Letters from the Heart

by Annie Bryant

  The second certificate went to a girl named Hannah something-or-other who had been volunteering as a coach, teaching soccer to first and second graders with special physical needs. Everyone clapped really hard for her. Because Avery knew her from soccer, she started whistling and stamping when Hannah’s name was called.

  Hannah came bounding up to claim her certificate, a big grin on her face. She was every bit as poised and articulate as Simon when she thanked the man from the Rotary Club who gave her the award. Maeve had to hand it to her. Like Simon, she looked completely natural and at ease. She said a bunch of things about the kids she coached and how inspiring they were, and people kept clapping and clapping.

  Maeve could feel her hands growing sweaty…just like Riley Lee’s had been when they’d danced together a few weeks ago. Being on stage never bothered Maeve before. This was so strange. All of a sudden she just wanted to go home.

  “Thank you, Hannah,” Mrs. Fields said, getting to her feet with a smile. “And finally, our third certificate of merit goes to…” There was an expectant pause. “Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, for her Project Thread. Maeve encouraged a group of students to make blankets for children living in a homeless shelter. These special gifts touched their hearts and made a tangible difference to their lives.”

  Maeve couldn’t believe her ears. She sat completely frozen, as if she were glued to her chair.

  “Maeve—you WON!” Avery shrieked, practically in her ear. “You’ve got to go up there and get your certificate! GO!”

  Maeve felt like she couldn’t move. Her feet seemed to be made of lead. What had happened to the graceful acceptance walk that she’d practiced? It took both Avery and Katani tugging at her arms to pull her out of her seat. She felt like every word in the English language went right out of her head as she stumbled up to the podium. Mrs. Fields was beaming down at her, looking proud and happy.

  She handed Maeve a large certificate, gesturing for her to come over to the podium to say something.

  Maeve blinked. Here it was—her chance to make her speech. She tried desperately to remember what she wanted to say. Come on, she scolded herself. You rehearsed this! She knew that she wanted to thank people. Her parents. Her friends. The kids at Jeri’s Place. Thank you to…to…

  “Um,” Maeve said into the microphone. It made a scratching sound, and she jumped back. The faces in the auditorium swam in front of her. “Um—thank you. Thanks,” she said. And that was it. That was all she said! Not to mention the fact that she almost tripped on her way back down from the stage. Those platform shoes, Maeve thought; they get you every time.

  Her face was flaming red. She could feel it.

  “Way to go, Maeve,” Avery whispered, patting her arm. “You’re awesome.”

  “Good job,” Charlotte said with a big smile.

  Isabel’s eyes were shining.

  And Katani—who NEVER hugged in public—actually broke out of character and engulfed her in a warm hug.

  Her friends kept patting her warmly on the shoulder as she took her seat again. Her palms felt damp and her heart was pounding. Wow—who knew that this could happen? Maeve had always assumed that stage fright was just something that happened in books. Maybe it was the stress about her parents…she wasn’t sure. For once in her life, Maeve understood the phrase “tongue-tied.” That was exactly what it had felt like up there—as if her tongue were tied in knots.

  “Good job up there. Nice and short,” Avery said comfortingly.

  “I choked up,” Maeve whispered. “I totally blew it.”

  “But you won,” Katani reminded her. “Way to go, Maeve.”

  Her friends all wanted to inspect her certificate. Everyone passed it around, admiring it, but Maeve was feeling worse by the minute. “I meant to thank you guys,” she whispered. “I meant to thank LOTS of people, and I didn’t. I feel terrible.”

  “Maeve, don’t worry,” Isabel said, giving Maeve a quick hug. “We’re just proud of you, okay?”

  The awards ceremony was coming to a close, and before Maeve knew it, her classmates were swarming around her. Betsy and Abby and Riley and Nick…it was hard for anyone to get close, so many kids were trying to come up and say congratulations! She saw Dillon, hanging back with Pete and Nick, and her cheeks reddened again. WHY couldn’t she have said something suave and eloquent up there? She’d had her big moment, and she’d CHOKED!

