“I make money every day, but I never had anyone to spend it on.”
“Pixie doesn’t want your money.”
“No, but she can still have it.”
Blocking my entry into the house, Fairuza studies me. “I want to see you like Pixie does, but I’m afraid I’ll make a mistake. I don’t trust myself any longer.”
“In a month, your children will be stronger, and this house will make sense. Then, you’ll know whether you should like me. Until then, why worry?”
Fairuza offers me a smile she often gives her kids. There’s warmth and pride in her eyes that I could get real used to seeing.
PART 5: AIN’T NO PARTY LIKE A WOODLANDS PARTY
PIXIE
Anders nearly breaks his SUV, trying to get the baby seat to fit. I’ve never heard him cuss so much, even when the Volkshalberd shot at him. I finally insist we put the seat in the trunk area, and Mama will hold Future during the short drive.
“You’re wasting minutes of your life on an uninteresting problem,” I say, hugging him and gesturing for Dove to steal away the troublesome seat.
His hand strokes the back of my head. Each caress frees him of more tension. Eventually, we pile into the black SUV and back out of its special room. The drive to Bronco’s house takes less than two minutes. I think to ask why Anders worried so much over the seat, but upsetting him again isn’t an option. We need to survive today with all his people. Then, we can enjoy tomorrow with only our people.
The front of Bronco’s brick house looks very similar to Anders’s. I remember Lana saying the two homes were like twins. Inside is even more identical with the overhead walkway and two-story family room. Almost everything is placed in the same way. I notice how Bronco hung up pictures of his family. I like that more than Anders’s blank walls.
Lana introduces Dove to Bronco’s teenage daughter, Summer, along with his two younger girls, Sidonie and Desi. I’m a little confused about which ones are Bronco’s, which belong to Lana, and which they had together. I decide blood doesn’t matter. Future doesn’t warm my heart any differently than Dove, despite them having different papas.
“Want to go to my room and talk?” Summer awkwardly asks Dove.
My sister doesn’t want to go to Summer’s room and talk. She’s very nervous about making a bad impression with these people and getting sent back to the Village. I keep promising that won’t happen, yet my words fall on deaf ears.
Dove agrees after she glances at Anders. She wants to please him so he’ll keep us as his house. Though he’s frowning now, I suspect he’s mostly still irritated about the car seat.
“Can the baby play?” Desi asks, kneeling down and smiling at Future.
My brother stares at the walkway after noticing the lack of a gate to keep him from climbing the stairs.
“Up?” he asks her.
“I thought outside on the playset,” Desi says and then asks Lana, “Can we go upstairs?”
“No,” Mama says instantly. “He’ll just run back and forth and then fall down the stairs. Let’s do the playset thing.”
Future stares longingly at the walkway, much like Dove does with the pool. Once Mama follows Desi and Sidonie outside with Future on her hip, I notice Topanga watching me. She smiles with her big lips. Lana stands nearby with her baby. I don’t know where Anders, Bronco, and Lowell went.
“Don’t take this wrong,” Topanga says, “but you dress all wrong. It’s not your fault. The donated clothes don’t fit your body or suit your coloring.”
“There’s nothing wrong with them,” I mutter and tug at the baggy shorts. “They cover the important parts.”
“Clothes are meant to emphasize your best features and hide your less flattering ones.”
“Are you saying I have to change before that dumb party?”
“Our parties aren’t dumb,” Topanga explains. “They’re inconvenient and, at times, boring, but never dumb. See the difference, Pixie?”
I haven’t figured out yet if I like Topanga. She’s nice, but I also sense she’s making fun of me. Mainly because she speaks as if I’m Dove’s age when I’m an adult like her. I don’t want these people thinking Anders is having sexual intercourse with a little kid.
“Will those women from yesterday be at the party?” I ask, frowning at her and then Lana.
“Yes.”
“Will they dress better than they did at Anders’s house?”
Making a pig-snorting noise, Topanga smiles at a grinning Lana. “No, they’ll probably look just awful, but you’re not them. They chose