#cbc&k

Han made a very good point. “If we don’t clean up the kitchen, we’ll never be allowed to make cookies again,” he reminded them.

“Ugh, you’re right,” Owen sighed, setting the burning hot cookie trays on top of the stove to start cooling. “C’mon guys. Light Knights Assemble!” 

Jade and her brothers loved to play Space Wars, and sometimes when they had a yucky chore to do, they would pretend they were Light Knights, guardians of peace and fairness of the galaxy. The Light Knights had to do hard work as part of their training in the movies. 

“Okay,” Jade agreed. “I’ll clean up the table. The wedding was about to have a very tragic ending, anyway.”

“What wedding?” asked Lars.

“Mrs. Salt and Mr. Pepper, of course!” 

“Forget I asked,” Lars said under his breath. Jade stuck her tongue out at him. 

Jade was still putting all of the wedding guests into the drawer when Appa appeared downstairs. “Has anyone seen—- oh, boy. Ah… what are you doing down here?” 

“It’s time for the tea party!” Jade announced proudly. “Now we just need Daddy and we can start!” 

Appa just stared at the kids, one eyebrow raised. “This is a pretty impressive mess you’ve made. Did you really have to get out every piece of silverware we have?” 

Unsure how to answer, Jade remained quiet. Obviously, she’d needed lots of guests for the wedding, since Mrs. Salt was so popular in the community. How did grown-ups not understand things like that? 

The front door opened, and Daddy stepped inside, his glasses fogging up as he did so. His face was all red and blotchy from being outside in the cold air, and when he took off his hat, his hair stuck out all over. Jade giggled. 

“There were a few more I wound up having to replace,” Daddy said once he’d taken off his coat and was using his sleeve to clean his glasses. He ran a hand through his hair to try to straighten it.

“Oh? You’re talking to me now?” Appa folded his arms across his chest. “Big if true.” 

“Of course I’m—” Daddy looked around, apparently noticing the kitchen full of children, cookies, dishes, and spilled cookie dough. “You just let them destroy the kitchen unsupervised? Gee, thanks, honey.” 

“It’s not destroyed,” Jade offered helpfully. “We’re cleaning it!” 

Daddy and Appa didn’t seem to hear her. “I’m not the only one who left them alone,” Appa pointed out, “and I needed some introvert time.”

“And I don’t?”

“I never said that—”

“Daddy! Can we have the tea party now?” Jade went over to tug on his sleeve. “Please?” 

Daddy sighed. “I told you, Jade, not now.” He turned away from her and started to head to his room. 

Jade couldn’t take it anymore. “But you promised!” She cried, her voice breaking. Large, hot tears began to spill down her cheeks, and she stomped her foot hard on the ground. “You promised! You and Appa said we could have a tea party later, and it is later, and all the uncles had to leave and couldn’t come and Owen and I made the cookies already and I told Luke, Lars, and Han they could come too, and— and Appa just came downstairs, and you promised, you promised we could have a tea party today, and all you’re doing is fighting!” She sobbed, covering her eyes with both hands as she cried. She’d been so patient and waited so long. How could Daddy still tell her to wait? 

The room was silent for a moment, and then Jade felt a set of strong arms wrap around her, picking her up off the ground.  She moved her hands away from her eyes to find herself in Daddy’s embrace as he hoisted her onto his hip. He had watery eyes just like Jade did. 

“You’re right, little star,” Daddy said softly. “I did promise, and I’m so sorry I let you down.”

Jade sniffled, looking into Daddy’s eyes. They were light brown, like the special sugar she and Owen had used to make the cookies, but right now they were also sort of red around the edges. “Are you crying, Daddy?” She asked. 

He nodded. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m sad. I see that I hurt your feelings, and that makes me feel sad. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did anyway, and that was wrong.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” said Appa, coming to join them and wrapping both of them in a hug. “I also promised without following through, and I wasn’t being a good listener.” He kissed Daddy on the cheek. “And I’m sorry for arguing with you, honey— you were just trying to help.” 

