Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
Copyright
“Slow down,” Josie’s social studies teacher called as the entire class raced for the door. The final bell had just rung, and everyone was ready to leave the steamy classroom in Frost Ridge Middle School.
As the kids pushed through the door and out into the crowded hallway, Josie waited quietly at the back. She had somewhere else to be, too, but she’d rather wait a few minutes than risk getting trampled. But just then, Oscar Madison shoved past her, with Dev Gupta right behind him, his elbow smacking Josie’s nose. She rubbed her face as the boys flew out of the room, not even noticing.
Students were still streaming down the hallway when Josie finally made it out of the classroom. People were clustered in groups or in pairs, talking and laughing together. Josie stayed to the side of the hall and made her way to the sixth grade locker alcove. She packed up her stuff, put on her big blue down jacket, and headed for the exit. There was a slight spring in her step by the time she finally pushed through the heavy metal doors of the school and out into the biting cold of the late November afternoon.
“I love your coat,” Aisha King called right behind Josie.
Josie turned automatically—but of course popular Aisha wasn’t talking to her. Josie wasn’t exactly setting the fashion scene on fire with her puffy coat. Aisha had been talking to Gabby Chavez, a Frost Ridge fashion icon with her sleek, glittery outfits that all the girls tried to imitate. Gabby was also smart and beautiful, with glowing bronze skin and silky black curls. But Josie thought the true key to Gabby’s popularity was the way she smiled at a person like she’d never met anyone more fascinating in her life. Gabby had once beamed at Josie like that, when Josie had picked up a pen Gabby had dropped, and that grin had lit up Josie’s whole day. Whatever it was, Gabby was a sixth grade celebrity, always surrounded by a group of adoring admirers. Pretty much the opposite of Josie.
But that was okay. Josie wasn’t into crowds, anyway. She shrugged it off and headed down the ice-crusted sidewalk, snowflakes landing softly on her cheeks as she walked. Frost Ridge was a small town tucked into the side of a gently sloping mountain. The west side of town overlooked the valley below and the east side viewed the peaks of more impressive neighboring mountains. It didn’t take long to walk from the school to Main Street, where stores and restaurants lined the wide sidewalk leading up to the big town square. Josie inhaled deeply as she passed Snickerdoodle’s. The bakery always smelled like a delicious combination of chocolate, cinnamon, and fresh-baked bread. Josie debated stopping in for one of their signature treats, a rich butter cookie coated with sugar and cinnamon, but she was already running late. Josie was eager to get to Frost Ridge County Hospital, where she volunteered almost every day, performing short skits and songs for the sick kids staying on the pediatric ward.
But she had one stop to make on her way. She turned off Main Street onto Dandelion Drive. All the streets in town, except for Main Street, were named after flowers, which was kind of funny for a town in the mountains of northern New York, where gardens bloomed less than two months of the year.
Josie walked up the path to the small gray and burgundy house that she and her mom had lived in with her grandparents for the past five years. The minute she opened the front door, she was tackled by an exuberant dog.
“I missed you, too, Clementine,” Josie cooed to her beloved pet, kneeling down so she could hug her. Clementine was a mix, but she was mostly Shiba Inu, with a tan coat, a creamy white belly, soft pointed ears, and a fluffy curlicue of a tail.
Clementine was so overcome at their reunion that she yipped and danced around for a moment before snuggling close and licking Josie on the chin. Josie scratched behind Clementine’s ears, the way her dog loved, and Clementine wriggled with contentment.
“You’d think we kept her locked in a closet all day,” Josie’s grandfather said as he made his way into the entry hall, leaning heavily on his cane.
“I know you spoil her when I’m gone,” Josie teased, standing up to give her grandfather a hug, too.
“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” her grandfather asked, patting her back and then peering out the window next to the front door. The snow was falling thick and fast.
“Yeah, it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop,” Josie said.
“Make sure you wear a hat,” Josie’s grandmother said as she walked into the hallway.
“Grandma, that’s cheating!” Josie cried, pointing at her grandmother. She was wearing a red sweater with candy canes dancing across the front. Every year her grandmother knit everyone in the family matching Christmas sweaters. By now they had quite a collection that they wore all through the holiday season—the candy canes were from two years earlier. But the family rule was that they had to wait until December first for any of their Christmas sweaters (as well as the vast collection of Christmas carol CDs and decorations) to come out of storage.
Her grandmother smoothed back a wisp of hair that had fallen out of her bun and smiled at Josie. “I just couldn’t wait,” she admitted.
Josie had to laugh at that. Her grandparents were like giddy little kids in the weeks leading up to Christmas, which was one of the many things Josie loved about living with them. Her grandparents had come from Vietnam to America when they were young to flee from the war. Josie believed they were probably the happiest people she knew, appreciating everything about their lives in America. And that was never truer than at Christmastime.