  “Nice job, Maeve,” Dillon said. To Maeve’s amazement, he looked slightly embarrassed. Dillon Johnson—blushing? Now there was a first. “Seriously,” he said, raising his eyes and meeting hers. “That’s really cool, Maeve.”

  Even through the haze of her embarrassment, Maeve couldn’t help registering the fact that Dillon had actually COME UP TO HER and said something nice. This was a big milestone.

  “Thanks,” Maeve said, making major eye contact and playing up the moment for all it was worth. Okay, she’d blown it up on the podium; that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to make up for it now.

  “Maybe,” Dillon said, leaning closer and lowering his voice, “We could go out and celebrate sometime.”

  Maeve’s heartbeat quickened. “Uh…that would be nice. I’d like that,” she said, without missing a beat. Well thank heavens her ability to speak had come back to her NOW. Dillon Johnson had asked her out! Right there in the Community Center! Maeve thought she might quite possibly die of joy right on the spot. Dillon was already being pulled away by Pete and Nick, but Maeve kept her eyes on his back as they left the room. Maybe the night wasn’t a complete disaster after all. Her stomach was a little more settled now.

  “Maeve!” It was her mom, coming up to her with a huge smile on her face. “Oh, honey—congratulations! I’m so proud of you!”

  Her parents! In all her excitement and embarrassment, Maeve had almost forgotten her secret mission tonight. “Where’s Daddy?” she said, as her mother gave her a quick hug.

  She needn’t have asked—he was right behind her, looking as proud and happy as she could imagine. As proud and happy as her mom.

  “I always knew that blanket project was a great idea,” her father said with a huge smile on his face.

  Maeve hugged him, but she could see her mother’s expression change. Uh-oh—this wasn’t such a good remark on her father’s part. Her mother had been critical of the blanket project, thinking that it was taking way too much of Maeve’s time. She’d better change the subject before—

  But it was too late.

  “You know, Ross, I ALSO liked Maeve’s blanket project. Please don’t say that in that kind of voice,” her mother retorted in a low, hurt voice.

  “Carol, this isn’t about you! I was actually talking to Maeve!” her father said, irritated.

  Maeve winced. She didn’t want them arguing. Not here!

  This was definitely not the way that things were supposed to happen.

  “You guys,” she said quickly, putting her hand on each parent’s arm. “Can we go out for ice cream somewhere to celebrate? Just the four of us?”

  Her parents exchanged glances. “Sure,” her mother said at last. But she didn’t sound ecstatic about it.

  Her father was quiet on the way to the car, too. But Maeve ignored that.

  Tonight may not have been perfect, but it was pretty darned close. She’d actually won the award! Every time she looked at the certificate she felt a thrill go through her. She’d done a good job—a terrific job in fact! And everyone that she cared about was there to celebrate her success. And to top it off, Dillon had asked her out.

  Okay, maybe her parents were a little touchy around each other. But Maeve assured herself that they were just worn out from the tensions of the week. She couldn’t believe that her father would still go along with his plan to move out on Sunday. Not now. Not when she’d been the perfect model daughter—and even one with an award to prove it!

  Montoya’s was packed with kids after the awards ceremony, so Maeve suggested that they go to an old favorite of hers—the Ice Cream Shoppe, a won
derful, ’50s-style diner that served ice cream sundaes at an old-fashioned counter. She noticed that her mother sat at the fourth stool and her father at the first, leaving her and Sam to sit in between them. And after the first delicious bites of ice cream, Maeve started to sense that maybe this hadn’t been the best plan. Her mother was subdued, and her father kept directing most of his conversation to Maeve or Sam.

  Finally, her mother cleared her throat. “I know this is a celebration tonight, Maeve. But we should probably talk a little bit about what’s happening this weekend. Would you two like to help Dad move some things over to the new place tomorrow?”

  Her father looked searchingly at Maeve and Sam. “I’d really appreciate your help,” he said. “And if you come over tomorrow and help me move, you’ll already know the place a little bit by Sunday. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me there on Sunday night.”

