For my mom and dad, who told me I could do

anything as long as I brushed my hair.

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Other Titles

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright

Beep beep!

“Hey, kid, you want a lift?” Dad pulled up to the curb in a bright blue rental Explorer, and stuck his head out the window like an eager puppy. My brother, Jeremy, was in the back, staring out the opposite window. Kathy was in the passenger seat, a wide smile plastered across her face.

“Sure,” I said, throwing my duffel in the trunk. I was the last one out from the baggage carousel because they had thought my bag was missing. That’s kind of how I felt today, like a lost, limp bag, on my way to who knows where. I climbed in next to Jeremy.

“The fun starts now, kids!” said Dad. His eyes went back and forth between the two of us in the rearview mirror. They were so wide and hopeful, and I could see how important it was for him that this be true.

“Yippee!” said Kathy, clapping her hands.

Dad wound his way out of the Burlington, Vermont, airport and onto the open road. The mountains rose up around us, great snowy peaks etched against a lilac sky. It was already afternoon. The sun hung low, slowly sifting into fiery reds and oranges, spreading its warm glow over everything. It really was beautiful. Dad navigated us through the roads swiftly and smoothly. He was an excellent driver. So steady and calm. I always felt safe with him at the wheel.

“Ah, isn’t that breathtaking?” he sighed, reaching for Kathy’s hand out over the console.

“This is gonna be a total blast!” she said, leaning on his arm.

I wanted to tell her that nobody said “total blast” anymore. I think that went out soon after “gag me with a spoon.” But I kept my mouth shut and just sighed to myself.

I knew I was being a snot. I knew I should’ve been enjoying the view, feeling the rush of the clear Vermont air, losing myself in the majestic trees towering above us, draped in their dresses of snow. But I felt miserable, watching Dad and Kathy all snuggly in the front seat. Her shiny dark hair fell over her shoulders and she was oohing and aahing as Dad steered us through patches of trees, winding past sleepy villages with tall church steeples, lopsided wooden fences, and an old-fashioned pharmacy called Canfield Corners.

Dad and Kathy. Kathy and Dad.

How had we come here?

Well, we had just flown in from Florida, where Dad and Kathy got married.

Wait. Back up.

It started that night when Mom and Dad announced they were taking some time to “find themselves.” Dad was pacing around the dinner table with his hands in his back pockets. He wouldn’t sit still. Mom was pushing her lamb chop back and forth across the plate. Jeremy was chewing his Tater Tots — with his mouth open, of course. He always chewed with his mouth open even though he was two years older than me. Mom usually asked him to please close his mouth while he was eating. Dad did, too. But that night, nobody said anything about it.

“So, Mom and I have been talking and let me start this by saying that this came after some long and hard thought. We have really tried to make this work and we don’t know what to do right now except this. And I mean, it doesn’t feel right, but really nothing has felt right for a long time. For a long, long time. And so … well, we’ve decided to separate for a while. So, this is just for now. Or for — jeesh, I’m doing a lot of talking. Sarah, do you want to add anything?”

Mom shook her head. Her gray hair swished and then fell back into place and she tucked it behind her ears, but she wouldn’t look up from her plate.

“Do you have any questions for us? Jeremy? Samantha?” That’s me. Samantha. Samantha Iris Levy. Usually everybody calls me Sam, though. And when I’m talking to myself, I call myself Levy. I know, it’s kinda weird. But there you have it.

That was so long ago now. Four years ago, to be exact. Even though it felt like it was yesterday. Even though I could taste it in the back of my throat and feel it pulling my stomach into a tight knot. My hands were sweating and I felt like an overgrown marshmallow in my ski jacket.

It had all happened so fast after that.

Mom stayed in our house (in a little suburb in Westchester, New York), Dad moved about ten minutes away into Chatsworth Towers. His apartment was so small that he made us eggs for dinner and we had to eat them standing up. About a year later, Grandpa got sick, and Dad said he needed to go down to Florida to take care of him. It was supposed to be just for a little while. But the next thing we knew he was moving into his own place down in Orlando, and it had a screened-in porch and a bird feeder where he could see blue jays every morning. Jeremy and I went to visit for a weekend and the whole time Dad had his binoculars out, showing us the difference between the crested flycatcher and the purple martin.

Then he started working at Simmons & Cray as one of the chief financial officers. He said the work was very challenging, an easy commute, and did he mention that he rescued a tree swallow that had fallen out of a branch and that he had started seeing a wonderful woman named Kathy? She was a travel agent, and we would definitely like her because she was a Yankees fan and really into the outdoors and she had a cat named Annette. I tried to tell him that he didn’t like cats, but Dad just said, “I thought I didn’t. But this is different. Things are different now.”

I asked him when he was moving back, and he said the weather was always sunny, even in October, and then November, and then December.

December 27.

Dad and Kathy set the wedding date so that Jeremy and I could come down for winter break. We flew out on Christmas because Dad found a cheap flight, and besides it’s not like we were missing anything, because we’re Jewish. Kathy came with Dad to pick us up from the airport in her little red hatchback. Everything about Kathy was petite and perky. She had warm, caramel-colored skin and dark, sparkling eyes above her perfect, tiny nose. When we got out of the car at the condo, she came up to my shoulder.

The wedding was in a little Mexican restaurant in Orlando, because Kathy’s family is Mexican. They were married by a justice of the peace, and Dad had this big drooly grin on his face the whole time and then we had really bad Mexican food. The onions in the guacamole gave me a stomachache. The highlight was definitely Grandpa getting up to make a speech at the reception and saying, “You guys are all Mexican, right? So do any of you know what happened to that kid, Elian Gonzalez?”