“Okay, I guess it’s close enough,” Josie said. “And don’t worry, I have a hat, Grandma.” She held up the bright green cap with earflaps that had been in her Christmas stocking last year. Her grandmother seemed to spend most of the year knitting gifts for Christmas. “I just need to get Clementine’s stuff.” Josie set her backpack on the floor next to the dresser that held the family’s large collection of gloves, scarves, and hats, as well as Clementine’s supplies. Josie fished a leash out of the top drawer and snapped it onto Clementine’s collar. Then she slipped a warm pink doggy coat over Clementine’s round middle. “Ready, girl?” she asked.
Clementine barked in agreement. She always seemed to understand Josie perfectly.
“I’m making chicken curry for dinner,” her grandmother said. “The one with lemongrass and sweet potatoes.” Her grandmother’s yummy dinners were another one of the things Josie loved about living with them. And she knew the help from her grandparents made it much easier for her mom to work her full-time job at the post office.
“I won’t be late for that,” Josie promised. Clementine bobbed next to her, eager to get going.
“You two have a good time,” her grandfather said, holding open the door.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Josie said as she and Clementine headed out into the wintry afternoon.
“And don’t work too hard,” he added before closing the door behind them.
“It’s not really work, is it, Clem?” Josie asked as they started down the street
. Clementine trotted next to her, and Josie felt a rush of love for her dog. Five years ago, on Christmas Eve, when her father was on the verge of losing his battle with cancer, Josie had found a small tan puppy in a box next to a Dumpster behind the drugstore. Clementine had whined fearfully when Josie came close enough to see that her fur was scraggly and her paw had been injured. Josie had her own crushing pain to bear, and it lifted just the tiniest bit when she saw how much Clementine needed her. Something in Josie had healed while she cared for her new dog, and now, seeing Clementine, her fur shiny and her bark happy as she pranced about, made Josie happier than anything. Clementine had truly been the best Christmas gift ever.
Clementine was a special dog. Of course, all dogs were special, that was a given. But Clementine had a sixth sense that told her when people were upset. She had stayed close to Josie’s grandmother after her grandfather’s hip surgery, snuggling next to her at night and sitting at her feet while she had long, anxious phone calls with their insurance company. When Josie’s mother was worried about cutbacks at work, Clementine had stayed glued to her side. And whenever Josie felt bad about not being invited to a party or about a test that hadn’t gone so well, Clementine was right there, ready to cuddle. Which was the best cure for any kind of problem, at least in Josie’s mind.
And the Frost Ridge hospital seemed to feel that way, too. That was why Clementine was volunteering there as well. She was one of the founding members of the hospital’s Canine Visitation Program, where trained dogs were brought in to visit patients.
Josie and Clementine turned onto Buttercup Avenue. Up ahead the bright lights of the hospital shone through the falling snow, and a minute later Josie led Clementine though the first set of automatic doors. She paused to stomp snow off her boots and brush away the small drifts that had gathered on Clementine’s back before walking into the bustling hospital lobby.
“Hey there, Josie,” Ms. Nunez, the security guard, said.
“Hi,” Josie said, unzipping her coat so she wouldn’t get sweaty on the walk to the volunteer room. Unlike Josie’s home, which was kept at a chilly sixty-eight degrees to save on heating costs, this building always felt like a warm summer day.
Josie walked briskly down the beige hallway, past posters sharing health tips and hospital information, keeping her head down as she went. Aside from Ms. Nunez and a few doctors in the intensive care unit, Josie didn’t know the staff outside the peds ward. And since the ward was the one place besides home where she was truly comfortable, she got there as fast as she could. Though she did always take one turn out of her way to avoid the ICU, the only section of the hospital that could still make her sad.
Josie got out of the elevator on the second floor. The walls were covered in bright murals of jungle animals and fairy-tale characters, soft chairs and toy baskets sat in the waiting area, and a big bookshelf held rows of donated books for kids of all ages. Josie had officially arrived at the peds ward. She headed straight for the nurse’s station.
“Want a cookie?” Nurse Joe asked, holding up a box from Snickerdoodle’s.
“Thanks.” Josie happily accepted a big cinnamon cookie, which she crunched down on, the sugar and cinnamon melting on her tongue.
“How are things in your world today?” Nurse Joe asked. He was wearing scrubs printed with barnyard animals, and a matching cap covered his short dreadlocks. Nurse Joe, who had dark brown skin and a wide grin at the ready, was a favorite on the ward. He used silly voices to put younger patients at ease and explained things carefully to older ones, making sure they understood exactly what was happening with their treatment.
“I’m excited about the holiday season starting tomorrow,” Josie said.
“I hear that,” Nurse Joe said, putting up a hand for a high five.
Josie slapped his palm, then she and Clementine headed down the hall.
“Hey, guys,” Charlie, an adult volunteer, said, stopping so that Clementine and his dog, Gus, could sniff each other. Gus, who had a black-and-white spotted coat and long ears, was another enthusiastic canine volunteer.
After the humans and dogs said their hellos, Charlie and Gus moved on to visit patients while Josie and Clementine continued to the volunteer room.
“Hi, Josie,” Ed Santamaria said when she walked in. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror adjusting his curly red wig. He was clearly in clown mode, with baggy polka-dot pants and bright purple suspenders to go with the wig.
