by Annie Bryant
Tears spilled down Maeve’s cheeks. But her father wasn’t done.
“Maeve, this has been a hard time for all of us. But that doesn’t mean that any of us should let up on what we care most about. Our trust for each other, our respect for each other, the consideration that we show each other as a family. You really let us down tonight—and you let your friends down, too.”
Maeve struggled to regain her composure. She felt so awful about what had happened. It was horrible being punished. But worst of all was the look of utter disappointment in her parents’ eyes.
Her mother put her hand on her father’s arm. “Ross, I’m going home. You’ve got everything under control now.” She turned back to Maeve with a sigh. “I’ll see you again on Sunday afternoon, Maeve. We can talk more then.” She gave her daughter a hug and turned to leave.
Maeve sank down onto the couch, trying to piece together everything that had happened. Suddenly she remembered the dinner party at Avery’s the following night.
“Wait,” she said, her voice catching. “I’m supposed to go to Avery’s house tomorrow night. Remember? Her mom’s having that dinner party to raise money for her old school. She asked us all to come over and help her.”
Her mother glanced briefly at her father. “Ross?” she asked.
It was strange, Maeve thought. She couldn’t remember the last time her parents had seemed to be in such close agreement. It was like they’d scripted all of this!
“What do you think, Carol?” Ross asked, his eyes on hers.
Maeve’s mother shrugged. “It’s a previous commitment. A responsibility to someone else. I’m okay with it, Maeve, as long as you’re back home by nine o’clock. But no activities outside the house tomorrow.”
Maeve’s father nodded. “I’m fine with that as well. And tomorrow during the day, Maeve, you can help me unpack.”
Maeve nodded dumbly. She didn’t really want to think much about tomorrow. It was horrible having her parents so mad at her. But they were her parents. They had to forgive her—one day. What about her friends? How was she ever going to be able to explain to them what had happened? Why she’d lied…to everyone.
* * *
Notes to Self:
Consider moving to an island near Fiji. Maybe people there won’t be mad at me.
Mom and Dad HAVE to forgive me eventually, don’t they? Isn’t there a law somewhere about that?
Maybe I can offer to let Avery keep Ben and Jen another week???
Maybe I can offer to (gulp) help Katani with all that laundry?
Maybe I can just tell them all I am so, so, so sorry.
Boy, did I learn my lesson.
* * *
“You sure you won’t go to bed?” her father asked her. It was almost twelve thirty, but Maeve didn’t feel ready for bed yet. And it wasn’t just the prospect of that bunk bed, either.
“I’ll go soon. See you in the morning, Dad,” Maeve said.
She started flipping absently through one of the scrapbooks that her father had left on the coffee table. He was still unpacking, and this was one that Maeve hadn’t seen before. It looked old.
The front half of the book was filled with faded black-and-white photographs. Her father was a little boy in most of them. Maeve had seen some of these before, and she recognized them right away. Her father at the zoo with her grandfather. Her father sitting in front of a birthday cake shaped like a train. It made her feel a little funny, turning the pages and watching her father’s boyhood unfold before her. There was so much the little boy in these pictures didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that he would fall in love one day with Maeve’s mom. That they would have children together, that one day they would decide to separate.
Maeve dashed away a tear. She was beginning to recognize something. Her parents’ decision to separate really mattered to her. A lot. That didn’t mean she was going to be able to change it or make it better. Trying to be a “model daughter” wasn’t the answer either. But neither was thinking that she could make up her own rules and turn her back on her values. She needed to—how had Avery put it?—“take care of herself.”
Maeve kept turning the pages. At the back of the album she found a packet of yellowing letters tied with a black ribbon.
Love letters! Maeve thought. Maybe her father had written love letters to her mom…But even as she thought this, her eye fell on the signature at the bottom of the first letter. Ma. In pale, spidery script, slanted and elegant. They were from Nana to Daddy.