“I could have been a little nicer,” Daddy admitted. 

Appa leaned his head against Daddy’s, and Jade felt snuggly between them. “And I know you didn’t get much sleep last night, so no wonder you were cranky,” he said, winking at Daddy, who blushed at that.

“Why are you not sleeping?” Jade frowned. “Did you not go to bed at your bedtime? Were you up late playing?”

“Yep,” chuckled Appa, at the same as Daddy turned even redder and said “uh…”

“Daddy! It’s important to go to sleep at bedtime so you can get good rest. That’s why we need to put our toys and books away when we’re asked,” Jade instructed him, shocked that he couldn’t even follow the house rule about bedtime. “Otherwise we feel tired and cranky the next day.”

Appa nodded. “That’s right, honey. Listen to your daughter.”

Daddy groaned. “If you two are going to gang up on me, I’ve already lost,” he sighed. He gave Jade a squeeze and then set her back down. “Is it too late to have our tea party, little star?”

Jade rubbed her eyes on her sleeve to dry them off. “No,” she replied. “It’s the perfect time. Can I start the hot water?”

“Sure,” Daddy said. “How can I help?” 

Clapping her hands in excitement, Jade scurried to the kettle to push the button. “Okay, Daddy, you can help everyone pick the kind of tea they want.” She fetched the box with the little tins of tea leaves in it. “The choices are, um… burger-moat, darn-jelly… oh, this one is like our name, Choi! Um, cham… cham…” She frowned, passing the box to him. “These words are too hard for me, so you should read them.”

“Bergamot, darjeeling, chai, chamomile… these are tricky words!” Daddy exclaimed, giving her a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m a good reader. I’ll make sure everyone gets a tea they like.”

“And Appa can help serve the cookies,” Jade announced. She looked around, noticing that her brothers had, by some miracle, finished cleaning the kitchen when she, Daddy, and Appa were in a hug, and Owen had gotten a plate out for the cookies. 

Appa smiled. “I can do that.”

“I’ll get napkins,” Han offered.

“Where’re the little cups for cream and sugar?” Luke asked. 

“Don’t give milk to Owen, it makes him barf,” Lars added.

“Hey, shut up!” Shouted Owen. “No it doesn’t!”

Daddy sighed. “Don’t say ‘shut up’ to your brother, please.”

Jade smiled as she watched her family bustle around the kitchen, readying themselves for the tea party. One by one, each of her brothers and both her parents sat around the table, with one place empty for the cookie plate and the teapot, just as she’d planned when she was going to invite all her fathers. Jade’s teapot was a little small, so Appa brought out a fancy coffee pot so there was enough hot water for everyone on the table. 

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Appa,” Jade exclaimed. “And it matches the dummy toss cups!”

Appa looked like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s pronounced ‘demitasse’, nae jag-eun byeol. But thank you.” 

“This is a lovely party,” Daddy said. “Thank you for hosting it, kids. What a perfect activity for such a snowy day.” 

Jade beamed before taking a big bite of her cookie. She chewed for a moment and then froze. Hmm. Maybe there was such a thing as too much candy in a chocolate chip cookie, after all. 

“Ah— what’s in these cookies?” Appa was holding up a cookie that was missing one bite, eyeing it suspiciously. Daddy was also holding a cookie in his hand, making a face at it.

“Dad! Appa! Owen stole my Spirit’s Eve candy!” Han cried, bursting into tears as he picked apart his cookie and found bits of various treats hidden inside. “I was saving that!” 

“These are the best cookies ever!” Luke mumbled with his mouth full. “Can I have another one?”

Uncle Zayne was buttoning his coat near the front door when Jade went back inside. “Uncle Zayne! Are you leaving?”

“Indeed I am,” replied Uncle Zayne. “I’m accompanying great-grandma Maive on a business trip this afternoon, and I still have some more work to do before we depart.” 

