Letters from the Heart

by Annie Bryant

  She was concentrating so hard that she almost didn’t hear her mother come in. Late afternoons lately had been the hardest time for her mother, who was still getting used to the medicine they were giving her to keep her from getting another flare-up from multiple sclerosis.

  “That looks lovely,” her mother said, pulling up a chair. “Are you making that for anyone special?”

  Isabel told her mother all about Maeve. “She really deserves this award, Mama. She worked so hard on those blankets, and she got so many others to help her with the project.” Isabel smiled, slipping a purple gem into place. “She’s so…oh, I don’t know the best way to describe her!” She shook her head. “She has such an amazing spirit. She really always includes other people…she’s got such a big heart!”

  Her mother smiled, watching Isabel work.

  “And you know something, Mama,” Isabel said slowly, “I think something has really been bothering her lately and she hasn’t wanted to burden anyone with it. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Have you asked her?” her mother wondered. “Maybe she just needs to know that you want to hear.”

  Isabel shook her head. She knew that in her mother’s world, this was true. But sometimes Isabel felt like her mother didn’t understand HER world. Things were so different for her than they had been for her mother, who grew up in a very protected household in suburban Michigan, filled with lots of extended family. And, all of her mother’s friends knew Spanish and most of them were from Mexico, too. This wasn’t true for Isabel. Her friends were from all over. They were all so different…from each other, and from Isabel.

  “Well, you can let her know that you’re there for her,” her mother said slowly. She almost seemed to be reading Isabel’s mind. “That much is true around the world.”

  Isabel put the comb carefully aside. She looked at her mother’s lovely face, which was still so beautiful even though she looked tired from the medicine. “Mama, what was it like for you when you were my age?” she asked. She was thinking about her project for Ms. O’Reilly. This was such a rare chance, to have her mother up and eager to talk. She wanted to take advantage of it.

  Her mother smiled. “Well, you know that I was one of six children. Not like you and Elena Maria. We were a big family and we had to share everything. And we lived in a small house. So it was always all of us, all together. And my cousins lived two doors away. We ate dinner together almost every night, either at their place or ours. Lourdes and I, we were the babies. We had to run to catch up with our older brothers!” Her mother laughed. “We had so many brothers and cousins, we didn’t really need friends the way that you girls do today.” She shrugged. “It was different. Our worlds revolved around family, church, and school—in that order. When your grandfather started earning enough, Lourdes and I went to a convent school about three miles from our house. We wore uniforms…gray-and-blue-checked skirts, and navy tops. Every day.”

  “And what about Papa? How did you meet Papa?” Isabel loved hearing this story, even though she knew it by heart.

  “At a dance.” Her mother’s eyes shone. Even after all these years, Isabel’s parents still adored each other. “He wanted to ask my friend to dance first. Nina. I could’ve killed her! But she was dancing with someone else, and he asked me…and the rest,” her mother said with a smile, “you know too well.”

  Isabel looked down at the comb she was working on. She wondered what material object she could bring to school to represent her family and its history. It was such a weird thing that her mother had this illness now that made her muscles weak. Because the one word that Isabel would choose to describe her mother was “strong.” Her mother was quiet but had so much wisdom about life. Like glue, Isabel thought with a smile, turning the comb that she’d made over in her hands. Her mother was like the glue in her comb—she held them all together.

  Maybe she was right about Maeve, Isabel thought. Maybe Maeve DID need to know that her friends were there for her. And whatever was on her mind—and Isabel knew that something was—they would be there. They were the Beacon Street Girls and Isabel was so happy to be one of them. They all stuck together…like glue!

  CHAPTER 11

  In the Spotlight

  BREAKING THE NEWS

  It was Maeve’s idea to get ready in the Tower on Friday night.

  She told Charlotte that she thought it would be good luck. The truth was, she didn’t want to risk her friends finding out about her parents splitting up. Not tonight. And her father’s boxes were actually spilling out of the cinema now—there were already a few stacked up in the hallway.

