by Betsy Haynes
Gran Pennington let Melanie keep the clipping. And even though she read it over dozens of times over the rest of the weekend and smiled at the thoughts of all the things she had in common with her great-great-grandmother, she couldn't forget the problem that still nagged at her. She felt as unwanted as the two mutts, Rainbow and Cordia's little dog, had been.
When she got to school Monday morning, Melanie didn't feel like joining her friends at their usual spot by the fence, so she ambled over to a cluster of birch trees and stood by herself. She knew her rotten mood was back, and she didn't want to inflict it on The Fabulous Five.
"What's the matter, Mel?" Funny Hawthorne had walked up behind her and was looking at her with concern. "I can tell something is bothering you. It has been for days. I even noticed it when you spent the night with me Friday. Would you like to talk about it?"
Melanie felt tears jet into her eves. "No," she whispered, looking away. "Thanks, though."
Funny didn't say anything for a moment as she drew circles into the dirt with the toe of her shoe. Finally she looked at Melanie and said, "I know how you feel. I didn't want to talk about my genealogy project last week either."
Melanie looked at her sharply. What does that have to do with anything? she wanted to ask.
"But you wouldn't leave me alone." A smile broke over Funny's face, and she went on, "You bugged me until I told you what the problem was. Remember?"
Melanie felt her face color as she nodded. Still, this was different. How could she talk about her own problem without letting Funny know that she was part of it?
"Soooo," Funny said, ignoring Melanie's silence, "I'm going to be just as good a friend to you as you were to me. I'm going to bug you. Come on, Melanie. You'll feel better when you talk about it, and maybe I can help."
Melanie looked at Funny as a tiny feeling of hope rose in her. She really did need a friend. Maybe she could talk to Funny about part of her problem without telling her the whole story. "Remember how you thought you were a nobody in the Hawthorne family until you found out that you were chosen?"
"Sure," said Funny. "So what?"
Melanie took a deep breath and let it out in one big puff. "Well, it's just the opposite for me. I thought my parents really loved me until I read a letter my mom wrote to my grandmother saying that she and my dad never wanted me to be born."
Funny's eyes widened in disbelief as Melanie went on with her story, being careful to leave out the parts about her jealousy over Funny's being a chosen child. "You'd be in a bad mood, too, if you found out that you wrecked your mother's career and you were nothing but a burden to your family," Melanie blurted.
Funny looked down at the ground for a moment as if she were examining the circles in the dirt she had made with her toe a few moments before. Then she reached out a hand and touched Melanie softly on the arm. "I know all that seems awful right now, but I think you're wrong about not feeling wanted. Sure, your mom and dad yell at you sometimes, but everybody's mom and dad does that. Even mine," she said brightly. "They were just on good behavior because I had company when you were there."
"But I saw the proof," Melanie insisted, "right there in black and white in the letter. My mom said I was an accident!"
A determined look appeared on Funny's face. "Okay. Have it your way. Your parents hate you because you wrecked their life. But promise me you'll do exactly the same thing you made me do."
Melanie blinked, trying to remember their conversation a few days ago. "What was that?"
"Talk to your parents."
"What!" shrieked Melanie. "Are you kidding? I could never do a thing like that."
Funny smiled slyly. "That's what I said. Remember? And you convinced me that it was the only way to settle my problem and feel better about myself. If I could do it, you can."
"I don't know," said Melanie, shaking her head.
"You've got to promise," insisted Funny. "I'll throw my body across the door so that you can't get into school until you promise. I'll carry a sign that says 'Melanie Edwards is a chicken.' I'll drag you home and talk to your parents myself, if I have to."
Funny was saying all that in a teasing voice, but there was something about the look in her eyes that told Melanie she wasn't really kidding.
Melanie hesitated. Just because it had been the right thing for Funny didn't mean it would work for her. Still, something deep inside her was crying to be reassured that her parents loved her. "Okay," she murmured. "I guess I could try."
But Funny wouldn't let her off the hook yet. "Raise your right hand and swear," she ordered. "Swear you'll do it tonight."
Melanie couldn't help smiling at her determined friend as she raised her hand and swore to talk to her parents as soon as she got home from school. She was beginning to feel a little bit better already.
