Finding Balance Read online

  Finding Balance

  B. E. Baker

  Copyright © 2020 by Bridget E. Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For Jocelyn

  * * *

  you can love your past and embrace your future

  at the very same time <3

  Contents

  1. Amy

  2. Amy

  3. Mary

  4. Luke

  5. Amy

  6. Amy

  7. Anica

  8. Luke

  9. Amy

  10. Amy

  11. Sample of Already Gone

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by B. E. Baker

  1

  Amy

  Plenty of things make me nervous. Math tests. Mean girls. Snarling dogs. Hospitals.

  But singing doesn’t.

  Cuz I’m really good at it.

  I don’t mean that in a braggy way. I just like to do it, and people smile a lot when I do. But that’s why I know I’m doing a good job singing “Tomorrow” for Mrs. Tassain, my music teacher—because she beams at me pretty much the whole time.

  Even so, when she says, “Amy, I think you’d be the perfect person to play Annie in our second grade play,” I’m surprised.

  Shocked, really.

  And then I’m scared.

  Because Piper wants that part. Everyone knows she wants it. She practices the songs over and over, all the time. On the playground, at lunch, on class breaks. Whenever.

  Twenty minutes ago, I heard her telling Mia and Lacy that the part is as good as hers. That’s why I’m happy that the only other person in this room right now is Coach Brian. It would be just as bad if Piper knew I’d been offered Annie as if I took it, I think, but I doubt Coach Brian, who’s directing the play, or Mrs. Tassain, who’s handling the music, will tell anyone else.

  Piper already hates me. The last thing I need to do is take her part. I can’t even imagine what else she would do or say, but I know it would be bad. Really, really bad.

  I shake my head pretty hard. “I don’t want to play Annie,” I lie.

  Mrs. Tassain leans back in her chair, her eyes wide. “You don’t want to play the lead role?”

  “I mean, thank you so much, but no thank you.”

  She opens her mouth and then closes it. Mom does that sometimes when she’s not sure what to say.

  “I do want to be in the play, just not as Annie.”

  Mrs. Tassain taps her lip. “I suppose you could play Grace, the woman who is Mr. Warbucks’ assistant.”

  And pretend to love Piper and tell her she’s so great? Um, that would not be easy.

  “What role would you like?”

  What role won’t make my life harder? “What about the mean lady? What’s her name again?”

  Coach Brian laughs. “You want to play Mrs. Hannigan?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

  “She gets to boss everyone around, and I like to do that.”

  Mrs. Tassain snorts.

  “Mom says I’m pretty good at it.” I glance from Coach Brian to Mrs. Tassain, who are both smiling in kind of a painful looking way. “I have a little brother,” I explain.

  They both start laughing really loud. They must both have little brothers. They definitely get it.

  “Well, if you’re sure.” Coach Brian writes something down on his paper.

  “Does that mean I’m playing Mrs. Hannigan?”

  Mrs. Tassain shrugs. “If that’s what you want, then yes.”

  I’m smiling when I walk out the door. I should have known better.

  “Why are you so happy?” Piper’s slumped against the wall outside the music room waiting for her turn to sing, but she stands up and tosses her shiny brown hair over her shoulder.

  It’s too late, but I frown instead. “I’m not happy.”

  One of her eyebrows rises and she frowns back. Her best friends Lacy and Mia stand up too, and they take their places on either side of her. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to be Annie.”

  Lacy and Mia laugh.

  “Because Mrs. Tassain would never pick someone who screams like a sheep.”

  “Bleats,” I say, without thinking. “Sheep don’t scream. They bleat.”

  Piper’s lip curls.

  Oh no.

  “I better go,” I say. “I’m sure my mom is waiting for me.”

  “Your mom’s having a baby soon, right?” Piper presses her lips tightly and cocks one hip.

  I nod.

  “I figured she was, since she looks like a whale.”

  “She’s really pretty,” I say, even though I ought to just walk away. I ignore a lot of stuff she says to me, but I can’t let Piper make fun of my mom.

  “Are you worried?” Her voice sounds concerned, which scares me. A lot. Piper’s never nice, not to me.

  “About what?” I shift my backpack on my shoulders, a little nervous. My first mom died having my little brother, Chase. But Dad and Mom both say she’s fine. “Her doctor is really good.”

  Piper rolls her eyes. “Not about that, dummy.”

  I wish she’d just say whatever mean thing she’s going to say. “What then?”

  “Well.” She steps a little closer and pretends to whisper, but it’s what Mrs. Tassain would call a stage whisper, which means everyone in the hall can still hear her. They all lean toward us, eager to hear what she’ll say next. “Once she has a real kid, are you worried she won’t like you anymore?”

  I wasn’t. Not until right now.

  Mary hasn’t known me a super long time, but she loves me. I know she does. I mean, I know she loves me. She can’t fake smiling at me or tucking me in and kissing my forehead. Right? I’d know.

  But for the first time, I wonder whether she loves me because I’m all she has. Will she love the new baby more? And if she does, what does that mean for me? Or for Chase?