  So to the Tower it was. Katani had brought her sewing machine over in case they needed any last-minute alterations. By six o’clock, the room looked like a tornado had hit. Clothes were everywhere. Makeup bags, bottles of gel and mousse, curling irons…and Charlotte had propped up a big mirror so that Maeve could see herself from every angle.

  “Look at this place!” Avery shrieked, picking up a curling iron. “It looks like one of those fashion magazines Maeve’s always reading. Yikes, this thing is smoking!” she exclaimed, dropping the iron like a hot potato.

  Maeve laughed. It was true—the Tower was strewn with clothes, her bag of hair equipment, shoes kicked off everywhere, and vials and jars and bottles all over the place.

  “It looks like a movie star’s dressing room,” Isabel said, coming over to Maeve and putting her hand on her arm. “We’re so proud of you, Maeve.”

  Maeve felt tears rush to her eyes. Don’t, she thought. Don’t say another nice thing to me or I’m going to lose it.

  “To Maeve!” Avery exclaimed, grabbing one of Maeve’s high heels and lifting it up like a glass. “Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, we are proud to have you as our friend.”

  Later, Maeve couldn’t say why that one gesture completely undid her. Maybe it was because she’d been trying so hard to keep her parents’ news a secret from her friends, and she felt bad about that. Maybe it was just the days and days of bottling up her feelings. In any case, her emotions just came bursting free, and before she knew it, she was sobbing. Absolutely sobbing. Isabel jumped up to put her arms around her, and then Katani and Charlotte were hurrying over to hug her, and Avery was staring with bewilderment and concern at the shoe in her hand.

  “What?” Avery managed. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Is there something wrong with this shoe? What did I DO?”

  Maeve wiped her tear-stained face, shaking her head, half-laughing and half-crying. “You’re so silly,” she told Avery. “It isn’t YOU. It’s—well, my parents told me and Sam that they’re separating.”

  “Separating?” Katani repeated dumbly, staring at Maeve as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “Are you sure?”

  Everyone looked stunned.

  “Yes,” Maeve said sadly. “I’m SURE. I wish I weren’t.”

  Nobody seemed to know what to say for a moment. Then Avery, still holding Maeve’s shoe, made her pronouncement.

  “That stinks,” she said, with her well-meaning direct -ness. “Has your dad already moved out?”

  Maeve shook her head. “Not yet. It’s supposed to happen this weekend,” she said, grabbing for a box of tissues and starting to cry all over again.

  Isabel engulfed Maeve in a huge hug. “So that’s why you’ve been acting different. I kind of thought something was wrong,” she said.

  “You did?” Maeve blinked. “Really?”

  Katani was pacing back and forth. “Maeve, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?”

  “Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet,” Isabel said defensively. She hated the thought of anyone being mad at Maeve right now. Katani gave Isabel a look. She wanted to hear whatever Maeve was thinking from Maeve, and not from Isabel.

  “I’m sorry,” Maeve sniffled. “To tell you the truth, I’ve kind of been hoping that they’d change their minds.”

  “They hardly ever do that,” Avery said bluntly.

  “…I don’t know. I feel like maybe par
t of this was my fault,” Maeve said brokenly. “You know how flaky I can be about assignments and grades and stuff. They were always getting in arguments about me. I figured if I were on my best behavior, if I tried harder to help out, if I just did better in school…”

  “Ah HA!” Katani cried. “So that’s why you’ve been super-organized lately!”

  Avery set Maeve’s shoe down. “Maeve, I hate to burst your bubble,” she said matter-of-factly, “but it isn’t all about you. Parents don’t split up because of kids. Trust me on this. They do it because they are unhappy themselves. It took me a long time to realize it. The good news is it’s not your fault they want to split up. The bad news is that there is not a whole lot you can do to change it.”

  Maeve blotted at her face with a tissue. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice wobbly. “I think they actually are changing their minds, Avery. Really.”

