Keep It Real

by Laura Dower

  “I think Ivy’s got a problem,” Madison started to say.

  “No kidding!” Aimee yelled.

  Fiona laughed harder.

  “No, you two, I’m serious. I think maybe she has a real problem,” Madison said.

  Aimee and Fiona stopped laughing.

  “You’re serious,” Fiona said.

  “Like, what problem?” Aimee said. “What do you know that you aren’t telling us?”

  “I just…” Madison remembered her promise to keep Mrs. Daly’s condition a secret. “I don’t know anything for sure. But I just think that maybe Ivy is really sad. Maybe she’s not being a drama queen for once.”

  “I guess you could be right,” Fiona said hesitantly.

  “Come on!” Aimee cried. “Please! I can’t stay for this pity party.”

  Madison cracked a little smile. “I didn’t mean to be so serious…”

  “Then don’t be!” Aimee said.

  “Hey, I know her!” Fiona said, pointing across the street. She raised her arm and waved. “Hello, Mrs. Reynolds! How’s Pete?” she called out.

  The woman smiled and waved back.

  “Who is that?” Aimee asked as the woman walked away.

  “Oh, she’s just this lady. My mom tutors her kid, Pete. He’s three, and he has autism,” Fiona explained.

  Madison stopped short. “Did you say ‘autism’?”

  “Sometimes he can’t stand being touched. And he flaps his arms like a bird,” Fiona explained. “But Mrs. Reynolds is the most incredible mother.”

  “What is autism?” Aimee asked.

  Madison started to answer but she bit her tongue. The truth was that after reading Bigwheels’s blog, she’d already researched the complete definition of autism and all of its symptoms online. But she didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all, so she let Fiona do the talking.

  Fiona thought for a moment. “Autism has something to do with your brain. Sometimes kids don’t talk right away, that kind of thing. At least that’s what my mom tells me,” she said. “Of course, I know it’s more complicated than that.”

  “Gee, I’m impressed,” Aimee said.

  “Well, I only know a little,” Fiona said.

  “It’s so weird that you saw Mrs. Reynolds like that, because I was just wondering about autism,” Madison said.

  “Huh? You were?” Aimee said. “Maddie, why were you wondering about that?”

  Madison gulped.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Aim, I saw a TV show on autism once…and I—I’ve just always wondered about it. That’s all.”

  “That’s so random, Maddie,” Aimee said.

  “You should ask my mother if you want to know more,” Fiona suggested. “I’m sure she could answer any questions you have.”

  “Er…thanks,” Madison mumbled, wanting to change the subject. For some reason she didn’t feel like telling Aimee or Fiona about Bigwheels and Eddie. But it did get her thinking. If Fiona knew someone who had it, maybe autism wasn’t so strange or scary.

  “Did you do the latest journaling assignment?” Aimee asked her friends.

  “I’m still working on the last two,” Madison admitted with a groan.

  “I like the latest question that Mrs. Quill gave us,” Fiona said. She repeated it: “Pretend to look at the world from someone else’s point of view.”

  “I pretended to be a prima ballerina,” Aimee said with a twirl.

  “Oh, that’s a great one. Maybe I’ll write as Mia Hamm or Abby Wambach, soccer champions,” Fiona said.

  “What about you, Maddie? Did Mr. Gibbons give you the same question?” Aimee asked.

  “Yeah, he did. But I don’t know what to write,” Madison said.

  They reached the bend in the road, where Fiona turned off Blueberry Street to get to her house. At the last minute, Aimee decided to veer off with her. She’d left something over at the Waterses’ house the last time she had visited.

  “E us later!” Fiona and Aimee called out to Madison at the exact same time.

  “E me, too!” Madison giggled, waving them on.

  When she arrived home, Madison walked heavily up her porch steps, thinking hard. The door was unlocked, but Mom was nowhere to be found.

  “Hello?” Madison called out. She could hear radio static coming from the kitchen. “Is anyone here?”