  Piper’s smile gets bigger. Crap. I should have said something, or denied it, or anything but blinking and staring.

  “My mom will love us all the same.” But I don’t sound very sure.

  Probably because I don’t feel very sure.

  I turn on my heel and run down the hall toward the front of the school. The good news is that I push through the front door fast enough that no one in the hall sees me crying.

  The bad news is that I’m wiping tears off my face when I push through the front door, and my dad is waiting for me in his giant truck—staring right at me when I come out, actually. Which means he definitely sees, and there’s pretty much no way he’s going to let this go.

  He leaps from his truck, its engine rumbling loudly, and picks me up with both arms, hugging me tightly. “What’s wrong, button?”

  “Hello?” Mom’s voice calls from inside his truck. “Luke? Are you still there?”

  She must’ve been talking to him on the phone while he waited.

  “He’s hugging Amy,” Chase yells. “We’re all here.”

  “Uh, hang on one second,” Dad whispers to me. “Chase is right. I’m here, but Amy’s upset. Can I call you back?”

  “Keep me on!” she practically shouts. “I want to know what’s wrong!”

  Oh, no.

  “It’s nothing,” I say. “I fell and bumped my knee.”

  Dad opens the back door of the truck and tosses me up into the seat. He glares. “She’s saying she fell, but she looks fine, and I think she’s making it up.”

  I roll my eyes. “There’s a
girl who isn’t being really nice, but it’s fine. If you do anything, it’ll make her be meaner.”

  “Can I talk to you about it when I get home?” Mom asks. “I’m on my way right now.” She goes in to work ridiculously early so she can pick us up from school. Usually.

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asks. “Piper’s a jerk still?”

  “Is that her name?” Dad asks. “Piper?” His hand clenches and his lips press into a flat line. “Because I’ve got a few things to say to her parents.”

  “Dad!” Ugh. Today keeps getting worse. “Please leave it alone.”

  “Let me talk to Amy about it,” Mom begs. “There’s no reason to go around yelling at anyone’s parents. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Fine,” Dad says. “Fine.” He finally climbs into the front seat of the truck, which is a good sign, but when he puts the shifter into the go position, the engine roars and the truck shoots forward awfully fast for a school parking lot. Which means he’s still mad. “I’ll see you soon, honey.” There’s a little beep when the call disconnects.

  Yelling at Piper’s mom is the worst thing they could do. I hope Mom listens to me. “I have good news,” I say. Maybe hearing about my part will make Dad happy enough to forget about the whole thing.

  “What’s that?” The fake happiness in his voice is super obvious, but it’s better than growling.

  “I got a part in the second grade play.”

  “Annie, right?” he asks.

  I smile. He’s listened to me practicing over the past few weeks. “Yep.”

  “That’s great. Are you Annie?”

  I look at my hands. Should I have taken that part? Will he be sad I’m not? “Uh, no. Not Annie.”

  “What part are you playing, then?”

  “I’m going to be Mrs. Hannigan. I’m really excited.”

  “Isn’t she the awful lady?” Dad turns around to look at me while we’re sitting at a red light, his face surprised.

  I grin. “Yes! I get to yell at everyone.”

  Chase says, “Awesome.”

  “And you’re excited about that?” Dad searches my face.

  I nod and force a smile. Hopefully he won’t notice.

  He turns back around and sighs heavily. “Well, if you’re excited, so am I. Do you have practice every day after school, then?”

  I pull the practice schedule out of my backpack and hold it on my lap. “If I was Annie I would, but I only have to go three days a week for Mrs. Hannigan. They set up the scenes so that we each come on the days we need to be there.”

  “That’s smart.”

  “I’ll give you the list of days when we get home.”

  “Well I’m very proud of you, Amy. You’ll be amazing, and we’ll all be there to see it.”

  I swallow. “The thing is, Mom is due to have the baby in April, right?”

  Dad beams—which I can see in the rear view mirror. “Tax baby, due April fifteenth.”

  It’s been a pretty common joke around our house lately. I’m not quite sure why that’s funny, but I know it is. “Well, the play is on April seventeenth.” I breathe in and out. “Can I still do it?”

  Dad grunts. “Let me talk to Mary and I’ll let you know for sure, but I think we can work something out. Even if the timing causes problems, I’m sure your grandma and grandpa can help.”

  “Okay.”

  When we get home, Dad starts unloading groceries. He must have taken Chase to pick up food while I was auditioning and then came back to get me.

  Chase and I scramble inside as quickly as we can. Andromeda, our big shaggy white dog, licks our faces and hands. No matter how bad my day is, Andy’s always super-duper happy to see me. I drop my backpack and sit on the floor to scratch her behind her ears. Chase throws his backpack down and flips his sneakers off, barely pausing on his way to grab a snack.

  That kid always does the same thing.

  Dad trips over a shoe and almost drops a gallon of milk. “Hey! Shoes, backpacks. What are we—”

  “Animals?” I interrupt with a smile that isn’t fake. He always says the same thing, but he never really seems angry.

