Give and Take

by Laura Dower

  When they were finally “dismissed” to go meet their adoptive grandparents in the rooms, Ivy pulled Madison aside.

  “Look,” she said seriously. “I’m sorry about what I said on the bus, okay?”

  “You are?” Madison asked with disbelief.

  “I bet your fake grandmother is really nice,” Ivy said. “I only said what I said because … well, just forget it.”

  “Yeah, I will,” Madison said.

  “And don’t tell anyone what I said, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Madison promised it would be their secret. She hadn’t had a secret with Ivy since third grade.

  “See you later on the bus,” Ivy said as she walked away.

  Madison nodded and headed off in the direction of Mrs. Romano’s room.

  Along the way, she peered into the rooms that had standard linoleum tile floors. Some had art on the walls, bookcases, and bureaus. Others had bare walls and plain wood furniture that Madison guessed belonged to The Estates.

  The residents themselves were strolling through the halls or eating late lunches from rolling trays in their rooms. Madison saw a pair of older women dressed in sweatpants and T-shirts. They said hello and told her they were heading off to Seniors Yoga class. Madison laughed at that. She imagined that if Gramma Helen lived here one day that was exactly what she might be doing.

  Some of the people walking around didn’t look as happy as Mrs. Holly Wood or other residents. An older man coughed his way past her, pushing his walker inch by inch. Another woman growled at Madison for getting in her way.

  Madison finally reached Mrs. Romano’s room and found her adopt-a-grandmother lying across the bed.

  “I’ve been expecting you,” Mrs. Romano said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Of course I’m back,” Madison said. “How are you?”

  “Tired,” Mrs. Romano said. “My medication makes me tired sometimes. I just need to stay still. Sometimes it’s the weather that does me in. My aching bones say it’s going to snow soon.”

  “I hope so,” Madison said. “I want to go skiing.”

  “You ski?” Mrs. Romano said, laughing. “I bet you fly down the mountain.”

  Madison smiled. “Well, not exactly. I’m just a beginner.”

  “Well, someday you’ll fly,” Mrs. Romano said.

  “Like your birds,” Madison said.

  Mrs. Romano laughed again. “Oh yes!”

  “Have you been watching them today?” Madison asked.

  “There were a few cardinals out this morning. But the cold keeps some of them away, I think.”

  “You should have a bird feeder,” Madison said.

  “I suppose so,” Mrs. Romano said. “But they don’t let us do anything special around here. Except have special visitors.” She winked.

  Madison sat down in the chair near Mrs. Romano’s bed and they talked more about the birds. Fifteen minutes into their conversation, Madison finally got the nerve to ask personal questions about family. Who was the real Mrs. Romano and what was her life like before she moved into The Estates? Madison sounded like a news reporter.

  Mrs. Romano dove way back into her memory banks. She began to reminisce about her girlhood. She had been born in Canada on an island where her father and grandfather were fishermen. Her mother was the lighthouse keeper. One sister had died when Mrs. Romano was younger, but she had a brother who lived in Europe. Her love for birds had started when a young boy she liked once gave her a parakeet as a present.

  Madison glanced over and saw the photo of the parakeet on the wall.

  “His name was Wally,” Mrs. Romano explained. “Like my beau.”

  Madison liked the word beau instead of boyfriend. She wondered what it would sound like to say that Hart was her beau.

  “Did you get married?” Madison asked.

  Mrs. Romano shook her head. “Never found the time,” she laughed.

  “I think it’s nice that you have so many bird friends,” Madison said. “At least they can’t get all weird on you … like my friends do.”

  “I’m sure your friends aren’t getting weird on purpose,” Mrs. Romano said.

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m watching my life happen from the outside looking in,” Madison explained. “But I guess I’ll just get over it.”

  As Madison explained the whole story, Mrs. Romano bowed her head down.

  “Go over to my dresser,” Mrs. Romano said from her perch on the bed. “Get me that snow globe on top there. I want to tell you a story.”

  Madison walked over to find the small globe amid a pile of silk scarves.

