Eleven-year-old Harmony Granger stirred her mashed potatoes around her plate with her fork. It seemed like her mother was always making mashed potatoes. Harmony hated mashed potatoes. But what did it matter? As long as Olivia, Harmony’s fourteen-year-old sister, and Judson, Harmony’s eight-year-old brother, would eat them, it was overlooked that Harmony loathed them.             

“Harmony, stop playing with your mashed potatoes and eat them, please,” said Harmony’s mother, giving her daughter a disapproving look.             

Mrs. Granger was a very busy woman. She ran a homeless shelter in Newman Heights, where the Grangers lived. On top of that, she was the official third grade room mother, a team mom for Judson’s soccer, football, basketball, baseball and hockey teams, took care of her sister’s two little girls, Harmony’s cousins Lucy and Alla, so Harmony’s Aunt Ivy could finish up at work, and acted as a taxi, shuttling Judson off to the playground and to his sports practices and friends houses. She drove Olivia to all her dance classes, tap lessons, drama rehearsals, vocal classes and figure skating sessions.             

All Harmony had ever asked for were karate lessons but her parents had said no, because it was too expensive right then (“Why doesn’t Olivia cancel some of her activities then?”), there was too much going on at the moment (“Not for me! I don’t have any activities at all!”), and Harmony’s mother was tired of driving her kids everywhere (“You never drive me anywhere because I have nowhere to go!”). Mr. and Mrs. Granger always went on about how they weren’t going to drop any of Olivia’s activities (It’s very important for her to take all the classes she is-it opens so many doors for her career in the future.”) or take Judson off some of his teams (“He needs to exercise and being exposed to all different kinds of sports is good for him.”).             

“Harmony?”            

 “What?” Harmony looked up, startled. Her parents and sister were staring at her. Judson was busy wolfing down his mashed potatoes, which he had mixed with chicken and drowned in ketchup.            

 “What in the world are you doing?” Mrs. Granger asked. Harmony looked down. She had arranged her mashed potatoes in a series of mountains and was proceeding to place peas on each mountaintop.            

 “Oh, uh…” Harmony stuttered, flustered. “I didn’t realize I was doing that…”            

 “How many times have we asked you not to play with your food?” Mr. Granger scolded. “You don’t see Olivia or Judson playing with their food, do you. We just put it on their plates and they eat right up.”            

 “Sorry,” Harmony apologized. “You know I don’t like mashed potatoes.” She turned to her mother, who rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I thought you were making ravioli with that yummy meat sauce,” Harmony said, her stomach rumbling with the thought.             

“I was going to, but my plans changed,” Mrs. Granger said with little patience. “Sometimes things change, Harmony. And you have to learn to deal with them.”            

 “But I hate mashed potatoes!” Harmony whimpered. “More than anything!”             

“Well, do you expect that I’m not going to make a perfectly good food just because one person in our family doesn’t like it?” asked an annoyed Mrs. Granger.             

“What about tomato soup?” accused Harmony. “I love tomato soup! But you never make it, just because Olivia doesn’t like it.”             

“We’re not talking about that, Harmony,” insisted Mrs. Granger. “We’re talking about the fact that you refuse to eat perfectly good mashed potatoes.”             

“Well that’s because I hate them!” exclaimed Harmony, frustrated. “Just like Olivia hates tomato soup. She’s the only one in the family who does, but do you ever make it? No. Of course not-”             

“Ahem.”             

Harmony and her mother turned to look in the direction of the noise. Mr. Granger was clearing his throat.             “Well,” he said. “Hate to interrupt that lovely discussion, but Mom and I have some important news.” He turned to look at his wife, who smiled at him encouragingly. Harmony’s stomach rumbled loudly.             

“Harmony, if you aren’t going to eat the mashed potatoes, give them to Judson,” Mrs. Granger said, sounding extremely wiped out.            

 “Yum,” agreed Judson, licking his lips. He held out his plate and Harmony scraped her mashed potatoes onto it with disgust.             

“Find something else to eat,” Mr. Granger told her. “Mom isn’t going to fix anything else.”            

 “I know,” replied Harmony. She jumped out of her chair and walked over to the refrigerator.             

“Hmmm…” she murmured, pulling both doors open.             

“Harmony, don’t do that, you waste electricity,” Mrs. Granger said, sighing.            

 “Judson always does it,” Harmony complained.             

“But Judson does it to cool off when he comes home from practice,” Mrs. Granger insisted.             

