Give and Take by Laura Dower

few years though, as you know. Sometimes Eleanor calls other people by her daughter’s name by mistake. It’s partly the Alzheimer’s and partly—well, she’s just a little sad at the holidays. She wishes her real daughter were here, I think.”
    “Doesn’t she remember me?” Madison asked.
    Mr. Lynch nodded. “Of course she does. Why don’t we walk to her room together?”
    Madison nodded and they proceeded down the hall.
    Halfway there, Mrs. Romano turned around. “Madison?” she said. “I can’t believe you remembered that gingersnaps are my favorites.”
    Madison looked up and smiled. “Do you like them?” she asked, happy to hear her real name.
    Mr. Lynch smiled, too. “Can I leave you two alone together now?” she asked and turned back down the hall.
    Madison nodded again. “Thanks,” she said, waving.
    Mrs. Romano huffed. “Leave us alone together? Well, of course you can leave us alone together! What do you think—I bite?”
    She squeezed Madison’s shoulder as if they were in on the joke together.
    Madison giggled.
    “Have I ever told you the story about my snow globe?” Mrs. Romano asked.
    Of course, Madison had heard it before.
    “I think so,” Madison said. “But I would love to hear it again.”
    “I’m so glad you’re my friend,” Mrs. Romano said as they walked inside. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday afternoon.”

Chapter 11
    Holidays
Friday turned out great. Mrs. Romano loved the cookies. She added another bird picture to her wall. We hung it up together.
    On Saturday I went to another hockey game with everyone. Our team played the Rockets. We lost. Hart is still sick with the flu but he played anyway. Egg was acting like a moron, as usual. Drew was nice. He said he’d make a goal for me, whatever that means. He always says stuff like that. But he didn’t make any goals. Neither did Hart. Luckily Ivy wasn’t there drooling over him.
    Aimee and Fiona sat together at the game, but they weren’t ignoring me. At first. Then we rode home together and even though I was sitting in between them, they laughed the whole time like they were sharing some private joke and I was not invited. What’s that about?
    Rude Awakening:
If I’m in the middle, then why do I feel so left out?
    On Friday Mom promised—well, half-promised—that she’d go to the Winter Jubilee concert with Dad, but now she didn’t mention it all weekend. I’m worried that she won’t—and I don’t want anyone to tell me to stop worrying. Why did I get my hopes up in the first place? I will probably be the only kid at the concert without both parents there. I know it.
    Oh yeah—and I heard on the TV that the weather forecast now says NO SNOW AT ALL!
    Excuse me, but what good are the holidays without snow?
    “Madison, are you going to school today or what?” Mom asked. She rattled a few dishes as she unloaded the dishwasher.
    Madison quickly hit ESCAPE , which turned on her screen saver. A photograph of a baby snow leopard filled the monitor screen.
    “I lost track of time,” Madison explained as she brought her cereal dish over to the sink and shut down her laptop.
    Mom tapped her foot. “This is getting to be a habit with you, my dear.” The clock said 7:50 A.M .
    Despite the “no snow” forecast, the wind was blustery outside. Mom offered to give Madison a quick ride to school so she wouldn’t have to walk.
    “I can’t believe it’s the holiday season again,” Mom said as they pulled out of the driveway. “Where does the time go?”
    “Mom, you’re not going to go to the Winter Jubilee concert with Dad, are you?” Madison asked.
    “Whoa,” Mom said. “You’re got a lot on your mind this morning. Where did that question come from? I told you I would think about it.”
    “For how long?” Madison asked. She stared out the car window at the other houses in the neighborhood. Everyone had put up decorations by now. Some homes had icicle lights hanging from the roofs