by Laura Dower
“Finnster!” someone whispered in Madison’s ear. Of course, she knew right away who it was.
Hart.
“Hey,” Madison said softly as she turned around to see his face. They walked single file into a row of seats where Fiona and the other girls had dumped their stuff. “I was wondering if you’d show up. And I didn’t even think to look for your name on the list,” she told him in her sweetest voice. “You’re performing, right?”
“Nah,” Hart replied. “I’m backstage. Just like you.”
“Backstage?” Madison asked. “But I thought you wanted to sing or dance or something else in the spotlight”
“Nah,” Hart said again. “I thought we could hang together instead. After all, these are the last few weeks of school, right?”
“Right,” Madison said. “Good thinking.”
The teacher-advisers spent the entire revue meeting dividing the room into different groups by age, category, and act. Madison and Hart ended up together with a bunch of other seventh-grade performers, including Fiona, her brother Chet, Lindsay, and Drew, who had showed up late. All four of them would perform the same songs, two chipper tunes from the musical Bye Bye Birdie called “The Telephone Hour” and “A Lot of Livin’ to Do.”
Chet fidgeted in his seat. “Maybe I should have done something invisible instead of this,” he said, eyeing the end of the row.
Madison, Lindsay, and Fiona giggled. They knew he’d only signed on for this revue so he could get a little closer to Madhur. But they opted not to tease Chet publicly for his crush. That would have embarrassed Madhur even more than him.
As Mr. Montefiore played a medley of tunes, including one called “Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat,” from Guys and Dolls, Hart leaned close to Madison. He was so close that she could feel his breath on the side of her neck when he talked. Madison thought about what Bigwheels had said last night during their online chat.
Hands…
Hart…
Kisses…
“What are you thinking about?” Hart asked. His words snapped Madison out of her reverie, and she stared dumbly into his dark eyes.
“Uh…homework,” Madison stammered.
Of course, Madison couldn’t tell him the truth.
I was thinking about you, you, YOU.
“Hey, I was wondering…” Hart mumbled. “You want to go to the movies with Drew and Elaine this weekend? I think my dad is going to come with us. And maybe Dan, too.”
“You mean Dan and Lindsay, right?” Madison said, in a soft voice so Lindsay wouldn’t hear. Lindsay was sitting a few seats away.
Hart shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Are they hanging out?”
Madison leaned back, surprised. Of course they’re hanging out, you goofball! You know who the couples are! It’s the end of school, and except for Aimee, we’ve all paired off. Where have you been?
“Dan didn’t say anything?” she asked.
Hart was about to answer when Mrs. Montefiore stood up to the microphone on the auditorium stage.
“Okay, everyone! Let’s call it a wrap for today. Students, on your way out of the room, please pick up one of the revue rehearsal schedules. In addition to performers and dancers, we’ll be having practice sessions and meetings for prop people, lighting people, set designers, and others. This is the last time we’ll meet as such a large group—until, of course, the real show…”
Everyone in the room started to applaud.
“One more thing!” Mrs. Montefiore cried. “According to the latest head count, this is our biggest group ever—and we’re more excited than ever! So, thank you, one and all.”
Everyone clapped a little louder, and then the scramble began: up the aisles, through the doors, into the outside world. It was a mad scene. Pushed from side to side, Madison clung to Hart on the way out, the fingers of both her hands holding on to the back of his polo shirt. It felt nice to be attached to someone like him.
“Are you okay?” Hart asked, shooting her a quick look.
“Mmmm,” Madison grinned and pinched the folds of his shirt a little tighter as she held on.
After leaving the school building (and saying good-bye to Hart), Madison headed home with Aimee. For block after block, Aimee talked nonstop. Madison’s ears hurt. “The dance numbers are so-o-o complex and sophisticated, and I’m responsible for three—yes, three—different dances, and that’s more than any of the other assistants are responsible for, including the eighth and ninth graders. How amazing, with a capital A, is that?”
