I stare at my knees, cheeks burning.
Barbara keeps going. “But I think inter-race relationships are such a delight. I really do. You know, my grandson Joshua married the loveliest girl. Prisha. Her relatives traveled all the way from India for the wedding. Oh, it was absolutely wonderful. All of those beautiful traditions—I’m sure you know.” She smiles at Maya, who looks frozen. “But here’s—”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “We’d, uh, love to tell you about Jordan Rossum, if that’s okay.”
“Sure!” Barbara glances down at the picture again. “What a sweet face. I swear, he looks barely old enough to drive.”
“Um. Yeah.” My eyes flick sideways to Maya. “He looks young, for sure. But Rossum has years of experience working for Georgians in our district at a local level. In fact—”
“Is he Jewish?” Barbara asks. “He looks Jewish! I wonder if I know this young man’s parents from shul. Remind me, what’s his name again?”
“Jordan Rossum,” I say. “R-O-S—”
“It’s on the flyer,” says Maya. “And actually, if you look at the flyer, there’s lots of information about his platform. I know people are probably interested in his position on health care—”
“You know who he resembles? The Shapiros’ eldest daughter. I’ll have to ring up Nancy.”
“Um. Great,” I say, with a quick sideways glance at Maya. “So, uh, can we count on your vote on July ninth?”
Barbara looks me right in the eye. “Tell me this. Is he a Democrat?” I nod. “Well. In that case, you can tell this gentleman he’s got my vote. No question about that.”
I sneak one last glance at Maya—and this time she’s smiling for real.
“Well, that was . . . something,” Maya says as we wave goodbye to Barbara from the sidewalk. “I was pretty sure we were about to get Hansel and Gretel’d.”
“Yeah, I kind of expected that cookie to start talking to me. Like the gingerbread guy from Shrek.”
Maya laughs, which makes me feel slightly light-headed.
I look away quickly. “Also, I’m not sure if that was allowed?”
“If what was allowed?”
“Going into someone’s home and eating their food?” I rub my forehead. “It might be an improper campaign contribution or something. Gabe is always talking about stuff like that. How they get you over the little things.”
Maya looks amused. “Um, I think we’re good.”
“Well, at least she opened the door,” I say. “And we got our first commitment to vote!”
And just like that, it hits me: we actually did it. I did it. I just talked to a total stranger, and I didn’t choke or knock the table over or anything. And here I am living to tell about it.
I log the visit on my phone, and marking Barbara as a definite yes voter tugs happily at my heart. Maybe Gabe was right all along. Maybe this could really tip the scales. After all, you never know how things will go. Maybe Rossum will win by a single vote—Barbara’s vote. Maybe Maya and I just flipped our district in a single afternoon.
Maybe we changed history.
I think it’s the first time I’ve ever wished I could high-five myself. I would totally high-five Maya if I didn’t think she’d find it weird and excessive. Something tells me she’s not about to run a victory lap over a single voter commitment.
But then again, when I look up from my phone, Maya’s outright grinning.
So maybe I should—
“Hey,” I say slowly, trying to keep my voice from jumping. “Um. If you ever want to do this again—”
Maya’s smile fades. Crap. Okay.
“Or not,” I say frantically. “Or, you know. You could canvass on your own, or with someone else. No worries. Or you could go with me again. If you want. No pressure. I just mean Gabe is always looking for volunteers. So I would go again . . . if you wanted to. Either way.” I attempt a smile. “Yes, no, maybe so, right? Ha ha.”
She presses her lips together. “Um—”
“Okay, wow, I’m putting you on the spot, and you’re probably really busy, and I’m sorry. Seriously, no worries,” I say. My whole face is burning. Pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen when you’re casually notifying someone about volunteering opportunities. I mean, Gabe is always looking for volunteers. I’m not making that up.
“I’m not . . .” She pulls her phone out, glances at the screen, and shoves it back into her pocket. “I don’t know, Jamie.”
“Okay.” I smile slightly. “That sounds like a maybe so.”
She smiles back, shaking her head slowly. And there’s that heart-tug-high-five feeling in my chest all over again.
Chapter Six
Maya
It’s Saturday.
My dad should be on the ottoman watching soccer. My mother should be jotting down the weekly grocery list. And all of us should be arguing about whose turn it is to fold the laundry.
But the television is off today. The ottoman is empty. And the light only just turned on in my parents’ bedroom. Besides Willow crunching her food next to the fridge, the house is silent. I grip the book in my hands so tightly, my knuckles go white.
“Hey, honey.” My mother walks up to me, wearing a white robe over her pj’s, and yawns. I study her expression; does she also feel it’s weird? This first weekend without my dad? Or is she relieved? Her face is unreadable.
“What do you have there?” She gestures to my book.
“Saints and Misfits.”
“Reading it again?” She smiles.
“It’s a good one. I have a couple of holds ready for me at the library too.”
“I’ll swing by and get them on my way home from work Monday,” she promises. “Any plans for today? The car is all yours if you need it.”
“Sara said she might be free this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’ll be nice,” my mother says. “You haven’t had a chance to see too much of each other. How do you feel? With her leaving so soon?”
I look down at the counter.
“I don’t even know how to process what life will look like without her.”
“She’ll still be part of your life,” my mother says. “And she’ll be home for holidays and vacation.”
“But it won’t be the same.”
“I’m so sorry, Maya.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “This is a lot. So many things landing at once.”
I blink back tears.
“How are you feeling? About . . . everything else?” she says gently.
I shrug. Like I got hit with a sledgehammer. That’s how I feel. She knows that, doesn’t she?
“I hate not knowing how long this will last.”
“Me too,” she says softly.
My phone buzzes. It’s Shelby Yang from school.
Shelby: Mateo and Olivia are getting a group together to see the new Marvel movie. 8:20 p.m. showing. You in?
Maya: Oh, I’d love to, but today’s a little tough. I’m so sorry!
Shelby: You’re the busiest person I know! Get you next time?