Part 16 (1/2)

Her mother let out a breath that puffed the hair over her forehead. Then she said, In my opinion, Jin-Ho, the doll Susan has that's nicest is her little Kurdish doll. You know that doll on her bureau, the one with the long red veil?

But the Kurdish doll doesn't have any ack-sessories, Jin-Ho said.

Don't forget to wash behind your ears, her mother told her. Then she stood up and went over to flick the light switch. She'd been doing that all day. Nothing happened, though.

While they were toweling off, Jin-Ho's mother talked some more about the party. She said, The present will be on the hearth, XiuMei, because the Binky Fairy comes down the chimney just like Santa Claus. And everybody will gather around to watch you open it. Grandpa, Uncle Abe, Uncle Mac perhaps, the Yazdans ... and Lucy is coming, too! Your friend Lucy will be here!

Is Lucy have her binky? Xiu-Mei asked.

Her mother said, Oh. Then she said, Well, maybe she will. But that's because Lucy's younger than you. She's a whole month younger! Practically a baby still! I bet when she sees your present she'll say, 'I'm going to give up my binky, too.'

Xiu-Mei set her front teeth together hard. Her binky made a sound like a door squeaking.

By the time they came downstairs again, all the balloons were filled and floating up under the living-room ceiling with their long tails hanging straight down and pink, blue, and yellow binkies tied to their ends. Xiu-Mei must have thought it was a dream come true, because she started running around the room with both hands reaching up for them. Some she could touch and set swinging, but most she wasn't quite tall enough for. Her mother said, Won't they look pretty going up in the sky? Xiu-Mei didn't answer.

While Jin-Ho's mother frosted cupcakes in the kitchen, Jin-Ho and her grandpa went out in his car to fetch lunch from the deli. Somehow Jin-Ho had managed to forget about the hurricane, and it was a shock to see all that had happened the torn-off branches everywhere, ragged white shreddy wood showing on the tree trunks, and here and there a sheet of blue plastic covering a broken roof. Twice they had to go a different way because a street was closed. Almost none of the traffic signals worked; so they drove through intersections extra slowly, her grandpa looking both ways and whistling no particular tune the way he always did when he was concentrating on something. The dead lights reminded Jin-Ho of a doll's poked-out eyesjust that hollow and blank-looking. It was almost as hot as summer, and the men sawing the trees were sweating through their s.h.i.+rts.

Your mother has really, really creative ideas, doesn't she, her grandpa said. I know sometimes it might seem she goes a little too far, but at least she's . . . invested. Interested. You have to admit she cares deeply, right?

Jin-Ho said, Mmhmm. She was looking at a tree that had fallen over in perfect shape, as if someone had just laid it gently on its side. She wondered if it could be planted back in its hole the way Brian at school had his tooth planted back after he knocked it out jumping off the jungle gym. His mother had put the tooth in milk and brought it with them to the dentist. How did mothers know these things?

By the time they got home again, everything was ready in the dining room a flowered tablecloth on the table and platters of cupcakes and cookies and bowls of mints the same pale colors as the binkies. They had their lunch in the kitchen. Jin-Ho's mother barely ate because she was worried about the weather forecast. It was supposed to start raining again. She kept looking out at the sky, which was a pure, bright blue, and asking everybody how they could expect to send up balloons in a downpour. Jin-Ho's father told her not to trouble trouble till trouble troubled her. It was one of his favorite sayings.

After lunch Xiu-Mei took her nap, and Jin-Ho and her mother got dressed for the party. Jin-Ho put on a red T-s.h.i.+rt and her new embroidered jeans and then she walked into her mother's room and checked her mother's face. She knew that embroidered jeans weren't very Korean. But her mother just said, You look nice, sweetheart, with no sign of disappointment. And she dressed Xiu-Mei in jeans, too, when Xiu-Mei woke up; so it must have been all right.

Xiu-Mei didn't sleep nearly long enough. Maybe she was excited about the party. Or else upset. And she wouldn't take her after-nap sippy cup of juice but sat in a bundle on a kitchen chair, looking squinty and cross, and sucked her pacifier.

The first guests were the Yazdans. That was because they were in charge of the drinks. Sami and Ziba were lugging a Styrofoam cooler between them, and everyone went down to the street so that Jin-Ho's father could take Ziba's end away from her. This morning our lights flickered, Ziba said, and I thought, Oh, no! What if our fridge dies? But it was only for a moment.

