Letters from the Heart

by Annie Bryant

  2. Was it hard moving to America? Why did our family come here? When did we learn to speak English?

  3. What were the biggest differences between Mexican and American life?

  4. What was the hardest thing to get used to in America?

  5. What member of my family am I most like?

  “That’s good,” Charlotte said approvingly. “I like all of it. And the last question is a great idea!” Her eyes sparkled. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to find someone in your family who lived a long time ago who loves a lot of the same things that you do?”

  Katani cleared her throat. “Okay, you guys. Listen to my questions so far.” She hopped up off the Lime Swivel to read her list.

  What I Want to Know About My Family History or Who Else Likes to Sew, Anyway?

  1. What were my great-grandparents like? I know all sorts of things about my grandmother, but I’m curious about her parents. What were they like? When did they come to Boston?

  2. Were there any great leaders in my family? (I’m kind of hoping to find someone inspirational in my family’s past!)

  3. What kind of stuff did my family have to deal with, being African American a long time ago?

  4. Are Grandma Ruby and I the only ones who like to sew and design things in my family?

  “Awesome,” Avery said approvingly. She flicked her yo-yo expertly. “I’m still working on mine,” she admitted. “What about you, Maeve?”

  Maeve frowned. “Still working,” she said quickly.

  She was grateful when Charlotte took the spotlight off her by reading from her own list.

  Charlotte’s Questions (DRAFT)

  1. I know that my mother was a teacher. Were there teachers on both sides of our family? And what about writing? Were there writers on my mother’s side of the family, too?

  2. Was anyone else in our family interested in studying the stars?

  3. I also wonder where we came from. I love to travel, like my dad does, but I’ve always wanted a place to call home. I wonder if our family came from one special place, or lots of different places. I think learning about that will help me to understand my father’s love of travel better.

  Maeve listened to Charlotte’s quiet voice as she read out loud from her list. Suddenly, she had an almost overwhelming desire to tell her friends what was going on with her parents. She knew that they’d want to know something this big. They’d probably kill her when they found out…IF they found out.

  But it doesn’t have to happen, Maeve reminded herself, packing up her book bag. If everything goes the way I hope it does, maybe there’s no reason to tell them. Maybe the whole thing will blow over and I won’t have to say a word.

  “Hey, I’ve gotta go,” Maeve said, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “I’ve got to help my parents do some stuff at home.”

  “But we haven’t even started designing your outfit for Friday night!” Katani wailed.

  “I know! But it’s five o’clock already.” Maeve grabbed her day planner, which had slid out of her book bag onto the floor.

  “Maeve, you are so ORGANIZED these days,” Katani said admiringly. “Getting nominated for that award has totally changed you. Who knows? Maybe you’re really a Virgo in disguise!”

  “See you guys,” Maeve called as she hurried out the door, giving them all a quick wave.

  If Katani only knew, she was thinking. Maeve hadn’t changed one bit because of being nominated for the award. It was life at home that was changing her. And it wasn’t because she was suddenly organized. It was because she was doing everything in her power to keep her mom and dad together.

  CHAPTER 9

  Even Model Daughters Oversleep

  Maeve opened one eye. Her alarm clock was buzzing away. Darn! Seven thirty! Had she managed to push the snooze button AGAIN? Why hadn’t her mom come and woken her up, the way she always did when Maeve overslept?

  Maeve jumped out of bed like a three-alarm fire was raging through the house. She grabbed her favorite blue jeans and a T-shirt from the pile on her chair. Yuck—there was a chocolate stain on the shirt. Everything she owned seemed to be dirty or in the wash. Where were the neatly laundered clothes her mother always left stacked just inside her door, waiting for Maeve to put them away?

