Page 2 of Don't Call Me Daddy
“Shush, I’m not done.” She holds her finger over her mouth. “Trust the universe and take chances. Make friends everywhere I go. Do something that terrifies me. Make something better than it was before.”
“Those seem reasonable?—”
“Visit Dracula’s Castlein Transylvania…”
“And we’re back to the monster obsession,” I say with a laugh. “Honestly, sis, where do you come up with this stuff?”
She taps her lip like she’s thinking. “I don’t know. I guess if I had to pinpoint it back to a specific event, I’d have to say when I was three and watchedBeauty and the Beastfor the first time and the utter disappointment I felt as soon as the Beast transformed into a human … but I can’t be sure.”
I twist my lips and nod my head, considering … because she’s got me there. I sure as hell didn’t expect her to actually have a good reason, but alas, Fern never ceases to amaze me with her ability to sell even the most absurd of ideas with confidence.
“And how exactly do you plan on doing these things?”
“I have no idea, but I trust the universe to make a way for me. I want it; therefore, it wants me too.”
“I don’t know what that means, but you know what? Somehow, I believe you anyway.” I shake my head and laugh. “Anything else?”
She wipes a hand over the paper, as if smoothing out the wrinkles, and starts reading, “Change someone’s life … for the better. And last but not least, fall in love—not the kind of love that Mom and Dad had, but the real kind?—”
“Like in your romance novels?” I tease.
Her grin widens. “Exactly. The real kind. But not right away. I want to be sure of it, and I can only do that if I’ve lived a full enough life—so I know what to compare it to. Which is why I need to do all these things—so I’ll be ready.”
I nod in agreement because if she’s going to be delusional, at least she’s being as logical as possible.
“Your imagination is somewhat concerning—you know that?” I throw a pillow at her, and she ducks out of the way, then curtsies before jumping down to lie on the floor beside me.
With our heads resting on our open palms, we stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that she made me help her stick on when we were ten. It almost feels like we’re camping with only the dim glow of the sunset filtering in through her large bay window.
“When do you think you’re going to have time to do all that stuff?” I turn on my side to face her, propping my head on my hand. “And sleeping with your boss … that’s one way of getting fired.”
She waves my question away like it’s no big deal. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take a year off before I go to college and knock out most of it. That’s what they do in Europe, isn’t it? I’m not worried about the timeline. I’ll have my whole life to work on it.”
“And then what? What happens when you finish the list? Are you just done, or do you get some kind of prize or?—”
“The adventureisthe list, Ivy.” She turns to face me now, like what she’s about to say is something profound. “Finishing the list will just mean that I did all the things I’d always wanted to do. That I tried a lot of new things. Failed a lot. And hopefully learned a ton along the way.” She sucks in a breath and smiles. “Finishing the list is just the beginning. I hope to have ten more lists created by the time it’s all said and done. I never want to be complacent, you know? I always want to have an experience to look forward to. That’s what makes life so fun.”
In other words, she doesn’t want to be complacent like Mom. That makes two of us. If I’ve learned anything from my parents’ rocky marriage, it’s that it’s easy to lose yourself when you’re with the wrong person. We’ve watched our mother slowly lose herself over the last few years, eventually receiving disability benefits for her crippling depression. It finally got so bad that Dad left, which makes things a little easier now that we don’t have to pretend he’s not running around on her.
Lucky for me, Fern’s always been the one to keep the household running and take care of things. I can’t help but dream of the day where we only have to worry about ourselves … but then I feel guilty.
I know Fern does, too, but she’s stronger than me. She doesn’t let it get to her as much … or she doesn’t show it anyway.
“Why are you so weird?” I ruffle her long hair, and she moves to tickle me as we both launch into a fit of giggles.
With a sigh, we fall back on our backs in the same position we started in.
“You know what would be, like, the funnest thing ever?” Her voice comes out in an excited squeak … and I already think I know where this is going.
“What would be the funnest thing ever?” I humor her.
“What if we did it together?” She flips on her stomach and kicks her feet behind her. “It can be our sister trip after we graduate. We can take off a year before college and check as many things off as we can. And we can document the whole thing and write a book about our adventures. Then, when we’re old and we can’t remember anything, we can read it and experience it all over again!” She squeals the last part out, her voice trailing higher and higher, like hearing her idea out loud was just as much of a surprise to her as it was to me.
I can’t help but laugh and agree because no one can tell my sister no when she’s excited about something. “Fine, Ferny, I’lldo it. But only if you promise you’ll hold my hand for all the crazy stuff.”
She grabs my hand and interlocks our fingers. “Don’t worry, Ivy. I’ve got you. I promise I won’t let go until you tell me to.”
She kisses our clasped hands, and then we lie back down, staring at the plastic stars in silence until we both fall asleep. And just like she promised, she doesn’t let go of my hand all night.
