, giving me a warm, comfortable feeling. Our room only had one bed in it, but it was huge. Not just wide, but high.

  “Look at that,” I said, pointing at some weird little steps on either side of the bed. “They made this for shorties like me. I hope I don’t fall out.”

  “I wish I had a room like this,” Jessica said. She threw herself across the mattress. “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

  I examined the bed closer. The solid wood frame looked like it weighed a ton. “They must’ve built it in this room,” I said. “How else would they get it up the stairs?”

  “I’m kind of afraid to touch anything,” Jessica said, looking around. “It’s like a museum in here.”

  “It reminds me of Miss Havisham’s without the dust and the old lady,” I told her. Oh, great. Now I was as bad as Jess, comparing the room to literature like she did to plays. I hoped Honors English didn’t turn me into a total geek.

  Two antique chairs with flowered cushions sat in one corner. A delicate end table between them created what they call “an inviting seating area” on those home décor shows Tracie likes to watch. Next to a wardrobe so big mine would’ve fit inside it, sat a vanity with glass bottles and a huge bouquet of fresh flowers.

  “I’m so glad you came with me,” I said.

  “It’ll be fun. Plus I don’t have to babysit all weekend.”

  “Bonus!”

  Caroline had jumped at the idea of my inviting Jessica to come along, which made me think she must be nervous too.

  “I guess we should go drink that tea,” I said.

  “Yeah.” Jess didn’t look any more excited about it than I felt.

  “Race you!” I said, trying to cheer us up.

  She surprised me by pushing me out of the way, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back, cutting off her exit. By the time we made it downstairs, we were breathless from shoving each other and wrestling our way down. We fell into the living room, laughing.

  Caroline was standing over a tea tray she’d set on a coffee table, staring at us. She tried to wipe the shock off her face by replacing it with a fake smile. “My,” she said. “You two must love tea.”

  “We must,” I said, and behind me I heard Jess trying to swallow her giggles. I think maybe we were both freaking out a little.

  Caroline had just picked up the teapot when her phone chirped. She handed the pot to me. “Help yourself,” she said, pulling the phone out of her pocket and looking at it. She immediately started texting someone.

  I filled Caroline’s cup, then I put about an inch in my cup and the same in Jessica’s. I raised my eyebrow at her and nodded to it and she winked back at me. “Sip it,” I mouthed, but Caroline was so into her phone, I doubt she would’ve heard me if I’d said it aloud.

  Jess and I sat down on the fat velvet couch. It was so poofy, my feet barely touched the floor. We pretended to drink our tea while Caroline stared at her phone. It beeped again, she sent another text, and then a minute later, it rang.

  “I have to take this,” she said to us and hurried out of the room.

  “Gee, this is fun,” I said to Jessica.

  She shrugged, always polite.

  I nodded at the tray. “I thought you were supposed to have cookies with tea.”

  “Maybe she’s getting them,” Jess said.

  “I’m not drinking this,” I said. “It tastes like dishwater.”

  “How do you know what dishwater tastes like?”

  “I have an older sister, remember? She’s tortured me in ways you’ve never thought of.”

  Jessica laughed. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

  We were still sitting there, not really saying anything, when Caroline returned. She’d put on a leather coat and was buttoning it up. “Susan? I’m sorry, but I have to run to the office for…an hour. Actually, maybe two.”

  “Now? On Saturday?”

  “I’m really sorry,” she said.

  She fiddled with the buttons on her coat, like she was upset or something. Of course, she was abandoning us after fifteen minutes, so she should feel bad.

  “Okay,” I said, because what else could I say?

  “I’ll…I’ll try to hurry…. Make yourselves at home.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  She grabbed her purse from a hook in the foyer, and we heard the front door shut behind her with a loud thump.

  “At least we don’t have to drink the tea,” Jessica said.

  “I guess.” I stood up. “Let’s check out the house while she’s gone.”

  “What if she comes back?”

  “She said she’d be an hour or two. Besides, knowing her, she’ll be gone for days.”

  Or years.

  “You lead,” Jessica said.

  “Let’s check out the second floor first,” I said.

  Jessica followed me back up the stairs and down a dim hallway. There were three other doors besides the guest room, and I ignored the dubious look she flung at me as I opened the first one. “Washroom,” I said, peering in at the claw-foot tub and then moving on. The house smelled old and the hallways were narrow and creaky. Maybe it was haunted. I hoped we didn’t find out.

  I pushed on a door that was partly open and looked in.

  “Wow. That’s some office,” Jessica said, leaning over my shoulder for a peek.