  “Now, take it in your hand and shake it,” Mrs. Romano instructed.

  Madison lifted the globe into the air and shook hard. Inside the plastic, a miniature snowman danced under a glittering snowfall. He had a black hat and green scarf, stick arms, and a carrot nose. The snow inside the globe sparkled.

  “Once upon a time,” Mrs. Romano explained, “my best friend gave that globe to me. Every winter, she and I would build a snowman together. No matter where we were, we’d make time to get together and build one. She flew all the way from London, England, to make a snowman with me one year. But then another year she called to say that she had the flu and she couldn’t meet with me. She sent this instead: the perfect snowman inside that globe.”

  “What a cool story,” Madison said.

  “That was the last snowman we ever built,” Mrs. Romano explained.

  “Last?” Madison cried. “What happened?”

  “The flu turned out to be pneumonia. Yes, it was very sad. But I didn’t tell you the story to make you sad,” Mrs. Romano said.

  Madison felt tears in her own eyes. “You didn’t?” she sniffled.

  “You should always tell your friends what’s really on your mind. Don’t waste a moment. What’s given to us can be taken away just like that and we need to treasure it.”

  “Wow,” Madison said. “That’s something Gramma Helen would say.”

  “Come sit by me,” Mrs. Romano said. “When you visited last week, I was so grouchy. But you made me happy. I wanted you to know that.”

  “You’re welcome,” Madison said.

  “Sometimes I’m not myself,” Mrs. Romano said. “Well, that’s what Nurse Ana and some of the other aides tell me. And I don’t have many visitors these days. I have early Alzheimer’s disease. They did tell you that, didn’t they?”

  Madison nodded. “I’m not really sure what it is though.”

  “Sometimes I forget things,” she explained. “Once I forgot my own name and I wandered off down the street. Don’t ask how I got off the property! I don’t even know. But that only happened once so far. I’m afraid it will happen more often as I get older.”

  “That sounds really sad,” Madison said.

  “Oh listen to me, complaining!” Mrs. Romano said. “You’ve done nothing but keep me company, and I tell you depressing stories. Shame on me! I’m fine now. Let’s talk about happy things. Tell me more about your friends.”

  Madison laughed. “I’m so lucky I got paired with you. You are so smart. Can I ask you something?”

  Mrs. Romano nodded. “Of course. You can ask me anything you want. This adopt-a-grandmother thing goes both ways. You give to me and I give back.”

  Madison began to babble even more—about her parents this time.

  “So mom and dad got divorced and this Christmas they’re acting so angry about everything. They both want me to spend the holidays with them as usual, but of course I can’t be in two places at once. What am I supposed to do if they’re fighting a lot? I know you don’t know them or anything, but they always seem to put me right in the middle of their problems and you seem to know so much—”

  Mrs. Romano held up her hand. “Hold it right there,” she said. “About your parents: here’s what I think. Sometimes when people love you so much they get all worked up about it. They both want you to be with them. That’s understandable.”

&nb
sp; “So what am I supposed to do?” Madison asked.

  “Tell them how you feel. Be yourself,” Mrs. Romano said.

  “That’s it?” Madison asked.

  “Being in the middle is great if you’re in a hug,” Mrs. Romano said. “Otherwise it’s for the birds.”

  They both laughed and looked over at the wall with all the bird pictures.

  Later that night back at home, Madison hooked up her laptop in the kitchen. That way, she could type and keep Mom company while Mom made dinner.

  Of course, Madison ended up writing in her files way more than chopping vegetables.

  The Estates

  On the bus home from The Estates today, Ivy was acting all shmoozy again. I just don’t get it. She’s like a totally different person all of a sudden. Of course, she’s still the same old evil Poison Ivy at school.

  Mrs. Romano is way cool. She told me that if Ivy is behaving like two different people then she’s probably just insecure. Could that be true? Ivy? Mrs. Romano also has an answer for everything. She even loaned me this very cool matched hat and scarf set that she knit a long time ago. It has an orange pom-pom on top—can you believe that? My favorite color in the world!

