by Laura Dower
“I see,” Gramma said thoughtfully. “So could I send e-mails to my friends?”
Madison grinned. “Sure. Do you want to?”
Gramma grinned back. “Oh, my neighbor Mabel just got a computer and I promised her I’d write a note or two while I was away. She checks her e-mail every morning. Always forwarding me these joke e-mails and chain letters. It’s a good way to pass the time.”
“Gramma, you’re way more high-tech than I thought,” Madison said.
“Well, you helped me out with that,” Gramma said with a wink.
“So, let me show you how to send e-mail from my address,” Madison said, moving over on the bed to give Gramma room.
Gramma moved a little closer.
“I’m so glad to be here with you,” Gramma said softly, leaning in to kiss Madison on the forehead.
“Me, too,” Madison said. “Thanks for coming to Far Hills.”
She leaned back on her pillows and pressed a few keys. Before long, Madison was showing Gramma TweenBlurt.com, the FHJH website, and every other online place that mattered to her.
Sitting on the quilt with Gramma’s arm around her shoulders, Madison felt as though she must have been getting better, even though she still felt slightly feverish.
Chapter 6
PHIN HAD CRAWLED UNDER the table. Even he sensed that something was wrong.
Madison stared straight down at the waffles on her breakfast plate. Thursday mornings at home were not usually this complicated.
“Mother, I’m not sure that you’re listening,” Mom said, leaning against the counter with a cup of hot coffee in one hand and a piece of dry toast in the other. “Or else I’m not explaining myself well enough to you.”
“No, you’ve explained perfectly. And I understand that you have work to do, but … but …” Gramma couldn’t finish her sentence.
“But what?” Mom said, taking a bite of toast.
“But … I wonder if you have your priorities in order,” Gramma finally said. She clapped her hands together. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Mom answered. “Mother, that is most definitely NOT all. However, I don’t think we should discuss this in front of Madison.”
“It’s okay, Mom, I’m not really listening,” Madison said.
Mom threw back her head. “No, honey bear, this doesn’t concern you….”
Gramma’s face soured. “It absolutely does concern her, Francine!” Gramma never called Mom by her full first name unless she was upset.
“You’re right,” Mom conceded. “But I don’t want to discuss it now. Okay?” Mom placed her empty coffee cup into the kitchen sink and washed her hands. “I’ll see you later, honey bear,” she said.
Gramma sat down with her bowl of pink grapefruit sprinkled with brown sugar and her cup of hot tea. She didn’t say anything more, not even when Mom disappeared into the next room.
“Gramma?” Madison asked after a brief silence.
“Maddie?” Gramma replied, taking a bite of fruit.
“Did you want to do something together today?” Madison asked. “Like play cards? Or maybe send more e-mails to your pals back in Chicago?”
“You still have a terrible cough. I think you should stay in bed,” Gramma said, wagging her finger in Madison’s face. “Besides, I don’t want to catch whatever it is you have, do I?”
“So? We can hang out in my room,” Madison said. “Mom’s going out for her meeting. We can hang out and I can stay in bed at the same time. And later this afternoon we can go to Dr. Pinkerton’s office.”
“I don’t know, Maddie,” Gramma said. “You should rest.”
“I’m not contagious anymore! “Madison insisted. “And I promise I won’t sneeze on you.”
Gramma sighed. “Okay. We’ll play cards. Let me clean up and do a load of wash first. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She handed Madison a tablespoon of cough medicine.
Madison promptly swallowed the liquid and grabbed Phin. They headed upstairs to Mom’s bedroom. Madison threw herself across the unmade bed. She stretched out and watched Mom dress for her meeting.
“Mom, are you going to be back for dinner?” Madison asked.
“I know it’s bad timing, honey bear,” Mom said, shaking her head no. “But this documentary needs some serious work. We have a lot to do….”
“I understand,” Madison replied, sniffling.
“How’s your headache?” Mom asked. “I hope I don’t catch your bug.”
