Just Visiting

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Just Visiting Page 8

by Laura Dower


  Inside the shed was a row of shelves piled high with junk, junk, and more junk. Lots of stuff was left over from the days of Grandpa Joe. This shed had been his special place, with special objects shoved into every available space: motors that didn’t work, rusted tools, coffee tins of bolts and screws, buckets of fishhooks and wire, three old rods and reels, and even a tacked-up calendar with a red racing car on the front.

  Madison’s eyes pored over the calendar, open to the month that Grandpa had died. He’d marked something in almost every little square. Madison focused on one square in particular, reading Grandpa’s scribbled handwriting:

  Maddie’s birthday—send birdhouse

  She remembered that day clearly. He’d sent a yellow-painted house that still hung in the largest tree in her Far Hills backyard.

  Her eyes searched the wall for other memories.

  Near the calendar, Madison noticed a faded photograph thumbtacked onto the wall. In the picture, Grandpa Joe and Gramma Helen and Mom and Aunt Angie were posing together at the beach—it looked like Tower Head Beach—when they were much younger. Mom had curly hair. Angie was pulling on her hand. Everyone was smiling.

  Way up in a corner, near some rafters, Madison caught a glimmer of something else, too. Words had been carved into the wood on the side of the shed. Intrigued, she looked around everywhere for a light to read the words by.

  She finally found a neon-colored flashlight—on a set of metal shelves across the room—and it worked! Madison grabbed it, crawled up onto a worktable, and tried to get a closer look at the carving.

  FRAN ETHAN

  Madison gulped and looked closer.

  Had Mom really written this?

  In smaller letters nearby, Madison also saw yet another jagged carving. This one was harder to read, but Madison recognized that it had been scrawled by the same person.

  F + E 4-EVER

  Madison grinned. Mom had written both of these.

  All at once, it was like her mother was right there in the shed, too. Madison could hear Mom’s voice, laughing, like she had on the airplane, telling the story about her own childhood loves. Mom had been in love right here in this very spot.

  Between the old photos and objects and the sound of rain still beating on the shed roof, Madison got a case of the shivers. All her feelings were stuck in her throat. Mom had been so right. The past was sleeping everywhere inside the shed. This place was magical.

  Madison crawled back down off the rickety table and replaced the flashlight on one of the metal shelves. There she also saw the watercolor paint sets Gramma asked about and grabbed them along with a box with paper, brushes, and cups. Carting the paints back inside the main house, Madison suddenly felt her entire mood shift.

  Phinnie was jumping up and down and in circles when Madison came back into the dry living room. He barked and sniffed her all over.

  “You found everything okay?” Gramma asked when her granddaughter reappeared.

  Madison nodded and heaved the box of paints onto the kitchen table. They pored over the materials together for several minutes and set up a mini-studio right there in the kitchen.

  “I think I’m going to make a card for Mark,” Madison said coyly. She smiled as she pulled on one of Gramma’s funny painting smocks.

  “Ooooooh!” Gramma said. “What a fine idea.”

  Gramma helped Madison find some old magazines and scissors and glue, too. This would be one of her fine collage masterpieces, Madison decided. She flipped through magazines for all the right words and phrases.

  Summer in the City

  Go for a swim!

  What a blast…

  “You don’t think this is dumb, do you?” Madison asked Gramma. “I mean, I only just met him. Do you think he’ll think I’m a weirdo for making him a card? Do boys even like cards?”

  Gramma nodded. “He’ll appreciate it, Maddie, I know it. Mark is a fine young man. And I’m sure he likes you, too.”

  “I never said I LIKED him,” Madison squealed.

  “Oh,” Gramma corrected herself. “I guess I misunderstood.”

  “Yeah,” Madison said. “We’re just friends, and not even good ones. We only just met, right?”

  Gramma kept right on nodding. “Right. Of course.”