  It had everything Caroline could possibly need to run a business—computer, printer, copier, phone, and enough office supplies for her to start her own store. I wondered why she had to go to her real office at all.

  If that was her office supply store, her personal department store was right next door. The entire room had been transformed into a totally amazing walk-in closet. One whole wall was mirrored, and suits, jackets, pants, skirts, blouses, and eveningwear hung in rows, arranged by color. Above the racks, shoes and handbags lined the walls.

 
; “My God,” I said. “Do you think these are all her clothes?”

  “They must be,” Jessica said, taking it all in.

  I fingered some of the fabrics. Expensive. I checked out the labels. Designer. We ended up goofing around in there for at least an hour.

  “Check this out.” I held up a gold sequin cocktail dress in front of Jessica.

  “I could wear it when I win my first Tony Award,” she said.

  “Is that a Prada bag?” I asked, pointing.

  “Don’t touch it. It’s probably alarmed.”

  After a while, a flame of anger burned in my gut, kind of like when I first saw her house, car, and diamonds. Everything I owned came from a thrift store. Why did she have so much, while we had nothing?

  “Come on,” I said, swallowing my anger. “Let’s check out what’s upstairs.”

  “I don’t know, Suze,” Jess said. “I bet that’s Caroline’s bedroom.”

  “So what? I’m not going to touch anything.”

  I ventured toward the stairs while Jessica waited at the bottom. I knew she was nervous, but I didn’t call her on it. After all, if she hadn’t come with me to stay the night, I’d be in this big old house all by myself.

  “Okay,” I told her. “You wait there, and I’ll be right back.”

  This staircase was even narrower than the main one, and every step creaked, making my stomach flip-flop all the way up. It’s sort of eerie creeping around someone else’s house, not knowing what you might find. The stairs led to the attic, and there wasn’t any door at the top, so I suddenly found myself in Caroline’s bedroom. It wasn’t anything special; a white room with small windows, a lamp, and a bed. But the wild thing was, there were books piled everywhere. And I mean everywhere. She had a couple of low bookcases on one side of the room, but because of the sloped ceilings most of the books were stacked against the walls.

  I leaned down to get a closer look. There was everything from leather-bound classics with gold lettering to paperback romances—a couple of which I’d even read. A tower of thick, brightly colored fantasy novels sat next to the headboard, and travel guides teetered in the corner by a space heater. So this is where Tracie and I got our love for books. I’d finally found a connection to Caroline! Like that handwriting thing I’d read about, it had transcended her absence.

  A black pillow on the bed licked its paw and I realized it was the cat. “Oh, look.” I stuck out my hand. “Hello, sweet kitty. Hello there.”

  It raised its head and looked warily at me, but didn’t make a move. I sat on the edge of the bed and the cat immediately began to purr, so I scratched under its chin. “Nice kitty.”

  For about a tenth of a second, anyway. Then he rolled over and attacked my forearm with his claws and his teeth.

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch! Let go, you stupid cat!” I had to literally shake him off to get free. I sucked the scratch on my thumb as I ran downstairs to Jessica. “That cat is crazy!” I told her.

  Two hours later, Caroline still wasn’t back and we’d already explored the entire house from the attic bedroom to the spidery basement. Our stomachs were rumbling and grumbling, so we decided to raid the fridge.

  “How old do you think this chicken is?” Jess asked, sniffing it.

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Smell it, and tell me if you think it’s good or not.”

  “Pass,” I said. “I don’t even eat meat, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Based on the contents of the fridge, I decided not to take my chances on anything. There was half a bottle of wine, a pitcher of water, a moldy cucumber, and leftovers from every restaurant in town. But nothing either of us was willing to try eating.

  “Maybe there’s something in the cupboards,” Jessica suggested.

  As I touched the pantry door the phone rang. “Do we answer it?” I asked.

  “She probably has voicemail.”

  “But maybe it’s her calling us,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t she try your cell?”

  “Maybe.” I ran upstairs and fished it out of my bag, but the battery was dead. Story of my life. By the time I got back downstairs, the landline was ringing again.

  “Maybe you should answer it,” Jess said.

  I picked up the receiver. “Hello? I mean, Walker residence.”

  “Susan? It’s Caroline.”

  “Caroline who?”

  “Touché,” she said. “I’m really sorry this has taken so long. Are you guys all right?”

  I sighed. “Umm…well…”

  “Great. See you in a while.”

  The phone clicked in my ear. She hung up just in time too, because I was about to tell her what I thought of her. Having me over was her stupid idea in the first place. I was beginning to see what I’d been missing all these years.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 27

  In the living room, I pointed at a framed photo on the mantelpiece. “I wonder if that was her husband.”

