I smiled back. “You got in?”
“Yesssss!” she cheered, suddenly leaping from her seat and jumping around the kitchen as though her sneakers had sprouted springs. “They want me! They want me!”
The kids cheered along with her — all but Vanessa, who simply sat at the kitchen table, looking serious.
Mallory stopped jumping and turned to me. “They’re offering me a full scholarship. A full scholarship!” she cried.
“Congratulations,” I said. She was so happy that it was hard not to be happy for her. I glanced at Vanessa’s serious face and sympathized with the way she must be feeling, though. She was the only one Mallory had really discussed this with. She understood what it might mean.
The next one to realize was Nicky. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said. Everyone quieted down. “That school is far away. If you decide to go, how are you going to get there every day?”
Mallory’s happy smile faded into a serious expression. “If I go, I’ll live there,” she replied.
“What?” Margo cried. “You can’t live there! You live here.”
“I live here now. But while I’m in school, I’ll live there,” Mallory said calmly.
“No!” Margo cried. “That’s no good. It would be like you weren’t our sister anymore.”
Claire ran to Mallory and threw her arms around her, pressing her face into Mallory’s side. “Don’t go,” she pleaded, then began crying.
Margo folded her arms stubbornly, but judging from her face, she was about to cave in and cry also. Nicky’s lower lip jutted forward as he, too, fought back tears.
The triplets went back to their crackers but didn’t speak. Vanessa also remained quiet.
Mallory gently unwrapped Claire from her and brushed the tears from her sister’s cheeks. “Come on, you guys!” she said, hugging Claire. “I’ll be home all the time — vacations, summer, holidays.”
“It won’t be the same!” Margo said angrily. “You don’t want to be our sister anymore!”
Mallory looked crushed by that remark so I had to say something. “Of course she’s your sister,” I told Margo. “She’ll always be your sister. This is a great opportunity for her. Riverbend is a terrific school. You should be happy that she has the chance to go.”
“Is it better than SMS?” Byron asked, challenging her.
“I think it could be, for me,” Mallory answered him.
“I doubt it,” Jordan grumbled.
“Who wants chocolate milk?” I asked, thinking it was a good moment to change the subject. They all wanted chocolate milk, of course.
After they ate, the kids put on coats and headed into the backyard. Mallory and I stayed in the kitchen. She looked at me and sighed. “I wish they’d taken the news better,” she said.
“You can’t really blame them,” I replied gently. “They don’t want you to go.”
“But they’ll get over it. If I go.” Then her concerned expression lifted. Once again, she was beaming. “I am so happy! Until I received this letter I didn’t want to admit — even to myself — how badly I wanted to be accepted. And now I’m in. I can hardly believe it.”
Neither could I. “Are you going to call everyone and tell them?” I asked.
“Do you think I should?”
“Well, don’t you at least want to tell Jessi?”
“I don’t know. I’m so happy right now. I don’t want her to spoil it.”
“She won’t want you to go,” I admitted, “but I think she’ll be happy that you’re happy.”
Mallory didn’t look sure about this. “I guess I should tell her,” she said.
“I’ll go outside to watch the kids, so you can have some privacy,” I offered.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Good luck.” I went to the hall closet for my jacket and then out the back door into the yard. Outside, the triplets, Nicky, and Vanessa were playing touch football. Margo was playing house with Claire. A cold wind made me wrap my arms around myself. Watching the kids, I thought about how they must be feeling.
I felt saddest for Claire and Vanessa. Claire was too young to understand why Mallory would want to leave. Plus, Mallory was her biggest big sister, and Claire adored her.
Vanessa was probably the closest to Mallory of all of the Pike kids. She and Mal shared a room and a love of writing. They were friends as well as sisters.
Joining Margo and Claire, I sat at the picnic table, near Claire’s new plastic playhouse. “Are you mad at Mallory?” Margo asked me.
“No,” I said.
“I am. If she doesn’t want to be my sister, I don’t want to be hers.”
