From Willa, With Love

by Coleen Murtagh Paratore

  Everyone stops talking and looks to me.

  “Dr. S…. Mrs. S., please stand here.” I position them in front of the whale spoutin’ fountain. The guests form an arc around them.

  I feel a wave of nervousness, but then I take a deep breath and begin.

  I nod toward Dr. S. “I have never heard this man say ‘I love you’ to this woman.”

  Dr. S. laughs and smiles at Mrs. S.

  I nod at Mrs. S. “And I have never heard this woman say ‘I love you’ to this man.”

  Mrs. S.’s lips mouth the words silently to her groom, an action not lost on their assembled friends and family. I see my mom grab Sam’s hand and he pulls her in closer to him. I look briefly at Nana, feeling how much she misses Gramp.

  “But … whenever I am in their presence … I see it. I feel it. I know that this is love. True love. The kind of love some people wait a whole lifetime for, search the world for, wish and pray and hope beyond hope for. And you two”—I raise my champagne flute, and the guests follow me—”You have found it. Love.”

  I smile at them, my eyes wet with tears. I hold my glass higher. “Love. Love. Love. Love. Love … Love.”

  “Hear! Hear!” guests say. Glasses clink. We sip our toast.

  I nod for Sam to offer the first wish. And then, one by one, each guest raises a penny, expresses her or his wish for the happy couple, and then tosses the coin into the fountain.

  “Your idea?” Nana whispers in my ear.

  “Yes.”

  “Gramp and I are so proud of you, sweetheart.”

  I hug Nana. “I know, Nana. I feel it. Every single day.”

  There’s music and dancing. Lots of slow songs. I dance with Sam. I dance with Mr. S. I dance with Riley.

  “Great job, girl,” he says. “Great wedding.”

  “How’s Mum doing?” I say.

  “Strong as steel,” he says.

  “How about you?” I say.

  “I’m praying,” he says.

  “Me, too,” I say. “I just know Mum will beat this.”

  “Time for the cake?” my mother asks, tapping me gently on the shoulder. “It’s getting late.”

  “Oh, gosh, yes, Mom. Thanks. I almost forgot.”

  “I’ll go get it,” my mother says. “I put it in the library kitchen.”

  I feel sad thinking about how Rosie didn’t bake this wedding cake. How I used to put the charms in the center with the ribbons …

  “Willa,” Sam says, touching my arm. “Look.”

  Here comes my mother carrying the cake. A beautiful three-tiered wedding cake with ribbons streaming down.

  My mother walks to me and sets the cake on the table. “I hope I did it right,” she says.

  “You made the cake?” I say.

  “Oh, gosh, no,” Mother says. “Our new baker, Coby Mabitu, did. Wait until you meet him, Willa. He starts tomorrow. But I put in the Bramblebriar charms just like you usually do,” she says.

  My eyes fill with tears again.

  My mother just paid me a huge compliment.

  The best wedding planner ever just copied one of my ideas, one of my new traditions.

  I hug her. “Thank you, Mom.”

  She hugs me tighter. “It was a perfect wedding, Willa.”

  “Well, look at who my teacher was,” I say.

  “You’re teaching me, too, honey. It goes both ways.”

  Sam wraps an arm around each of us. “My two best girls in the world.”

  When we get home, I have a message from Will. He got home safe. His grandfather’s condition has stabilized. His grandmother is really grateful Will came so quickly. “I miss you, sis. Take good care of Salty. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

  I call Tina. She heard from Will, too. She starts crying on the phone. “I miss him so much, Willa. I think I really love him. I mean really, really love him.”

  “I know,” I say. “I think you do, too.”

  “Hey, maybe we can do something together tomorrow,” she says. “Oh, wait, I know. Let’s go shopping. I want to see if Lammers’ still has those pink sneakers.”

  “Sure,” I say. “Sounds good.”

  Tina copying fashion ideas from me? Mother copying wedding ideas from me? Well, this is a most surprising summer.

  Salty lobs into my room. I hug him tight. He looks at me and smiles. No, really, I’m not kidding. My dog smiles. He does.

  I go get the phone and look up Ruby’s number. I tell her that Tina and I want her to go shopping with us tomorrow.

  “Pink sneakers?” she says.

  “That’s the plan,” I say.

  “Great,” she says. “We can all match. Sounds fun.”

  I’m turning back up to my room when the phone rings.

  “Rosie!”

  “Hey, girl,” she says. “How was the wedding?”

  I fill her in on the details. She says she and Lilly are doing fine. Her new neighbors helped carry in all their boxes. There’s a girl Lilly’s age next door.

  “And Lilly already started teaching her to read caterpillar,” Rosie says, and we laugh.

  “Tell her Aunt Willa is proud of her and I’ll send her more books soon.”

  There’s a knock on my door. “Come on in.”

  Sam.

  “Just wanted to say what a great job you did with the wedding.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Did you write that toast yourself?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “It was beautiful,” he says.

  “Thanks.”

  “You know what, Willa?”

  “What?”

  “You inspire me.”

  I smile at him.

  “I’ve decided to start writing again.”

  “Really, Dad? That’s great.”