“Okay,” cried Harmony. She snatched a Klondike Bar out of the freezer and let the door close.             

“Harmony’s eating a Klondike Bar,” Olivia announced as Harmony pulled back the wrapper and bit into the soft vanilla-chocolatey goodness.             

“Harmony, put it back,” Mr. Granger said.             

“But you told me to get something to eat,” Harmony protested.
“Put it back and fix yourself a peanut butter sandwich,” Mr. Granger said firmly.             

“I want a Klondike Bar!” cried Judson, stuffing the last of Harmony’s mashed potatoes into his mouth.             

“Give it to Judson,” Mrs. Granger told Harmony.             

“What?” exclaimed Harmony. “Why does he get one?”             

“I haven’t seen him making a fuss over something simple like mashed potatoes,” Mrs. Granger said simply.             Grudgingly, Harmony took out the jar of Jif Extra-Creamy peanut butter and spread it onto a slice of bread. Not bothering to pull out another slice, she folded the bread in half and stomped back to the table.            

 “Here,” she muttered, shoving the Klondike Bar at her brother.             

“Yum,” said Judson eagerly.             

Harmony bit into the peanut butter sandwich and frowned. Peanut butter wasn’t far from mashed potatoes on the list of foods she didn’t like.             

“What was your news, Daddy?” Olivia asked sugar-sweetly, putting a huge forkful of mashed potato into her mouth.  “Oh yeah,” Mr. Granger said. “Thanks for reminding me, darling.” He smiled at Olivia and his eyes skimmed over Harmony before they stopped on Judson. “Guess what, Jud? Grandma is coming to live with us!”             

“Grandma?” Harmony asked, choking on a chunk of peanut butter. This wasn’t the news she had expected to hear.  “Ever since Grandpa died, she’s been kind of lonely, so instead of putting her in a retirement home, Dad and I decided it would be fun to have her come to Newman Heights, to live with us,” Mrs. Granger explained.             

“But Grandma’s an old bat,” exclaimed Olivia.             

“Yeah,” agreed Harmony, glad that Olivia was on her side for once. “She’s always pulling out a hankie and wiping my face like it’s dirty and pinching my cheeks and calling me Harmy. And that was when Grandpa was alive. Now whenever I see her she bursts into tears and hugs me and wants me to give her foot massages.”             

“Harmony!” exclaimed Mrs. Granger. “How dare you speak that way about Grandma. That was very rude. Apologize to Dad this instant.”             

“But-but…” stammered Harmony, enraged. “But Olivia started it. She called Grandma an old bat!”             

“Harmony,” said Mrs. Granger in a warning tone.            

 “Sorry Dad,” muttered Harmony angrily.             

“What about Grammy in Florida?” asked Judson. “Is she coming too? I like her. She gives me five dollar bills and comes to all my games.”             

“No, Jud,” Mrs. Granger explained. “Grammy is staying with Grandpop in Florida. They’ll come and visit for Christmas like they usually do.”            

 “Aw man,” Judson grumbled, pounding his fist on the table. “Dang it.”             

“Stinks, doesn’t it,” Harmony sympathized.             

“Harmony Granger, do you need to be excused?” Mrs. Granger exploded. “I’ve had enough of your rudeness for one night.”

 “I was just-”            

 “Enough. You heard your mother. Go to your room,” ordered Mr. Granger.             

By now Harmony knew better than to argue. Without another word, she left the kitchen and took the stairs two by two up to the second floor. She ran angrily past her parents room and rolled her eyes as she passed Judson’s, which was across the hall. Her sister’s fat cat, Momo, darted out from the bathroom and Harmony let out a shriek as she tripped over him.             

“Harmony, I know you’re angry but please don’t throw a fit!” called Mrs. Granger from downstairs. Harmony stomped to the end of the hall and threw open the door to her bedroom. After a moment, she changed her mind and, snatching up Little Women, the book she was currently reading, she left her room and dashed up the stairs to the third floor.  There were only three rooms on the third floor: Olivia’s vast bedroom, a small, dingy guest bedroom, and Olivia’s bathroom. Harmony headed straight for the bathroom and locked the door after her.             

Olivia’s bathroom was fairly big and cluttered with makeup and hair accessories. Harmony climbed onto the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror.             