  Madison noticed that the dog’s leash wasn’t hanging on its hook, which was a huge relief. That meant Mom and Phin were probably taking a walk around the block—or maybe even all the way to the park. Mom liked to escape with the dog sometimes when she’d been at her computer all day. At the dog run in the park, Phin could hang out with the other dogs, and Mom could hang out with the other moms (and dads and grandmothers and kids). It was a nice break for them both.

  With the house all to herself, Madison threw down her jacket, kicked off her sneakers, and curled up in one corner of the downstairs sofa.

  After the walk home from school, Madison finally felt a kernel of inspiration ready to pop.

  She booted up her computer, opened her e-mail box, and hit NEW.

  From: MadFinn

  To: Bigwheels

  Subject: Re: JSS

  Date: Tues 19 Oct 3:33 PM

  OK so I owe u an apology. I’m JSS2!!!

  I know I asked u all those important questions about ur blog and then you answered me with all the details BUT then how lame am I b/c I didn’t write back??? I have no reason or excuse, I just didn’t. But I was thinking about all the things u said. I was thinking a lot. 4 1 thing, ur amazing, Vicki. Not only do u always give me good advice, but I feel like u think about things that really matter and u know how 2 talk about them.

  When u finally told me about Eddie I was blown away. Well, if I’m being really honest--at first I was REALLY mad b/c u didn’t tell me sooner. (I wish u could have trusted me.) But then I stopped feeling upset b/c I thought about the whole situation from your point of view. I can’t imagine what it’s like not being able to hug him. It must be sad. I don’t have a brother but I would lose my mind if I couldn’t hug Phinnie.

  Pleez know that I’m here if u need 2 talk about it n e other time. OK?

  Yours till the friend ships,

  Maddie

  p.s.: Are there n e other secrets u feel like sharing?

  Chapter 13

  MOM WAS IN THE mood to buy shoes. She’d been in the mood to shop ever since her executive producer promotion had come through. And so, after school on Wednesday, she and Madison headed over to the Far Hills Shoppes together.

  Madison and Mom raced around the shops on the mezzanine level and then boarded the escalator to the first floor. Although Madison had been feeling tired during the last class at school, she felt energized by being at the mall. Was it the steady flow of people moving in and out of stores? Or maybe the music piped in through the loudspeakers? Or was it a combination of flashing neon lights and the loud brrrring of cash registers?

  It was all of those things and the sales—with all those exclamation points!

  Hurry! 20% Off Entire Inventory!

  Buy two pairs—get one free!

  Don’t miss it! Huge closeout sale! One day only!

  After shopping for only an hour, Madison and Mom had purchased not one, but three pairs of shoes (including one free pair), a pair of dangling, purple-beaded earrings (Mom had convinced Madison to try them on), and a silk scarf that Mom was sure would look just right at her first official board meeting as a Budge Films executive producer.

  “This is actually fun,” Madison said to Mom as they headed into yet another shoe store. “But do we really need anything else, Mom? You’re a little out of control.” Her mom just smiled and nodded.

  Madison liked being at the mall, but she wasn’t always into buying stuff. Aimee never understood that. How could a person like to shop—and not actually shop? But Madison always said that it was because shopping was a group activity. She liked to shop because it meant hanging out with whomever she was with: Ai
mee, Fiona, or, as today, Mom.

  “Wow. I haven’t let myself do this in a long time,” Mom said aloud. She giggled. “I love it. I love being here with you.”

  “I’m sorry again about yesterday,” Madison said.

  Mom squeezed Madison’s arm. “Me, too. But we covered that ground already. Let’s just shop! Woo-hoo!”

  Madison laughed at the image of her mom as Super Shopper. What was that manic look in Mom’s eyes? Craziness? Or was it just happiness? Usually Mom seemed so consumed by work that she hardly ever stopped to have a good time. This week, however, Madison had seen another side to Mom.

  She liked it.

  “Francine?” a woman’s voice said near the lingerie store, where they’d stopped to look in the window.

  “Huh?” Mom turned to face the person who’d called her name. “Paige?”

  Madison turned, too. Standing there in the middle of the mall were Mrs. Daly and her daughter, Poison Ivy.

