something. “The latest mystery novel by Marty Leigh just came out. I’d like that.”
Saundra smiled, closing her compact mirror with a click. Did she really think she could make points with me so easily?
“How are you doing in school?” Daddy asked. “Good grades? Lots of friends?”
I told him about my B+ average, but I didn’t tell him about my ongoing journal writing or about Jared.
At supper, Stephie sat with Carrie and me. Her nose was red from too much blowing, but her eyes looked less swollen now. When the caterer came around to get our beverage orders, Stephie ordered a soda, then looked at her dad to see if he would disapprove. Uncle Jack didn’t say a word. His usual fun-loving smile seemed to have disappeared.
“Mom would never let me drink pop at meals,” Stephie whispered to us. “Things are going to be different without her.”
I nearly choked on my ice water. I couldn’t imagine being seven years old and motherless.
“Things changed at our house when Daddy left, but not that much,” Carrie spoke up. I wondered if she truly remembered.
After the lemon angel food cake was served for dessert, Grandpa signaled for everyone’s attention. “My granddaughter Holly will be celebrating her thirteenth birthday tomorrow. Please join me in singing the birthday song.”
He motioned for me to stand while they sang. Relatives I’d never met and friends of Uncle Jack’s sang “Happy Birthday to You” with amazing gusto. I glanced at Daddy. He winked at me. Mom, at the other end of the long table, beamed with pride. Some birthday party! I should have been eating ice cream with Jared right about now.
Suddenly I felt ashamed. Aunt Marla was gone, and all I could think about was missing a boy. What was wrong with me? What was I thinking?
Late that night, lying awake in Grandpa’s big house, I stared at the shadows dancing eerily on the ceiling. In a few minutes I’d be a teenager. “Dear Lord,” I prayed, “let this be my magical night.”
He knew what I meant.
The next morning I woke with a jolt. A small backbone pressed against me. It was Carrie’s. I lay still in the quiet. The table clock’s ticking soothed me. Today was Valentine’s Day. My day.
Uncle Jack and our cousins came over for breakfast. The boys wolfed down their pancakes, and Uncle Jack said, “Slow down, fellas.” Usually he would have made a joke of the boys gobbling down their food like so many turkeys, or something like that.
I remembered why we’d called them stair-step cousins. Sitting across from them was like looking at a descending scale. Stan first, then Phil, then Mark. Little Stephanie last.
Grandpa came downstairs carrying a box wrapped in bright pink-and-red paper. He planted a wet kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, Holly-Heart.”
Inside, a huge white teddy bear stared up at me. Grandma had cross-stitched a red heart on him, and a ten-dollar bill shaped like a bow tie was pinned under his chin.
“Thanks.” I hugged the bear first, then Grandpa and Grandma.
“What’s his name?” Stephie asked.
“I’ll have to think about it first. Let’s see what kind of personality he has.” I pulled out my chair for Grandpa. “How did you know what I wanted?”
“A little bird flew around and chirped it in this ear.” He pulled on his left ear.
“Oh, Grandpa,” Carrie said. “You’re just teasing.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Grandma hurried to the living room.
“Happy birthday, Holly.” It was Daddy—and his new wife.
“Come in,” I said shyly, inching toward them.
Daddy pulled an envelope out of his pocket. It was a gift certificate to a national chain of bookstores. “You can get that mystery book you wanted and many more,” he said with a grin.
“You should be able to buy an entire month’s worth,” Saundra said, smiling too broadly.
“Thanks, this is fabulous.” The words choked in my throat.
Carrie lost interest quickly and disappeared upstairs with the
Saundra smiled, closing her compact mirror with a click. Did she really think she could make points with me so easily?
“How are you doing in school?” Daddy asked. “Good grades? Lots of friends?”
I told him about my B+ average, but I didn’t tell him about my ongoing journal writing or about Jared.
At supper, Stephie sat with Carrie and me. Her nose was red from too much blowing, but her eyes looked less swollen now. When the caterer came around to get our beverage orders, Stephie ordered a soda, then looked at her dad to see if he would disapprove. Uncle Jack didn’t say a word. His usual fun-loving smile seemed to have disappeared.
“Mom would never let me drink pop at meals,” Stephie whispered to us. “Things are going to be different without her.”
I nearly choked on my ice water. I couldn’t imagine being seven years old and motherless.
“Things changed at our house when Daddy left, but not that much,” Carrie spoke up. I wondered if she truly remembered.
After the lemon angel food cake was served for dessert, Grandpa signaled for everyone’s attention. “My granddaughter Holly will be celebrating her thirteenth birthday tomorrow. Please join me in singing the birthday song.”
He motioned for me to stand while they sang. Relatives I’d never met and friends of Uncle Jack’s sang “Happy Birthday to You” with amazing gusto. I glanced at Daddy. He winked at me. Mom, at the other end of the long table, beamed with pride. Some birthday party! I should have been eating ice cream with Jared right about now.
Suddenly I felt ashamed. Aunt Marla was gone, and all I could think about was missing a boy. What was wrong with me? What was I thinking?
Late that night, lying awake in Grandpa’s big house, I stared at the shadows dancing eerily on the ceiling. In a few minutes I’d be a teenager. “Dear Lord,” I prayed, “let this be my magical night.”
He knew what I meant.
The next morning I woke with a jolt. A small backbone pressed against me. It was Carrie’s. I lay still in the quiet. The table clock’s ticking soothed me. Today was Valentine’s Day. My day.
Uncle Jack and our cousins came over for breakfast. The boys wolfed down their pancakes, and Uncle Jack said, “Slow down, fellas.” Usually he would have made a joke of the boys gobbling down their food like so many turkeys, or something like that.
I remembered why we’d called them stair-step cousins. Sitting across from them was like looking at a descending scale. Stan first, then Phil, then Mark. Little Stephanie last.
Grandpa came downstairs carrying a box wrapped in bright pink-and-red paper. He planted a wet kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, Holly-Heart.”
Inside, a huge white teddy bear stared up at me. Grandma had cross-stitched a red heart on him, and a ten-dollar bill shaped like a bow tie was pinned under his chin.
“Thanks.” I hugged the bear first, then Grandpa and Grandma.
“What’s his name?” Stephie asked.
“I’ll have to think about it first. Let’s see what kind of personality he has.” I pulled out my chair for Grandpa. “How did you know what I wanted?”
“A little bird flew around and chirped it in this ear.” He pulled on his left ear.
“Oh, Grandpa,” Carrie said. “You’re just teasing.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Grandma hurried to the living room.
“Happy birthday, Holly.” It was Daddy—and his new wife.
“Come in,” I said shyly, inching toward them.
Daddy pulled an envelope out of his pocket. It was a gift certificate to a national chain of bookstores. “You can get that mystery book you wanted and many more,” he said with a grin.
“You should be able to buy an entire month’s worth,” Saundra said, smiling too broadly.
“Thanks, this is fabulous.” The words choked in my throat.
Carrie lost interest quickly and disappeared upstairs with the
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