Her father had glued one letter carefully into the back of the album. It was a short letter, beautifully penned. Maeve read it slowly.
My dearest Ross,
You asked me today how to stop being a child. How to become a man. Those words touched me so much because I remember asking my own mother. How does one move from childhood to adulthood? I decided to write to you because letters can come from the heart in a way that spoken words sometimes can’t.
I can tell you this, my darling boy. Be true to who you are. Be honest. Be fair. Love your friends and your family and treat them with care and respect. The world is full of complexity and challenges, but you’ll be equal to them if you remember who you are. At the end of the day, look within your heart and ask yourself this: have I changed the world at all today for the better? If you can say yes, then you are on your way not just to becoming a man, but to becoming a fine human being. I love you, Ross.
Always,
Ma
Maeve traced the letters with her fingers, mouthing the words as she read. She could almost feel her grandmother writing these words to her, through her father, as if her grandmother had reached across the generations to hold her hand and offer her guidance. Maeve didn’t feel quite so worried about her friends anymore. She would find a way to explain to them, just as her father had suggested. More important, she had learned a lesson—one that she wouldn’t forget. And how had her father put it? Sometimes you need to make mistakes in order to figure out what to do in the future. Anyway, now the future was up to her.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am writing this letter straight from my heart to tell you how really, truly, totally sorry I am about everything that happened. I know that things are really hard for our family now. And I don't want to be a problem. So, I want you to know that I learned my lesson. And even though you two are living apart now, I know you both love me and always need to know where I am. You don’t have to worry about me. I have the best friends in the world and I have the best parents. I think I am a very lucky girl that way. Okay…I have a good brother, too. I will make you all proud of me.
Your daughter,
Maeve Kaplan-Taylor
P.S. Hugs and Kisses
P.P.S. I knew that if I wrote a letter you would know that I really mean everything I am saying.
CHAPTER 19
Hunting the Elusive Guinea Pig
Avery’s Blog
How to Catch a Guinea Pig
Set delicious pieces of food around the perimeter of your living room. Lettuce is good.
Try ringing a little bell while crawling around on all fours. You may look silly, but the guinea pig will probably hear you.
Bring over another guinea pig as a decoy. Have it run around and see if it goes someplace, like under the curtains, looking for its friend.
Saturday afternoon, two catering trucks were parked in front of Avery’s house when she got back from soccer practice. A woman was setting up folding chairs in the dining room and another was deep in discussion with Avery’s mother in the kitchen.
Her mother called “hello” to Avery but was clearly distracted. “You’ll have to forgive me, honey,” she said. “We’re in the final stages of planning for tonight. Go ahead and make yourself a snack. We should be done in about half an hour.”
Avery dumped her soccer bag in the front hall and began to race upstairs. She had to clean the guinea pig cage and she had to find Beckham. This was getting serious. Suddenly, she turned around and headed downst
airs to the kitchen where Carla was working on the famous Caesar salad, the only thing she had to make for tonight since the caterers were doing the rest. Carla didn’t usually help out on Saturday, but she’d come in today to help Avery’s mom.
Avery got some newspapers from the recycling bin. And some large scissors to shred them with from the kitchen drawer. Carla was looking at her strangely. Avery knew that taking trash back into the house just before a party was not something Carla approved of.
“I have to clean their cages,” Avery said to Carla.
“The little rodent cages?” Carla clearly did not approve of Avery’s adopted pets.
“They’re guinea pigs,” Avery said, offended. “And their names are Hamm and Beckham.”
“Ham…back-ham…pigs should be bacon, not pets,” Carla said.
When Avery reached her room, it was in better shape than she thought it would be. Carla had done her usual magic. She had cleaned everything—except the cage. Avery was relieved to see it sitting in the corner, untouched, and rodent or bacon, Carla had left Hamm alone.
