“ ‘THE MOST IMPORTANT PRESENTATION OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE,’ ” Olivia and Ivy read in unison.
Ivy’s dad let out a small laugh. “I thought you were only saying that,” he said.
Olivia stepped forward professionally. As Mick Jagger sang, “I see a red door and I want to paint it black,” the screen dissolved into an old blackand-white etching of some modest huts that Olivia had found in a library book. “The year is 1666,” she began. “A small band of Transylvanian exiles settles on a very special piece of land. They decide to name it Franklin Grove.”
Ivy was seriously impressed that her sister had memorized her lines. Ivy had tried, but she’d ended up having to write notes on her palm. “That same year,” Ivy said, glancing down at her hand, “across the ocean...”
The screen transitioned to a similar woodcut, but this one was of a much bigger city, all its buildings covered with inky flames that licked the air. “The Great Fire of London wipes out the homes of seventy thousand innocent people!”
On the soundtrack, there were shouts and screams. Ivy noticed her father wincing, which she took as an encouraging sign.
“And that,” said Olivia, in an uncharacteristically low voice, “is merely where the differences begin.”
“Here’s what happens at the highest point in Europe,” said Ivy, as the screen showed an avalanche threatening to engulf a group of downhill skiers.
“Here’s what happens at the highest point in Franklin Grove,” said Olivia, as the screen displayed a stunning picture Sophia had taken of the Vega house at dusk, the wide, crimson sky behind it.
“Here’s what happens when people cheer in Franklin Grove,” Ivy went on. The screen changed to a picture of Olivia standing atop a pyramid of Franklin Grove Devils cheerleaders, her fist held triumphantly over her head. Ivy could swear she could see a glimmer of pride in her father’s eyes. It’s working! she thought hopefully.
“And here’s what happens when people cheer in Europe,” said Olivia. On screen, a crowd at a soccer match had descended into a chaotic riot.
Now came Ivy’s favorite part of the whole presentation. “Here are the sorts of things that happen if we stay in Franklin Grove,” she declared. The screen started moving from image to image, without any accompaniment other than the rocking chords of the Rolling Stones: Ivy in her wine-colored strapless ball gown, standing with her tuxedoed father’s arms around her before the All Hallows’ Ball; the black-and-white Vamp magazine picture of Ivy and Olivia, without any makeup, looking at each other in the guest bathroom mirror; her father, clapping for Olivia after she passed the three trials and was initiated by the Vampire Round Table; Ivy, Sophia, Olivia, and Brendan with their arms around one another at Brendan’s family crypt; Ivy’s father, thoughtful in a chair in the corner of the living room while Ivy and Olivia chatted excitedly before him. The pictures went on and on.
Ivy watched her father’s face. She could tell he was moved, his eyes flickering as he leaned forward intently in his chair.
At last, Olivia stepped forward once again. “And here, Mr. Vega,” she said, “are the sorts of things that might happen if you go to Europe.”
Suddenly the soundtrack sped up crazily and its volume rose until it was an unrecognizable, screeching mess. A quick succession of images flashed on the screen: a mustachioed man running from a charging bull, two dinky European cars crashing into each other, a World War II plane dropping bombs, a wrecked apartment building in France, a soccer player with an agonized look of defeat on his face, a painting of Mount Vesuvius erupting.
The rush of images ended abruptly, along with the unbearable noise. The simple, lone guitar melody from the beginning of the song rang out plaintively, and a single phrase appeared on the black screen: Franklin Grove or Europe?
Ivy and Olivia triumphantly read the final screen that came next: “ ‘FRANKLIN GROVE!’ ”
Ivy’s father clapped enthusiastically. His face was flushed, and he had a smile that Ivy realized she hadn’t seen in weeks. “Terrific job,” he said. “What a wonderful presentation! You should share it with the Franklin Grove Chamber of Commerce.”
I knew he’d like it, Ivy thought. I knew it would work! “So we’re not moving?” she blurted.
Her father’s smile abruptly fell from his face, like a dark cloud suddenly drifting across a full moon. He dropped back into his chair and studied his hands. Olivia looked at Ivy anxiously.
“Can’t you see how much we have here, Dad?” Ivy pleaded.
“Don’t go,” Olivia said in a small voice.
“I have to,” Mr. Vega whispered. He raised his eyes to them sadly. “We have to go, Ivy. I know it’s difficult for you to accept...but you must try.”
Ivy looked at him in disbelief. Why are you being so stubborn? she thought. She tried to think of something she could say, anything that might get through to him and make him realize they couldn’t go to Europe.
Her father forced his mouth into a strained smile that seemed utterly fake compared to the one from a few moments ago. “You should try to think of all the good things about Europe,” he said hopefully.
Ivy shook her head. She turned to Olivia. “I thought he’d listen to reason. Or emotion. Or us,” she said softly. “But I guess I was wrong.”
Without another word, Ivy led her sister out of the study. She knew Olivia was struggling not to burst into tears, too.
Chapter 3
The next day at lunch with Olivia, Sophia, Camilla, and Brendan, Ivy was still in a pitch-black mood.
“My father is being impossible,” she fumed. “He’s determined to move. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do that will change his mind.”
“Have you tried biting him on the leg?” said Brendan. “My little sister, Bethany, did that once to my dad, and it really got his attention. I mean, he almost had to go to the hospital.”
Ivy couldn’t even smile. “My father doesn’t like hospitals,” she said glumly.
Across from her, Olivia moved a piece of limp broccoli around her plate with her fork. “Do you think he wants to go to Europe to get away from me?” she said quietly to her plate.
Ivy’s heart cracked open like a coffin. Sometimes she forgot that this was just as hard for Olivia as it was for her—maybe harder. “He wouldn’t do that, Olivia,” she said as reassuringly as she could. “It’s the job. It’s a really killer opportunity.”