  “Well … I don’t know how great it will be, but I feel like writing again, and that feels good.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Willa Plants a Garden

  Read the best books while you are young And then, someday, when you are ready, You will write great books of your own.

  — My Gramp Tweed

  Rosie’s replacement, Coby Mabitu, is in the kitchen when I report for work.

  He is African, from Kenya, jet-black skin, tall and thin. He speaks so softly, I have to lean in closer to hear. There’s an aura of peace about him.

  “Try the muffins,” he says. “Blueberry.”

  Oh, my gosh, can this guy cook!

  After breakfast duty, Salty Dog and I head to the beach.

  We run up one side of the Spit and down along the other. It’s cloudy, looks like rain later. Only a few people here and there.

  I lie on my towel and read the jacket copy for Among the Hidden.

  It’s about a society where it is forbidden for a family to have a third child. The main character, Luke, is one of these forbidden “shadow children” and he spends his whole life in hiding, never going out, never having a friend. Then, one day, he sees a girl’s face in a window and realizes she is a shadow child, too….

  Ooh nice, what an interesting premise. I open the book and dive in.

  “Willa.”

  I open my eyes. I had fallen asleep. Jess is looking down at me.

  I sit up. Salty next to me, sound asleep, not much of a guard dog, that one.

  “It’s gonna rain,” Jess says. He squats down beside me. He smells like the sun and that Abercrombie cologne he wears.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay Sunday night,” I say. “My parents wanted me home.”

  “No worries,” he says.

  He picks up the book on the sand next to me, reads the cover, smiles. “You and books.”

  I feel a raindrop on my face. Salty barks; he felt a drop, too. Salty’s not a big fan of rain. Too much like a bath, I guess.

  “Willa …” Jess says. “Listen. I think Luke told Joey about you and me.”

  You and me. “Are we a you and me?” I say.

  Jess leans in toward me. He stares at my ne
ck. He touches the heart-shaped locket. Before I can stop him, he opens it. He looks at the faces, me and JFK. He lets the heart drop from his hands.

  “No,” he says. “I guess not.” He stands up.

  “Jess, wait.”

  “Later, Willa.” He walks off quickly.

  “Jess, please, come on, let’s talk.”

  He keeps on walking. I watch him leave. I want to say stop. I want to say go. Not knowing which is true, I keep silent.

  The rain comes now, fast and heavy. “Come on, Salty, let’s go!”

  I get on my bike and we hurry home, the rain washing away the sea smell from Salty and the river of tears from my cheeks.

  I shower, put on comfy sweats, snuggle under my summer comforter. Hours later when I wake up, the storm has passed and sunlight is streaming through my window. That’s Cape weather for you.

  I check my messages.

  Joey. He says he’s sorry for being mad and hanging up on me. Truth is, he sort of had a date, too, with Lorna. Just one time, nothing serious. He misses me. He can’t wait to see me. He’s had it with Florida. He’ll be home next weekend.

  Next weekend!

  The next message is from Jess. He says he’s sorry for being mad about the locket. He likes me, a lot. He hopes I’ll give us a chance. He and his parents are headed out to Martha’s Vineyard for a music festival next weekend. “Come with me, K?”

  Next weekend? JFK’s coming home next weekend.

  I go to my desk, get out my journal.

  I write, and write, and write.

  I decide to stop thinking and worrying about what will happen with Jess and JFK. There are more things to focus on in my life right now. Friends to support as they deal with cancer … (Reason: And you were too quick to judge Ruby, Willa. She wasn’t the one who told JFK. Willa: I know, I know) My brother, Will, who I hope will return to us soon … An inn to help run … A beautiful Cape summer to enjoy.

  But what about Jess and JFK? What will I do next weekend? Welcome JFK home? Go to the Vineyard with Jess?

  Let it go, Willa. You’re going to drive yourself crazy.

  I look over at my bed, remembering that heart-to-heart conversation with my mother. She said time takes care of everything. Just live your life and move on.

  In this moment, I make a decision.

  I am taking a break from romance.

  I dig out my stationery and write a note to each of them saying I just want to be friends, for right now anyway. I need some time to sort things out and focus on my family and myself and that I hope they understand. I seal the envelopes and hurry down to the mailbox. Writing a letter might be a lazy way out, but, hey, I’m a writer. Writers write.

  Back up in my room, I pick up my pen and open my journal again.

  Mum always tells us to “get out of” ourselves, to focus on others, to think about how we can use our life to make a good difference in this world.

  What can I do? I think I already decided that.

  I look at my bookcase, all my beautiful books. I walk over and take down Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery, one of my very dearest favorite old friends. I open the book, leaf through the pages. I hug Anne as if she is real. Which of course, to me, she is.

  I lay the book on my desk, turn back the cover, and stick on one of my FROM THE LIBRARY OF labels. I look back through my journal for the language I got in my head that day I first got this idea, then I write:

  Take me home, free, if you wish to read,

  Then, when you are finished, replant the seed.

  Leave me somewhere for a new friend to find.

  A book is a perennial thing,

  It blooms on and on and on.