She was wearing bellbottom jeans and a black knit top that showed part of her stomach. She looked very beautiful. Her ponytail stuck out straight behind her head like an enormous bunch of grapes, that same kind of purplish black.

Suppose the adoption people discovered they'd made a mistake. They'd handed the babies out to the wrong mothers. They would say they were very sorry but the girls would have to be switched back. Jin-Ho would get Ziba, and Susan would get Bitsy in her sleeveless sack dress and her sandals that showed the k.n.o.bs on her toes.

Wouldn't it be terrible if mothers could read people's minds. Jin-Ho had hoped Susan would bring her American Girl doll, but she didn't. Susan didn't seem to like dolls, actually. What a waste. Instead she whipped a yo-yo out of her pocket that must be what they played with at private school and spun it snappily up and down as she walked. Meanwhile, Jin-Ho's mother was telling Ziba about her frozen foods. It's like the stages of mourning, she said. Denial the first day: maybe the power will come back on before any damage is done. And then grief the second day. You sink into a slough of despair and mentally say goodbye to all your ca.s.seroles.

I have a friend coming, Jin-Ho told Susan.

Susan said, So?

Her name is Athena, and me and her play on the sliding board every recess.

But Jin-Ho's mother jumped in to say, She's not as old a friend as you are, though, Susan! You and Jin-Ho go way back!

She had this knack for listening to two conversations at once. Why, maybe even your mothers go back! she said. Maybe your biological mothers were best girlfriends in Korea.

Jin-Ho was very careful not to let her eyes meet Susan's.

Wouldn't you know it, when Athena arrived stepping from her parents' car just as the rest of them were heading into the house she turned out to be the type that lost her voice around grownups. She stopped short when she saw them all and she stuck a finger in her mouth. Jin-Ho called, Athena! Hey! but Athena only stood there, wearing a frilly white dress and holding a wrapped gift.

Go and welcome her, Jin-Ho's mother whispered.

So Jin-Ho went down the front steps calling, Come on! Come on! in an encouraging way, and Athena started toward her inch by inch. When they were even with each other she pushed the gift into Jin-Ho's hands. It was some kind of book, Jin-Ho could tell through the wrapping. She said, Thanks, but Athena said, It's for your sister, which made Jin-Ho feel stupid. She said, I knew that. Then she led Athena toward the others.

Jin-Ho's mother did the introducing. She bounced Xiu-Mei on her hip and said, Athena, this is Jin-Ho's oldest friend, Susan Yazdan. And Susan's parents, Sami and Ziba, and Jin-Ho's grandpa, Dave...

Athena put her finger back in her mouth. She wore eentsy colored beads threaded on braids all over her head and another bead in each ear, gold. Jin-Ho had been wanting pierced ears for ages, but her mother was making her wait until she was sixteen.

It was awkward sitting in the living room because of the balloons. Somehow no one had thought of that. With all those strings hanging down, the ceiling seemed to be raining. The grownups had to duck their heads in order to talk to each other across the room, which made them have poor posture. Then Uncle Abe walked in without knocking and said, Whoa, what is this: a jungle? and Jin-Ho's mother said, Oh, all right, let's move to the dining room. Athena, these are Jin-Ho's cousins, Deirdre, Bridget, Polly ...

In the dining room it was awkward too, though, because once the grownups had found chairs, why, there they were, sitting at the table like people expecting a meal, but the only things on the table were the platters of desserts that were meant to be pa.s.sed around later. Maybe I should bring out some plates, Jin-Ho's mother said. Or ... wait! The drinks! Where'd we put the drinks? Then she got the giggles. She did that sometimes. She told Ziba, Inventing a new tradition is not as easy as you might think.

Ziba said, I'll get the drinks. You sit still. Because Jin-Ho's mother had Xiu-Mei on her lap.

Thank you, Ziba, Jin-Ho's mother said, and then she turned to Aunt Jeannine. Someone is a little C-L-I-N-G-Y today, she said. But I guess that's to be expected.

Aunt Jeannine said, Xiu-Mei, what's that in your mouth? Is that a binky I see?

It's the one last holdout, Jin-Ho's mother explained. When everybody gets here we're going to tie it to the last balloon and send it up, up, up . . . She seemed to be talking now to Xiu-Mei, but Xiu-Mei only frowned and chomped down on her binky.

