The Opposite Of Tidy (24 page)

Junie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. “Wade,” Tabitha said.

“Who very well may not be interested in participating in this adventure,” added Mrs. D. “And the same might be said for Junie, and Tabitha, too.”

“I sense drama here.” Charlie churned her hands in front of her. “We like drama. Drama makes great television.”

But Junie didn’t want her drama televised. She didn’t want her drama at all, and she certainly didn’t want to offer it to the millions of people who were devoted fans of
The Kendra Show
. “So what if I say I don’t want to do this?”

Junie’s mother blanched. “But they want you in the show, Junie.”

Mrs. D. put a protective arm across Junie’s shoulders. “Marla, Junie is going to have to make that choice for herself. She has to want to do this. You can’t force her.”

“But I don’t have to force you, do I, Junie?”

Junie glanced at Mrs. D. At Kendra. At her mother. Her mother was the odd one out, of course. She was wearing another one of her colour-coordinated sweatsuits, red this time, with tartan Scotty dogs marching down the sleeves. What was Junie supposed to say? She glanced at Bob, too. He had the camera pointed right at her.

“I don’t know.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Charlie waved her hands. “No kid, no deal, Kendra. Come on. That’s the heartstringtugger, and you know it.”

“Give them a minute,” Kendra said with a confident nod. “Let Junie make up her mind. We can go. We can clear out right now if that’s what she wants. This is her home too.”

Mrs. D. let out a scoff. “So, in essence, you’re blackmailing her to be involved.”

“No, no.” Kendra shook her head. “Not at all. But we do want Junie in the show. She’s the reason why we picked Marla’s story over the other ones. Because she has a child. Who is old enough to understand the impact. The
daily impact. Of all of this.” She swept an arm, indicating everything in the room.

As much as Junie didn’t want her very private mess aired on international television, she also didn’t want them to just leave. Her mother would never forgive her. And she might not forgive herself. What if this was her mom’s only chance?

“I’ll do it.” Junie felt the familiar pressure of tears pushing behind her eyes.

“Good to hear, honey.” Kendra patted her arm. “Good to hear.”

Junie’s skin crawled and her eyes pounded. She pressed her fingers against them and tried to stop it, but it was no use. Junie choked back a sob and fled, heading for the sanctuary of her bedroom.

“Where you going?” Charlie hollered after her. “You better not think you can just agree and then disappear, kid!”

Behind her, she heard Mrs. D. growl, “Don’t push it, Ms. Falconetti.”

And then Charlie replied with a barking laugh, “Give me a few more minutes and you’ll see that I’m all push all the time!”

Junie locked the door, flung herself on her bed and wept until she heard someone on the stairs. Tabitha knocked their secret knock and Junie let her in. Without a word, the two girls lay side by side on Junie’s bed as it grew dark and Junie cried, with her stereo on a classic rock station so that The Beatles and The Rolling Stones drowned out the
commotion downstairs. When Junie stopped crying, they still didn’t talk. They just lay there with their arms behind their heads, staring at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers they’d put up in the shape of constellations ages ago.

“I think we were ten,” Tabitha finally said. “When we put up those stars. Remember?”

Junie did. They’d bought six packages of star stickers at the Science World gift shop after spending a Saturday morning there with Mrs. D. Junie’s father had brought up the step-ladder from the garage, and she and Tabitha had carefully stuck each one up there, checking the astronomy books they’d gotten out of the library. And then they’d carried the ladder down the street and done the same to Tabitha’s ceiling. But that’s where the similarities between the two girls’ bedrooms ended. While Junie’s was always as neat as it could possibly be, Tabitha’s was more like a normal teenager’s room, with laundry on the floor and sometimes a few dirty dishes perched on her desk, her bed strewn with the sheets and duvet she hadn’t bothered to straighten.

“Let’s trade,” Junie said. “I’ll be you and you be me. Just one week.”

Tabitha pushed herself up onto her elbows. “It won’t be as bad as you think. It can’t be.”

“In this case, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, you and your mom got into this mess. Now’s your chance to get out.”

“Me? What did I ever do?”

“What did you ever do?” Tabitha stared at her, eyes wide. “It’s what you
didn’t
do. You didn’t let anyone in. You
didn’t tell anyone what was really going on. You kept all those secrets. You lied. And sure, this mess is mostly your mom’s fault, but some of it is your dad’s fault for giving up, and your fault, too.”

“Ouch.”

“You’ve been letting her get away with it! Keeping secrets. Covering for her.” Tabitha sat upright now, pointing at Junie. “You, and me, and my mom, and your dad and even That Woman have been enabling her. Making it worse. We all should’ve put a stop to it sooner. Gotten her real help.”

“But now we’ve got Kendra.” Junie pulled a pillow over her head and groaned. “And now my mother will be world famous as a compulsive hoarder whose house smells like shit.”

“Junie.” Tabitha tapped the pillow. “Just think. When this is all over, your mother will be normal. And your house will be normal.”

“But everyone will know me as the daughter of the compulsive hoarder whose house smelled like shit. Tell me I’m wrong. Am I wrong?”

There was a long pause before Tabitha answered. “That won’t last forever.”

“See?” Junie flung the pillow to the floor. “You agree! That’s how everyone will see me!”