Whew.
Madison didn’t know what to say when Aimee got her rant on like that. Was it safer just to listen and nod? That was what she did.
After parting ways (finally) with Queen Chatterbox, Madison headed straight for home. Mom was in the kitchen waiting on a report of all the details of the revue meeting.
“So, tell me…” Mom asked with a sly grin.
Madison snagged a fistful of salted pretzels and chuckled. “Tell you what?”
Mom paced around the kitchen. “Are you doing a dance solo, or an operatic aria?” she asked.
“Very cute, Mom,” Madison said. “No, I asked for behind-the-scenes, props or set work or lighting. Something like that.”
“Good for you, honey bear,” Mom said, still pacing. “Sounds like a great adventure.”
“Oh, speaking of adventures, I keep forgetting to give you something,” Madison said. She produced the crumpled permission slip for the field trip to Lake Dora that had been inside her orange bag for half the week. “You need to sign this.”
“What’s this? A day trip? Lake Dora?” Mom said. She stopped pacing long enough to read it.
Rowowoworrooooo!
Phin bounded into the kitchen, howling loudly. Madison warmly cradled the pug in her arms and kissed his soft little pointy ears.
Mom started to pace again. If she kept it up, she would make a neat groove in the tiled floor.
“Um…Mom? Is everything okay?” Madison asked.
Mom nodded. “I have things on my mind.”
Then she stopped in her tracks, scribbled her name along the bottom line of the permission slip, and handed it back to Madison.
“Did I do something?” Madison asked.
“You? No-o-o-o,” Mom smiled.
“Then what? Is it your job again?” Madison asked.
“Sometimes you read me like a book,” Mom said, collapsing into a kitchen chair. “Here’s what happened. I got another call from the other film company. They made me a good offer for the new executive job.”
“That’s good news!” Madison cried. “You wanted that to happen, right?”
“Yes. But…” Mom’s voice trailed off.
Madison raised an eyebrow. “But?”
“But…then…this afternoon … the CEO of Budge Films came to me with a bonus incentive and an incredible new project. It’s a documentary I’ve wanted to do for years. Some timing, right?”
“So what is this dream documentary about?” Madison asked.
“They want me to do a Japan travelogue, a story about the island volcanoes and hot springs.”
“Whoa. That sounds interesting,” Madison said, even though she didn’t know much about Japan or any other place in Asia—except India, having done several recent Internet searches. She’d tried to learn about Punjab and all the places where Madhur’s family had lived. That was it.
“So, when are you going to make a decision on the new job offer?” Madison asked.
“I don’t know,” Mom answered solemnly. “What do you think I should do?”
“What do I think?” Madison asked in reply, laughing halfheartedly. “Why are you asking what I think?”
“Because,” Mom said, squeezing Madison’s hands a little harder, “I care what you think. And you have a sixth sense about this stuff.”
“I do not,” Madison said. “Mom, you’re being goofy.”
“Seriously, Maddie, you’re smart about these things. That’s one of
the things I love most about you. You trust your instincts.”
“I do?” Madison said incredulously. “Since when?”
“Oh, honey bear,” Mom went on, “you’ve grown so much this year. Seventh grade has been a real turning point for you. I can see it.”
“It has?” Madison asked.
Mom nodded. “It has.” Then she took a long pause. “So, what should I do?”
“Mom, I don’t know—”
“Oh, Maddie,” Mom sighed. “I know I should be gunning for the big job…and I love the work so much. But I so love being able to travel. If I took the executive role, I’d be in an office more—not traveling around the world. And even though I’d go on shorter trips, I’d probably be away from home a lot more often.”
“Away more? Wait. You never said that part to me before,” Madison said. “You told me the opposite would be true…”
“I didn’t want you to get all worked up about it, since I didn’t know all the details yet. But today I found out that I’d have to fly to Washington at least once a month—and overseas at least once a month—and—”
“That would stink,” Madison said.