Jade’s face fell. “But… Uncle Zayne, I’m having a tea party, and I want you to come!”

Uncle Zayne leaned down and kissed Jade on the forehead. “I’d love to, pequeña estrella, but I have to go. Save me a cookie for when I get back, okay?” He was out the door before she even knew what was happening. 

“Hmph,” Jade said to the empty room. Well, there were still a few more tea party guests she could ask. She had three more fathers, after all. 

It wasn’t looking promising. She found Uncle Sam playing Jumino Kart with her brothers (well, he was playing with Owen and Luke, while Han and Lars watched), and he told her that this was their last game.

“Aw, man, I want to join you for tea, but as soon as Seb and Sterl figure out what’s wrong with the bike, we’ve gotta go back to grandma Robin’s house to help her,” said Uncle Sam. “Grandma Robin needs someone with big, strong muscles who can carry lots of wood— do you know anyone like that?” He flexed his arm to make a big muscle, and Jade copied him. 

“Me! I have big, strong muscles!” Jade reminded him. Hers weren’t as big and strong as Uncle Sam’s, or Daddy’s either (Daddy had really strong muscles, sort of like Mr. Alex, Daddy’s other Jewish friend in Pelican Town), but she could lift lots of heavy things, like bales of hay and her dollhouse full of furniture and the big cookbooks on Appa’s bookshelf. (She was strong enough to lift the goats on the farm, too, but she wasn’t allowed to do that because last time she tried, she got bitten, and it really hurt her finger, and then Daddy and Appa were big mad.) 

Uncle Sam laughed. Jade liked when Uncle Sam laughed because he had a really happy smile. Uncle Seb said it was like sunshine. “You sure do, kiddo— but this is a job for grown-ups. Me and Seb are gonna head out as soon as he’s back.”

Jade sighed, disappointed. “And Uncle Sterling is going with you?”

“Yeppers,” replied Uncle Sam. “He’s out there with Seb looking at the bike right now, which is how I got roped into playing games with these clowns.” He gestured to Jade’s four brothers, who all burst into various forms of protest (even though Jade knew he was joking about the clowns. Her brothers didn’t even have any clown costumes, even though her house did feel like a circus sometimes.) 

“Ugh!” Jade stomped her foot. “It’s not fair! Why is everyone so busy today?” She felt like crying, but she didn’t want to cry in front of her brothers. Instead, she made her way back to the dining room slowly, dragging her feet on the carpet the whole time. The table was set all pretty with the tea set and the dummy toss cups, but she didn’t have a single guest to attend her party. Feeling miserable, she slumped at the table, wondering what to do next. 

The front door opened, and Uncle Seb and Uncle Sterling entered. Jade watched as they went into the living room to talk to Uncle Sam, and then the three of them eventually left. Jade didn’t even wave goodbye. She felt too sad. After a while, Daddy and Appa came back inside as well.

“I don’t think we have to deal with it right this second,” Appa was saying as he took off his boots by the door.

Daddy sighed. “Yes, we do. What if it leaks, or the crack spreads? It’ll be an easy fix, I just need to change into work clothes and grab my tools, I know I have some spare wood in the shed.”

“How long has that shingle been broken, anyway? It’ll be fine. I’m tired. Let’s take a nap,” Appa complained.

“It’ll take me, like, ten minutes. You don’t have to join me.”

“Prairie King—”

“Don’t ‘Prairie King’ me right now, June. Someone has to be an adult around here sometimes,” Daddy snapped. Uh oh. He sounded kind of mad. Jade needed to take action.

“Are you ready for the tea party, Daddy?” She asked, hopping out of her chair. “I can make the water!” She wasn’t allowed to pour the tea when it was boiling hot, but she knew how to push the button on the kettle so it would turn on. “But I need help with—”

“Not now, Jade.” Daddy’s voice was louder than usual, and she flinched, sitting back down quickly. 