“Hi, Josie,” echoed Jade Chen. She was inside the costume closet and her voice was muffled.
“Hey,” Josie said, greeting her fellow volunteers and letting Clementine off her leash so she could say hi, too. Ed and Jade were students at the high school. They performed skits and songs but didn’t participate in the Canine Visitation Program, so they always enjoyed snuggling Clementine, who was more than happy to oblige.
Jade emerged from the closet in a red flannel footed onesie and sleeping cap pulled over her long black hair. “I thought I’d try something new today,” she said, petting Clementine and then shoving Ed playfully away from the mirror so she could get the tassel of her hat just right. “I’m going to be Suzie Sleeps-a-lot.”
“Sounds like a snore,” Ed said, and Josie and Jade both groaned.
“Come on, Josie, you think I’m funny, right?” Ed asked with big, pleading eyes, his hands clasped at his chest. Clearly he was getting into his clown character. Ed and Jade were both members of the high school drama club and wanted to be actors when they graduated, but not Josie. She only liked performing here for the kids and their families.
“Sorry,” Josie said, laughing.
Even though she was the youngest volunteer, she never felt left out. The others included her in all their conversations, and, until last week, Josie had gone around the ward with a partner. But Josie’s partner, Ainyr Swift, had stopped working at the hospital because she was too busy with college applications. Josie was going to miss the fun they had together. She could sing by herself, but she was hoping to find another partner soon.
“See you, Josie,” Ed said.
Jade blew a kiss as they walked out to begin their rounds.
The door closed behind them, and Josie headed for the costume closet. She was in the mood for something silly, maybe the fried egg outfit or the cowgirl dress with matching rhinestone-studded boots. As she stepped into the closet, she couldn’t help gazing at the rack holding her favorite costumes: velvety elf suits, plush Santa coats, and shimmery angel gowns. Performing for the kids was fun year-round, but it was best during the month leading up to Christmas. The month that would begin tomorrow. And Josie could hardly wait.
For now, Josie pulled on the cowgirl costume, stepped into the sparkly boots, and grabbed the big ten-gallon hat that went with it. She took a moment to put her hair in a ponytail so it wouldn’t get in her face while she performed. Josie always wished she’d inherited her mother’s thick black hair that cascaded down her shoulders, kind of like Gabby Chavez and her mane of curls. But while Josie got her tan skin and brown eyes from the Asian side of her family, her thin, blah brown hair came from her dad.
When she came out of the closet dressed and ready to go, she saw that Ms. D’Amato, the volunteer coordinator, had come in and was petting Clementine.
“Josie,” Ms. D’Amato said. “How are you?” The volunteer coordinator was normally chipper, but today the bounce was gone from her voice. Clementine noticed and pressed her furry body against Ms. D’Amato’s legs.
“I’m good, thanks,” Josie said, turning the cowboy hat in her hands. “How are you?”
Ms. D’Amato seemed to sag in her red high heels. “Well, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” she said.
The words bad news made Josie’s stomach clench, and she was suddenly gripping the hat so hard, the brim bent back in her hands. Clementine was by her side in seconds, leaning gently against her.
“It’s about the Christmas Festival,” Ms. D’Amato said. The Festival took place every Christma
s Eve and was the big finish to a month of holiday fun. It was a jubilant show with skits, musical numbers, and a big carol sing-along, and it gave kids who were in the hospital over the holidays a fun celebration with their families. Children who had chronic illnesses that took them in and out of the hospital throughout the year came, and members of the community, including the town council and mayor, were also invited so that the whole lower auditorium was packed for hours of Christmasy fun. Ms. D’Amato and everyone else knew it was Josie’s favorite event of the year, though none of them, not even her mom, knew the exact reason why.
“Is there a problem?” Josie asked, still twisting the hat.
“The problem is that there’s no one to organize it,” Ms. D’Amato said. “Olivia Bakir in admissions has always done it, but she’s retiring next week and moving to New Mexico. She doesn’t have time to find volunteers to perform and to supervise the rehearsals.”
“And there’s no one else who wants to do it?” Josie asked. There was no way that could be true.
But Ms. D’Amato shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “Everyone’s just so busy since the budget was cut.”
“But what about the kids?” Josie asked, her voice shrill in her ears. “They’ll be so disappointed.”
“I know,” Ms. D’Amato said, the corners of her mouth turning down. “I wish there was something I could do, but I’m overextended as it is.”
Josie knew how hard the volunteer coordinator worked, often staying late and coming in on weekends to make sure everyone had what they needed to entertain the patients. But there had to be someone, anyone, who could take over the Festival.
“I’m sorry, Josie,” Ms. D’Amato said. She straightened up, ready to head back out. “I know how much the Festival means to you. We’ll all miss it this year.”
Josie couldn’t let this happen.
The last thing she wanted was to have to approach people she didn’t know and ask them to participate in the Festival. And the thought of running rehearsals made her feel lightheaded, like she might pass out onto the worn sofa on the far side of the room. But there was no other option, not if she wanted to save her beloved Festival.
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