Free Comeback by Vicki Grant Page B

fact that neither of them knows the tune doesn’t bother him at all. They’re hollering at the top of their lungs like two kids at a campfire.
    It’s right then that I realize something.
    I know how I can fix this thing.
    I suddenly know how we can all be happy again.

Chapter Two
    It’s Dad’s face that does it. He’s got crow’s-feet around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth that are so dark you’d think they were drawn on with a Sharpie—but it’s still a kid’s face. There’s something twinkly about it. He always looks as if he can hardly wait to find out what’s coming next.
    Mom’s wrinkles go straight down her forehead, right between her eyes. You’d never call them laugh lines. They’re from frowning or worrying or trying really hard not to totally lose it.
    How did two people that different ever get together?
    I look at Dad. He’s holding his fist like a microphone and singing, “Ooh, baby, baby, yeah!” The sun makes his eyes look almost as blue as the car. He winks at me, as if I’m the girl he’s singing about.
    That’s when it hits me: Mom and Dad aren’t getting back together. The funny thing is, right then, it doesn’t even make me sad. It just kind of makes sense. It’s like what Colin said. “It’s not the end of the world.” In fact—it might even turn out to be best for everyone.
    All we have to do is tweak the plan a bit.
    Instead of Elliot and me moving into Mom’s new condo with her, we’ll move in with Dad.
    Just thinking that makes my mouth stretch into this big lotto-prizewinner grin. I clap my hands over my face. I feel guilty but really, really happy too.
    I throw my arms up in the air and let the wind bat them around. It’s the perfect solution. Dad can afford us. Mom can’t. He loves having us. She’s too tired after work to even notice us. We won’t have to leave our neighborhood. She can get as far away from it as she wants.
    There are a few details that we still have to work out, of course. Dad’s apartment is too small for all of us to live there, so we’d have to buy a new place. I’m not much of a housekeeper, so hopefully Manuela isn’t mad at Mom for firing her. If she came back to do the cleaning and help with Elliot after school, I could learn how to cook.
    I laugh.
    Who needs to cook? Dad never says no to going to a restaurant.
    In fact, right at this very moment, he’s steering Colin toward The Chicken Burger. I’m a little worried that we won’t get back in time for the next period, but Dad insists. “What’s the matter with you kids? You can’t cruise around in a 1962 convertible and not stop for malted milkshakes!”
    The Chicken Burger is packed—and everybody, it seems, wants to check out the LeSabre. While Dad chats them up, I reach over and squeeze Colin’s hand. He’s got gorgeous hands. Athlete’s hands. They’re big and sinewy, and I love the way the blond hairs stand out against his tan.
    I just thought of another thing that makes my new plan so great. Dad has much more liberal ideas about young love than Mom does.
    Colin doesn’t know that’s what I’m thinking, but he can see I’m happy, and that makes him happy too, which makes me even happier. I take a slurp of my milkshake. I don’t care that it’s got 80,000 empty calories. Everything is different now. Everything is going to be all right.
    We get back to school with only minutes to spare before the bell rings. I’m dying to talk to Dad right now about my plan, but there won’t be time. That’s okay. It can wait until tomorrow. Elliot and I are staying at his place this weekend. We’ll work it all out then.
    Tim/Tom gives Dad a man hug and heads into class. Colin goes to hand back the keys, but Dad pushes them away.
    â€œI’ll make you a deal, Moose. You can keep the