“That’s not it,” I told her. “She wants to be your sister. She always will. It’s just that she also might want to go to Riverbend.”
“She can’t,” Claire said firmly. “It’s no fair.”
“Why not?”
“If she goes, we all go.” Claire’s face brightened. “I’ll go with her!”
“Don’t be dumb. You can’t go,” Margo told her.
“I’m not dumb.” Claire whacked Margo’s arm.
“Hey, stop it!” Margo cried, holding Claire’s arm.
“No hitting,” I reminded Claire. “And don’t call her dumb,” I said to Margo.
Mallory came out the back door. The look on her face told me her talk with Jessi hadn’t gone well. “Excuse me,” I said to the girls, and crossed the yard to her. “Well?”
“She makes me so angry.” Mallory was fuming. “She acted worse than Margo.”
“She did? What did she say?”
“It was the way she said it — all icy.” Mallory scrunched up her face and imitated Jessi, speaking in a cold, formal voice. “ ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for there.’ ” Mallory’s eyes went wide with indignant disbelief. “Can you believe her? What a creep.”
“Aw, come on. She just doesn’t want you to go.”
“I didn’t tell her I’ve practically decided to go,” Mallory admitted. “I only said I’d been accepted.”
“Why didn’t you tell her exactly what you’re thinking?”
“She was acting so horrible just because I was accepted. I couldn’t bring myself to say I was pretty sure I’ll be going.”
“Does that mean she thinks you might not go?”
“I told her I was still thinking about it — which is true.”
I was a little confused. “But you’re almost sure you’re going, right?”
“Right, I think,” Mallory replied. “I’m probably going.”
“She’s crazy!” Jessi declared the next day as we left SMS together. I’m sure you can guess who she was talking about.
Mallory and Kristy had gone to talk to Mrs. Fellows at Stoneybrook Manor. They wanted to work out the details of our holiday decoration project. That, of course, meant Mallory couldn’t baby-sit with me. Jessi had volunteered to go in her place.
“I mean, what does she expect to find there?” Jessi continued. “It’s just … strange to go to a boarding school, so the kids are bound to be strange too.”
“Jessi, that’s a little unfair,” I said with a laugh.
“Well …” Jessi thought about this a moment. “No. It’s not unfair. I think she should stay and face the school problem. It’s going to go away soon. Remember how some people were so awful to my family when we moved here, because they didn’t want any African-Americans living in Stoneybrook?”
“I remember.”
“We didn’t pack up and move away because some idiots wanted us to. We stayed. My parents faced those people and the people backed off. If Mallory stayed and faced up to the situation, the same thing would happen.”
She made a convincing case.
“If she runs away now, she’ll run away from everything all her life,” Jessi added.
We arrived at the elementary school. “But she likes Riverbend,” I said to Jessi as the Pike kids joined us.
“I hate Riverbend,” said Margo, jumping into our converation
.
“That makes two of us,” Jessi told her.
“It’s a good school for writers,” Vanessa put in. “Mallory told me so herself.”
“That’s just an excuse,” Jessi scoffed. “If she goes, she’ll see it’s no different from SMS.”
The word if struck me. I remembered that Jessi didn’t yet know for certain that Mallory was going. I didn’t know for certain either — but I did know how likely it was. Keeping that information from Jessi made me feel guilty. But it wasn’t up to me to tell her. That wouldn’t have been right either.
“You mean, she might not go?” Margo asked hopefully.
“Oh, she’s going to go,” Jessi replied with assurance. “She says she’s still thinking about it, but I can tell her mind is made up.”
That, at least, made me feel better. Her instincts as a friend had made her suspect the truth.
I noticed Claire’s deep frown and nudged Jessi. “Don’t talk about it right now,” I whispered. “It upsets Claire.”
“That’s not surprising,” Jessi replied.
Just as we had the day before, we went back to the house and made snacks.
“Ew — gross,” was Adam’s comment on the snack.