“We can have a tea party later, promise,” Appa added. “Apparently, we need to fix the roof right now.” He sounded kind of mad too, and he rolled his eyes when he was talking.

“I told you, you don’t have to join me. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t, if you’re going to be this unhelpful.”

“And I told you I was afraid of heights and didn’t want to go on the ladder.”

“I didn’t make you go on the ladder. You did that yourself because I ‘wasn’t doing it right’!” Daddy shouted. “And I don’t see why we need to keep the twinkle lights up after Winter Star anyway.” He groaned. “This is annoying. Where in the world did Seb put that stupid hammer?”

“I’m going upstairs,” Appa announced angrily. “Don’t follow me.” He started to head upstairs to where his music room was. 

“I can’t, because someone has to do repairs around here so the house doesn’t fall apart, and that someone is always me.” Daddy stalked toward the bedroom and closed the door behind him. 

Jade tried to make herself very, very small in the dining chair, watching as her parents left the room. No way would her tea party happen now. 

The sound of piano music came from upstairs. Appa was playing something that sounded sad. Jade liked to sit on Appa’s lap and play piano with him, but she didn’t think he wanted her to play with him right now. Eventually, Daddy came out of the bedroom dressed in his overalls and went back outside. She sighed.

Jade was still pouting at the dining table when Lars wandered into the kitchen. “What’s that banging?”

“Daddy is hammering,” Jade explained. “Something’s broken on the roof.” She let out an extra-loud sigh, so Lars knew she was very, very sad. 

“Oh. Okay. What’re you doing?” Lars gave her a suspicious look.

“I’m trying to have a tea party,” she grumbled. “But nobody wants to come. Uncle Zayne went away and Uncle Sam and Uncle Seb and Uncle Sterling had to do a grown-up job, and Daddy and Appa are fighting. So I don’t have anyone to help me with the tea party.” 

“Oh.” Lars rummaged through the fridge for a minute. “That sucks. You want a cheese stick?” Sometimes her brothers weren’t all bad. Sometimes they offered her snacks, for example. A cheese stick did sound kind of tasty. (Daddy, Appa, and Owen got upset tummies when they ate a lot of cheese sticks, but not Jade.)

“Yeah. And don’t say ‘sucks’,” she chided him. “It’s a bad word.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is! Daddy and Appa said!”

Lars rolled his eyes. “You want a snack or not? Jeez.” He tossed a cheese stick toward Jade, and it landed with a soft thud on the dining table, narrowly missing one of the dummy toss cups.

“Careful! You’re gonna break the cups!” 

“Who cares? Have fun with your dumb party.” Lars unwrapped his snack, leaving the wrapper on the counter instead of throwing it in the trash can, and headed back to where the rest of their brothers were playing video games. Never mind, Jade scowled. Brothers were all bad. No wonder she didn’t want them to come to her party. 

With all her fathers out of the house and all her brothers playing video games without her, Jade felt very lonely and quiet. She couldn’t make cookies by herself because she was too little to use the oven, and she was allowed to use the toaster if she were very, very careful, but she learned the hard way that only bread and bagels go in there. Cookies made a big mess if you tried to put them in the toaster. She couldn’t make tea by herself, because the water was too hot when it was ready for tea. Cold water didn’t taste as good. She couldn’t go up to her room to play with her dollhouse or Space Wars action figures or do coloring, because Appa was doing piano time (Jade’s bed was in the music room, so she and Appa shared it). And she didn’t feel like reading a book. She was too sad. 

Even the cats were out of the question. She’d entertained the notion of inviting Anakin and Kenma to the tea party, but they weren’t very good listeners and weren’t likely to stay put at the chairs. Plus, cookies and tea could make them sick. (They were only allowed to eat cat food and sometimes a special treat like cheese or fish.) 

It just wasn’t fair. Jade crossed her arms, laying her head on the table, and began to cry. 

“Ugh! This is so boring! Mom, can I go play at the arcade?” Rachel whined, fidgeting in her chair. 

