Silk Song

Chapter Three

According to Casey, all older siblings are duty-bound to regale their younger kin with choruses of "I-told-you-so" as often and enthusiastically as circumstance permits. It was the soundtrack of my early years, Casey gloating every time I burnt my scrambled eggs or didn't have a raincoat to protect me from a freak downpour. When Peter came along, he was supposed to be my chance to turn the tables and finally sound like the "smart" one. But that would have required Peter being less Peter. That would require him being wrong on occasion. Case in point, the float looks frickin' awesome.

We don't have the budget for anything larger than a shipping pallet, but Hosei turns out to be handy with a drill gun and fixes on some wheels. After that, he retreats to the couch and cracks open a book about hauntings in the Victorian Era.

Tori focuses on costumes. She's a wizard with fabric, never looking up from her pile of patterns as she sews up everything from gala gowns to high-waist linen pants. She wanted to go with tuxedos for the boys, but Hosei insisted they'd be too hot for the Victoria Day Parade.

As for the rest of the float, it's all Peter. I mean, I'm there too, but mostly as support staff. First we build up the scaffolding for the float, using Hosei's collection of plywood. Why does Hosei collect plywood? Well, wouldn't it be nice if he answered questions like that. Over the skeleton, we drape layers of black fabric and poster board. Peter spray paints flecks of silver over the surface, so that it gradually resembles the crackled texture of mica in the pavement. Then come the stars, which we make by bending coat hangers with a pair of pliers. Peter stretches gold crepe paper over them and gives each a generous coat of Tori's glitter before I'm allowed to hot glue the finished stars to the float. It makes my heart ache to see Peter creating something so wonderful. He got his artistic flair from Mom.

I snap a pic of the ongoing preparations and text it to Casey with a caption: Can you believe this guy?????

I know better than to expect a reply, but that doesn't stop me from staring at the screen for five minutes afterwards, hoping. Since Mom's disappearance, Peter and I have clung to each other for life, but Casey's drifted further and further from the family. Dad still gets the occasional call, but on the whole, she's ignoring us. Maybe that's the easiest thing to do when you're away at university, but I'm not going to pretend I understand it. Dad says we all mourn in different ways, but one of the biggest surprises for me has been how selfish grief can be. Honestly, I'm as bad as Casey. I want my Mom back and I want my big sister to text me funny gifs again and I want those things for me more than anyone else.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes and for a euphoric second, I think Casey has actually cracked. I mean, it's a pic of Peter with a tube of glitter glue between his teeth. Who wouldn't be a sucker for that? But instead it's Jaclyn, my best friend besides Peter, and it's not just a text, but a full-on phone call. Peter is in the zone with his float, so I take a minute to step inside the kitchen and answer her.

"Hey, Jacks," I say.

"Where are you?" She sounds frantic and at that, I know I've forgotten something.

"Oh – um, at the Yoshida's."

"The Yoshida's? You mean you're at Hosei's?"

"It's a Film Club meeting." I meant to say that in the first place, but I was staring at a photo of a harlequin duck when she asked me.

"Film Club? Wren, seriously?" Jacks is a pretty understanding person, but right now she sounds annoyed. I know I'm going to be apologizing for something in a few seconds, I just wish I could remember what. "You promised you had this evening free. I even played the cousin-card to get Jamie here and now April's draped across his lap like a total hoe because you didn't show up for your own party! I taped a frickin' Jay's game for you!"