Harmony was average sized, for eleven, according to her mother. She was tall, in her opinion, and lanky, but not slender, like Olivia. Olivia was gorgeous and the spitting image of Mrs. Granger, with sleek blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. She was tall also and had an amazing fashion sense. Judson, on the other hand, looked more like Mr. Granger. He was tall for eight–the Grangers were a tall family–and had dark brown hair that seemed to always be getting in his eyes. He was missing his front teeth and when he smiled, dimples appeared among his freckles. But Harmony was different. She didn’t look like her mother or her father. She had reddish-brown hair that fell in tight waves and–no matter how hard she combed it–always frizzed up. Her eyes were essentially a sort of hazel color but sometimes appeared green and sometimes brown. In Harmony’s opinion, her best feature was two perfectly even rows of pearly whites–she would never need braces like Olivia did.             

Harmony eased herself off the counter and walked to the far end of the bathroom, sinking her feet into the fluffy white bath mat that took up most of the floor. She pulled open the window and hoisted herself up onto the ledge, clutching her book tightly in her right hand.             

Gripping the window frame firmly, Harmony eased first her left and then her right leg out of the window so she was perched on one of the sturdy branches of the ancient oak tree outside. Then she gently slid into a crouch and let go of the window so that she was completely on the tree. Then she began to climb.             

Down below, two small boys chased each other up the street–one on a scooter and the other rollerblading. Harmony reached her favorite perch, high above the roof of her house, and sat very still–her legs dangling–watching the boys. She watched as they tagged each other and shrieked in delight; she watched as they fell onto their front lawn and wrestled each other with great joy; she watched as a great oaf of a dog came running out and the boys cried out in excitement as the jumped on it, and she chuckled. The boys reminded Harmony of herself and Olivia when they were very young–before Judson was born. They used to have great fun together, playing dolls and riding their tricycles together.             

But when Judson was born, all that was forgotten. Jud, being the baby, got all the attention. And when Olivia started kindergarten soon after than, the attention was riveted on her as well. Harmony, three at the time, was lost somewhere in the midst.             

“Harmony?” came a voice from somewhere down below.            

 Harmony, startled, nearly jumped, but caught herself, remembering she was on a tree.             

“Harmony?” came the voice again. “I know you’re up there! Come down!”             