  This going-back-to-work business had its downside. It was nice that Maeve’s mom was so excited about her new job. But still, a girl had her limits. After a scramble, she finally found something half decent to wear. Maeve grabbed her laptop and her book bag, ignoring the plaintive looks on Romeo’s and Juliet’s furry little faces. “No time to play, guys. I am late, late, late,” Maeve sang out, racing down the hall. Her stomach was growling. Breakfast…she was definitely in need of one of her mom’s famous power breakfasts. Maeve liked to moan and groan when her mother made Sam and her eat what she liked to call “real food” for breakfast, but today, the thought made Maeve smile. She was famished. Scrambled eggs and buttered toast would be just the thing to get her energy level up before school.

  But when Maeve dashed into the kitchen, it was completely quiet. No sign of her mother anywhere, and instead of a delicious, piping hot breakfast, there was a note on the kitchen table.

  “Maeve, be a love and get Sam some cereal before school. My boss asked me to come in early today, and Dad has a fund-raiser breakfast downtown. Lots of love, Mom.”

  Maeve stared at the note. GREAT. It was hard work trying to be a model daughter. Especially a model daughter who was running thirty minutes behind.

  The kitchen door cracked open. Sam looked like a wreck. Worse than usual, Maeve thought, noticing that half of his hair was sticking up on one side and he was still wearing his pajama top. Great. So no hot breakfast, and now she was supposed to magically get herself ready for school and get Sam ready for the bus. This was just GREAT. Maeve was getting sick of model daughter behavior. She wouldn’t mind just being herself again, to tell the truth.

  “Where’s Mom?” Sam demanded, his lower lip wobbling.

  Maeve was about to snap that she wanted to know the exact same thing, but something in her little brother’s expression made her stop short. “Oh—she had to go to work early today,” she said, trying to sound like she had it all under control. She banged open a few cupboards, looking around for Sam’s favorite cup. What kind of eight-year-old, she thought to herself, is such a major brainiac that he can tell you every single battle that ever happened in the Civil War, but still likes to drink his juice out of a Star Wars cup?

  “Here!” she said triumphantly, banging the cup on the table. She banged it too hard, though, and Sam jumped.

  That was just enough to get Sam to cry. Little tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and he just stood there, looking completely tragic. It made Maeve’s heart break.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, gulping. “It’s fine, Sam. She just had to go in early today. I’m sure it won’t usually be like this. I’ll make you breakfast, okay? Just—just don’t cry like that!”

  “I hate this,” Sam shouted.

  Maeve stared at him. Poor kid. This was hard for Maeve, but it was obviously really hard for Sam, too. She hadn’t really thought that much about what he must be feeling.

  Maeve took a step closer to him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and—well, here goes nothing, she thought as put her arms around him. He didn’t actually feel that gruesome—and he didn’t even smell bad. Considering.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  She held him for a little while, and he seemed to calm down. The strange thing was, Maeve felt a little better, too. She didn’t even scream when he sniffled right onto her one clean T-shirt. She made him cinnamon toast and found him his green marshmallow cereal. Actually, the cinnamon toast was good—just as good as Mom’s. Maeve ended up eating three pieces. By the time breakfast was done she was feeling much better.

  “Come on,” she said to Sam when they were done eating. “I’ll take you to the bus on my way to school.”
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br />   The house was empty as she closed the door behind them. No Mom to call out after them, wishing them a good day. No Mom urging Maeve to hurry, reminding her to brush her teeth after breakfast (she forgot!) or asking if she had her homework.

  Her homework! Shoot! She’d left her completed math assignment on the dining room table, right where she and Matt had worked on it last night!

  Maeve spun around. “Sam, we have to go back.”

  “Why?” he demanded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. YUCK.

  “I forgot something,” she told him, passing him a tissue.

  She ran back into the apartment and grabbed her homework, stuffing it into her bag with a sudden feeling of…what was it? Pride? Satisfaction?

  It felt good taking charge of this stuff on her own. Maeve hoped her mom wasn’t going to make a habit of these early morning work hours. But at the same time, she was kind of proud of herself for being able to take care of Sam. Not to mention herself.

