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    Her accent had me itching to jump out of bed. She sounded Irish with her echoing “cue” for cutie. That meant she came from Ireland. Might even have known Mem and Pep in their Irish days. What if she was mates with Mem when they were kids? Wow. Bubble-blowing-wow. Finally, somebody who’d clue me in on their past.
    I had to hold my breath to keep from letting them know I was eavesdropping, but I so wanted to ask that lady some questions about Mem. What was she like in school? Did she ever do her math homework (because she never helped me with mine)? What kind of bike did she ride? Who did she play with?
    If they didn’t leave soon, I’d pop like a balloon. The only reason I didn’t bolt out of bed was because I knew Mem and Pep wouldn’t let her say a word with them standing there. No, I’d wait until I could talk to her alone, then I’d get the real scoop.
    As they closed the door and walked away, I felt all cozy warm with the idea of getting the real story about my parents. No more fairy tales or goofy lines about
pictures dropped in ponds. Someone would finally tell me about Mem and Pep before they came to the U.S. Mem claimed I wasn’t ready for all that “business,” as she called it.
    One time she sat me in her lap, pulled her long hair over my shoulders, and let me braid it, saying, “You got a bit of your own childhood to deal with before we muddle it up with ours.”
    â€œHuh?”
    She kissed my cheek. “That fear of yours, it’s like a tidal wave, washing out the rest of the world when it takes you over.”
    â€œWhat’s that got to do with you as a kid?”
    She put her head next to mine and hummed. “What I’m saying, Kyna, is you have enough to deal with. Your mind’s about full up with the worry of it. You get yourself past that fear and the whole world will be yours. Including our lives before you came along and cheered them up.”
    Another bribe. Take a water step and we’ll buy you a zoom lens. Get over your fears and we’ll talk about our past. Sounded more like blackmail to me!
    What was the big secret anyway?
    I’d floated plenty of theories. Like maybe they’d grown up as Travelers, the Irish folks who traveled
in caravans and never settled in a home. Nothing wrong with that to me. I’d love to live in an RV and see the world. But a lot of people treated them badly, even accused them of being criminals. That got me to wondering if maybe Mem and Pep might be in the witness protection program for testifying against the Irish Mafia or something. I asked Pep about that last month. That’s how he found out I’d been sneaking over to our neighbor Mrs. Pengetti’s to watch TV. And I got grounded for a week. Too bad it wasn’t for the summer. I could’ve stayed home.
    Mem and Pep only let me watch educational TV, but movies can be educational, too. How else would I know about the witness protection program? They sure never talked about it on any Discovery Channel show I’ve watched.
    No regular TV wasn’t the only tough rule Mem and Pep lived by. We couldn’t even use shampoo unless it had all natural products inside and said right on the bottle that it wasn’t tested on animals. And I’m all for making sure animals don’t get hurt, but a girl likes to eat a good Twinkie, drink a tasty soda, and watch a little TV every now and again.
    I figured Mem and Pep did plenty of those kinds of things back in their kiddy days. That’s why they don’t
talk about it. They don’t want me knowing they actually ate food that could turn into clear liquid if you put it in the microwave. That’s right. Twinkies melt down into a sticky clear goo. No real food there. None. Yuck.
    I bet that’s what Mem and Pep had to hide. A normal childhood.
    Pft. Wouldn’t fool me for much longer. I’d track that woman down and get her to spill the