  I pick up Chase’s shoes and backpack and carry it all over to the cubbies Mom had built after we moved here. “It’s only a few feet away,” I mutter, just like Mom does. “I’m not sure why it’s so hard for them to put things away.”

  I love that I have a mom now, even when she complains. Even when she mutters. Even when she scowls. All the things that other kids complain about, I love. She does all those things because she loves me.

  I just hope it doesn’t change when she has a real kid, one that’s actually hers.

  The rumble of a garage door tells me she’s home. My heart speeds up. As if she knows I need it, Andy bumps my hand with her head, reminding me that she loves me no matter what. I sit on the shoe bench and resume scratching her ears. When Mom walks through the door, her face immediately lights up. “Amy.”

  “Hey.”

  She drops her purse and laptop bag on the bench next to me, hangs her keys on the hook, and crouches down in front of me, one hand going to her belly. After a half chuckle, she drops to the floor, cross-legged. “Wow, I am not coordinated right now.”

  I look at the big round part of her stomach where my new little baby brother is growing. I hope he loves me as much as I love him. And I hope Mom still loves me after he’s born. “I think you’re doing pretty good.”

  “Pretty well,” she corrects. “So what’s going on?”

  She doesn’t usher me into my room, or her room, or the family room. She drops down on the floor in the laundry room and immediately asks me what’s wrong. Like I’m the most important thing in the world. For some reason, that makes me cry.

  “Oh, no,” she says softly. “What did I say?”

  I shake my head.

  But she pulls me down against her anyway, hugging me to her chest and stroking my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I shake my head.

  “Look, we don’t have to talk about it right now. But tell me this. Is there a girl at school who’s being mean to you?” Her arms loosen enough for me to pull away and sit back on the bench.

  I can’t quite meet her eyes, but I nod.

  “Okay. Is her name Piper? Is that what Chase said?”

  I nod again.

  “Well, this is the first I’ve heard about it, but I’m guessing it’s not a new problem, judging by your reaction and Chase’s knowledge of her name.”

  My lip wobbles. When I finally look up, Mom’s eyes are soft. She feels sorry for me.

  “Oh, Amy. If you believe a single word I say, believe this. I may be older than you by quite a lot, but if there’s one thing I know a lot about, it’s having kids at school pick on me. It was a daily occurrence, and not a single adult ever did a thing about it. I handled it all on my own.”

  I think about that while Mom and Dad make dinner. Mom doesn’t talk about when she was a kid very much, but since we never see her parents, I am thinking the stories aren’t going to be very good. Aunt Trudy makes weird jokes sometimes too—like once she mentioned that they were raised by wolves. At least, I thought it was a joke because Mom laughed, but I’m not sure quite why it was funny.

  Maybe she’ll actually have some ideas that could help me. Maybe she’ll understand why Dad can’t go yell at Piper’s mom.

  When Mom starts to mix up the salad, I know it’s almost dinner time, so I leave to wash my hands. When I come back out, I realize Mom and Dad are talking, and they don’t sound very happy. Sometimes they do that. They wait until me and Chase aren’t in the room to talk. Usually it’s when they have something angry to say.

  I worry they’re talking all weird and snappy because of me, so I listen in from behind the half wall.

  “It’s a huge mistake, but it’s not your fault,” Dad says. “You didn’t make the error.”

  “No I didn’t, but he works for me, and as the boss—”

  “But you
didn’t want to hire him, and when he screwed up last time, you demanded they let him go.” Dad throws the kitchen towel at the countertop. “If they’d have listened to you, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  Mom puts a hand on his shoulder. “We all answer to someone, and it was still my job to make sure he didn’t ruin anything else.”

  “I’m not mad at you.” Dad leans toward her. “You know that, right?”

  Mom smiles, her hand brushing his cheek. “Of course I do.”

  “But with our surprise baby coming at tax time, and this catastrophe with the filing, and Trudy and Paul getting married at Easter.” He groans. “I’m already worried about you.” He puts both his hands on Mom’s belly. “I don’t want you stressed out. Surely you understand why.”

  Mom kisses him, and it makes me smile. They may shout sometimes, but they do love each other. “You want to slay all my dragons and vanquish all my demons. I know, and I love that about you. But I can slay my own dragons, and you’re strong enough and you trust me enough to let me.”

  “One of these days you’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to leave that dumb firm and start your own.”

  “With all the business I’ve brought in, I certainly could.”

  “And then you wouldn’t be stuck hiring morons and cleaning up after their messes.” Dad kisses Mom one more time. But the oven buzzes and they both spring into action. Mom pulls the rolls out, and Dad tosses croutons on the salad. Then they tell Alexa to announce that dinner is ready.

  After dinner, Mom stands up and smooths her shirt over her stomach, tugging down on the bottom. “I think these shirts are shrinking,” she says with a smile.

  Dad laughs. “Yeah, they probably are.”

  I don’t think they’re shrinking. I think her belly is getting bigger. But maybe that’s the joke.

  Mom grabs the leash and Andy jumps to her feet. “I thought Amy might want to go for a walk with me and Andromeda.”