Was it possible, or did Hamm actually seem excited to see her? As Avery approached the cage, Hamm sniffed the bars and rolled on her back. It made her laugh. Hamm had real talent. She was going to have to remember to talk to Maeve about letting her continue to coach her. And Beckham, She was great. She could be a stunt guinea pig in some movie or something! If she could just find her. She wasn’t completely panicked yet because she had seen an article on the Internet about a guinea pig that was found after being lost for three months in the backyard.
Avery was still thinking about the article as she cleaned the cage, laying down the new shredded newspaper—sports pages and entertainment sections only. She checked her watch as she went. Only a half hour until people started to get here. Maybe she could still find Beckham.
Avery swallowed hard. But what if she couldn’t? How was she going to tell Maeve she’d lost one of her guinea pigs? Her poor friend was already traumatized, as her weird behavior the night before plainly demonstrated. And on top of all of that, now she was going to have to find out Beckham was gone!
Avery decided another search was in order. She looked everywhere—even in the basement. But there was still no sign of a guinea pig. Nothing.
She bumped into Carla, on her way up from the laundry room with table linens.
“Uh, Carla?” asked Avery. “You haven’t seen any little creatures running around down here, have you?”
Carla stared at her. “Little creatures?” she repeated. “If you mean that little guinea pig of yours, yes, I saw her, but not down here.”
Avery jumped up and down, throwing her arms around Carla. Beckham was saved!
Carla tried to keep the laundry from toppling over. “She’s right in your closet. I didn’t think you wanted your mother to find out,” she added. “So I kept the door closed. Did I do the right thing?”
“Carla, you are my savior.” Avery gave her another hug and ran right upstairs.
Avery ran upstairs two at a time and burst into her room. Disaster. Her closet door was open. Darn! She forgot she had opened it to put her gear away. And to top it all off she had left her bedroom door open. Beckham could be anywhere by now. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have pets. First the Marty fiasco and now this. The girls were going to be here any minute. She was going to have to tell Maeve the truth, and ask her friends for help. At least Beckham was in the house. She hoped.
SAVED BY THE BELL
Isabel, Charlotte, and Maeve were waiting for Avery at the door.
Avery’s mother had called all the parents with a personal invitation for their daughter to come to the event. Maeve’s father felt it would be rude for Maeve not to attend. Maeve’s mind wasn’t on guinea pigs though. “Where is Katani? Is she still mad at me?” Maeve asked nervously. “I am so sorry about all of this. Really, I am. I just don’t know how to make everything right.”
Avery cleared her throat. Maybe this wasn’t the best moment to further destroy Maeve’s life by telling her about Beckham. On the other hand…well, Maeve was going to find out for herself in about five minutes, when she looked in the guinea pigs’ cage upstairs and noticed there was exactly ONE little guy in there. Not two. Avery took a deep breath.
“Speaking of things not being right,” she said, trying for the right tone. Somehow it didn’t come out very well though. She sounded a little too flippant. “Uh…Maeve,” she said, when everyone turned to stare at her. “I have good news…and bad news.”
“I could use some good news,” Maeve said, looking at her. “I’m not sure I’m all that psyched for more bad news.”
“Well,” Avery said quickly, “here’s the good news. Hamm is doing just great. And she really seems to like having a bit more extra room in her cage.”
“Hamm?” Maeve repeated blankly, staring at her.
“Uh…yeah. Ben. Or Jen, I’m not sure which one it is. But I renamed them, see, after Mia Hamm and David Beckham. My two favorite soccer stars.”
“That’s so cute,” said Charlotte.
“Hamm,” Maeve repeated slowly. She was still staring at Avery. “Hamm…likes having more space? That’s the good news?” She looked horrified. “Avery, what’s the bad news? What happened to the other one? Beckett?”
“BECKHAM,” Avery corrected her. “You know, Bend It Like Beckham?”
Maeve was starting to turn red again. “What happened to him? I mean her? Avery, I trusted you! My guineas are like my…my…babies,” she sputtered.