  “Paige! What are you doing here?” Mom asked Mrs. Daly.

  “Oh, I thought it would be nice to come out and shop a bit,” Mrs. Daly replied. “I’ve been a little cooped up lately, as you know. My doctor says I need the air.” She reached for Ivy’s arm. “And I get to spend some time with Ivy, too,” Mrs. Daly said with a smile.

  Ivy smiled, too. Madison tried to decide whether it was one of her typical, forced smiles or not.

  “Hello, Ivy,” Madison said.

  “Hey,” Ivy said.

  Something about Ivy’s face looked sad—very different from the raspberry-lip-gloss look she had at school.

  “I just lo-o-o-ve that sweater!” Mrs. Daly gushed, reaching over to tug Madison’s sleeve. “That color looks great on you, Maddie. And you look great, too! We don’t see enough of you these days.”

  Mom put her hands on Madison shoulders. “Yes, Paige. She’s all grown up. So is Ivy! How’s that for fast? Where did the years go?”

  The two mothers laughed.

  Madison and Ivy did not laugh.

  Madison squirmed. If she had had to write the script of the best mall trip ever, transformed into the worst mall trip ever, it would star one person and one person only: Ivy Renee Daly.

  Of course, after only a few minutes Mom and Mrs. Daly started chatting more intently. They were practically standing on each other’s toes.

  Meanwhile, Madison and Ivy were left standing by themselves, and they weren’t talking.

  “So, you were shopping?” Madison finally asked. Someone needed to break the ice.

  Ivy flipped her red hair. “Yes, we were shopping. Were you?”

  “Yes,” Madison said. “Did you buy anything?”

  “Yes,” Ivy said. “Did you?”

  “Yes,” Madison answered.

  As accompaniment to their dull conversation, mall music played in the background. A too-loud instrumental version of “Monster Mash” blared out of speakers directly over their heads. Madison guessed it was in honor of the Halloween season.

  “Nice song, right?” Madison joked.

  “Yeah, right,” Ivy said sarcastically.

  “So…” Madison said.

  “So…” Ivy said.

  “Did you do the journaling assignment yet?” Madison had to ask something real, and that seemed as good a question as any.

  Ivy shrugged. “I haven’t written much since last week.”

  Madison frowned. That was an awfully honest answer from the enemy. It took her by surprise. She wanted to say, “Gee, Ivy, what happened to your perfectly perfect life, huh? Huh? Huh?”

  But she didn’t.

  They stood there quietly for a moment. The moms were still having a major powwow. Madison’s mom actually put her arm around Mrs. Daly at one point.

  Ivy finally spoke up.

  “Well,” Ivy said. “I guess you know.”

  “Know?” Madison said. “What?”

  “Oh, come on,” Ivy said. “You know.”

  Madison looked down at the floor. “Okay. I know.”

  “Huge bummer, right?” Ivy said.

  Madison wasn’t totally sure they were talking about the same thing.

  “Bummer? You mean your mom being sick?”

  Ivy looked away. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It’s a bummer. Nothing is the same anymore.”

  Madison thought that there were probably a million words to describe someone’s mom being sick, but “bummer” wasn’t one of the first ones she would have picked. But how could she fault Ivy for her choice of words? Ivy’s mother was sick—really sick. There was a teeny part of Madison that wanted to put her arm around Ivy, just as her mom had put her arm around Ivy’s mom.

  “So I guess that’s why I haven’t been able to write a lot in that dumb journal,” Ivy continued.

  “Yeah,” Madison said, trying to sound sympathetic. “I guess.”

  “Look, please don’t say anything.”

  “About what?” Madison asked.

  “About my mother,” Ivy said. “I really don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want them to know she lost all her hair, and I don’t want everyone treating me like I’m a leper because I have a sick mother.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just don’t tell,” Ivy said. “Or else. I mean it.”

  Madison’s eyes opened wide. “Fine. I won’t say a word.”

  “You’d better not,” Ivy said sharply. “If I find out that you do…”

  All of a sudden, the two mothers burst into laughter. Mrs. Daly’s eyes were tearing, and she seemed out of breath.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” Ivy asked. Her expression shifted from menacing scowl to a look of genuine concern and love.