“Then find your own food,” said Vanessa.
“We will!” Jordan pulled a bag of chocolate-chip cookies from a cupboard closet.
“Mallory is a fool,” Adam said, seemingly out of nowhere. “I don’t know why she wants to go to that stupid school. I think she’s lost her mind.”
“Tell her that,” Jessi suggested eagerly. “You should all let her know that you don’t want her to go.”
“But if it’s what she really wants …” Vanessa said doubtfully.
“She just thinks she wants it,” Jessi replied.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” asked Vanessa.
“No. No way. You might think you want a carob bar from the health-food store because it looks like chocolate. Then, when you get it and take a bite — and it doesn’t taste much like chocolate at all — you might not want it anymore,” Jessi replied. Clearly, she’d given this some thought.
“Oh,” Vanessa said. “I suppose.”
I’d never seen this side of Jessi. She’s usually so easygoing and pleasant. This forceful, angry person was nearly a stranger to me.
The Pike kids were not themselves either. They were much quieter than usual. When they migrated into the living room, we followed. “Maybe you shouldn’t say anything more to the kids,” I suggested as Jessi and I sat down on the couch.
“Why not? This affects their lives too. Their big sister is deserting them.”
“She’s not deserting anyone,” I objected.
“Yes she is. Didn’t you feel deserted when Dawn left?”
“Yes … but …” My voice trailed off as I thought back to that time. My brain knew Dawn wasn’t deserting me. She simply had to do what was right for her. But my heart … that was a different story. It’s hard not to feel deserted when someone leaves, no matter what the reason. “Oh, I suppose so,” I admitted. “Still, I don’t think it’s right to get the kids all stirred up.”
She shot me an annoyed look and shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”
The next hour passed uneventfully. The triplets went into the rec room, and the music of their video games told us what they were doing. I played Memory with Claire.
Jessi helped Margo, Nicky, and Vanessa create holiday cards for their friends. Using glitter pens and a black marker, they soon had some really nice cards laid out in front of them.
“I wonder if we’ll have to mail one of these to Mallory next year,” Margo said sadly, gazing down at her glittering artwork.
I looked at Jessi, and she pressed her lips shut, telling me she wasn’t going to say a thing.
“No, you won’t,” I said. “Even if Mallory does go to Riverbend, she’ll be home for the holidays.”
A few minutes later, Mallory came through the front door. “Hi,” I greeted her as she unzipped her coat. “Why are you back so soon?”
“Mrs. Fellows just wanted to show us where she thought different types of decorations might go,” she explained. “It didn’t take that long. Charlie was picking up Kristy, so he gave me a lift home too.”
“If you go to Riverbend, you won’t even be here to see how the decorations look,” Jessi noted coldly. “I suppose you won’t see much of your uncle Joe either.”
“I’ll be here,” said Mallory. “The session doesn’t start until the second week of January. If I go, I mean. And I could write to Uncle Joe.”
“Writing isn’t the same as being there.”
“So, how are the monsters?” Mallory asked, changing the subject.
Nicky answered by curling his fingers and roaring at her. Mallory laughed. “Alive and well, I see,” she noted with a smile.
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Jessi put in.
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Jessi!”
Jessi stood up. “I’m sorry, but how do you expect them to feel?”
“I feel okay,” Vanessa offered, but neither Mallory nor Jessi paid her any attention.
“I expect them to feel happy for me,” Mallory shot back. “I’ve been offered a full scholarship to an excellent school and I’m very proud of that.”
“Oh, they’re supposed to be happy that you’re acting like a coward and running away from your problems?” Jessi countered.
“I’m not running.”
“Yes, you are. I can’t believe you expect the kids at this boarding school to be any different from the kids at SMS. I bet they’ll be even worse! A bunch of snobs!”
“How can you say that?” Mallory cried. “You’ve never even been there. The girls seemed very nice to me. I’m sure I’ll make new friends.”
