Marigold by Heather Manheim (best books for 8th graders .TXT) 📕

tail was slapping the bed softly: pat, pat, pat. Davis sat there, not sure what to do. She kind of scrunched back up against the headboard and surveyed the area to see if she could slip out of bed and not go near the cat. “Meow!”

It sounded so loud and angry that she let out a little yelp and leaped out of bed. The cat gave her a look of contempt, jumped down from his assumed throne, and sauntered toward Davis. She gave another yelp and backed up against the wall. The cat stopped and took a good long stretch; it seemed to go from his shoulders, down his back, and out each side as the cat shook each leg out individually after stretching. The cat then walked over to Davis, looked up at her in her supposed disdain, rubbed against her legs once, and promptly left the room.

Davis immediately felt silly. She couldn’t believe she was afraid of that cat. It had been kind of cute when it gave her a leg rub. The cat gave her a warm, cozy feeling. Especially since she hadn’t been sure what to expect, and what had happened was pleasant. She hoped that would happen more and more. She felt the last few days of her life had been so crazy; it had been full of illness, uncertainty, and fear. A pleasant surprise at this point was a welcome surprise, albeit a small event.

Davis realized she was famished and thirsty and that people were waiting on her. She sighed and closed the door until it clicked and then turned back to the bed to dress in the clean clothes Quinn had brought her. She was happy to put some fresh-smelling clothing on, at least. Another small pleasure to hold onto, she thought as she pulled on the clean white underwear and clipped on the bra and then the pants, which were weird to her; they were a thick dark blue material that was slightly stiff. The shirt was red and a little too big but soft and comfortable. Lastly, she donned a pair of white socks. Overall, she felt that Quinn had guessed her sizes pretty well; the bra might be a tad loose, but nothing was uncomfortable. She pulled at the edge of her shirt nervously and then walked out the door, scared but eager to find out what was about to happen. She found herself wishing that the cat was there to escort her out.

Alas, the cat was not there, so Davis made her way out of her room solo. She went down the hallway, opposite the way she went for the bathroom. She didn’t know which direction she should go but felt like she could hear some sounds coming from that way. She walked slow and steady, peeking around corners and into doors very carefully, unsure what to look for or what she would find. The sounds were getting louder, so there was a certainty she was going the right way. Davis got to a doorway and peeped around a corner, seeing Quinn and another woman in what appeared to be a kitchen. She couldn’t hear what Quinn said, who was whispering something to the woman next to her. The other woman started laughing, and she lightly placed her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. As she did this, the woman turned her head slightly and saw Davis. “Oh!” she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She quickly jerked her hand away from Quinn’s shoulder at the same time she spoke.

“Davis, so glad to see you!” said Quinn with a broad smile. “This is Ana. She also lives here with her two children, her little boy Russell W., who turned four in February, and her little girl Mae has just turned two. She’s Namaguchi’ s fourth wife.”

Ana walked over and stuck out her hand to shake with Davis. Davis took her warm hand in hers and shook it gingerly. Davis was surprised by the length of her hair; it was longer than any hair she’d seen—and it was shiny, bouncy, and pretty. It was very individualistic, too; something she was not used to seeing, whether it was a hairstyle or anything else. “So, um, how are you feeling?” Ana asked tentatively.

“Better, I think,” said Davis. “A lot of confusion still. About why I’m here and such. And I feel like, oh, I don’t know; it doesn’t matter. It’s hard to explain anyhow.”

“I’m sure it is confusing, and maybe like you don’t know what is real and what is fake, true, or false?”

“That about sums it up, I suppose.”

“Well, that is normal. Because it isn’t normal to hear everything you’ve ever known is not true. But believe me, it will even out. It’ll all come out in the wash.”

“What does that mean, ‘it’ll all come out in the wash’?”

“Oh, it was just something my mom said to me when I was troubled. It just means that everything will get worked out eventually and that things will be okay in the end. So, don’t worry because we can’t control when or where it will get figured out, but it will get figured out.”

“Your mom sounds wise; does she live here too?”

At this point, Quinn seemed to leap forward, and she piped in, “Are you hungry? Do you need something to eat or drink? We were just getting some lunch together.”

“Yes, actually,” answered Davis, shyly, quietly. “That’s why I came in here in the first place. I hope it is okay.”

“Let’s see,” said Quinn. “What can we feed you? Your stomach is still getting used to regular food, so I don’t think we should go crazy. Do you want to try some plain oatmeal, maybe a small salad with no dressing?”

“Well, I don’t know really what any of those things are or how they taste. You’re the expert. I’ll leave it up to you, but is there anything I can do to help you get things ready?”

“No, we’re making salads anyhow, and the