Ivy clapped loudly. “I’d love to see Olivia and the squad do that one,” she said, grinning.
Olivia’s mom looked hopeful as she sat back down at the table.
“Maybe you could teach it to me later,” Olivia said wearily.
After what seemed like hours, everybody finished eating and Olivia jumped to her feet. “I’ll clear the table,” she volunteered.
“I’ll help,” Ivy offered.
Olivia’s mom started to protest, but Olivia said, “Have a seat, Elvira!”
“It’s customary in Goth culture for the twin girls to clear the dishes,” Ivy added with a smile.
“I guess we could get used to that,” Olivia’s mom responded, grinning at her husband.
Once they’d made it into the kitchen, Olivia set the plates down and turned to look at her sister. “Are you freaking out?” she blurted. “Because I’m freaking out!”
“No,” Ivy answered. “Why?”
“You don’t think this is strange behavior for parents?” Olivia demanded.
“Olivia, my father won’t even meet you!” Ivy said. “At least your parents are trying. Besides, if you think you’re embarrassed by your parents, you should have seen Brendan at the mall last night when his dad showed up.”
Olivia put down the sponge. “You met Brendan’s father?”
Ivy nodded. “He wants you and me to come over to their house for lunch tomorrow. Apparently, Mr. Daniels has been dying to talk to us. Can you come?”
“Sure!” Olivia said, rinsing a plate. “Do you really think he might be able to prove I have some vamp in me?”
Ivy glanced nervously toward the doorway to make sure no one was around. “You can’t say anything like that tomorrow at the Daniels’, Olivia. If Brendan’s parents find out that I told you, who knows what might happen?”
How are we supposed to talk about anything with Brendan’s father, Olivia thought, if we’re not allowed to talk about anything? At the same time, she knew her sister was right.
Olivia was drying the last dish when she realized she was dreading returning to the dining room, where her parents were still posing as Goths.
“Would it be okay if I didn’t go shopping with you and my mom?” Olivia asked Ivy tentatively.
“ Yo u don’t want to go shopping?” Ivy marveled.
“I can’t take any more of my mom’s weirdness,” Olivia admitted. “I could stay here and do more research on the Internet—like, looking up twins in Owl Creek.”
“Okay,” Ivy agreed. “I’ve never had a mother before. It’ll suck to have one to myself for a whole afternoon.”
“Let’s get manicures!” Olivia’s mom said to Ivy excitedly as they descended the escalator. There was a new nail place called Cute-icles on the ground floor.
“Why not?” Ivy said gamely. “I’ve never had a manicure before.”
“But you have such beautiful hands!” Audrey exclaimed as they stepped off the escalator.
Now this is what I need a mother for, Ivy thought as Audrey pulled her along enthusiastically.
“What color are you getting?” Audrey asked her, staring down at the tray of bottles.
Ivy looked at all the different colors. “I think I’ll go for Midnight Maroon.”
“That’s what I was going to pick!” Olivia’s mom squealed. “The girls in bridge club are going to be so shocked.”
When they were done at the nail salon, they flitted from store to store, trying on funny earrings and stuff. At Spins Records, Audrey asked Ivy to play her “what the Goth kids are listening to,” and then proceeded to seriously rock out at a listening station to the new Final Fangtasy album, doing a zombie dance in the aisle. Now I know where Olivia gets her bubbliness from, thought Ivy.
After that they went to Dungeon Clothing, where Olivia’s mom noticed Ivy admiring a top and made her try it on. Peeking out from behind the dressing room curtain, Ivy spied Audrey waiting for her to emerge. For a moment, she tried to pretend that she really was her mother. This is what it’s like, she thought, to go shopping with your mom.
Ivy stepped out from behind the curtain and cleared her throat. Audrey sprang up from her seat and looked her up and down. “That looks deadly awesome!”
Ivy couldn’t help smiling at Audrey’s mangled speech. “You think so?” she said, turning around and looking herself over in the mirror. The top really was drop-dead—it was like a black spiderweb stretched over a shimmery gray satin camisole—but it didn’t seem to fit quite right.
Audrey held a finger up and rummaged through her purse. Finding some safety pins, she stood behind Ivy and took a handful of fabric. “Hold still,” she said and popped two pins in.
It was as if the top was transformed by a magic spell before Ivy’s eyes. It hung perfectly. “H-how did you do that?” Ivy stammered.
“Olivia says I’m a domestic goddess,” Audrey replied proudly.
Moms totally suck! thought Ivy.
A little while later, she and Audrey were sharing a table in the food court.
“So tell me about your father,” Audrey asked, sipping a Diet Coke daintily so she wouldn’t smudge her latest application of Ivy’s lipstick. Ivy put down her burger and stared at her plate. “Don’t you get along with him?” Audrey pressed.
“I usually do,” Ivy admitted. “I mean, I love him. He’s always been amazing. But it’s hard not to be mad at him lately.”