Harmony squinted in the settling darkness. “What do you want, Olivia?” she called accusingly.             “Mom wants to have a family meeting and you’re going to be in big trouble if you’re aren’t there in two minutes!” Olivia cried gleefully. Harmony heard a clunk as Olivia wrenched the bathroom window shut.             “No!” exclaimed Harmony. Hastily, she made her way down the tree until she reached the branch closest to the window. Just as she thought, Olivia had closed the bathroom window and locked it. Harmony was stuck in a tree three stories off the ground.             Harmony looked around. There was no one in sight. How was she going to get down? She knew her mother was going to be angry when Harmony wasn’t there. Mrs. Granger was very picky about family meetings. She would be furious if Harmony wasn’t there. And surely Harmony wouldn’t be able to tell her that it was because Olivia had locked the bathroom window. First off, Mrs. Granger wouldn’t believe that her precious Olivia would do anything like that, and second, she would be even more angry that Harmony was out on the tree.             With a sinking feeling, Harmony realized that her only choice was to slide down the trunk of the tree. She threw her book to the ground, realizing she hadn’t read a single page, and scrambled down to the lowest branch, somewhere between the second and third stories. Clenching her teeth, she wrapped her arms around the thick trunk of the tree and swung her feet off the branch.             “Aahhh!” Harmony exclaimed in surprise. She had nearly fallen off the tree and was hanging by her feet, her arms flailing wildly around.             With a disgruntled shove, she manage to get her arms around the tree again, and pushed herself down, the bark scraping her skin with every movement.             When Harmony was nearly five feet off the ground, she let go of the tree and felt herself fall through the air. She landed with a soft thump in the grass and, trying to ignore the stinging sensation that she was feeling from the numerous scratches on her arms and legs, tore across the lawn to the front door.             Harmony burst into her house and listened for voices. She heard her mother from the den, and scampered towards it, stopping for a moment outside the door to listen.             “…and I know it’s a pain, but I’ll need you guys to pitch in to help move Harmony’s stuff…” Mrs. Granger was saying.             Harmony burst in angrily and cried out, “What are you talking about? Why are we moving my stuff?”             “You would have known if you’d been here on time,” Mrs. Granger said coldly. “You’re grounded for a week, young lady.” Spotting Harmony’s scratches, she sighed with exasperation and simply said, “I’m not even going to ask,” before turning back to the rest of the family.             “Sit down, Harmony,” said Mr. Granger flatly, frowning at her. Harmony leapt into her favorite leather arm chair and snuggled contently under a warm fleece blanket.             “Hey!” Judson snapped. “Momo was sitting there!” He held up the cat, which was looking very uncomfortable squashed in his arms, it’s fat wobbling.             “I’m sitting here, Judson,” Harmony said patiently. “Momo’s sitting with you.”             “Momo wants his own seat!” wailed Judson, shaking the cat horribly. Momo meowed and tried to scratch Judson.             “Harmony, please sit somewhere else,” Mrs. Granger said with another sigh, as if it was Harmony’s fault that Judson was having a fit.             “But Mom, that’s completely not fair!” insisted Harmony, sinking deeper into the arm chair.             “Do you need to go to your room again?” asked Mr. Granger.             Olivia snickered. “For like, the last time ever,” she said under her breath.             Harmony whipped her head around. “What’s she talking about?” she demanded.             “Do I need to ask you again or should you just leave?” Mrs. Granger was growing impatient.             Heaving a huge sigh to show her mother how unfair she thought the whole thing was, Harmony sat instead in the rickety old rocking chair in the corner and Judson dropped Momo in the arm chair. Momo promptly leapt off and scurried out of the room. Harmony did not dare get back in the arm chair and stayed put, fidgeting uncomfortably.             “As I was saying,” Mrs. Granger continued without another glance at Harmony. “I know you guys hate it, but it’s for Grandma’s sake, okay.”             “Hate what?” Harmony questioned anxiously.             “Mom says we have to help move all your stuff to the third floor,” Judson informed her sullenly.             “What?” Harmony was still confused. “Why are we moving my stuff to the third floor?”             “Because Grandma’s getting your room and you’re getting the guest bedroom!” exclaimed Olivia gleefully, pleased to be the bearer of such horrible news.             Harmony was quiet for a few seconds, as the news had not really sunk in. Then she exploded. “Why do I have to move up to the guest bedroom? Why can’t Jud or Olivia? Why is it always me that everything bad happens to?”             “Harmony Granger, control yourself,” shouted Mr. Granger. “You are moving up to the third floor. End of discussion.”             “Why me?” Harmony wailed pitifully.             “Grandma has a bad knee,” Judson informed Harmony cheerfully. “She can’t climb all the way to the third floor.”             “But what about you?” Harmony retorted, glaring at her brother.             “I want to keep my room,” Judson told her, grinning his sweet, dimpled smile, which Harmony found infuriating. She turned to her mother, steaming.             “Oh, so all Judson has to do is say, ‘I want my room’ and you decide that I’ll have to move?” she demanded.             “If you’d been here-” Mrs. Granger started, determined to use Harmony’s tardiness against her.             “If I’d been here it wouldn’t have made a difference! You give Judson and Olivia whatever they want! I’m always second in line in your opinion. I get all of Olivia’s hand-me-downs, you let Judson and Olivia choose what activities they’d like to do and then say ‘Sorry, Harmony, we haven’t got any more time for anything you want to do’. If Olivia wants to have a big birthday party, I don’t get one because she’s already had one! If I want to invite a friend over you never let me because Jud or Olivia’s friend is already over! You always listen to their ideas before mine! Sometimes I wish I was part of a different family! No I take that back! I always wish I was part of a different family!” Harmony felt a feeling of relief wash over her. She had been holding that in for ages. At the same time, she was dreading what was coming next.             Judson burst into tears and Mrs. Granger went over to comfort him. Olivia stared accusingly at Harmony.             “That’s quite enough out of you, Harmony,” said Mr. Granger harshly. “You are excused. Go to your room. I’ll be up to take your bed apart in a few minutes. Start moving your stuff up to the third floor.”             Harmony stood up and stiffly walked out, silent tears streaming down her face. She thundered up the stairs and burst into her room. This was the last time itwould be her room.             She looked around. Her parents had never really let her decorate it nicely (“We’ve already spent a ton of money on Olivia’s room.”) but Harmony loved it just the same. It was small, the smallest bedroom in the house, apart from the guest bedroom, or, as she should probably start calling it, her new bedroom. The walls were jus an ordinary white (“When am I going to find the time to paint it, Harmony? I’ve got much too much to do.”) but Harmony had plastered them with posters full of inspirational sayings and pictures of her favorite poets. There was also a life size poster of Jet Li, the kung fu movie master. Jet Li was Harmony’s idol.             A large window took up most of the far wall and beneath it was Harmony’s bed. It was a misshapen old twin bed that had once been Olivia’s. Harmony had saved up her own money (“We just can’t afford it right now with all the things Jud and Olivia are doing.”) mowing lawns and taking care of her neighbor’s cats. It was a deep purple, Harmony’s absolute favorite color, with a pink stripe occuring every so often. Half a dozen or so pillows, all ones Olivia had thrown out when they became too old, sat at the head of the bed along with Harmony’s entire collection of stuffed animals. An old blue carpet which had been Judson’s before he had begged for a new one took up most of the floor. Harmony had wanted a purple one but her mother had simply told her that she was not going to waste money on a new carpet when Harmony had a perfectly good one already.             