  They painted and pasted for almost two hours, without saying much more about Mark. When Madison showed Gramma the card, she said it looked perfect. Collage words covered the front. Inside, Madison had painted a picture of the beach with the words Summer Vacation and signed it, Thanks for showing me around, Madison Finn.

  While the card was sitting out on the table drying, Madison peered through the living room curtains to see if anyone had come back home from Winnetka Village yet. She was surprised to see lights on next door—and shadows, too.

  Mark and Mabel were home.

  But by now, it was dinnertime and too late to go knocking on Mark’s door and bring over the card. She’d have to hand-deliver it some other time.

  Gramma whipped up some macaroni for dinner while Madison got distracted once again by her laptop computer files. As usual, her brain was buzzing with ideas and emotions. She had to write them all down.

  Drowning

  When I asked the Ask the Blowfish back home (on TweenBlurt.com) about what would happen on this part of my summer vacation, the fortune-teller fish told me I would be drowning in a sea of love.

  HA HA HA. That’s a joke.

  Rude awakening: With all this rain, I sure am drowning—but in the “we’ll see” of love.

  Mark has been gone all day. Was that for the best? The Fourth of July is only 2 days away and I doubt that I’ll go with him. I shouldn’t get my hopes up, right? Plus I think that I should spend the holiday with Gramma Helen instead. She would be sooo sad if I didn’t.

  And I can’t forget about Hart, either. How can I like two people at once? It’s hard to figure all this out, especially when I’m so far from home.

  “Maddie!” Gramma Helen’s voice echoed throughout the house. “Telepho-o-o-one!”

  Madison stopped typing at the keyboard and held her breath.

  It couldn’t be Mark on the phone … could it?

  She trotted off to pick up the line, head swimming with thoughts about what she would say if Mark were on the other end.

  What if he was calling to say that he missed seeing Madison that afternoon and could they do something else together tomorrow?

  What if he was calling at that exact moment to talk about the Fourth of July?

  Her heart skipped a beat when she imagined his voice and his funny laugh. “Hello?” she whispered into the receiver.

  “Maddie?” the voice on the other end whispered back. “Honey bear?”

  It wasn’t Mark. It was Mom!

  “Mom!” Madison was glad to hear her mom’s voice. “What’s going on?”

  Mom explained that she was still in San Francisco, but she’d been in so many meetings for the last day that she could barely get away. Tonight, however, she said, was reserved for a conversation with her favorite person on the planet.

  Madison.

  “How’s Gramma Helen’s?” Mom inquired. “She told me that you made a new friend.”

  “Oh, that,” Madison said. “Yeah, I met this kid who lives nearby.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Mom said. Madison could almost hear her smiling over the telephone wires.

  “What’s new in San Francisco?” Madison asked.

  “It’s hilly!” Mom said, chuckling. “But it’s such a beautiful place. We’ll have to come here together sometime. You’d love the streetcars and parks and the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  Madison thought about how Bigwheels said she’d be on that bridge this week, too. She wished she were there to see her mom and her keypal at the same time.

  “I miss you, Mom,” Madison admitted. “I mean, I’m having a great time with Gramma. But it’s raining today and I miss you.”

  “I heard about that rain!” Mom said. “The ba
d weather should pass by the time the Fourth of July hits. You’ll have your fireworks display, Maddie!”

  Madison told Mom about what they had planned in Winnetka Village for the Independence Day celebration. Mom said it all sounded wonderful.

  “And what else have you been up to?” Mom asked. “Is Gramma pulling everything out of her bag of tricks?”

  Madison told Mom about playing cards every day, about her morning trip to the beach, and about the surprise discovery in the shed that afternoon.

  “The shed? You mean Grandpa’s shed?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah,” Madison said. “I found something interesting on the wall in there. Something you carved into the wood like a million years ago.”

  Mom gasped. “What is it?”

  “You wrote all over the wall in there, Mom,” Madison said. “Fran loves Ethan. That kind of stuff.”

  Mom started to giggle—hard.

  “What are you laughing at?” Madison asked. She wished she could see the look on Mom’s face.