  Mrs. Daly shook her head. “Oh…Ivy…I’m fine…just something…funny Mrs. Finn said…”

  Ivy pursed her lips. “Oh. Okay.”

  Madison stared at Ivy’s face. In an instant the enemy’s whole demeanor changed. In an instant she stopped being the person who had been giving Madison such a hard time a few moments before—and in school all week. In fact, right now Ivy looked afraid. Or was it sad? Ivy’s eyes appeared misty, too, although she would never have admitted that she was close to tears. Not in the mall—and certainly not in the presence of her number one enemy, Madison.

  “We’d better be going,” Mom said.

  Mrs. Daly leaned over and kissed Mom’s cheek. “Congratulations again, Frannie. I am so glad we keep bumping into each other.”

  “Let’s really do that lunch date,” Mom said.

  Mrs. Daly nodded. “Definitely.”

  “Okay, girls,” Mom said, giving Madison a little nudge and smiling at Ivy. “There’s more shopping to be done!”

  Ivy and Madison exchanged another glance, and their eyes locked, just for a moment. Were they sharing something? Another secret? Somewhere, deep down, despite all the bluster and the anger and the rude remarks, did they understand each other better than anyone could ever know?

  “See you in school,” Madison said.

  “Yeah,” Ivy said.

  “Good luck on your journaling assignment,” Madison said.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” Ivy said.

  Madison gave Ivy a tiny smile. “Perfect,” she said.

  Mrs. Daly gave Madison a peck on the cheek. “You are such a beautiful girl!” she said, throwing her arms around Madison for a hug.

  Madison didn’t understand why Ivy’s mom was being so affectionate. But she let her be that way. It seemed to make her happy. Madison hugged her back.

  “Okay, okay,” Mom said. “Let’s stop our long good-bye. I’ll call you, Paige. Good-bye, Ivy.”

  “Good-bye, Mrs. Finn,” Ivy said.

  “So long!” Mrs. Daly said.

  As they walked away, Mom turned to Madison. “Ivy’s mother looks pretty good, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, she does,” Madison said. “At least, I think so.”

  “Well, she just got some bad news,” Mom said. “She needs to go in for even more t
reatment. They’re waiting until the new year, though. It’s just a lot to handle. Apparently Ivy’s older sister, Janet, may take some time off from school. Oh, Maddie, I am so glad we’re all healthy. We are very lucky.”

  “I know,” Madison said.

  “What did you girls talk about? I know you and Ivy don’t exactly get along…” Mom said.

  “We talked about school and science class. She told me about her mom—a little bit. Not much.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see that you two can be civil in a public place,” Mom joked.

  “Yeah,” Madison said, distracted. She glanced across the mall in time to see Ivy and her mother reach the escalator. She watched as they stepped on and disappeared to the floor below.

  Just before they vanished from view, Ivy turned.

  Madison didn’t know if she was looking back at her or just looking around. But in any case, Madison was certain of one thing.

  If she wanted to keep it real, Madison needed to give Ivy the benefit of the doubt, no matter what. There were so many things Madison didn’t know or understand.

  Mom and Dad had been right.

  Some secrets were not meant to be shared. And then there were the other secrets—the ones that could be shared—and kept.

  Madison would keep this one under lock and key.

  Chapter 14

  MADISON SPENT HER FREE period on Thursday in the media lab of the library. She needed to catch up on her journaling exercises from Mr. Gibbons’s class.

  She’d finally chosen someone for the question on point of view.

  My mother is sick and my heart is sadder than sad because

  Madison stopped, read over what she’d read, and then erased the entry. For one thing, it sounded too much like her and not like the person she was writing as. Luckily she’d been writing in pencil.

  She started over.

  My classmates think I’m mean. I always talk about other people, and I don’t always say very nice things. They think that I think I’m the center of the universe. And most of the time, that’s okay. I’m popular, I’m pretty, and I get good grades (except lately in science because Madison won’t help me!).