  “Maybe,” Jess said. “They look happy.”

  In the picture Caroline stood, smiling next to a tall man with reddish-brown hair. He didn’t look old or anything, though. The way I’d imagined it, she’d married some ancient guy, and he kicked the bucket, and she got his dough, but now I wasn’t so sure. After I’d seen this house the other day, I’d asked my dad if my grandparents were wealthy and he said it was none of my business where Caroline got her money. Sheesh.

  “Do you think it’s okay if we have a fire?” Jessica asked. “I’m freezing.”

  “There isn’t any wood.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s electric.”

  On closer inspection, I saw she was right. We crawled around the fireplace trying to figure out how to turn it on, but after ten minutes, we gave up. “Maybe it’s a hidden switch behind one of these old paintings,” I said.

  Jessica laughed. “I think pictures usually hide wall safes, not fireplace switches.”

  “Oooh,” I said. “Do you think there is one? She must keep her diamonds somewhere.” I shifted a painting to one side. No safe, just discolored wallpaper. “Wow. The paintings must’ve come with the house. That’s sort of creepy. Maybe that bed really has been here since the beginning of time.”

  “Yeah, and think of all the people who’ve died in this house,” Jessica said.

  “Maybe even in that bed,” I added.

  Shivers crawled up my spine. I wasn’t really scared or anything, but the cloudy day had dissolved into darkness, and I looked around the gloomy living room wondering about ghosts. I flipped a light switch by the door and the fireplace roared to life, making us both jump and then laugh.

  “Boy, are we stupid,” I said.

  We settled down in front of the fire with a fancy scrapbook I’d found on a bookshelf. “Look at this.” I held it open to a picture of a baby that could only be described as gorgeous.

  “Too sweet to be you,” Jessica said. “That must be Tracie.”

  “Susan, six months,” I read, gloating. “I was a beautiful baby, wasn’t I? I wonder how come Caroline got all these photos and Dad got zilch?”

  “He got the real thing,” Caroline said from behind me.

  Both Jessica and I jumped about a mile. Man, now I knew where Tracie got her sneakiness from. I hadn’t even heard Caroline come in.

  “Yeah, well…” I said.

  We both knew she could’ve had Tracie and me if she’d wanted us. At least for some of the time anyway. Caroline flopped down on the couch, kicking off her shoes. Jessica straightened up the pile of loose photos and albums we’d been digging through.

  “When I said make yourselves at home,” Caroline said, “it didn’t occur to me you’d go searching through my personal things.”

  “We had a lot of time to kill,” I told her.

  “Touché.�
��

  Touché? I wish she’d quit saying that. She’d stolen that from Dad. Or had she? Maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten it from her? That might have been possible. Oooh, yuck. Maybe it was one of those “couple” things. Whatever. I didn’t really like her using it. But what could I do about it? A big fat zero. That’s what.

  Caroline leaned her head back against the couch and shut her eyes. “Sorry it took me so long.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, because that’s what polite people say, and Caroline and I were still in that civil stage.

  “Are you two hungry?”

  “No,” I said. “Jessica had a candy bar in her bag and we split it.” So much for civil.

  “Well, I’m starved,” Caroline said, my sarcasm totally blowing right over her blond head.

  “So are we,” I said. “I was joking.”

  “Everyone good with Japanese food?” she asked.

  I made a face. “As long as it’s not sushi.”

  She laughed. “I know how you feel about raw fish, Susan. Not that all sushi’s raw fish, but don’t worry, we’ll get noodles, tempura, and rice.”

  Hopefully tempura wasn’t squid or something gross. “Okay with you, Jess?” I asked, kind of hoping she’d say no.

  “Yeah, fine. Sounds good.” But her voice was high and squeaky like she was trying to be polite. Of course, Caroline didn’t notice.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d like noodles, tempura, and rice either because when do I ever get to go out to eat? And when we do, it’s never fancy. And even though Dad’s grandparents came from Japan, he’d never been into his heritage or anything. To us, ethnic food was poutine.

  The noodles turned out to be kind of like Top Ramen, except better, and tempura was pieces of vegetables deep fried in batter and served with rice and soy sauce. I thought it tasted pretty good, but I could tell Jessica was struggling because she hates veggies. When Caroline went to get more wine I let her dump all the things she didn’t like onto my plate. What were friends for, anyway?

  Caroline brought the dessert out to the living room. She set delicate china bowls of mint ice cream in front of us. I took a big bite and gagged on the taste. “What flavor is this?”