  I am so glad that I volunteered at The Estates. It is nice to know that not everyone is acting bizarre around the holidays. Mrs. Romano may be the one who is supposedly sick but she’s making more sense to me these days than Mom or Dad or my BFFs.

  “Maddie,” Mom asked. “Would you keep an eye on this boiling pot while I go make a quick phone call?”

  Madison nodded and opened up her e-mailbox. She’d watch the pot out of the corner of her eye, but she had something more important to do first. She had someone she needed to say something to—right at that exact moment.

  It couldn’t wait.

  From: MadFinn

  To: GoGramma

  Subject: Guess what?

  Date: Mon 10 Dec 5:53 PM

  I love you. Thanks for being such a nice grandmother. I was thinking about you today a lot. I don’t tell you that enough.

  Xoxxo

  Maddie

  After she hit SEND, she searched for Bigwheels online, but her keypal was nowhere to be found. But surprisingly, Madison did find Aimee and Fiona. They were in an online chat room together. Madison considered jumping into their chat, or even just observing them …

  “Maddie!” Mom screeched from behind the kitchen table.

  Madison turned to see Mom frantically wiping off the stove and floor. The pot had boiled over.

  “Didn’t I ask you to watch this for me?” Mom asked. “Thank goodness I was only boiling potatoes.”

  “Whoops,” Madison said. “Sorry, Mom.”

  Mom sighed and turned down the burner, bringing her pot to a slower simmer. “Next time, please pay better attention?” Mom pleaded. “That computer can be such a distraction sometimes.”

  Madison waited for Mom to exit the kitchen once more before pulling up the website again. She checked TweenBlurt.com for the chat room with Aimee and Fiona, but it was empty. Neither BFF was online anymore.

  Dejected, Madison logged off and shut down the laptop.

  Why hadn’t her friends messaged her? Didn’t they check to see if Madison was online at the same time? Why were they acting exclusive online with each other and without her?

  Maybe it was better NOT to know.

  Chapter 7

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, MADISON started getting more worried about her BFFs again. In between classes, Madison saw Aimee and Fiona in the midst of a private conversation. But when she walked up to join them, the talking stopped.

  Stopped.

  It wasn’t the sort of holiday spirit Madison expected from her closest girlfriends—or anyone else.

  During lunch period, Madison spotted Aimee again down in the cafeteria, but without Fiona this time.

  “Aimee?” Madison asked as she got on line for macaroni and cheese.

  “Hi, Maddie! Hey, did you try their homemade granola? It’s actually good,” Aimee said, sliding a banana and yogurt onto her lunch tray.

  “Aimee, can I ask you something?” Madison said.

  Aimee turned around. “Is something wrong?”

  “You tell me,” Madison said.

  “Huh?” Aimee asked.

  “Is something wrong?” Madison asked.

  “Wrong?” Aimee repeated. She smiled knowingly. “Oh, I get it. You’re still freaked about the other day at the ice rink. You know that when Fiona and I got that ride home from the hockey game you totally could have come along. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” Madison said. “But there’s other stuff going on. I feel like I’m … well, in the way when I’m around you and Fiona.”

  “In the way?” Aimee tugged at her braid. “Maddie, what are you talking about?”

  From the way Aimee twisted and pulled at her hair, Madison knew she was making her BFF uncomfortable.

  “I can’t believe you would think that,” Aimee said.

  “So I’m not in the way?” Madison said, looking for further reassurance.

  “Of course not. Hey, I’m starved,” Aimee said. “Can we talk about this at the table?”

  Madison shrugged as Gilda Z the lunch lady scooped a ladle of macaroni and cheese onto her plate. Hopefully, it tastes better than it looks, Madison thought, because it looks like radioactive yellow glop.

  After Aimee and Madison got their drinks, they headed toward their usual orange table at the back of the room.

  “I’ll catch up with you, Aim,” Madison called out. “I just have to ask Ivy something.”

  Aimee made a face and kept walking. Madison approached the yellow lunch table at the center of the cafeteria. This was Ivy and the drones’ regular dining spot.