“I’ll admit it’s possible,” Tabitha allowed. “And that that part will suck. But it’s going to be better in the long run. And that’s what’s important, right?”

Junie nodded. She could only hope so. She could only desperately hope so.

Kendra had left not long after Junie stormed upstairs. Charlie stayed behind with the film crew until Mrs. D. kicked them out at around nine o’clock and then went home herself, dragging Tabitha with her. Junie stayed up in her room. She thought her mother would come up to check in on her, but she didn’t. She thought her father must have heard and would call or come over, but he didn’t. Well, Junie couldn’t be bothered to go check on her mom if she couldn’t be bothered to check on her, and the same went for her father, so she just crawled under the covers and went to sleep. Blissful, blank, deep sleep.

Hunger woke her up well after dawn, thankfully. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything since that couple of bites of sandwich the afternoon before. She had a shower, got dressed and went downstairs.

The house looked exactly the same as it always had. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she’d thought for sure it should be different somehow, even just by virtue of Kendra having been there. But all the junk was still piled high, the stacks of boxes full of useless stuff still teetered dangerously, and the funk of crap still permeated from the basement. What good was Kendra if she couldn’t fix things magically? On her show everything happened so fast, neatly solved by the end of the hour, the “before” shots surrendering to the “after” shots with plenty of time left over for Kendra to do her end-of-show “life moment” spiel as the credits rolled. But in real life things went a lot slower.
Of course they did. Junie knew this logically, but clearly, her inner kindergartner had been hoping for a magic-wand effect. Kendra was no fairy godmother, despite her loyal following. She was more a master puppeteer. And of course her show was edited, Junie told herself. She was stupid to think things could change overnight. This would take time. A lot of time.

Junie checked the refrigerator—nothing but a cucumber and bottles and jars of condiments and some coffee cream. And a couple of apples in the crisper. Junie’s stomach growled as she helped herself to the fruit.

Junie wondered what would become of the old fridge, the one her mother had abandoned, full to nearly bursting with rotting food. Neither she nor her mother had dared open its door since the new fridge came, about a year ago. Junie imagined that the best thing would be to duct-tape it shut for all eternity, and roll it out the front door and straight into one of the bins. She didn’t want anyone to find out what was inside—a refrigerated year-old science experiment gone wrong. Disgusting.

Junie went into the living room and peeked outside. It was just seven now, so there were only two media vans, and no spectators. Yet. Kendra’s trucks were still there, or there again, and her crew of mostly men wandered around laying out cables and checking equipment and drinking steaming coffee from paper cups. Coffee that they’d got from the catering truck, which was what Junie had been hoping to see.

She pulled on a coat and went outside, where Bob hollered good morning and waved her over to where he was
fiddling with his camera, which was in pieces on a folding table beside the camera truck.

“You’re up early,” he said as she wandered over. His words made clouds in the cold spring morning. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, actually. Surprisingly.” Junie gestured at the bustle happening around them. “Were you guys here all night?”

“Nope.” Bob wiped the camera lens with a special cloth. Junie thought of Wade, and how he did the same. With the same kind of blue cloth. There was no doubt at all that he still wouldn’t want to talk to her this morning. A simple “sleep on it” was not going to suffice in this instance.

“We’re at the Sheraton downtown,” Bob said. “Nice place. Big pool. Has a slide.”

Junie laughed at the thought of Bob going down a water slide with his great big belly—hairy more than likely— spilling over his shorts and his beard flung over his shoulder.

“What?” Bob gave her a wink. “Can’t picture me in my Speedo?”

Junie laughed again.

“You’re in better spirits this morning.” Bob glanced at the driveway as a black SUV pulled up. “Oh, that’ll be the Falcon. Gotta look busy.”

Charlie hopped out of the passenger side, wearing great big sunglasses that made her look like an insect. Her hair was in one of those expensive-looking ponytails, with a chunk of long bangs angling neatly across her face.

“Good morning, my little minions!” She minced across the lawn in her high heels. “Where the hell are the
Got Junk guys?” She flung her arms open, a large travel mug in one hand, her phone in the other. “They were supposed to be here seven minutes ago!” She made her way to a trailer at the top of the driveway and disappeared inside after hollering hello to Junie and Bob as she passed. After a minute she opened the door and leaned out to add, “I want you to go to school today, okay? We’re going to go with you. Film some footage. I’ve already got the okay from your principal. And that Tabitha’s rabid mother already looked over the contract, so don’t try to get out of it. Awesome, Junie, thanks.”

“What? No way,” Junie protested, but Charlie had ducked back inside, the door slamming behind her. She addressed Bob instead. “No friggin’ way in hell are you guys coming to my school.”

“Oh yes we are.”

“Oh hell no you are not.”

Bob gave her another wink. “You’ll live.”

“No, actually. I won’t. Because I’ll see to it that I jump off the bridge. Mid-span, where it’s highest. At night, so no one will see. Then you can have the pleasure of knowing that it’s your fault that I committed suicide.” Junie wasn’t hungry any more, but she didn’t want to talk to Bob any more either, so she headed for the catering truck.

“Bring me back a cinnamon bun, will ya?” Bob called after her. “Before you jump off the bridge.”