Getting Back to Normal by Marilyn Levinson Page A

other, but now we’re the bestest of friends.”
    “Wonderful,” I say, not bothering to turn around.
    Daddy’s fumbling around in his jacket pocket. “Vannie, I made out a shopping list. Take a look at it and see if I’ve left anything out.”
    I turn on the reading light. Daddy’s put down about eight items, a far cry from everything we need. I’m glad to have something to think about instead of Tammy’s angry words echoing in my mind.
    “Don’t forget spaghetti,” Robby says. “And all the stuff for your spaghetti-cheese omelet.”
    Pasta, I write. Daddy’s already written eggs and cheese. Bacon bits, I add. Check out the different seasonings. Then I think of what I’ll need for when Aunt Mayda comes to dinner—chicken breasts, bread crumbs, rice or potatoes. I put down both so I can decide that day. Salad, vegetables. I write fast and furious, turning the paper over, as more items come to mind.
    Daddy notices and laughs. “Looks like we’ll be buying out the store.”
    “I may prepare some dinners. It’s better than eating that unhealthy junk food you keep on bringing home.”
    That stops his silly jokes. We ride in silence the rest of the way to the supermarket.
    I’ve nothing to do but run through my fight with Tammy. Visiting her this afternoon was one long bore. She didn’t want to do anything but sit in her room and talk about Archie. She went on and on about him, like he was some romantic knight who’d given up his life for the sake of the woman he loved. The more she said, the more aggravated I got, until my stomach was churning and I couldn’t stand it any longer.
    “Stop turning him into a hero. The only thing Archie managed to do was knock himself out and die.”
    She glared and said I was heartless, and the least I could do was help him.
    “I don’t know what he wants me to do!” I shouted. “He hasn’t told me.”
    Oh, you know all right,” was her smug answer.
    That was the final straw.
    “Tammy,” I told her, “you’ve been watching too many soaps. I don’t want to meddle in other people’s business and you shouldn’t, either!”
    She sniffed. “I’m sorry, Vannie, but we need to help Archie fulfill his final wish so he can rest in peace.”
    “We? I don’t think we’ll do anything of the kind,” I said sarcastically.
    “Well, you asked me to help you. It was my idea to go to the library and find out what happened to him.”
    “Right, and maybe telling you about Archie in the first place was one big mistake.”
    I knew I shouldn’t have said that, even before the words left my mouth. Tammy ran from the room and locked herself in the bathroom. I waited a while. When she didn’t come back, I went down to the den and watched TV till Daddy honked for me.
    We pull into the strip mall closest to MG. As we’re walking into the well-lit supermarket, I give Daddy the list.
    “Here,” I say, and take his hand. Daddy smiles and squeezes mine back. I’m glad. Now at least I don’t have two people mad at me.
    We grab a wagon and wheel it up and down the aisles. Daddy’s in a good enough mood. He doesn’t rush me when I study food labels to find out its nutritious value the way Mom taught me to do.
    I stop at the meat counter. “Should we get some meat?” I ask.
    “Why not?” Daddy asks.
    “And some chicken?”
    “Sure, okay.”
    I giggle. “You mean I can buy anything I want to?”
    “You’re the cook,” he tells me, “but remember, our freezer in the cottage is kind of small.”
    Robby runs off and returns with two brands of cat food. “Which should I get, Vannie. This kind or that?”
    I shrug. “Try them both. And get some dried food, too.”
    “Okay,” Robby says, and he’s gone. Daddy, I notice, hasn’t said one word.
    By the time we head for the checkout counter, our wagon is full. All the registers have long lines.
    “Oh, no,” I grumble.
    “What will you make for dinner tonight?” Daddy asks as we wait.
    “I don’t know. Something