“Really?” Pinky said, folding her arms slowly and looking at her mother. “I would be happy to hear Dolly out. But I don’t think she’s the only one who owes me an apology.”
After a pause, Meera Mausi stood. “I’m going to go see what the men are up to.” She smiled at Pinky, patted her mom on the shoulder, and walked off.
Pinky’s mom folded her hands neatly on the table and looked Pinky right in the eye. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Pinky raised an eyebrow and waited.
“For accusing you of something you hadn’t done in this instance.”
Pinky frowned. “That’s not a real apology!”
Her mom continued to study her with an infuriating calmness she probably used in her multimillion-dollar negotiations. “What would you consider a real apology?”
Pinky threw her hands up in the air. “How about ‘I’m sorry for defaming your character with absolutely no evidence’? How about ‘I should never have even uttered the words I did last night without being completely sure of what I was saying’? How about ‘I judged you and condemned you for absolutely no reason’?” Pinky’s voice had risen with every question until she was aware she was almost shouting. She took a deep breath.
Her mom remained aggravatingly unruffled, like always. Was she capable of any feeling besides intense disappointment? “I understand that you’re upset,” she said, a phrase that sounded suspiciously borrowed from Meera Mausi. “But, Pinky, can you blame me?”
“What?”
“Can you blame me?” her mom asked again, lifting her hands. “You know what they say. Past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. Would you say you’ve given us a reason to believe it wasn’t you? Can you honestly say that?”
Pinky opened her mouth to bite out a response, then closed it again. “I…”
Her mom pushed her chair back and stood. “I didn’t think so. I told you. If you continue to make weak decisions—”
Arrgh! How could she be so casually condescending? So coolly judgmental? She was just so sure Pinky was a giant walking catastrophe, wasn’t she? “But I’ve made a great decision! I have a boyfriend! One even you’d approve of,” she couldn’t help but add.
Her mom looked up and folded her arms neatly across her chest. “You said that yesterday.”
The ‘but’ was hanging in the air, waving in the breeze. “But?”
Her mom took a deep breath. “But… I’m not sure I believe that. You’ve not said a word about this boyfriend, and if he is as good as you say he is, why haven’t you? The only boyfriends you ever hide are the ones who have a history of shoplifting hubcaps.”
Pinky felt her cheeks flame. “That was one time! And it was, like, two hubcaps!”
Her mom raised her eyebrows.
“A-and anyway,” Pinky continued, not willing to be deterred. “He is real. In fact, he’s coming to stay with us for a bit. So you can all meet him.”
Her mom’s arms dropped. Ha ha ha. That’s right. Now she was listening. “What?”
“Hmm?” Pinky examined her glitter-painted nails. “Oh, yeah. I invited him here, so you could all meet him. I mean, since you clearly didn’t believe me about setting fire to the place and everything and you were obviously wrong. I decided it was time for you guys to meet him. So you can finally believe something I say.”
“I see,” her mom said, looking completely stunned. “So… when’s he coming?”
“Later today. He had a really prestigious internship at a DC law firm lined up, but it fell through.”
Her mom’s eyes widened, as Pinky had known they would do. So that’s what her mom looked like when she was impressed. “A law firm in DC?”
“Mm-hmm.” Pinky smiled innocently. “It’s okay that I invited him here, right?”
“Yes, of course,” her mom said, looking and sounding completely dazed, like she was one of those cartoon characters with birds flying around their heads in a slow circle. “That… that’s fine. What’s his name?”
“Samir Jha,” Pinky said. “Oh, and did I tell you? He’s planning to go to Harvard next year.” She grabbed her cereal and poured it into her bowl, whistling again.
* * *
Pinky walked outside after finishing her breakfast. For the first time in a long time, she felt… not exactly happy, but smug. Like she finally had the upper hand.
She kicked a pinecone out of the way as she headed out of the backyard, down a small path, and into the forest that bordered their property on the west side. Why couldn’t her mom just have believed her about the barn? And okay, she had a point that Pinky hadn’t really given them a reason to believe her… but at least she could’ve been more conciliatory! If she had sincerely apologized to Pinky, maybe said something along the lines of, I don’t know how I ever doubted you, my darling girl, Pinky would’ve totally forgiven her dramatic outburst the night before.
The sun beat down on her shoulders through gaps in the trees. It was hotter than usual in Ellingsworth this time of year, and Pinky was glad she was dressed in a tank top and shorts. She looked around at the forest, at the spruces and the horse chestnuts and the oak trees that had all sprung up out of the ground, unfettered by human meddling.
Pinky stopped walking for a moment and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of sun-warmed bark and pine needles and grass. A songbird chirped questioningly at her from a branch above. Pinky smiled; she loved this place. In spite of all the drama of the past two days, this felt like home. When she was here, she knew everything was going to be okay. It was peaceful. Nothing could go wrong.
Someone grabbed her by the shoulder.
Pinky let out a scream that could make mighty mountains cower and swung around, her hands out in a karate pose she saw in a Batgirl movie once.
“Just me,” Dolly said, her eyes wide. Her hair was in two braids, which made her look innocent and sweet. Pinky was pretty sure she herself had never looked that innocent and sweet, probably not even on the day she was born. “Sorry.”
Pinky let her hands drop. “You’re lucky I didn’t chop you in half.”
“Yeah.” Dolly smoothed down her dragonfly-print sundress. “Hey, I came out here to find you and… apologize.”
“Oh yeah?” Pinky began walking again, and Dolly stepped in beside her. She ran her hand along the trunks of the trees they passed, but every sense was attuned to Dolly.
“I know my mom must’ve told you, but uh, it was me. I was the reason the barn caught on fire. I’m sorry for that—I know we both loved that barn—and I’m also sorry that your mom blamed you. And I’m sorry for being reckless.”
Pinky raised an eyebrow and looked at her cousin. “That’s a lot of apologizing.”
Dolly shrugged. Her shoulders were already turning pink from the sun. “Well, that was a lot of unthinking irresponsibility. I should never have done that.”
“Wait.” Pinky stopped, frowning. “So you just went into the barn and set it on fire?” Was her flawless cousin some kind of closet arsonist who’d totally fooled everyone?