“It’s more like a full-body ache,” Madison said. “And it’s still here. I feel more awake now, but I have the chills a little.”
Madison buried her face in one of the down pillows. She waited for Mom to come over and feel her forehead again. She always did that compulsively when Madison was ill. Madison wished Mom would drop everything and hug her tightly. Hugs always took a little of the ache away. But Mom was busy putting on her earrings and wrapping a scarf around her neck.
“Isn’t that Gramma’s yellow scarf?” Madison asked when she glanced up from the pillow.
Mom nodded. “She lent it to me. Do you like it?”
“You look like Gramma,” Madison answered.
Mom smiled. “I do?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Madison said. “You look pretty.”
Madison waited for Mom to look over and blow a kiss, as she always had when Madison was younger. But there was no kiss. Mom raced into the bathroom instead.
“So, I won’t be back for dinner—and then I have this trip over the weekend—” Mom shouted. “But after that I’ll be back home, and we can spend some more time together. I promise!”
“Uh-huh,” Madison said.
Mom came out of the bathroom. Madison expected her to bypass the bed again, but this time Mom stopped in front of it and flung her body next to Madison’s so hard that the bed bounced like a trampoline.
“Move over, honey bear,” Mom said.
“Mom!” Madison cried. “What are you doing? You’ll mess up your hair and outfit. You’ll catch all my cooties, remember?”
“I don’t care,” Mom said.
Madison felt a warm sensation inside the center of her chest, as if Mom were finally giving her a hug from the inside out.
“I love you, Mom,” Madison said, sniffling.
“I love you, too,” Mom replied, giving Madison a kiss. She stroked Madison’s head.
Phin jumped onto the bed and started licking Madison’s neck. She squirmed away, giggling.
“Do you want to stay here under my covers?” Mom asked.
“Nah, I’ll go into my room,” Madison said. “But thanks.”
Just as Madison was about to leave Mom’s room, the portable phone rang.
“Aren’t you going to pick that up? I’m sure it’s for you,” Mom said. “I’m not expecting any calls.”
Madison grabbed the phone. It was for her. Fiona was on the line.
Fiona had called to let Madison know that she couldn’t work on the website project that day, because the family computer at the Waterses’ house had crashed. She also informed Madison that Aimee couldn’t do much work, either. Her fever spiked, and she was throwing up—a lot. Madison winced. She hoped she wouldn’t contract those symptoms.
“Maybe Lindsay can do some work on the page?” Fiona suggested.
Of course, Madison knew that Lindsay might have a conflict of interest. She had another important project she was working on: Operation Junior High Spy. Since Madison couldn’t get information firsthand, She had asked if Lindsay wouldn’t mind reporting back on gossip at school. The only trick was that Lindsay had to gather all of the information secretly. No one could know why she was asking questions—especially questions about a mysterious ninth grader named Josh.
And so the BFFs’ optical illusions page would have to wait.
After getting off the telephone with Fiona, Madison sent Aimee an e-card with little basset hound puppies on it; that was the same breed of dog as Aimee’s dog, Blossom. Blossom had recently had
puppies of her own. As Madison was sending it, a message from Lindsay popped up on-screen. It was marked TOP SECRET, with a little red exclamation point.
From: LuvNStuff
To: MadFinn
Subject: TOP SECRET
Date: Thurs 25 Sept 11:02 AM
Okay. The mystery guy’s name is Josh Turner (BTW: it’s not Joshua either, just Josh, if that matters to you at all). He is in ninth grade. He plays hockey and he plays the accordion AND tuba (isn’t that bizarre? Who plays the accordion except polka bands? ) But this guy Josh isn’t in marching band or anything. I only know about the music because I overheard him talking to someone in the caf. Maybe he was actually just making a joke. Hmmmm. I followed him twice in school today when I saw him by the lockers and he was wearing a ripped cord jacket with patches on it. I think he looks a little like a TV actor, but I don’t know which one. He was alone both times I saw him (i.e. no girlfriend!) What else do you want to know?