  From Cape Cod, With Love,

  Willa Havisham

  I cut a piece of sticky label, write FREE, and stick that word on the cover.

  Then Anne and I set off into town.

  Minutes later I leave her on a bench on Main Street—the bench where Ruby and I sat the other night when she told me her scary news—the bench I remember Nana and Gramp Tweed sitting on when they first were falling in love—the bench JFK and I have sat on many a time enjoying an ice cream cone.

  At the corner I turn around and look.

  Anne is sitting there waiting.

  A red bird alights on the armrest of the bench and then off again it goes.

  I planted the seed,

  my part is done,

  who knows how this garden will grow?

  Willa’s Summer

  Skinny-Punch Pix List #3

  Among the Hidden, Margaret Peterson Haddix

  The BFG, Roald Dahl

  Ella Enchanted, Gail Carson Levine

  Everything on a Waffle, Polly Horvath

  The Fire-Eaters, David Almond

  Firegirl, Tony Abbott

  The Golden Book on Writing, David Lambuth

  Hope Was Here, Joan Bauer

  Kira-Kira, Cynthia Kadohata

  Make Lemonade, Virginia Euwer Wolff

  Out of the Dust, Karen Hesse

  If this is a book you own, not one you need to return,

  perhaps you’d like to make your own Pix List of

  favorite books on the next page?

  Coleen

  Pix List

  A Letter to My Readers

  Dear Friends,

  Since the publication of the first “Willa book,” The Wedding Planner’s Daughter, in 2005, and with each succeeding one—The Cupid Chronicles, Willa by Heart, Forget Me Not, and Wish I Might—thousands of you have written to say how much you love reading about Willa and her life on Cape Cod. Many of you have been inspired to visit this beautiful part of the planet on vacation; some return summer after summer, year after year; others say you are planning your very first visit to Cape Cod. I hope it is all you have dreamed of and more.

  While many of the beaches, shops, restaurants, and points of interest mentioned in the Willa books are quite real places (and favorites of Willa and mine), alas you will find the town of Bramble, the Bramblebriar Inn, and Sweet Bramble Books only within the covers of the Willa books.

  What you will find when you visit us are towns just as quaint and picturesque, inns just as warm and inviting, and bookstores and candy shops galore.

  In celebration of the fifth anniversary of the original book, The Wedding Planner’s Daughter, and in honor of you, Willa’s fans and kindred spirits, I have decided to follow Willa’s lead.

  If you are visiting Cape Cod and perchance stop by my Cape town of Falmouth (the town I most modeled Bramble after), you may very well spot a book sitting on a bench.

  If you see FREE on the cover, open it.

  If there is a label inside, FROM CAPE COD, WITH LOVE, this is a gift to you from me and Willa, a seed to be planted and passed along when you are finished, and on and on the garden will bloom.

  With all best wishes,

  Coleen Murtagh Paratore

  Acknowledgments

  With thanks to my brilliant editor, Jennifer Rees, who is such a joy to work with; to Lillie Howard for the gorgeous book covers; and to David Levithan and all of the outstanding people at Scholastic Press and Scholastic Book Clubs and Fairs.

  To my wonderful agents, Tracey and Josh Adams, and to all friends of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library, Charlotte, NC, where I happily discovered quotes about books inscribed outside the building (jotted down then and now used in this story) as I explored downtown Charlotte, NC, while participating in the wonderful Novello Festival of Reading a few years back.

  To Willa’s fans and kindred spirits throughout the world who write with comments, questions, and suggestions, and to ask when the “next Willa” is coming.

  To my beloved godmother and aunt, Jane Spain Ducatt, who I think was the first person to introduce me to book plates and whom I am certain was the person who gave me the first book I really truly loved: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.

  To my mother, Peg Spain Murtagh, who I am quite convinced has read more books, and loved
more books, and generously purchased and loaned and passed on more books than any one woman on the planet. Every time I visit her, she talks excitedly about at least one new book she’s reading or one that I absolutely must read. Everywhere you look, there are books. Books, books, books. It’s often tricky finding clear footage to the table, where we will sit for tea because there are so many stacks of books about—books she will make notes in and reread and treasure over and over again.

  Thank you for sharing your great love of reading with me, Mom. You are, and always will be, my greatest inspiration.

  And always, and forever, my three dear beautiful sons, Dylan, Connor, and Chris. I cherish the memories of us sitting on the couch when you were little, reading, reading, reading the books you so excitedly selected when we “shopped” at the Guilderland Public Library. Today I cherish hearing your very candid opinions about the books you are required to read in school. Keep on trusting your own inner voice. I am so proud of you.

  Read on,

  Write on,

  Dream BIG,

  C.M.P.

  About the Author

  Coleen Murtagh Paratore is the author of the popular The Wedding Planner’s Daughter series, which includes most recently Forget Me Not and Wish I Might, as well as Sunny Holiday and Sweet and Sunny. The mother of three teenage sons, she lives in upstate New York and on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Visit Coleen online at www.coleenparatore.com.

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2011 by Coleen Murtagh Paratore

  Cover Art © By Michael Frost

  Cover Design By Lillie Howard

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. scholastic, scholastic press, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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