  CHAPTER 10

  What Holds Together

  Charlotte’s Journal

  I know I haven’t written in ages. I’m up on my balcony, with Marty…and my big quilt wrapped around both of us. The nights are definitely getting colder—not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to sneak out here and look for stars.

  It’s so funny about constellations. When you know the pattern that you’re looking for, you can usually find it. But if you don’t know what shape to look for, you can sometimes see your own shapes up in the sky. I love trying to find my own shapes up there. An Eiffel Tower…a Tower. But when it comes to real constellations, my favorite is Orion. Dad’s the one who taught me that you can see Orion in both hemispheres. When we were in the Serengeti that used to make me feel less far away from everything else I knew…

  So I asked Dad tonight at dinner about what it was like for him when he was growing up. And guess what? Dad NEVER got to travel when he was little. He told me that his parents lived outside of Chicago and they didn’t really like to travel very much. Dad was so curious about the rest of the world, he used to get out all of these huge travel books from the library and pore over them, dreaming of all the places he wanted to go to one day. He always swore that when he grew up, he was going to live differently. And then he met Mom, and she felt the same way that he did. They both had this saying: “A home should be a ship, and not an anchor.” They wanted to spend their whole lives traveling around the world…and after I was born, they started to do that. When Mom died, Dad wanted to carry on with their dream. I did love hearing my dad’s stories. It helps me to understand him so much more.

  I asked Dad tonight if I could interview my grandfather and learn more about what it was like for him, growing up. He said, “Of course.”

  Maeve, Katani, and Isabel met at the front entrance of Abigail Adams after school on Wednesday.

  “Don’t even try to get away from us. This is an ambush. It’s time for the Kgirl Award Ceremony Makeover!” Katani said gleefully, taking Maeve by the arm. “And don’t you dare try to wriggle your way out of this! I don’t want to hear a word about homework or the Heritage Museum or anything else!”

  “You have an awards ceremony to get ready for,” Isabel added. The girls each grabbed one of Maeve’s arms and pretended to march her up the street.

  “I don’t have any money, you guys. Honestly,” Maeve protested.

  “Who said anything about money? It’s time for Maeve’s home shopping network,” Katani sang out happily. “We’re going straight to your closet to see what you’ve got. And then it’s time to put the Designing Duo to work.”

  Maeve thought fast. Her mom would be at home, and probably Sam, too. But her mom wouldn’t say anything personal in front of her friends—she could count on that. Or at least she hoped that she could. And Katani and Isabel were right. She DID need something to wear on Friday.

  “Okay,” she said, relenting. “But I don’t have very long. I have—”

  “Homework,” Isabel and Katani said in unison, winking at each other.

  Maeve’s cheeks flushed. Clearly her “model daughter” behavior had not gone unnoticed among her friends. Well, she wasn’t going to give it up. She was convinced it was working. Her parents had both been so appreciative—her mother had commented several times on how organized Maeve had been this week, and her father thanked her like crazy for helping with dinner. To be honest, Maeve thought things were already going better at home. All four of them were eating dinner together, just like they used to—but now, without any arguing. Her parents were being extra nice to each other. The whole household seemed to be running really smoothly. Nobody was even talking about D-day, as Maeve had come to think of it. Sunday. Departure Day. Dad Moves Out. Maybe they’d already changed their minds!

  So then why, a little voice inside her said, is Dad still packing boxes every afternoon?

  But she pushed that thought away. The boxes were all being stored down in the cinema. She didn’t think there was anything that would give Isabel or Katani reason to think her parents were up to something.

  In fact, her mom was helping Sam with his homework when the girls got back to Maeve’s apartment. Her mom couldn’t have been nicer, Maeve thought. She offered them all chocolate chip cookies, and when they told her what they were doing, she even said Maeve could borrow anything she wanted from her closet.

  Not, Maeve thought, that there’s much in there I’d want. But it was still awfully nice of her.

  “Your mom seems different,” Katani said ten minutes later, once the door to Maeve’s room was closed behind them. “Calmer, I guess. Don’t you think?”