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Lindsay
p.s.: I know Aim is feeling really lousy so we haven’t started on the project but that’s ok b/c I heard in school today that they’re planning to make a big extension to the whole class on this project.
Yeah! Fiona sent me e-mail and said she’s feeling ok. How about u???
Madison coughed when she read the last part, as if testing herself to see how she was feeling. Unfortunately, the one dry cough turned into a whole coughing fit.
Gramma appeared at the bedroom door, looking worried. “We should head out to Dr. Pinkerton’s office,” she suggested.
“But my appointment isn’t until later,” Madison said.
“Let’s get you out of the house—and over to your doctor, now,” Gramma said. “The fresh air will do you some good.”
They said their good-byes to Mom again and left Phin in the kitchen with a half-filled bowl of kibble, a full water dish, and an actual dried pig’s ear, a disgusting snack that Mom had picked up for Phin at the supermarket.
Dr. Pinkerton’s office was packed. Although outside it was a beautiful day, it seemed as though all of Far Hills had contracted the flu.
Madison and Gramma sat in the waiting room for more than an hour before a nurse took them in to an examining room, where they waited for another half hour. The room smelled like antiseptic. Madison flipped through an issue of Good Housekeeping magazine. She found a funny article about celebrities and their dogs. Two different stars in the article had pugs—just as she did—but their pugs weren’t nearly as cute as Phinnie.
When they finally got in to see Dr. Pinkerton, he said that Madison’s bronchitis was still bad but that it would slowly disappear over the next few weeks. He told her that cough medicine alone wouldn’t do much good, which surprised Gramma.
“The best medicine is hot tea and sleep,” he said.
That made Gramma smirk. It was such a Gramma Helen thing to say. The doctor reported that, happily, Madison didn’t have any other major flu or bronchitis complications. Even though she’d been feeling hot, Madison’s fever was gone, and she would not be throwing up anymore. She didn’t need to return for any more visits unless there were an emergency.
Once they were back in the car again, heading home, Madison started coughing again.
“I go to the doctor, and he says I’m getting better. But then I’m out of the doctor’s office for five minutes and I’m sick again! How is that possible?” Madison moaned.
Gramma shrugged. “Murphy’s Law,” she said.
“Who’s Murphy?” Madison asked.
Gramma chuckled. “It’s just an expression. It means that if something can go wrong, it will.”
“No matter what Dr. Pinkerton says, when I start coughing I feel like I’m going to be sick forever,” Madison said.
“Nonsense,” Gramma said as she drove toward home. “Just give yourself a chance to get better. You’ve only been out of school for two days. You need your sleep, just as the doctor said….”
As they drove along, Madison gazed at the round sun sinking behind clouds. Madison loved September nights—the way the sky turned deep orange and pink. She could see the speckled landscape of bright stars even though the sky had not yet fully darkened.
“We were at the doctor’s for a long time,” Madison said. “I wish they hadn’t made us wait so long.”
“What should we have for supper?” Gramma asked. “How about chicken soup with ribbon pasta, or maybe chicken vegetable?”
“Chicken? Again?”
Madison chuckled to herself. One predictable thing about being sick was the menu: soup, soup, and (surprise!) more soup.
Mom was still not home when Gramma and Madison arrived. They ate soup and toast with Phin, played a few games of Crazy Eights, and settled in for the night. Madison put on cotton pajamas with rose and fuchsia-colored confetti circles; they were like a designer pair Madison had seen in a teen magazine. Gramma wrapped herself in a big, hand-knit cardigan. Together, they watched a romantic, made-for-TV-movie and each laughed whenever the other cried at the sappy parts.
By the time Mom arrived at home, Gramma had nodded off in the reclining chair.
Madison heard Mom go into the kitchen. She followed her.
“Hi, Mom,” Madison said. “You’re late.”
“I know,” Mom said, leaning toward Madison for a kiss. “What have you two been doing all day? Where’s Gramma?”
