Keys to the City Read online

  Sometimes I get a little bit jealous of Davis because he’s their biological child. But Mom always tells me if she could choose any daughter in the world, one with their blood or not, they’d choose me every single time.

  One time I had said, “But if you chose Taylor Swift, you’d be rich.”

  She’d laughed. “Melinda Jia Mackay, you think I’d rather be rich than have you as a daughter? What kind of shallow human being do you think I am?” She’d pulled me into her arms then. “I don’t want Taylor Swift or anyone else. I want you. Always remember that.”

  The thing is, I think she really means it, so I guess I have nothing to be upset about. It’d sure be nice if some people wouldn’t look at us funny when we’re all out together, though. It’s like they forget a family doesn’t have to look a certain way.

  “Shall we all go up?” Mom asked. “I’ll see what I can do to help Dad with dinner. Lindy, can you set the table, please?”

  “Sure,” I said as I started up the staircase with Mom and Davis trailing behind me. “But can I change first?”

  “As long as you don’t change into a shark,” Davis said. “Hard to set the table with only fins.”

  Clearly, Nora was wrong. Davis should be a comedian, not me. “I just want to change out of these nice clothes, weirdo.”

  “Hey, now,” Mom said. “No name-calling. And yes, honey, you may change.”

  When we reached our apartment at last (most beautiful old brownstones don’t have elevators), we went our separate ways. I went into my room and shut the door. The blue-and-yellow combination I’d chosen still made me smile. My bed looked so soft, so inviting, I had to resist the urge to lie down and snuggle up with a book. I slipped my notebook and pen out of my pocket before I tossed my jacket onto the bed. Then I went over to the window with its built-in window seat and sat down.

  I loved this time of year, when the sun stayed out a long time. Before the HAT project, it felt like the summer had been laid out so nicely, like tea and scones at one of my favorite restaurants, Alice’s Tea Cup. The inn was finished, we were all moved in, and so I’d imagined lots of fun times with my family and friends, and time by myself to read and write. But now? How was I supposed to figure out what I’m naturally talented at doing anyway? Some kids could look to their parents and get some hints. Like, hey, my dad is good at basketball, maybe I am, too. But that wouldn’t work for me. I didn’t know anything about my birth parents, although I sometimes wondered about them.

  With a big sigh, I leaned back into the pillows and opened my notebook. I knew it wouldn’t do any good to sit there and worry. So I decided to work on a story I’d started a few weeks ago.

  A man went shopping for a flower bouquet to give to his mother for her birthday. Since the supermarket was close to his home, he went there, figuring it would be easiest. But when he got there, he discovered all the flower bouquets were the same.

  Red roses, pink carnations, and white lilies.

  He went to the clerk and said, “Don’t you have anything else? My mother doesn’t like carnations. Her favorite flower is the Gerber daisy. I was hoping for a bouquet of those.”

  She shrugged. “That’s all we have. Can’t you just pick the carnations out if she doesn’t like them?”

  “I guess I wanted something different,” he said. “Something special. Why do you make only one bouquet, anyway?”

  “It’s easiest.”

  “But it’s boring,” the man said. “What if the bakery only sold one type of cake? What if the library only carried one type of book? What if—”

  “Okay, okay,” the clerk said. “I get your point. Look, I’ll make your mother a bouquet with lots of roses and no carnations. How’s that sound?”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m going somewhere else. Like I said, I want a bouquet that is special. Because my mother is very, very special.”

  The clerk told him, “She’s lucky to have you as a son.”

  “She never got married but wanted a son. She adopted me and raised me all by herself. Maybe our family doesn’t look like most families, but it doesn’t matter. She is my family, and I am hers. And a bouquet of daisies is still a lovely bouquet even if there isn’t a rose in the bunch. See what I mean?”

  “I suppose I do,” the clerk said. Then he watched as she opened a notebook that said Flower Farms.

  Maybe next time there will be a lot more flowers to choose from, he thought to himself.

  And even though the man left the store without any flowers, he did leave with a smile on his face.

  There was a gentle knock at my door before it opened. “Lindy? It’s been over twenty minutes. Can you please come set the table?”

  I stashed my notebook underneath the cushion and jumped up. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

  Over dinner, Mom and Dad talked about the grand opening scheduled for next weekend. They’d managed to get a reporter to run a small article in the New York Times, which they were both really excited about. Dad said news coverage was the best way to get the word out. Mom had also contacted some of the local television stations, but so far no one had gotten back to her.

  “There’s still time,” she said. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “What happens at the grand opening?” Davis asked. “And can I have more roast, please?”

  Mom passed the plate to him. “It’s basically an open house. People will come in and take a look around. Your dad and I will give short tours, but people can also walk around on their own. We’ll have drinks and food for everyone. And we’ll hand out promotional pieces that give them a discount on a first booking.”

  “People won’t come into our apartment, though, right?” I asked.

  “That’s correct,” Dad said. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. This apartment is our home and is completely separate from the inn.”

  “So Lindy and I can just stay up here and watch TV or whatever?” Davis asked before he shoved a big piece of meat into his mouth.

  “Or do your homework,” Dad replied.