Mrs. Cohen thought for a moment. “This shouldn’t take long, sweetie,” she replied, checking her watch. “I’d rather you weren’t too far away.” 

“Ughhh,” groaned Rachel again. She stood, making her way to the front desk. “Do you have any old magazines?” 

Ben’s stomach was full of butterflies. He watched as the receptionist pointed Rachel in the direction of the basket of free-to-take magazines, ones that were several months out of date or who had been read to tatters. Mrs. Cohen wouldn’t let her daughter buy teen magazines for herself, but if they were free from the clinic, they were fair game. 

He wasn’t here for magazines, though. Swallowing hard, he gazed at the posters on the walls. All of them contained smiling, happy-looking people, grinning into the camera or laughing with their friends. Every single one of the happy people was wearing glasses, of course.

Ben was not a fan of the optometrist. Some parts were okay— he didn’t mind the little game they made him play with the clicker (although calling it a “video game” was a far stretch), and reading the color chart was easy. But there were also the awful parts, like the puff of air that scared him every time, or getting the eye drops put in so his pupils got huge and he had to wear sunglasses for the rest of the day. This was just a routine appointment, his yearly exam, but he wished he could be anywhere else.

“Cohen?” Dr. Tom called out, and Mrs. Cohen, Ben, and Rachel (with magazines in hand) followed her into the exam room. “Hey there, Ben, have a seat for me. How’s school?” Ben settled in the big exam chair as Dr. Tom began adjusting her tools around him. 

“Fine.”

“What’s your favorite subject this year?” Dr. Tom asked, pulling a large thing in place that looked sort of like a pair of mega-binoculars. “Still science?”

“Yeah.” Ben tried to take a deep breath to help calm his nerves. 

“They did this experiment with mold,” Rachel butted in, “and it was like, super gross. The teacher was all, ‘what’s that horrible stench?’— like, mid-lecture— and it turns out it was Benji’s project, and she made him throw it away in front of everyone in class!” She laughed. 

Ben would have glared at her if not for the eye machine blocking his view of his sister. “Shut up,” he growled. 

“Benji, language.” Mrs. Cohen reminded him.

“She started it!”

Dr. Tom laughed. “That sounds like quite the project, Ben,” she commented. “What are you reading these days? You’re a big reader, right?”

Ben paused. Truthfully, he wasn’t reading a ton of books lately. Sure, he had to read for school, but reading made his head hurt. “Um, just school stuff, I guess…” he trailed off as Dr. Tom instructed him to put his chin on a part of the machine sticking out at him. “I don’t really like reading anymore,” he added.

“Hmm,” she murmured. “Well, Ben, you remember how this works? I’m going to cover one eye, and ask you to read the chart on the wall, okay? Easy-peasy.” 

“Okay,” Ben agreed, and sure enough, there was a click and something blocked the vision in his left eye. 

“Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.”

Ben stared at the chart through the large binocular-looking machine. There was a big E on top of it, and then the letters below got smaller and smaller. Nobody could read the ones on the bottom, because they were so tiny. That must just be for decoration. 

“E,” he answered proudly. Piece of cake. “T, H, 3, C, L, U, B.” He liked that line because it almost said the club so it was easy to remember.

“Great,” Dr. Tom answered. She clicked some buttons, and one of the tiny rows of letters became isolated. “How about these?”

Ben blinked. Surely Dr. Tom was joking, right? Nobody could read that. “Um…” He squinted and blinked again, trying to determine what he was looking at. 

“Go ahead,” Dr. Tom said again. 

“C’mon, Benji, read the line!” Rachel piped up, as Mrs. Cohen tried to shush her. 

He blinked some more, trying to ignore his sister. “…I? Um… D… W? 6?”

Dr. Tom made a humming sound, like she was thinking. “Try this line,” she said, shifting the focus to illuminate a different line of letters.