Harmony’s desk, which Mr. Granger had built for Olivia but given to Harmony when Olivia had found one in a catologue that she liked better, sat against another wall. Harmony had drawn purple squiggles on it with a Sharpie and it was covered in books and papers of all sorts. Harmony picked up a Harry Potterbook and set it back down with a sigh.            

 “Harmony?”             

“Come in,” called Harmony grimly. She fell back onto her bed, knowing her mother would be upset that she had not yet started moving her things.            

 “Harmony,” Mrs. Granger said again as she opened the door. She strode into Harmony’s room and sat down at her desk chair.            

 “I’m sorry,” Harmony said hastily, saving her mother the trouble of yelling at her. She jumped off her bed and began to gather her things off the floor. “I’m taking my stuff up now.”             

“No, Harmony, sit down,” commanded Mrs. Granger, yet her voice was oddly gentle. “I’m  sorry. I know I get irritated with you a lot and you can be pretty, well, infuriating sometimes, for lack of a better word.”             

Harmony’s mouth hung open. Was her mother actually apologizing to her?             

“I know that sometimes you ask me for things and I don’t give them to you,” Mrs. Granger continued, staring at the floor. “it’s just that sometimes we don’t have enough money for everything all you kids want to do. And I don’t want any of you to miss out on anything. I hadn’t realized that, well, by giving Olivia and Jud all the opportunities they deserve, I was depriving you of so many things. And I’m really sorry for that. I promise that we will be making some changes. Olivia and Judson are doing too much, and I want you to be able to do some things too. Those karate lessons you’ve been talking about…”             

“Oh really!?!” exclaimed Harmony with a mix of excitement and puzzlement. “Thanks. Mom!” She leaped up and threw her arms around her mother, who seem slightly thrown off, but returned the hug.            

 “And Harmony, another thing. I know that Grandma coming here is going to change a lot of things and we’re going to have to adapt a bit. That includes moving up to the third floor,” Mrs. Granger said softly. Harmony looked at the floor. “But we’re not just putting you up there because Judson doesn’t want to,” she continued. “Jud’s still little. He gets up during the night and gets scared. He needs to be close to us. You’re older–almost a teenager–and Dad and I know you can handle it. That’s why we’re asking you to move up there.”             

“But that room is so tiny and dingy,” Harmony said and was immediately sorry. She knew that now she would be yelled at for sure.             

“I know, and that’s why we are going to spruce it up,” Mrs. Granger said eagerly. “That room is way overdue for a makeover. I thought that this weekend we could take a trip to Home Depot–just you, me, and Olivia if she wants to–and pick up some purple paint. And Olivia has a whole box full of Pottery Barn Teen magazines that you could look through for some new stuff. By the time we’re done with it, that room won’t know what hit it.”             

Harmony laughed. “Are you serious, Mom?” she asked, awestruck.            

 “Yep,” Mrs. Granger chuckled. “And on a more serious note, I never want you to wish to be in a different family again, honey. I’m sorry that the way we’ve acted has made you feel that way, and I hope that Dad and my new take on things will change that. We’ve been downstairs having a talk, and we’re both terribly sorry.”             

“That’s okay, Mom,” Harmony said, her eyes lighting up. “I understand.”             

“Ohh,” Mrs. Granger said, flustered, as tears began to pour down her face.             

“Don’t cry, Mom,” Harmony said, giving her mother a big smile. She wiped the tears off Mrs. Granger’s face and looked back at her happily. “When’s Grandma coming?” she asked.            

 “Day after tomorrow,” sniffled Mrs. Granger, getting up.             

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” exclaimed Harmony. “Round everyone up–lets get moving!”