“Calm down,” Avery whispered. The caterers were turning around to stare at them. “I’m sure she’s perfectly fine. It’s just…well…I don’t know exactly where she is, that’s all.”
“You LOST my guinea pig?” Maeve shrieked. “Avery, how could you?”
“I swear, all I did was turn around for one tiny second. I had them both out of their cage so they could run around a little. You told me they NEED exercise,” Avery defended herself. “And my mom came in to talk to me, and she must’ve sneaked out while we were talking. The door was barely open a CRACK. Then Carla found her and put her in the closet, but I didn’t know that…I left the closet door open…I’m sorry.”
Maeve calmed down enough to think for a minute. “That sounds like Ben,” she admitted. “I told you—she’s an escape artist. But you should’ve been watching!” she scolded.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Avery cried. “It’s not like ANY of us is perfect,” she added defensively, shooting Maeve a look.
Maeve didn’t say anything. She just stood silent.
“That’s not fair, Avery,” Isabel added sharply.
“You’re right. I’ve just been so worried,” stammered Avery. “Maeve, I’ve looked everywhere. But I can’t seem to find her! My mom’s been so focused on this dinner party tonight…there’s all these caterers setting up for it…I’m scared someone’s going to leave the door open…and she’ll escape.”
This was a terrible thought to contemplate. What a really bad weekend.
“Maeve,” she said miserably, hanging her head, “I’ve totally failed you. I swear, once we find Beckham, I’m not going to beg my mom for a pet anymore. And I’ll figure out some way to make this up to you…and Beckham. I promise!”
When Maeve saw how miserable Avery looked, she couldn’t stay mad at her. She knew what it was like to make a big mistake. “Let’s just find her, Avery,” Maeve said. She assured her, “she’s done the same thing with me. I had a friend who lost a guinea pig once for three weeks. It was so fat that it got stuck behind a piece of furniture and couldn’t get out until it lost weight. Then it squeezed out. Let’s just see if we can find her. Okay?”
“She’s probably under the eaves somewhere,” Maeve said. “Or in a closet or under a bureau,” Maeve suggested. “She likes small spaces.”
“Don’t worry,” Charlotte said to them both. “We’ll find her as soon as the party is over.”
Avery looked at herself in the mirror with
a groan. “WHY?” she wailed. “Why would anyone possibly think that dressing like this is a good idea?”
That broke the tension for the moment.
Maeve and Isabel exchanged amused glances. Avery managed to make her navy skirt and white sweater look like a suit of armor. She stood stiffly, arms out at her sides, a pinched and miserable look on her face. The way she walked suggested that her feet—in flats—were already killing her, and they hadn’t even left her bedroom yet.
They could hear the caterers busily setting up for dinner downstairs. Avery’s mother was rushing around like crazy, trying to finish getting dressed while calling out last-minute instructions about what needed to go where. Apparently Mr. Jameson, the big benefactor whom they were trying so hard to impress, was supposed to be seated at the head of the table, with Avery’s mother right at his side. The girls were way down at the other end with Scott.
“Avery! Have you seen the dining room? It looks like a really fancy restaurant in there!” Maeve exclaimed. Unlike Avery, Maeve loved fancy parties and getting dressed up. If it weren’t for her worries about Katani and Beckham, this would be Maeve’s idea of a perfect evening.
Speaking of Katani, she was walking toward them. “Hi. I’m sorry I’m late. My mother had to drop off a brief to a client. What’s up?” She looked at everyone but Maeve. Maeve had the impression that Katani was trying to pretend she wasn’t there. She wouldn’t even catch Maeve’s eye.
Distracting herself, Maeve picked up a piece of paper from Avery’s desk. “What’s this?”
“Oh…” Avery said mournfully, picking it up and studying it. “It’s some information I downloaded from Google on guinea pigs. Did you know that they’re descendants of South American rodents, and that they have three distinct sounds—a whistle, a purr, and a squeal?”
Maeve looked sad. “Poor Ben,” she said.