  “Hey, Ivy,” Madison said, shifting from foot to foot. “Did you write up that essay about The Estates?”

  Señora Diaz had asked all the volunteers to write up a profile of their recent visit, including details about the resident’s family, likes, and dislikes.

  Ivy looked up but didn’t say anything right away.

  “I was thinking maybe we could write ours together,” Madison suggested.

  Rose Thorn grunted. “I’m sorry, Madison. Did you say what I think you said?”

  “Yeah,” Joanie repeated. “Did you just ask—?”

  “I was talking to Ivy,” Madison snapped, rolling her eyes.

  “Well she’s not talking to you, I guess,” Joanie said, laughing to herself.

  “No, I haven’t written mine yet,” Ivy said at last, giving Rose and Joan a hard look. “But I don’t really think we should work on ours together.”

  “Of course you shouldn’t,” Joanie blurted.

  “Fine,” Madison said, feeling like she’d been chopped off at the knees.

  “Um … is there something else we can help you with?” Rose asked.

  “I guess not,” Madison said, staring at Ivy.

  “Why did you volunteer for The Estates anyhow?” Joanie asked. “A bunch of old people? What a party!”

  Rose chuckled. “The real reason you’re doing it, Ivy, is because Hart’s doing it, too. Right?”

  Ivy kicked Rose under the table. “Why don’t you just zip it?” she said in a commanding tone.

  “He’s such a hottie, though,” Joanie said. “I don’t blame you.”

  Madison wanted to hit Joan the drone on the side of the head with the lunch tray and run far, far away. Not only because Joan was being obnoxious, but also because she’d called attention to the truth about Hart—a truth Madison hated to acknowledge.

  Ivy was after Hart, too. No matter how nice Ivy could be in the outside world, in the lunchroom she was still enemy number one—even when it came to boys. Madison had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

  So instead of pulling a hit-and-run, Madison stood her ground. “Well, thanks anyway,” she said. “See you later, Ivy?”

  “See you later, Ivy?” Rose teased, mocking Ma
dison’s tone.

  Madison shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned to walk away, but nearly tripped over her own shoelaces.

  “Whoops. Don’t fall now,” Joanie said, cracking up.

  Luckily, Madison kept her balance. She bent down to retie her shoe, placing her tray on the floor.

  “How embarrassing,” Joanie whispered loudly.

  Madison could hear every word. She stood up. “Embarrassing?” she said with a snarl.

  “I know Ivy volunteers,” Joanie said, ignoring Madison. “But you’re the class president. You have to do those things. What’s Madison’s excuse?”

  “Yeah, and you’d rather hang out with us after school anyway, right, Ivy?” Rose said.

  “Who really wants to visit a bunch of old people?” Joanie quipped.

  Madison raised her tray up, ready to hurl macaroni and cheese into their faces. But she didn’t. She walked away at last—anger swelling inside her chest like a balloon that wanted to POP.

  How could Ivy just sit there and let them say those things? Madison fumed. What happened to Mrs. Holly Wood and the fun times Ivy had during their visits? Now Ivy was letting the drones make jokes about the nursing home? Ivy was the queen of their little clique. Why didn’t she butt in and tell Rose and Joanie to just SHUT UP?

  By the time Madison reached the orange table at the back of the room, she was all worked up. Egg was holding court telling some pathetic joke about a dead skunk.

  “Eeeeuw! That really smells!” Drew joked back after Egg revealed the not-so-funny punch line.

  Fiona, who had finally arrived, was seated near the boys, just across the lunch table from Aimee. As soon as Madison approached, she saw Fiona whisper to Aimee and slip a notebook into her book bag.

  More secrets?

  Madison was too angry about Ivy to care. She walked up to the table and gasped. “I can’t believe what just happened,” Madison said.

  “Did you tell off the drones?” Aimee asked, grinning. “That Rose is such a cow. I know you let her have it. Dish!”

  “I didn’t really let anyone have it,” Madison said with a sigh. “Not exactly.”

  “Wait! Tell us what happened,” Fiona said.