Saturday we had a family party for Starry, and I baked a cake with his favorite buttercream icing. He had only a small slice because of the weight thing but said he wished he could have more. There was the awarding of souvenirs and I had a small pile of stuff to take back to the condo from Grandpa's extra suitcase. I'd given him the tea set earlier and he'd seemed charmed by the snow leopards painted on the porcelain. People were polite about the ink paintings, so that was kind of a miss on my part, but it's the thought that counts, right? I thought they were pretty and had gotten one for myself; I could take it to college with me. My brother liked the panda keychain a lot and immediately started transferring his keys. The cats liked the little black and white panda toys I'd gotten for them too; Invisible Steve took his and ran away. Grandpa's silk slippers weren't as big a hit as I'd thought--I loved mine, they were lined inside with silk and had a suede sole. But the pearl jewelry was oohed and ahed over and I immediately swapped the green jade earrings he'd gotten me on our first big adventure and went to the bathroom to look at them. They were a beautiful lustrous white and looked good with my hair. Mom and Dad had gotten us postcards of everywhere they'd been which was mostly different from where Grandpa and I had been, and my brother gave us all one of the collectable, limited edition enameled pins that had been sold out since the first day of competition. Then we had a delicious dinner that Grandpa had made and listened to his stories about the competitions and asked questions.

Then Mom and Dad started talking to Grandpa, and Starry and I were perforce left to each other. We were talking amiably when he wanted to see my other stuff. I was a little worried that he'd be jealous of my haul, but he didn't act like it. He was just interested in the stories about where we were when we found the things, and he loved the comforter. That I thought he might covet, despite having brought back the comforter on his Olympic bed. I understood, though, it was beautiful and soft and light. "What's the matter, Mom?" he asked as he saw her frowning at us. Well, me and the comforter, anyway. She didn't answer right away, so Grandpa spoke up.

"Janie found out that Delia has been buying her bedding and things for college. She had envisioned shopping for those things this summer with your sister."

"I'd anticipated that we would start shopping once she knew what school she'll be going to," Mom said. Starry looked puzzled.

"Did you tell her that? I don't remember you saying anything about it, but maybe I wasn't there."

Spots of red appeared on her cheeks. "I've always tried to get my children what they need," she said sharply. Starry and I passed a look back and forth, and for a moment it was like when we were kids and jointly decided to keep something to ourselves. After a rather pointed silence, I asked him something about it had felt to skate at the actual Olympics, and the other conversation resumed. It was a celebratory party for my pod brother and I didn't want to ruin it with mom's issues.

But sleeping dogs didn't lie for long. We'd left Grandpa's and I'd flipped it over my bed at the condo to admire the sheen of the fabric, deciding to take it to the cleaners, when she came into my room. She was a little agitated and asked to see the things I'd bought. I opened the closet door and gestured to the top shelf, where the two sets of sheets, the mattress cover and pad were stacked neatly in their cases, the blanket still folded around the cardboard insert, and the towels stacked next to that. I'd decided to do away with the bags because I'd wash everything right before I left and this way I could see them whenever I opened the door.

"I'm still surprised you started shopping so soon," she said, and suddenly I was tired of her attitude.

"You don't know me very well. You should have anticipated it," I said quietly. "I have told both you and Dad what college means to me. It's logical that I'd be preparing for it in advance."

Dark NightWhere stories live. Discover now