Give her the present, Athena told Jin-Ho. They had managed to sit on the window seat next to Polly, who wore almost-black lipstick and six earrings in each ear, not a one of them matching any of the others. Jin-Ho slid to the floor and walked over to hand Athena's present to Xiu-Mei, and while Xiu-Mei was ripping gift paper the Copelands walked in. Mercy Copeland said, Sorry! But it doesn't seem your doorbell works. She was carrying Lucy, who of course the grownups had to make a fuss about. Lucy was so cute that Jin-Ho just wanted to bite her. Her cheeks were round and soft and her eyes were as blue as flowers and her hair was full of a million yellow curls that made people say, What an angel child! In fact she was a whole lot cuter than Xiu-Mei, who had straight black hair and slit eyes. Also, even though Lucy had brought her binky it was just dangling from her neck on a ribbon a clear plastic binky with colored polka dots inside the plastic, a really fancy kind that Jin-Ho hadn't seen before. So Lucy's mouth wasn't all plugged up the way Xiu-Mei's was. She had a cute, pink, pursy mouth, very small. She was holding a square box wrapped in striped paper, and as soon as her mother put her down she toddled over and set the box in Xiu-Mei's lap. Aww, everybody said, but Xiu-Mei seemed more interested in the polka-dot binky. She leaned forward and reached for it but Lucy was already heading back to her mother. Why, thank you, Lucy, Jin-Ho's mother said, and then, Thank you, Ziba, because Ziba was setting the Yazdans' present on the table in front of her. (The Yazdans always, always brought presents, for every possible occasion. It was one of the best things about them.) Does everybody know each other? Jin-Ho's mother asked, and when no one spoke she said, Wonderful. Now, I think we should do the balloons first thing, don't you all agree? And get it over with.

Sort of like ripping off a Band-Aid, Jin-Ho's grandpa said. Right. So you bring that last balloon, Brad, and Xiu-Mei, you give me your binky...

She didn't wait for Xiu-Mei to give it to her, though. She just plucked it out of Xiu-Mei's mouth. Xiu-Mei's mouth stayed in a damp, surprised O shape and she looked around the room as if she wondered what had just happened. Here we go, her mother said, tying the binky to the balloon. It was a red balloon with white stars on it. The last, last one, her mother said in a sort of singsong. Ready, everybody? Everybody get some balloons from the living room, two or three apiece, and we'll go outdoors and let them fly off.

She stood up, setting Xiu-Mei on her hip again, and led the way to the living room. Xiu-Mei's mouth was still in an O shape. Jin-Ho kept expecting her to let out a howl but it seemed she was too surprised.

We fly the balloons? Athena asked Jin-Ho.

Jin-Ho said, Yup.

I want to bring mine home with me.

You can't, Susan said from her other side. You've got to let them go.

Other parties, you're allowed to bring them home.

Not when they have binkies on them, silly, Susan said. Athena blinked.

They went into the living room and chose three balloons apiece. Susan said, I'm taking all pink, which Jin-Ho didn't understand at first because the balloons were either red or white or blue, some with stars or stripes or with both, as if they might have been left over from the Fourth of July. Then she saw that Susan was talking about the color of the binkies. Jin-Ho herself had two blue binkies and one yellow. The yellow happened to be the binky that looked like a sideways 8, and that made her sad, a little, because she had a very clear picture in her head of Xiu-Mei sucking on it.

They all went back through the dining room, through the kitchen, out the back door, and down the porch steps. Mercy Copeland said, Oh! What a shame! She was looking toward the elm that had fallen across the garage front.

Yes, it broke our hearts, Jin-Ho's mother said. Not to mention we can't get my car out, or the patio furniture.

She was holding just one balloon, the last one with the white stars. Xiu-Mei wasn't holding any. Didn't she say she'd have six? She was sitting astride her mother's hip with her lower lip kind of pooched.

All right, everybody! Jin-Ho's mother called. Ready, set, go!

All the balloons floated upward. They went at different speeds, though, and some didn't go very far. One of Jin-Ho's balloons snagged on the fallen elm. One of Susan's landed in the Sansoms' hedge. But a lot of the others made it, and in a minute you couldn't see the binkies anymore but just the balloons they were strung to, like little red, white, and blue thumbtacks stuck to the perfect sky. Jin-Ho's mother had been right: they did look pretty.