  “Myself … you … that place,” Mom said. “See? I told you Gramma’s was full of surprises.”

  “Well, that wall sure surprised me,” Madison said.

  “I love you so much, honey bear,” Mom said softly.

  The phone clicked for a second like Mom had been disconnected, but she was still there, still laughing.

  Madison realized she wasn’t really drowning at all, like she’d written in her files. For one thing, she had Gramma close by.

  And near or far, Mom would always be there to keep her safer than safe.

  Chapter 11

  MADISON RUBBED THE SLEEP out of her eyes as she and Phin strolled around Gramma’s backyard the next morning. Phin was restless, probably because he’d been cooped up with all the rain the day before. It was earlier than early, too, and Madison didn’t think anyone else was awake. She wore her nightshirt, pj bottoms, and flip-flops (even though they were still a little bit muddy from yesterday’s downpours).

  Mist spread out like a blanket over the entire ground. The whole yard was like one damp prism; Madison saw little rainbows everywhere the dew collided with morning light. It was like Mom said. There was magic hidden all over the place at Gramma’s cottage.

  “Madison!” a voice called out to her from across the yard.

  She knew the voice and turned around. Mark was standing there.

  “Mark?” she called back, crossing her arms so he wouldn’t see what she was wearing. She didn’t even want to think about what her hair looked like. She took a deep breath and wished he would walk away.

  But he came closer!

  “Hey!” Mark said. “I am so sorry that I couldn’t hang out yesterday. My grandmother had to wait around for her doctor … and then we had to go to this pharmacy … and then we went out to eat.”

  Madison nodded at everything he said without saying much herself. She had an instant urge to RUN, RUN, RUN. After all, she was wearing pajamas! But she stood right there, a stick in the mud.

  “Hey!” Mark pointed to her shirt and came a little closer. “Do you like The Simpsons? That’s my favorite show.”

  “Yeah, I like The Simpsons,” she said.

  He shifted around awkwardly. Was he nervous—or was he just embarrassed about Madison’s hideous outfit?

  “Maybe can we hang out today,” Mark said. “My grandmother says we can play tennis at the club down the road. She has guest passes for both of us. And they have extra rackets if you need one.”

  “Urn … okay … sure … but … I have to go inside now…” Madison said, her voice drifting off a little. She tried desperately to edge away from Mark so he wouldn’t get too close. They agreed to meet an hour later for tennis.

  Madison wanted to evaporate. She couldn’t believe that Mark had seen her like that! Since he didn’t seem to care, she convinced herself that she wouldn’t care, either—at least not this once—but it didn’t make the encounter any less embarrassing.

  Afterward Madison knew she had to fix her hair up nice and put on some real clothes. She found some white shorts and pulled on a blue T-shirt. It wasn’t the same one she’d worn to the beach, but she liked the way it looked. After trying unsuccessfully to fix her hair in pigtails, she finally shoved it all up into the tortoiseshell clip. It was definitely a better outfit than her pj’s.

  Phinnie whined a little bit when he realized that Madison would be leaving him behind and he’d miss an afternoon outdoors. He saw her pulling on sneakers, something Madison usually only did when the two of them went on long walks together.

  “Fwroooooorf,” Phin snorted, and crouched down on the rug.

  She patted his head and tried to put his pug mind at ease.

  “I’m just going to play tennis for an hour or so,” Madison said. “And when I come back, we can hang out together with Gramma Helen.”

  As soon as the doorbell rang, she kissed Gramma good-bye on the forehead and dashed out the door to meet Mark. He was standing there on the stoop of Gramma’s cottage in a white tennis outfit, as though he was a professional player or something, swinging his graphite racket.

  “Hey, there!” Madison said, bouncing out the front door. “I’m all set to beat you!” she teased.

  Mark lightly hit her shoulder, teasing back. “Don’t even try it,” he joked.

  Madison, of course, hit him right back. “No, I’m going to BEAT you,” she said, giggling.