Mom nodded and ran her fingertips over Madison’s cheek. “Any time I’m away from you stinks.”
“Okay, then I know exactly what you should do,” Madison said.
“Yes?” Mom said, smiling.
“You should take the trip to Japan and stay at Budge,” Madison said simply. “Because you want to travel—and because I don’t want you to be away from me and Phin any more than you already are. There. I said it.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Mom said decisively.
“Just like that?” Madison asked.
“Just like that. And you know,” Mom said, “if I do take the Japan project, I’ll need someone to come on my first scouting trip with me.”
Madison’s eyes grew wide. “You will?”
“You know who I want to fly with me?”
“Me?” Madison asked.
Mom nodded. “Who else?”
“When?”
“This summer.”
“Really?”
“Truly.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe three weeks.”
“Three weeks? Halfway across the world?” Madison squealed. She instantly thought about Madhur’s trip to Pakistan and Lindsay’s trip to England. After feeling so sorry for herself, Madison was now being asked to go on a trip, too? This was a dream.
“I have to tell Aimee!” Madison cried. “I have to tell everyone.”
“Well, remember, I haven’t accepted yet…and it’s not a sure thing yet,” Mom said, “but go ahead, call Aimee…or e-mail her…or whatever it is you’re doing these days. She’s like a member of our family anyway.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Madison said as she collected her orange bag and raced out of the kitchen. Forget the phone or laptop. Telling Aimee about this required some serious face time. Madison decided she would run down the street to the Gillespie house. She and Aimee could sit on the roof just outside Aimee’s bedroom, as they usually did in the summers and on sleepover nights.
Madison grabbed Phin’s leash and hooked it to his collar. Then she headed for the porch and for Aimee’s house.
This was way too good to be believed.
And way too good not to be shared.
Chapter 7
MADISON LAY IN BED, staring at the shiny alarm clock on her night table. Phin had knocked the digital clock radio off the table the week before and it didn’t work anymore, so she was making do with a metal windup alarm clock in the shape of a pink pig. Rather than awakening Madison with bells or chimes, this clock oinked.
Phin hated it. As soon as it went off, he dashed madly under the bed.
“You can come out now,” Madison whispered to Phin as she leaned over the side of the mattress. “It’s just Piggy. No biggie.”
Phin poked his snout out from under the bedspread and sniffed the rug cautiously.
It wasn’t Madison’s usual get-up-and-go time. She’d set the pig for an hour earlier than usual. With so much to do, Madison figured she would waste less time sleeping and get more done by getting up earlier. Plus, she was supposed to meet Aimee and Fiona to walk to school together.
Getting up early was no hardship. Madison had been having trouble sleeping these last few weeks. Mom had said it was probably just the end-of-school jitters.
“When you have a ton on your mind,” Mom had said, “it’s hard to stay still, especially under the covers.”
Madison jumped out of the bed and walked slowly over to the large, gilded mirror that hung over a dresser. It was an antique, handed down from Gramma Helen’s sister Lou. Madison had never known Lou—short for Louisa—although she’d heard stories over the years. Like many pieces and parts of her own family history, the stories came together over time, like pieces of a puzzle. Sometimes Madison had to fish for the details of her ancestry: who resembled whom, where people grew up and traveled, and so much more.
Distressed to see a giant pimple on her face, reflected in the mirror, Madison made a beeline for the hall bathroom. Phin didn’t follow; Madison figured he’d fallen back asleep again. Mom was asleep, too. Madison heard her snoring from out in the hall.
With a quick washing of her face, the use of a cotton ball soaked in toner, and a smear of beige cover-up called Zit-B-Gone, the unwelcome blemish was rendered invisible. Madison pulled her hair into a braid and fixed the edges with bobby pins. Then, she slipped into a T-shirt and faded blue chinos and added a woven belt and sneakers. The T had a silk screen of a cartoon pony on the front, and the words I’m Just Horsing Around. It was like one of Dad’s dorky jokes, but Madison loved the purple color of the fabric, and the words were half faded and practically unreadable anyway, so she wore it.