Squinting, Ben tried to make them out. Why was she making him read these stupid tiny letters that nobody could see, anyway? Obviously, these were just to take up space on the chart. Everyone knew they were impossible to read. “F? Um, Z?” He sighed angrily. “They’re too small,” he grumbled. 

“Let’s try something,” Dr. Tom said. She adjusted a few things, and, with a clicking noise, the lens in front of Ben’s right eye began to change. “Does this help you?” She asked. 

Ben blinked again, but this time, the letters were much more legible. “E, S, K, 2, 9, R,” he read. 

“Good job.” Dr. Tom switched the machine so he was looking out of his left eye, and after fiddling with it some more, he was able to read the small line with his left eye, also. After that, she flipped between various lenses, asking Ben if he preferred choice one or choice two, over and over again. His head was beginning to hurt again.

When Dr. Tom told him he could relax, he leaned back in the chair as she slid the machines off to the side. “Tell me, do you get headaches when you read, or maybe in class?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I don’t like reading anymore.”

“I see,” Dr. Tom smiled gently. “Do you have trouble reading the board at school?”

The butterflies in Ben’s stomach were fluttering more aggressively at this point. He didn’t remember this many questions last time he had an eye exam. “Only when I’m sitting in the back,” he replied, “but I’m in the front row because my last name is early in the alphabet, so it’s not too bad.” 

Dr. Tom nodded. “Got it.” She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “So, Ben, I have some good news. I think we can make reading and studying more comfortable for you, and I think we can get those headaches to stop, too.”

Ben had a sinking suspicion he knew where this was heading. “Do I have to get glasses?” He asked in a small voice.

“Hey, nice work, Benji! Join the club!” Rachel exclaimed, tapping the edge of her own blue cats-eye frames. 

“Rachel, stop,” Mrs. Cohen, another glasses-wearer herself, admonished. 

Dr. Tom was giving him a warm smile, and he felt a few of the butterflies calm down. Only a few, though. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m getting at. It seems like glasses would really help you. You’ll be able to see better in class, and you’ll feel better, too.”

“But…” Ben felt his heart plummeting to his feet. “I don’t want to,” he countered. What if all the kids made fun of him at school? He already wasn’t popular or athletic or on the honor roll or— 

“I understand,” Dr. Tom sympathized. “Getting glasses can be a big adjustment, and a lot of people feel anxious when they first get them. Even adults feel nervous about getting their first pair of glasses, sometimes.”

Ben frowned. He thought adults weren’t supposed to be anxious or scared of anything. Even Ben, who was twelve and a half, thought he was too old to be afraid of as many things as he was. “Really?”

Dr. Tom nodded. “Yep. And I bet you’ll enjoy wearing them. It’ll feel good to have those headaches stop, right?”

“Um… yeah, I guess.” Truthfully, that did sound pretty nice. “But I’ll wear them just for reading, right? For the headaches?”

“Well…” Dr. Tom exchanged a look with Mrs. Cohen for a moment. “Not exactly. You have myopia and astigmatism— have you heard those words before?”

Ben shook his head, while Rachel burst out, “I have! That’s what I have in my eyes, too.” Why wouldn’t Rachel just shut up already? She wasn’t helping. 

Dr. Tom was chuckling. “It often runs in families, yes. When did you get your glasses, Rachel? You were a little younger than Ben, right?”

“Yeah, I was like, ten?” Rachel answered. “Hey, Mom, can I get contacts yet?”

“Not right now, Rach,” Mrs. Cohen rubbed her temple. “When you turn eighteen, we’ll talk.” 

Ben knew that Rachel wore her glasses all the time, so if she had the same problem with her eyes that he did, he was likely facing a similar fate. The thought made him want to cry. “Myopia?” He tested the word out. 

“It means nearsighted,” Dr. Tom explained. “You probably noticed that things aren’t as clear when they’re far away, right?”

“Only the stuff that’s like, too far for anyone to see clearly,” Ben replied. “Like… if I’m sitting in the back row at a play or something.” 