  They were both blushing. Madison could tell. Her own cheeks felt hot, and Mark’s looked pink. Or was that sunburn?

  It took them only twenty minutes to walk to the courts. When they arrived, no one else was playing, which was a big bonus. They could choose any court they wanted. Madison borrowed a racket from the clubhouse and grabbed a couple of tennis balls before heading out to court six.

  They played in silence for most of the beginning games. Mark was trying to hit all the shots. He sent a couple of balls whizzing past Madison’s head. She dunked a few lobs into his backcourt. Soon they were in the middle of a “real” set, keeping score and everything.

  “What’s the score again?” Madison asked, ready to toss the tennis ball into the air for a serve.

  “Love-thirty,” Mark said.

  Madison fixated on the way he said the word love. She loved it.

  Then she hit a serve that bounced out-of-bounds.

  “Love-forty,” Mark said.

  Madison rolled a tennis ball between her two fingers before launching it into the air.

  Thwack!

  No sooner had the ball landed in the opposite court than Mark swatted at it and hit back a perfect return.

  “Game to me!” he yelled when Madison missed hitting back the ball by a mile. “Now we have to switch sides.”

  The total score was four games to none, his advantage.

  Madison was glad to feel so cheerful that morning; otherwise, she would have felt utterly defeated.

  As they swapped net sides, they passed each other and Mark tapped Madison on the shoulder as if to say, “Hey!” They went on playing at the club for another hour and a half—almost twice as much time as Madison had anticipated. By the time they decided to call it quits, she was sweating from the sun right through her blue T-shirt, so Madison made extra sure that she didn’t turn around in front of Mark. She’d endured enough humiliating outfits for one day.

  On the walk home, Mark stopped his teasing, though, and got serious all of a sudden.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” Mark started to say. “I’ve been thinking …”

  Madison was listening, although she was a little more focused on keeping her stride behind Mark’s. She didn’t want him to catch sight of her sweaty shirt—and the way he was talking was making her a little nervous.

  “Well …” Mark said, slowing down his pace so Madison could catch up. “Since we’ve been hanging out together this week anyway …”

  Madison smiled. “Yes?” she said, following him like she was doing some kind of dance.

&nbs
p; “I’ve been wanting to ask you this since the day at the beach,” Mark said, stopping short.

  “What?” Madison asked. She stopped walking, too.

  “Do you want to go to the Fourth of July fireworks?” he asked.

  Madison’s insides thumped. “You mean together?” she asked, bolder once again than she’d ever been with Hart Jones.

  Mark shrugged. “Well, yeah,” he said.

  “I’m not sure,” Madison said. “I don’t really know if …”

  “It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I mean, I didn’t mean to make a big d-d-deal out of it…” Now Mark was stuttering. He was definitely nervous.

  “I’d really like to go,” Madison started to say. “But…”

  “But?” Mark asked.

  Madison could hear herself thinking and then speaking in stereo. It was as if she’d been propelled outside her own body to watch herself walking down the street. She wanted to scream, “YES, OF COURSE I WILL GO WITH YOU!”

  But that wasn’t what she replied.

  “Well, I would love to go with you, but I really think I should spend the Fourth of July with my gramma Helen. I came here to visit her, after all. It seems funny to go to the fireworks without her. Don’t you agree?”

  “I guess,” Mark said. “Yeah.”

  Madison surprised herself. She’d taken his invitation—the first offer she’d ever gotten like that ever—and said no?

  Mark looked like he couldn’t believe it, either.

  By now, they’d reached their grandmothers’ houses.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Mark said to Madison.

  “Okay,” Madison replied. “See you.”

  She watched him walk back over to his grandmother’s yard without saying another word. He didn’t even wave before heading inside.

  Madison walked into the front hall to find Gramma leaned over Phinnie, brushing his coat. He was panting happily.

  “How was tennis?” Gramma asked.

  Madison told her what had happened at the courts. She said that on the way home Mark had “sort of” asked her to go to the Fourth of July celebration.

 

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