  Maeve’s ears buzzed. This was real. It was really going to happen.

  “Maeve?” Her father put his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”

  Maeve felt foolish. Had she really thought that she could get them to change their minds? Just by being helpful? Just by winning an award?

  Avery was right. Parents did what they were going to do no matter what. She’d been unbelievably naive to think otherwise.

  “I’ll help move boxes!” her brother said, polishing off his ice cream. Sam looked perfectly fine with the idea. Or at least USED to the idea by now.

  That’s because he’s admitted it to himself, Maeve thought. He hasn’t been dreaming all week, the way I have, that they’ll change their minds. Her brother was little, but he was a realist. Maeve blinked back tears. She was such a dreamer. She always thought she could change the world.

  Well, this time it looked like she couldn’t. No matter what she did, her parents were going to go ahead with this. And Maeve didn’t see what she could possibly do to make things better.

  “What’s the matter?” her father asked late that night, when Maeve padded down to the kitchen in her favorite slippers. “You can’t sleep either?”

  Maeve shook her head, pulling a chair up to the kitchen table.

  “How about some warm milk with cinnamon and honey?”

  She nodded. It was her father’s specialty—and it almost always soothed her enough to help her get sleepy again. She couldn’t remember the last time that he’d made it for her; she realized that this might never happen again. Not the same way. Coming downstairs and finding her dad here. All four of them together in one house.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he said, putting his hand under her chin and lifting her face up so that his eyes met hers. “You doing okay?”

  Maeve’s eyes swam with tears. “It’s just that I thought you and Mom would change your minds when you saw how smoothly things were going and how much better I was doing with everything. I didn’t think you’d really go through with this.”

  Her father nodded. That was one of the things that Maeve adored about her father—she could really tell him whatever was on her mind, and he didn’t get freaked out. He liked to say that he was hard to shock, and it was true.

  “That’s kind of understandable. I think Mom and I feel a little bit the same way. We didn’t really think it would come to this either. Maeve, this is hard. We can’t pretend it isn’t.”

  “Why can’t you just stay?” Maeve asked, the tears spilling over her cheeks. “Can’t you two figure this out somehow? I know someone whose mom and dad saw a marriage counselor,” she added, brushing away the tears. “And they said it helped!”

  “We’ve been seeing a counselor,” her father told her. “And we’re going to keep seeing her, Maeve. But she also thinks that this is a good idea. We’re at the point where we just need to stand back and see ourselves and each other for who we really are. We’re hoping that living apart for a while will let us do that better.”

  Her father went over to the stove to start heating up some milk. Maeve wanted to keep this moment frozen in time forever. But she knew she couldn’t. “Dad,” she said, barely trusting her voice. “Is there anything that Sam and I can do to help? You know…to help you and Mom figure it out?”

  Her father sighed. “I’m afraid this one is up to us, Maeve. But you CAN do something. Something really important: Don’t blame yourself. Don’t burden yourself by thinking that it’s up to you to make us get along better. Try to be honest about your feelings. It’s tough enough to go through something like this and hide how you really feel.”

  Maeve swallowed. She had been thinking that somehow she’d been responsible.

  “And Maeve,” her father added, “don’t shut your friends out. You’re going to need them. Now more than ever. They’re there to help you, especially in hard times.”

  It was like he could read her mind, Maeve thought. Would that still be true after this weekend? Would they still be close, even when her father wasn’t living with them anymore?

  Part Two

  Putting It Back Together

  CHAPTER 12

  Moving Day

  * * *

  Notes to Self:

  Remember: DO NOT freak out if Dad’s new place is v. small. Don’t make him feel any worse about this than he already does.

  HOW small is small??? I know he said two bedrooms. I know I’m going to have to share a room with my brother. BUT—HOW SMALL IS SMALL???

  Remember: Bring movie star posters for my half of the bedroom wall. Avery says it’s important to make your bedroom in your other house feel like home. Also bring pink beanbag chair. Can use as a divider between me and Sam. Also bring old boom box. Can be repaired. Also teen mags. Need them.