  “Well, it’ll probably be the first time in history if that happens,” Avery told her. “Really, Maeve. I hope they do, but just don’t count on it, okay? Take care of yourself. It’s what your parents want you to do. It’ll take a while, but you’ll be okay,” she added. “When my mom and dad split up, it was awful. But kids can get through it when they have friends and their parents love them. Kids are resilient. I know. Look at me.”

  Resilient, Maeve thought. There was that word again. That’s what her father had said, too.

  But right now, Maeve didn’t want to be resilient. She wanted her parents to stay together.

  “People get back together in the movies,” Maeve said stubbornly. “Haven’t you ever seen The Parent Trap? Or What a Girl Wants? Or Three Smart Girls?”

  “Those are MOVIES, Maeve,” Avery retorted. “Not real life.”

  Charlotte looked at her watch. “Hey, we have to get Maeve to the Community Center.”

  “Oh, no!” Maeve gasped, rushing over to peer into the mirror. “I look AWFUL. I can’t go looking like this!”

  “Katani, do you have your magic makeup bag with you?” Charlotte asked.

  Katani nodded. “Charlotte, run down and get some ice. We have to bring the swelling down around her eyes,” she said briskly, opening up her makeup bag and taking out a few bottles and tubes. When Katani worked her makeup magic, she sounded more like a scientist than a makeup artist.

  It helped Maeve to have something to focus on. Right now, there didn’t seem to be that much more to say about what she was going through. The girls just wanted to help her get to the awards ceremony feeling better and looking more or less like her regular self.

  Isabel noticed that Maeve’s fingers were trembling as she tried to smooth back her hair.

  “Hey,” she said softly, taking out the comb she’d made for her. “Maybe this is a good time to give you this.”

  And with a few deft strokes, Isabel had helped pull Maeve’s hair back from her face and slipped the comb in. It was beautiful. The purple and silver beads looked lovely with Maeve’s silvery top, and they helped bring out the blue in her eyes. Best of all, the comb actually got a smile out of Maeve.

  “You MADE this?” she said, gazing wonderingly at the comb in the mirror. “Isabel, you are so talented, thank you!”

  It was good to see her brighten up. Good to see the sparkle back in her eyes.

  And that, Isabel thought as she adjusted the comb, was what friends were for, too. Helping to hold things together just when it seemed like everything was coming apart.

  THE BIG NIGHT

  Finally, Maeve was ready.

  She practiced her “graceful acceptance walk” going down the stairs from the Tower, noticing that her new platform heels made her a lot taller—and a lot more wobbly. She had to hang on to the banister all the way down. Well, maybe her mom and dad would walk her up to the stage to accept her award! IF she won, that is. Maeve could see it now, they’d be beaming at each other, each holding one of her arms. And after the awards ceremony, they’d probably want to go out alone together, just the two of them, to talk about how marvelous the whole night had been. Who could say? Maybe by tomorrow night they’d be reconsidering the whole separation idea.

  She could imagine the scene in her head.

  “Maeve…Sam,” her mother would say. “Your dad and I have talked it all over, and we realized we almost made the biggest mistake of our lives! Thanks to you, Maeve, we’ve realized that all of our problems were really trivial. We’re definitely going to stay together.”

  “Maeve, what’s the matter?” Avery demanded. “Did you twist your ankle? Why are you walking like that?”

  Maeve blushed. Apparently her “graceful acceptance walk” wasn’t quite as graceful as she thought.

  She tried to ignore Avery. Head held high, Maeve went over one last version of her acceptance speech in her head.

  Of course, the real thanks goes to the community at Jeri’s Place. What an exceptional and dedicated staff! The people who work there do so much to bring warmth and comfort to the lives of the people that they serve. The blanket project only adds to their terrific service.

  She could hear the deafening applause around her. In her mind’s eye, she was reaching for the trophy, even bigger now than she’d imagined it earlier—her parents with their arms around each other, their eyes shining…

  “Maeve, COME ON,” Avery said, grabbing her by the arm. “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss the whole thing! What if you actually win this thing? You don’t want to be late to your own awards ceremony.”