But when the bell sounded and she headed for her locker, her old doubts returned. Was it really the right thing to do or would it only make things worse?
CHAPTER 14
Melanie's heart was throbbing in her ears when she went down to dinner that night. She had changed her mind about talking to her parents at least a hundred times during the day. One moment she would be determined to find out the truth from them, even if it meant hearing proof that they didn't love her. The next moment she would chicken out, deciding that she couldn't really face it. Finally she made up her mind to do it, but she planned to wait until dinner so that she could speak to both of them at once. She knew Jeffy would be there, too, and would overhear everything, but it was just a chance she would have to take.
Melanie waited until the food had been passed around the table to bring up what was on her mind.
"Mom. Dad," she began. "Remember when I told you about going to Gran Pennington's and reading a stack of love letters written to Great-great-grandmother Cordia?"
Her father chuckled. "See, what did I tell you? She was a real corker, wasn't she? Had young men falling all over themselves for her attention."
Melanie nodded. "Well, that's not the only letter I read. I read the one you wrote to Gran to tell her you were going to have me."
She waited a moment to see if either of them would react with horror at the possibility that their secret was out, but nothing like that happened. Instead, her mother smiled happily and said, "Boy, that was a long time ago."
Suddenly all the anxiety Melanie had felt before engulfed her and she choked back tears to blurt out, "It said that . . . that I wrecked your chances for a career, Mom, and that I was just an accident!"
All action at the table stopped, except for Jeffy, who was picking pieces of rice off his plate with his fingers, and both her mother and her father stared at her in astonishment.
"What are you talking about?" whispered her mother.
"That you didn't want me then and you don't now. That's the truth, isn't it?"
Mr. and Mrs. Edwards exchanged glances. "Tell us what the letter said," her father asked gently.
Melanie closed her eyes. She could see the words as clearly as if they were written on the insides of her eyelids. "It said, 'Larry and I had planned to wait awhile to have a baby,'" she recited. "'You know how I've worked for years to become a concert pianist and have given up a lot to achieve my dream. But accidents happen, I guess, and now I'll have to forget that dream . . .'" Her words trailed off, and she felt as if she were collapsing from the weight of her heart.
"Go on," her mother urged.
Melanie looked at her blankly.
"That's not all it said," Mrs. Edwards prompted. "I remember that letter as if I wrote it yesterday."
"But I didn't read any more," Melanie admitted bitterly. "I didn't need to. I already knew the truth."
"Oh, sweetheart!" cried her mother. She got up from her place at the table and rushed to Melanie, gathering her in her arms. "There's so much more. Come on. Get your coat. We'd better go to Gran Pennington's right now so that you can read the rest."
To Melanie's astonishment her parents got up from the table even though their meal was
barely touched. They dressed Jeffy in his snowsuit, handed him a cookie, and then got their own coats. Melanie followed them like a sleepwalker. Nothing seemed real, and even though her mother had said that there was more to the letter, she couldn't forget the words she had already seen.
Gran Pennington was surprised to see them when she opened the door, but Melanie's mother said something to her in low tones, and Gran nodded and led them upstairs to the room where the trunk stood. Melanie stared at the trunk and the old feelings of indecision came back. She wanted to see the letter, especially if she had missed something important. But at the same time, she was afraid.
"Would you like for me to get the letter out for you?" Gran Pennington asked gently.
Melanie shook her head. "That's okay," she said. "I'll get it."
She knelt beside the trunk and slowly lifted the lid. The same musty smell floated toward her as before, and the stack of letters tied neatly with a pink ribbon were exactly where she had left them. Taking a deep breath, she carefully extracted the letter from under them and held it up.
"Go ahead," her mother urged. "Read all of it."
Slowly Melanie pulled the sheets of paper out of the envelope. She swallowed hard and began to read.
Dear Mom,
I know you've been wondering why I haven't written in such a long time and that you always say that no news is good news, but the truth is, I haven't been sure if the news I'm going to tell you is good news or not.
Larry and I had planned to wait awhile to have a baby. You know how I've worked for years to become a concert pianist and have given up a lot to achieve my dream. But accidents happen, I guess, and now I'll have to forget that dream.
The first page ended there, and Melanie took a deep breath and began reading page two.