  Remember: a pack of cards. Don’t know why this is a good idea but Avery says it’s WAY IMPORTANT for the first day. And she should know. She’s been there.

  Was Dillon serious about going out? Find this out somehow. Be v. subtle. Get Katani to ask him.

  * * *

  Phew. Maeve took a deep breath. She looked around her bedroom one last time to see if there was anything else she could take over with her to her new room at Dad’s apartment. She and Sam weren’t staying over tonight—they were just going to have dinner with Dad, and then come back home. Next weekend would be their first time sleeping over at his new place. But Maeve was still nervous. She hadn’t seen her dad’s place yet. Last weekend Maeve’s mother had taken Sam and Maeve downtown for lunch and a trip to Filene’s Basement while her dad rented a U-Haul to move over a few big pieces of furniture. Maeve was glad she did. It would have been too sad to see furniture leaving the house. Today they would just head over in the car, with a few odds and ends. Her dad’s philodendrons—how was it possible to keep a couple of plants alive since college?—and his collection of LPs, or “vinyls,” as he liked to call them. Her dad was a pack rat, like Maeve. He hated throwing anything out.

  “Okay, you two. Let’s go check this place out,” her father said, coming upstairs to get Maeve and Sam. The Taurus was packed up, and they were ready to go.

  Maeve threw a parting kiss to her guinea pigs. This morning she had renamed them Ben and Jen. “I loved Alias,” she explained on I.M. to Katani and Isabel.

  “Don’t worry, babies. I’m only going to be a few hours,” she cooed. She scooped each one up for one last snuggle and tickled Jen’s tummy.

  Guinea pigs, she thought affectionately, are fabulous. Truly a girl’s best friend.

  “Maeve, come on,” Sam whined. “They can’t understand you. They’re RODENTS.”

  Maeve glared at him, sweeping down the stairs and hurrying outside to the sidewalk, where her father was waiting. What did her brother know? Maeve’s guinea pigs were very sensitive creatures, she was sure of it. When she was sad, they drooped. When she was happy, they scampered all over their cage! Today, Dad’s moving day, was unquestionably a “Drooping Day.”

  So this was it. Her dad was moving out.

  The strangest thing was how low-key it felt. Her mom had disappeared on an “errand”—now THAT was cl
early planned, Maeve thought. And her dad was acting like they were just driving down the street. Which they were, in a sense, but still…

  How do you mark things like this? Maeve thought. How do you manage to make something this important feel big enough, without falling apart?

  It was hard getting into the car. Sam started to cry, and her father couldn’t look at either of them. Maeve took a deep breath.

  The trick really was pretending that everything was okay. Maybe you got through tough moments like this by forcing yourself to believe that somehow they really WEREN’T that tough.

  It was like acting—that’s all. All she had to do was swallow hard and pretend like she was going on a cool trip.

  “Come on,” she said, trying for what sounded like an upbeat tone. “Dad isn’t moving to Mars, Sam. Okay? It’s just Washington Square—less than a mile away. And we’re going to be over all the time! So much you’re going to be sick of us, Dad!” she assured her father, giving his arm a warm squeeze.

  Her dad looked as choked up as Sam.

  Great. Looked like she was going to have to be the strong one here.

  Maeve picked up the duffel bag her father had left on the sidewalk, peering into the back of the car to see if there was any space left. But the bag weighed a ton, and she quickly set it down.

  “What do you have in here, Dad? It feels like rocks,” Maeve said, staggering backward under the weight of the bag.

  “Um—photographs. Scrapbooks and stuff,” her dad said. “Mostly photographs of you and Sam.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” Maeve said. Her voice wobbled and all her acting powers seemed to be getting her nowhere. It almost broke her heart, thinking of her dad going through the photographs…picking out ones to take with him. But when she saw Sam start to sniffle again, she drew herself up as tall as she could and tried again. Once they were in the car, it would be easier, she told herself. Once they were really on their way.