“Asleep,” Madison replied. “We hung out today. Went to see Dr. Pinkerton. My bronchitis is still pretty bad, so I guess I have to stay home from school another day,” she coughed. She told Mom exactly what the doctor had said.
Mom nodded. “That’s why Gramma is here. Extra TLC.”
They heard Gramma stir in her chair in the next room. She was snoring. Madison and Mom could hear her all the way in the kitchen.
Madison giggled.
“Why don’t you head up to your bedroom, Maddie?” Mom requested. “I’ll wake up your grandmother in a few minutes.”
Phin led the way upstairs. Madison was going to check her e-mail, but decided against it. Gramma was right. She did need some sleep.
Madison wandered over to close the curtains. As she stared out the window toward the house next door, she thought about her mysterious neighbor. Why hadn’t Madison ever seen Josh Turner at FHJH?
There weren’t any lights on next door, so Madison assumed that Josh and his family were out for the night—until a bright yellow lamp clicked on downstairs.
Madison bit her lip as she watched a light go on in an upstairs window, too. She saw someone move in the shadows. She could see a bed, a night table, and … a person … stepping into the light … with slightly reddish hair….
Yes!
It was Josh.
Madison grinned when she realized that he was there, wandering around in the half darkness of his bedroom. She sat down on the window seat and started to think about what it would have been like to meet him face to face. Had he ever noticed Madison at school? Had he ever looked through her window?
No!
Madison froze. Josh had his nose pressed up against the glass of his window. He was staring toward her room.
Quickly, Madison ducked behind her curtains.
When she leaned around to peek over at his window again, he waved.
Tentatively, Madison waved back. She fought hard to hold in her nervous giggles. What was happening here?
Josh held up a finger as if to say, “Hold on one moment!” and dashed away and out of sight. A moment later he returned to the window with a piece of yellow cardboard in his hands. On the cardboard was a message in black Magic Marker.
HI THERE
Madison almost fell over because she started laughing so hard.
HI THERE? It seemed so normal—but still weird.
Josh shrugged and waved the sign again, looking for some kind of response.
Madison was about to search for a pen and paper on which to write her own sign back, but she stopped. There were foot
steps on the stairs. She couldn’t risk getting caught by Mom or Gramma in the middle of her window “conversation”! What should she do?
Phin nipped at her knees. Without a moment’s hesitation, Madison closed the curtain and jumped back. A few moments later, when Madison realized that she’d been hearing things and that no one had entered Madison’s room, she gently pulled back the curtain again, hoping to see another yellow sign.
But by then the light in Josh’s bedroom had been turned off. He wasn’t there. Madison collapsed on her window seat.
“Where did he go, Phinnie?” Madison asked aloud.
Phin let out a little bark, as if he wanted to climb into the window seat with Madison. She picked him up, pulled him into her lap, and gave him a cuddle.
Josh Turner. Josh Turner. Josh Turner.
Madison said his name over and over in her mind. Finally, they had made contact. He had made contact. With a sign!
For a person as superstitious as Madison, it was all about the signs.
She wondered what the next one would be.
Chapter 7
Sicker
Last night I went to sleep dreaming of dreamy Josh Turner. I was thinking about what will happen when I head back to school next week. Maybe I’ll see him in the hallway and he’ll ask me to have lunch with him at his table in the cafeteria. That would just burn Poison Ivy if I got to sit with the ninth graders at lunch!
While I was thinking about all this, I got SICKER! I had a massive coughing fit and spent half an hour trying to stop this awful tickle in my throat. Gramma had to make me hot peppermint tea with honey. That was really nice of her but it was A MAJOR DRAG because after coughing for soooo long, I started to get this thumping headache. And to think, I thought I was getting better!!! I have the cold sweats, too. Gross. And Gramma said (of course) all of this is because I tried to do too much before I was better. There’s nothing worse than someone who says, “I told you so.” Ugh. So why do moms and grandmoms always say that?
Rude Awakening: Just when I thought I was off and running—major relapse. Now I’m just cough and running.