  “She’s gone back to work part-time,” Maeve said. THAT much she could tell her friends! “I think she likes it. She says she can get all of her organization mania out of her system at the office. So she’s much more easygoing at home.”

  Isabel was cooing over Maeve’s guinea pigs. “Omigosh, they are SO sweet,” she said, leaning over the top of the cage. “What are their names, again? I keep forgetting.”

  “That’s because she changes them every week!” Katani laughed.

  Maeve smiled. “They’re still Romeo and Juliet. And they have been for a whole six days. I haven’t figured out who they’re going to be next week.”

  Katani was already past the guinea pigs, diving into Maeve’s closet. “Okay…” she mumbled. “Do you think you want something kind of subdued and elegant, or something that screams LOOK AT ME?”

  “Well, you know me. It’s gotta be the ‘look at me’ look,” Maeve told her. “And it’s gotta be pink!”

  Isabel giggled. “You’d never know that,” she said ironically, looking around at Maeve’s room, which was more pink than any place she’d ever seen.

  Katani was digging furiously through a pile of tops on Maeve’s chair. Maeve had to admit that her model daughter behavior hadn’t exactly crept into her bedroom yet. She still thought that piling clothes on her chair made a lot more sense than hanging them in her closet. What was the point? You could never find anything that way!

  “THIS,” Katani said at last, pulling out a silvery-pink satin top with a great V-neck. “Oh, Maeve, this is totally great. Now all we have to do is figure out some kind of skirt, and you’re all set.”

  For the next hour, Maeve forgot all about her family, having to be a perfect daughter, and figuring out what she wanted to know about her past. Instead, she felt like Cinderella. She didn’t know how Katani did it, but somehow she pulled out one thing and then another thing…clothes Maeve might never have considered wearing together…and the next thing she knew, she looked like a model! Katani just made you feel good inside and out.

  The complete outfit was amazing. Katani found a slim black skirt wedged in the back of Maeve’s closet, and a pair of strappy black sandals. The effect with the silvery top was absolutely perfect.

  “And if you’ll let me, I’ll do your hair,” Isabel said. “I’ve been making hair combs as presents lately. I take those metal hair combs
from the drugstore and add beads and jewels to them. I can custom-design one to go with your top.” She pulled Maeve’s hair over to one side. “See? You look like you belong in Hollywood.”

  Maeve felt inspired to leap up on her bed, pretending it was a stage. “Okay, you guys. If I win, what do you think of this as an acceptance speech?

  “First,” she said, clearing her throat, “I want to thank all of my friends who made tonight possible. Katani Summers, Goddess of the Sewing Machine and Designer Extraordinaire. If it weren’t for Katani, the blankets would have come out looking like starfish.”

  “That’s so true,” Isabel cried.

  Maeve held up one hand. “Wait! I’m not done. And thanks to Isabel Martinez, who dove right into this project even though she was brand new to our school. And gave it her all. And loaned her artistic vision and made the blankets absolutely beautiful!”

  Isabel and Katani clapped as Maeve went on to thank Charlotte and Avery—even though they weren’t there to hear their virtues celebrated.

  “You’re a natural, Maeve,” Isabel said warmly. “I can just see you up there on stage now. I bet you’re going to win,” she added.

  Maeve blinked. The imaginary stage vanished, and she was back in her own bedroom, facing her smiling friends. Reality came flooding back.

  Well, she sure hoped that she won. She HAD to win. She was counting on it…and not because she wanted a chance to be in the spotlight, either. It just seemed more important now, more important than anything.

  Isabel had her materials laid out on the kitchen table. Hair combs, beads of all different sizes, and top-quality glue. She wanted to make Maeve an absolutely beautiful comb to wear in her hair on Friday. Isabel adored this kind of project. She loved choosing just the right mixture of stones and silver, to complement the top Maeve would be wearing. Yes, amethyst, it would be—amethyst, which would look amazing with her hair.