Jessi gasped and stepped back a pace. It was as if Mallory had punched her. She stared hard at Mallory, her mouth gaping.
“What?” Mallory asked. “What’s the matter?”
Jessi closed her mouth and squared her shoulders. “I can’t talk about this now,” she said, turning away from Mallory.
“Come on, Jessi,” Mallory pleaded. “Why are you so upset?”
I saw that Jessi was fighting back tears. She lunged toward the hall closet. “I have to go, Mary Anne,” she said in a choked voice as she yanked her jacket from the closet. “Mallory is here now. She can help you baby-sit.”
I stood up. “Come on, Jessi, don’t go. Stay, and we’ll talk some more.”
“I can’t.” She fixed Mallory with an icy gaze. She no longer seemed ready to cry. Instead, she was angry again. “Besides, Mallory should probably spend some time with her brothers and sisters, since she’ll be abandoning them soon.”
“That is so unfair!” Mallory cried. But Jessi didn’t even hear her. In the next second she was out the door.
Mallory turned toward me. “Do you believe her?” she asked.
I could only sigh deeply. I had never seen Jessi so angry.
“I thought she was my best friend,” Mallory said.
“She is,” I replied. I only hoped that they’d still be friends if Mallory decided to leave.
Since Abby is Jewish, she was eager to take on the Hanukkah trimmings. We’d decided to represent every major December holiday in our decorations, hoping that no one would feel left out.
Abby arrived at the Hobart house with her backpack and a net bag she’d brought from home. The bag was filled with felt scraps, glue, scissors, and one large piece of blue felt.
“Okay, guys,” she began as she spread her supplies out on the kitchen table. “We’re going to make a felt banner that shows different symbols of Hanukkah. When it’s done, we’ll hang it up at Stoneybrook Manor so all the people there can admire it.”
“Outstanding!” cheered James (who’s eight).
“Yes, excellent,” agreed six-year-old Mathew.
Four-year-old Johnny simply nodded his head enthusiastically.
Abby grinned
at them. She loves the Hobarts’ Australian accents. And we think they’re cute. All of them — even eleven-year-old Ben, who wasn’t there at that moment — have nearly the same round face, reddish-blond hair, and splash of freckles across the nose.
“What’s harmica?” Johnny asked.
“A musical instrument,” Mathew told him. “You know.” He hummed a tune into his cupped hands.
James shoved him lightly. “Not harmonica, you twit, Hanukkah. It’s a Jewish holiday.” He looked to Abby for confirmation of this. “Right?”
She nodded. “Right. I was thinking we could glue down a menorah, a dreidel, maybe even some latkes.”
The Hobart boys stared at her blankly.
“You guys have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” she observed wryly. In unison, they shook their heads. “Not even the dreidel?” she asked.
“Oh, oh,” Mathew began to hop excitedly and raised his hand as if he were in school. Abby nodded at him and he spoke. “We learned it in kindergarten last year. It’s a little top you spin, and you play for gelt — chocolate coins.”
“That’s right, mostly. It’s a traditional game kids play at Hanukkah,” Abby agreed. She explained how the letter that was faceup on the dreidel when it stopped determined whether the child who had spun it took half, all, or none of the gelt — or put some in the pile. (And she told them that you can play for real money too.) The kid with the most gelt at the end of the game wins. “And, Mathew.” He nodded. “You’re home, so you don’t have to raise your hand.”
He blushed pink. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Abby went on to explain that a latke is a potato pancake and a traditional Hanukkah food. And that the menorah is a candelabra with nine candles, one for each of the eight nights of the Hanukkah celebration and one candle to light the others.
“But what are they celebrating?” James asked. “That’s the part I want to know.”
“The kids are celebrating because they’re going to receive a gift on each night of Hanukkah,” Abby joked. “Just kidding. No, really. They do get the presents, but that’s not what they’re celebrating. They’re commemorating an important event in Jewish history.”
Mary Anne in the Middle Page 3