Back in her room, in front of the gilt-edged mirror, Madison searched inside her jewelry box for the right pair of earrings to go with her outfit. She located a pair of dangly gold hoops and tried them on. But they were too long. Then she put on a pair of silver-studded flowers, but they pinched her ears. Finally, Madison settled on a simple pair of purple-beaded drop earrings to match her shirt. She posed in the mirror with the earrings, readjusting her bobby pins.
Higher up on the mirror were some odds and ends that had been taped there hastily over the past weeks and months: a postcard from Dad’s and Stephanie’s honeymoon, Mom’s photo from the newspaper, a dried flower from Dad, a picture of Phin, and a photo strip of Madison and Hart that they’d taken at the Far Hills Shoppes in one of those photo booths. Madison and Hart made different funny faces in each picture: pucker-ups, frowns, grins, and toothy smiles. In one of the pictures (Madison’s personal favorite), Hart had his head turned to the side so it almost looked as if he were about to kiss her on the cheek.
Madison sprayed on some Flora, a fragrant floral body spray given to her by her stepmother. Stephanie was always indulging Madison with body creams, sprays, shampoos, candles, and things she said would help Madison to feel pretty and girlie. Mom didn’t mind, as long as Madison didn’t wear makeup or anything too sophisticated.
“For goodness’ sakes, Maddie, you’re only twelve!” was Mom’s constant refrain. Madison wondered what would happen now that seventh grade was ending and thirteen was just around the corner. Would Mom’s rules change just like everything else was changing?
Fully dressed, the rest of the house still asleep, Madison crept down to the kitchen with her laptop. She could make a bowl of cereal and check e-mail at the same time.
With her bowl of Corn Chex and berries, Madison sat at the table and powered up the computer. She was glad to have a wireless router. Her e-mailbox instantly came into view.
FROM SUBJECT
BoopDeeDoop Prom-O-Rama Sale
JeffFinn Dinner!
First$$Mutual Get Life Insurance NOW
AmericanDEX Free Trial Offer
Dantheman clinic SOS
Bigwheels BTW
889MovieLynx screeningtimes
WillPOWR Remember me?
Madison couldn’t believe how jammed the mailbox had gotten since only the day before. She scanned for familiar names first. Dad had sent an e-mail confirming dinner with Stephanie for that Wednesday. Dan had sent more news about the changes at the Far Hills clinic. Even Bigwheels had dropped her a short note.
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: BTW
Date: Mon 12 Jun 11:19 PM
Ok so I know how late it is and my parents would bean me if they knew I was up typing (WEIN?) But I wanted to write and check in again about that whole Ivy enemy fight ur having. I thought of something else u could do. U should send her an anonymous note or something that says u know she’s cheating. That way she’ll get really paranoid. Is that 2 much like something she’d do? LMKWYT.
Yours, till the family feuds (or friend feuds, I guess),
Vicki aka Bigwheels
p.s.: Almost 4got: we’re getting a PONY!! ! My dad and mom decided it would be good therapy for all of us to ride on the wkends. I’ll tell u more l8r. I have 2 think of a good name for her—b/c it’s a girl pony. I know ur probably thinking we already have 2 many pets but who cares? LOL
Bye!
Madison chuckled. Bigwheels was getting another pet? That was really no big surprise. She could practically start her own animal clinic somewhere in Washington State.
After reading the familiar names, Madison moved through the remainder of the e-mails, hitting DELETE after each spam. She didn’t recognize any of these web addresses, like First$$Mutual or AmericanDEX. As for the ad from her favorite store, Boop Dee Doop, Madison didn’t feel like shopping just then. Before she could delete the last e-mail of the bunch, something made Madison stop. The e-mail had been written the night before, after midnight. Madison didn’t know the screen name, WillPOWR, but for some reason, she thought it might be from a real person, not a spammer.