And yet, Larry and I have begun looking at it another way. Even though the old dreams may be lost, at least for now, we have a new and more wonderful dream to take its place. A baby to care for and to love. Who knows how long it might have been before we would have known this happiness if things had gone the way we'd planned. So I guess I have to say that this accident was really a blessing in disguise.
Love,
Kathy
Slowly Melanie raised her eyes and looked first at her mother and then her father. "A blessing?" she whispered around the lump in her throat.
"That's right," said her mother. "We've always loved you and we always will."
Dropping the letter, Melanie rushed to them for the best hug of her life.
In bed that night, Melanie waited until the house was quiet. Then she got up and tiptoed to her desk, getting Great-great-grandmother Cordia's photograph album off her desk and bringing it back to bed. She got the flashlight out of the drawer in her bedside table and pulled the covers over her head the way she used to do when she was small. She wasn't hiding from her parents this time. She just felt more private this way.
For the next few minutes she looked at the pictures of her great-great-grandmother, tingling with pleasure when she thought about all they had in common. She was glad that the Family Living classes had started the genealogy project because she had learned some valuable things. She knew now that even though Funny was adopted, her cheerful personality came from the Hawthorne family, and that she had gotten her sunny smile from Mrs. Hawthorne even though they weren't related by blood.
I've learned that my parents really do love me, she thought, no matter how grouchy they get sometimes or how much Mom yells at me. My friends in The Fabulous Five were right when they thought I was jumping to conclusions.
She smiled down at Cordia's face in the picture, feeling for the hundredth time that she was looking into a mirror. And I've learned that some things can be passed down through the generations. Snapping off the flashlight, she lay back on her pillow and began to make plans. First, she would look at every single thing in the trunk to find out as much as she could about Cordia. Surely there would be something in there telling whom she married. Maybe then I'll know whom I'll marry someday, too.
But for now, there were other things to do. Romantic things that she had never thought of before. The next time Scott came over, she would invite him into the backyard and ask him to push her on Jeffy's swing. Then, when it snowed again, she'd coax Shane into making a snowman with her.
"Oooooh," she whispered as she drifted off to sleep, "I guess I just can't help being a flirt."
CHAPTER 15
Curtis Trowbridge walked into Christie Winchell's homeroom class with his usual air of importance. Besides being class president, he was also seventh-grade editor for the school newspaper, The Smoke Signal. He obviously felt it was an honor to deliver personally the latest edition to the homerooms.
"Thank you, Curtis," said Mr. Neal. "Heather, would you and Bill Soliday pass out The Smoke Signal, please?"
Christie looked at her watch. There were still ten minutes before the bell, and she had all her homework done, so she could spend the rest of the period reading the paper. It was fun to search through it to see if any of The Fabulous Five's names or the names of the boys they hung out with were in it. She scanned the pages, finding several boys she knew in articles on the sports pages and Beth Barry's name in a story about the drama club.
As she turned the newspaper back over to the front page, an article there caught her eye.
Homework Hot-Line to Be Established
It was announced today by Mr. Bell that Wakeman Junior High is going to establish a Hot-Line Center so that students may call in at night and get help with their homework. The center will have special telephone numbers and operate from seven to nine each evening, Monday through Thursday. Several students from the seventh, eighth, and ninth grades who have nothing lower than a B in any class will be asked to man the center.
I'll probably get asked, thought Christie. After all, I made all A's in my first semester at Wacko. It sounds like fun, and who knows, while I'm helping other kids I might even meet a cute boy.
But Christie encounters more than she expects when she joins the Hot-Line Center and tries to track down a mysterious caller before he does something terrible. Join Christie as she uses all her brains and courage in her search for clues to the caller's identity in The Fabulous Five #16: The Hot-Line Emergency.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Betsy Haynes, the daughter of a former newswoman, began scribbling poetry and short stories as soon as she learned to write. A serious writing career, however, had to wait until after her marriage and the arrival of her two children. But that early practice must have paid off, for within three months Mrs. Haynes had sold her first story. In addition to a number of magazine short stories and the Taffy Sinclair series, Mrs. Haynes is also the author of The Great Mom Swap and its sequel, The Great Boyfriend Trap. She lives in Colleyville, Texas, with her husband, who is also an author.