  Before Davis could object, Mom smiled and said, “School’s out on Friday, remember?”

  Dad sat back in his chair and smiled, too. “Ah, that’s right.” He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he turned to Mom. “What are these kids going to do all summer long? You’ll be busy with the inn and guests. Hopefully. I’m not taking time off from the firm until August.”

  “They’re both signed up for some camps,” Mom said. “We’ll do some fun things around the city together when time permits. And beyond that, I’m counting on them to be resourceful and find things to occupy themselves.”

  “We do have friends, Dad,” I said as I reached for another piece of bread. “Remember when you were a kid and spent the summer hanging out with friends? Or has your old brain forgotten what that was like?”

  “Ouch,” Dad said as he put his glasses back on. “And you know I’m not that old, right?”

  I smiled. “I know. I was just joking.”

  “That reminds me,” Mom said. “We probably need to have a discussion about whether we’re ready for Lindy to ride the subway by herself. With most of her friends living in Brooklyn right now, I’m guessing she’s going to be wanting to go there quite a bit.”

  Since we’d moved, Mom had hired a part-time nanny, an older, retired woman, to ride with Davis and me to and from school every day, since we still went to school in Brooklyn. I had told her we’d be fine by ourselves, but she’d said Dad didn’t want us to do that yet.

  “As I’ve said before, I feel pretty strongly that she should be thirteen,” Dad said.

  I’d turn thirteen on August 14. “But that’s only a couple of months away.”

  “Yes,” he said as he reached for more potatoes and carrots. “Which means we better get busy teaching you all the things you need to know in order to ride by yourself.”

  I looked at him, confused. “What kind of things?”

  “Things that involve
your safety,” he replied. “What to do in different scenarios that might arise.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “But I have a cell phone. And I know more than you probably think I do.”

  “Still, there is no such thing as being too safe,” Dad said. “I think, for now, there’ll be no riding without an adult. Julie, can you check and see if Frannie is available this summer to help with getting them to and from camps?”

  Davis groaned. “Really? More time with Frannie the nanny? And just so you know, I don’t think that’s her real name. I think she made it up so it’d rhyme.”

  While they discussed whether someone would be silly enough to pick a name that rhymes with their job (Sawyer the lawyer, anyone?), I thought about what it all meant for me. I had imagined lots of freedom over the summer. Instead, I’d be tied to the B&B like a flag to a pole. But it’d be even worse because at least a flag gets to fly.

  There once was a nanny named Frannie.

  Nope.

  Not doing it.

  Not. Doing. It!!

  You imagine monsters.

  I imagine unicorns.

  You imagine burnt toast.

  I imagine blueberry muffins.

  You imagine a thunderstorm.

  I imagine a rainbow.

  I think I feel sorry for you.

  Monday after school, Frannie watched from the sidewalk as I let Davis and myself into the inn. She had a key, too, but didn’t need to come inside with us today. Outside of the library sat a big box of books. I got excited until I quickly thumbed through them and saw there weren’t any specifically for kids.

  “Someone’s here,” Davis said as he dropped his backpack on the shiny hardwood floor. There were voices coming from the dining room. “Come on. Let’s go see who it is.”

  “There they are,” Mom said when she saw us. “Vivian was kind enough to drop off some books for our library. I was telling her you’d be home any minute. She wanted to say hello. Come and take a seat. I’ll run upstairs and get you two a snack.”

  Vivian is a neighbor we met last year, when Mom and Dad first bought the B&B, before the renovations started. She lives in an apartment in the building next door and took the time to come over and say hello one day when Mom and Dad were meeting with the contractor. She even brought us homemade snickerdoodles. We all liked her right away, and not because of the cookies. Well, that’s probably why Davis liked her. But she’s one of those people who has a way of making you feel calm and relaxed, no matter what’s going on, just by being around her.

  She’s an older woman with short brown hair who wears her reading glasses on a pretty beaded chain. My mother had commented on it the first time we met her and Vivian had told us, “Some of the beads are ocean jasper, which is believed to bring strength and renewal by eliminating stress. It is a stone of joy.”

  I’d thought to myself, Maybe that’s why she is the picture of calm.

  She went on to explain that since she’s retired, she enjoys making jewelry during the winter, when she can’t get outside as much. Being retired sounds so fun. You can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, and there’s not a single school project to worry about.

  Now Vivian sat at the end of one of the dining tables with a glass of iced tea in front of her. “How was school today?” she asked. “Learn anything exciting you’d care to share?”

  “I learned that fractions are still not my friend,” Davis said as he plopped into a chair next to Vivian.

  “Ah, yes, the dreaded fractions,” Vivian replied with a wink. “Don’t fight them too hard and eventually they’ll come around. You’ll see. And what about you, Lindy?”

  I set my messenger bag on the floor and pulled up a chair across from her. “I learned I am dreading our summer project more than ever. Our homeroom teacher gave us some time to brainstorm for the HAT project. You know, to make a plan or whatever. But I just feel lost.”

  “Forgive me if this should be obvious, but what’s the HAT project?” she asked.

  “HAT stands for Heart, Abilities, Talents. We’re supposed to follow our heart to find our abilities and talents this summer to help us choose high schools to apply to next year.”