“When you get your new glasses, you’ll be able to see the actors onstage, even from the back row,” said Dr. Tom. Ben stared at her. Surely she was joking. “The opposite is called hyperopia, which means farsighted, meaning those folks have difficulty seeing things that are up close. And astigmatism basically means there’s a little problem with the curve of your eye, so things are fuzzier than they should be,” she added before he could ask. “You’d have to wear glasses all the time.”

“Even in the pool?” 

“No, not in the pool or the shower,” Dr. Tom grinned. “But whenever you’re awake and not in the water. School, being on the computer, playing video games, watching TV, reading, playing sports—”

“I don’t like sports,” Ben reminded her. 

“You still have to do P.E., duh,” Rachel interjected. “And you have to wear them All. The. Time. Like me, and like Mom. And like Dad—”

Mrs. Cohen gave her a stern look. “That’s enough, Rachel.” 

“Sor-ry.”

“Do you have any more questions for me, Ben?” Asked Dr. Tom. She was being so kind, and it wasn’t her fault that Ben’s stupid eyes were broken, but he still felt frustrated. He shook his head, and she went on, “well, in that case, I’ll send your prescription to the lab, and you have a very important job to do for me.”

Ben eyed her with suspicion. “Yeah?”

“I need you to pick out your favorite frames, any kind you like.”

“Ooh!” Rachel exclaimed, “can we go to Fancy Francy’s? They have the best frames there! All the theater stars get their glasses at Fancy Francy’s.”

Ben made a face. Wasn’t Fancy Francy’s for old ladies? They were known for having weird glasses with rainbows and rhinestones. He’d walked by there when he’d picked up Rachel’s birthday cheesecake from the bakery next door. 

“Insurance doesn’t cover Fancy Francy’s,” sighed Mrs. Cohen. “When you have your own job and make your own money, you can get frames there. We’ll look at the selection here, thanks, Dr. Tom.”

Climbing out of the big chair at last, Ben followed his mother and sister back to the lobby, noticing hundreds upon hundreds of glasses frames lining the walls. Mrs. Cohen went to speak to the receptionist, and Ben scanned the collection, hoping something would catch his eye. 

He picked up a pair of square, tortoiseshell glasses, trying them on in front of the mirror. Ew. He looked like an old man. No thanks. A pair of gold aviators also got rejected, as did the clear plastic ones, the rimless ones, and some black plastic pair that made him look like one of those nerds on TV. He sighed, feeling hopeless. 

“Benji! Come here!” Rachel, heedless of the attention the volume of her voice brought, waved to him from across the room. “Check it out!” 

Ben went to the area his sister was browsing. “Yeah?”

“What about these? They’re your favorite color.” Rachel handed him a pair of glasses he hadn’t seen yet. They were relatively simple— round frames, made of wire— but the metal was bright red, the color of a fire truck or a strawberry. Slipping the hooks over his ears, he admired himself in the mirror wearing the red glasses. 

“Huh,” he mused. They didn’t look bad. They looked… kind of good, actually. Ben didn’t want to get glasses at all, but… if it couldn’t be avoided, these were his favorite color, which helped. Rachel was always telling him he had a “square jaw” (whatever that meant), and the round frames made his face look sort of… more balanced than before? Was that a thing? 

“If you find ones you really like, you can get new lenses put in the old frames,” advised Rachel, standing by his side in the mirror. “I’ve done it before. Or you can get new frames every time. That’s the best part— picking out frames.” She grinned, making her nose crinkle up. “You’re gonna love having glasses, I promise. You’re gonna be able to see so much better, and you won’t have those headaches anymore. And if any of the kids at school make fun of you, I’ll beat ‘em up.” 

Ben smiled back at his sister. “Thanks, Rach.”

“So what d’you think? Did I pick a winner for you? Am I the best big sister ever?” Rachel wrapped one arm around Ben’s shoulder, giving him a sideways squeeze.