  The Junior Community Service Awards Ceremony was taking place in the Brookline Community Center. The last time the girls had been here, the room had been cleared for social dancing lessons. Today, there were dozens of rows of folding chairs set up facing a podium. A local television station was setting up cameras, and the Rotary Club, which was sponsoring the awards ceremony, was up at a small table next to several teachers from local junior high schools. Mrs. Fields, the principal of Abigail Adams and Katani’s grandmother, was up at the table next to Ms. Rodriguez.

  The first two rows had been cordoned off for people who were receiving awards.

  “Look! They’ve saved seats for us,” Avery exclaimed as she steered Maeve up toward the front. Isabel, Charlotte, and Katani were just behind them. Maeve couldn’t believe how many people there were. She saw dozens of kids she knew from school—people had really turned out! Dillon was sitting in the fourth row, with Pete Wexler and Nick Montoya.

  Maeve suddenly felt funny. She didn’t know why. There were so many people here. This was her kind of night. Why did she feel shaky all of a sudden? All her life Maeve had dreamed of accepting an award…

  Maeve gulped. She twisted around in her chair, trying to find her mom and dad. Finally she saw her father, sitting with Sam several rows back. It had never actually occurred to Maeve that her mom and dad might not sit with each other. EVERYTHING was different than she’d imagined. Suddenly, Maeve felt distinctly nervous. Distinctly afraid of getting up in front of ANYONE, let alone her friends, classmates, and most of all, her parents. How were her mom and dad supposed to hug each other and reunite if they weren’t even sitting in the same ROW? Everything was wrong!

  But there wasn’t time to agonize about this. Mrs. Fields was getting up to introduce the awards ceremony. She was welcoming all of the parents, talking about the value of community service for young people, and saying how proud they should be of all ten of the students who had been nominated for awards this evening.

  She beamed out at the audience and then directly at Maeve.

  “What a pleasure it is to have this opportunity tonight to acknowledge all of you who have gone out of your way to help others,” Mrs. Fields said. “The students have shown so much initiative, so much optimism, and such persistence in making their dreams work for others. Thanks to their vision and leadership, we now have new programs thriving in our community. I would like to ask all of you to give them a big round of applause, and to let them know how grateful we are for the leadership they have sho
wn.

  “This is truly an instance,” Mrs. Fields continued, taking off her reading glasses for a moment, “of every single one of us being a winner, thanks to the hard efforts of these distinguished young people.” She beamed. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I quote my favorite children’s book of all time—Miss Rumphius—when I say that each of these students has truly made the world a more beautiful place, thanks to their creativity and hard work.”

  Everyone was clapping loudly. Maeve knew she should be feeling wonderful, hearing her principal saying these amazing things, but she was too busy trying to figure out where her mother was sitting. Oh—there she was. Sitting right on the other side of Sam. She settled back into her chair, nervously fiddling with her bracelet. Well, at least her mother and father were NEAR each other, even if they weren’t sitting side by side.

  For about fifteen minutes, one of the men from the Rotary Club read from a piece of paper about the ten kids who had been nominated. Each kid who Maeve heard about sounded more amazing than the one before. One had started a tutoring program. Another was helping to organize volunteers at a hospital. By the third description that she heard, Maeve felt pretty certain that she wasn’t going to win, and she felt free to let her attention drift a little. She kept sneaking looks at her parents out of the corner of her eye.

  “Our real purpose tonight is to commend all ten of these individuals,” the man from the Rotary Club said. “But we wanted to give a special certificate of achievement to three of the nominees whose work, in our minds, showed unusual diligence and determination, and who truly exemplify the ideals of young adult community service.”

  Maeve’s mouth felt dry. She really had NO idea that she’d find this whole experience so nerve-wracking.

  The first award went to a boy from a junior high in Boston. His name was Simon, and he had started an after-school program teaching English to kids who spoke other languages. Everyone clapped loudly when Simon came up to accept his certificate. Maeve couldn’t believe how poised and self-assured he was. He thanked a bunch of people when he made his speech, but he made it sound like he hadn’t practiced at all—like he was used to getting awards every day of the week!