  She grinned. “Now, doesn’t that sound interesting?”

  I sighed. “Not if you don’t even know where to start.Some people have it so easy. Like my friend Talia—she’s always loved to dance.” I turned to my brother. “And this guy here is probably going to be the next Babe Ruth.”

  Davis groaned. “Don’t say that, Lindy. He was a Yankee.”

  “Okay, whatever, that’s not my point. It’s like you were born with a baseball mitt on your hand.”

  “I wish,” Davis said. “Maybe the Mets would have recruited me right then!”

  Vivian laughed before she turned to me. “You know, my grandson is coming to visit soon. He’ll be here for a month or so, and I plan on taking him around the city. Would you like to join us? Maybe try some activities on for size and see what you think? I was a tour guide for many years and have lots of friends who would be glad to help, I’m sure.”

  I felt a wave of relief wash over me. This was exactly what I needed. “Really? That would be amazing!”

  “What’s amazing?” Mom said as she set bowls of sliced apples and pretzels in front of us.

  “I’ve invited Lindy to go around the city with me and my grandson,” Vivian replied. “If it’s all right with you, of course. I have some fun things planned, and it would be nice to have someone about Tyler’s age along with us to make it a bit more fun for him. And Lindy could work on her summer assignment.”

  “That is so nice of you to offer,” Mom said. “Lindy and Davis have some camps they’ll be going to, though. Would it be possible to work around those?”

  “How about if we meet up on Saturdays?” Vivian asked.

  “That would be perfect,” Mom said.

  “Wonderful,” Vivian replied. She turned back to me. “Shall we plan on beginning the Saturday after the grand opening? We can adjust as we go along if we need to.”

  I nodded with a smile, but all of a sudden, I felt nervous. I didn’t realize her grandson was my age. When she’d mentioned him earlier, I’d imagined him younger for some reason. Much younger. Would it be awkward hanging out with a boy? Some girls would probably be thrilled, but not me. The only boys I felt comfortable hanging out with were the ones I found in the pages of books.

  I thought about “trying activities on for size,” like Vivian had said, with a guy named Tyler standing by and watching me. This was not what I’d signed up for. Not only that, it sounded the exact opposite of amazing. No, it sounded like a big, awful pile of mud, and there I was, stuck right in the middle of it.

  I can’t move.

  Feet are stuck.

  I’ll wish for some sun

  and a whole lot of luck.

  Every day after school, Mom put me to work helping with stuff around the inn to get ready for the grand opening. On Tuesday, it was putting the books Vivian had given us into the bookshelf in the library. On Wednesday, it was cleaning the inside windows with Windex. On Thursday, it was dusting every square inch of the banister. This task did not make sense to me, the same way it wouldn’t make sense if someone told me the weather forecast called for snow in June.

  “Why do we need to do that?” I asked her.

  “Well, because it gets dusty like every other surface in this old place.”

  “Will anyone even notice, though?”

  “Yes. Someone will surely notice. I’m sorry, Lindy, I know it isn’t the most fun thing in the world to be doing, but I bet you’ll have it finished in no time. And once we have some guests and start bringing in some income, I’ll hire a maid service. But for the time being, we have to do it ourselves.”

  I reluctantly got a dust rag and went down to the first floor.

  When Dad came home a while later and saw me cleaning, he said, “Oh, good, your mom is making use of the free labor.”

 
I stood up and stretched my hands up high over my head. “Dad, you’re a lawyer. Aren’t there laws against this kind of thing?”

  He smiled. “It’s completely acceptable to have you help out with the family business. Sorry, kiddo. Hey, is Davis around?”

  “He went to Jacob’s house after school,” I said as I plopped down onto one of the steps. “They’re going to bring him home after dinner.”

  “Perfect. I have a surprise for him, so I was hoping I’d have time to do something fun with it.”

  “A surprise?” I asked. “What is it?”

  “Promise you won’t tell?” he said as he set his briefcase down and pulled out a fancy gold envelope.

  “I promise,” I said.

  “The firm has Mets season tickets behind home plate, and my name was drawn for two tickets to the Phillies game tomorrow night.”

  “But you have season tickets, too,” I said.

  “Yeah, but these are the best seats in the house.” He picked up his briefcase and walked up the stairs. “Davis will be thrilled, trust me. Mom didn’t want to go to the game tomorrow, since she has so much to do to get ready for Saturday. It’s the perfect solution.” All of a sudden, he looked concerned. “Are you okay with missing the game, Lindy?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You know me. I mostly go for the concession stand.”

  “You’re a good sport,” he said with a smile as he walked by me. “I’m gonna go find your mom and tell her the good news. Thanks for your help, kiddo. You’re doing a great job.”

  I sighed. “You’re welcome.”

  It wasn’t fair. I felt like Cinderella. Davis was out having fun with a friend, and when he came home, he’d have an amazing surprise waiting for him. Meanwhile, all I got was work, work, and more work.

  I set my rag down and went to the front doors and peeked out one of the panel windows. It was such a nice day. Mom wouldn’t mind if I stepped outside for a few minutes for some fresh air, would she?