Read Heart to Heart (From the Files of Madison Finn, 11) Online
Authors: Laura Dower
Heart to Heart (From the Files of Madison Finn, 11) (12 page)
“Thanks, Dad,” Madison said.
Dad kissed her hand and reached out to touch her tiara, as if she were a fairy princess. “You’re growing up,” he said.
“Yes, I am,” Madison said.
“Well—no matter how grown up you get, will you always be my valentine?” Dad asked.
“Of course,” Madison promised, and she meant it. She gave her dad another kiss. “Good night,” she said, racing up the porch steps and inside the house. Dad waited for her to get in.
Madison peeked into her mom’s office before heading to her room. Her mom was typing furiously, frowning at her computer monitor. “Mom?” Madison said softly.
“Madison!” Mom’s face broke into a smile. “Hi, honey bear. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Are you going to be up late?” Madison asked.
“Probably,” Mom admitted. “Are you going to bed?”
“Not yet,” Madison said. “I’ve got some homework … and some e-mails to write,” she added, thinking about Bigwheels.
“I’ll be up in an hour,” Mom said.
“Okay,” Madison said, promising not to stay up too late. Then she shut her mom’s office door gently and padded upstairs to her room. Phin was already fast asleep on her bed as Madison walked into her room. His bandaged leg stuck out at a funny angle. She put the stuffed pug on her pillow and smiled, wondering what Phin would think of it when he woke up.
Madison booted up her computer. She owed Bigwheels an e-mail. But to Madison’s surprise. Bigwheels had already sent her a second message. She clicked on the e-mail.
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: Luv is all U Need!
Date: Wed 12 Feb 8:38 PM
So today, when I went to my locker, there was a note inside for me. It was from Reggie, and it was a poem—he wrote it for me! It said “Roses are red, violets are blue, I wrote this poem, just for
YOU
!” I just can’t believe that I actually have a boyfriend who is romantic! Am I lucky, or what?
I’m so excited for the dance!! I’m going to wear my red velvet dress because Reggie said that my red sweater is his favorite. He loves the color red. Of course, I think Reggie looks way cute in everything he wears, so I told him that I wanted him to wear—
Ugh! Madison thought. She couldn’t read the rest. Bigwheels had totally gone off—the e-mail was over
TWO PAGES
long.
Madison scanned it to see if it ever mentioned anything aside from Reggie and his incredible cuteness.
The name Reggie appeared in every single sentence.
Madison heaved a frustrated sigh. She couldn’t believe that Bigwheels hadn’t even mentioned anything about Madison’s dad and the jewelry store—or anything besides herself. It was like hearing from a different keypal.
She was about to hit
REPLY
, when Madison noticed her chat list at the corner of the screen. Bigwheels was online.
Madison sent her a message.
HI
! I’m so glad ur online! I wanted to tell you a funny story.
TTYL
?
*
Madison was relieved. Her keypal was back to normal, at least for now.
Twing!
Her computer chimed, signaling that another message had come in. Was the message from Bigwheels again?
Madison checked her inbox, and her eyes grew wider.
It was from Orange Crush!
She clicked on the message right away.
From: Orange Crush
To: MadFinn
Subject: Dance
Date: Wed 12 Feb 10:11 PM
I hope we can dance together this Friday.
YSA
YSA, Madison thought. For, “Your Secret Admirer.”
She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Could the message really be from Drew? It was the kind of thing that someone might say after being turned down as a date. Wasn’t it?
There was so much Madison didn’t know—about Drew, valentines, and everything in between. She would have to keep reading the signs carefully.
The dance was only two days away.
“H
ERE YOU GO, MS. FINN,” MR
. Books, the librarian, said as he handed Madison a book on the First Ladies of the American Revolution. Madison had hurried to the sixth-floor library the minute school was over. When Mr. Gibbons had asked everyone to discuss their paper topics in class, she and Fiona practically crawled under the desks. They
HAD
to do some real work—fast. Fiona was planning to meet Madison after soccer practice.
Mr. Books handed Madison some more useful materials.
“There is a good chapter on Abigail Adams in this text. And here is a book on both John and Abigail Adams, and another just on Abigail,” he added, pulling two more books down from the shelf. “I think you’ll find a lot of useful information.”
Madison’s heart sank as he handed her three
more
thick books. There was no way she’d be able to read all of these today! “Um, thanks Mr. Books,” she said, “but—do you have a book with their letters? That’s really what I need.”
“Sadly, no,” Mr. Books said. “Have you tried looking on the Internet?”
Madison jerked her head toward her computer. “Yeah,” she said. “But I could only find a couple of the letters. The entire collection isn’t available online.”
“Well,” Mr. Books said, stroking his long chin thoughtfully, “have you tried the Far Hills library?”
Madison shook her head. “That’s a great idea. Thanks, Mr. Books.”
The librarian smiled. “Any time,” he said.
Madison took her books back to her carrel and shoved them into her book bag. Her shoulders slumped with its weight. When Madison folded up her laptop and placed it inside, she felt like a turtle walking into the hallway. These biographies would come in handy, but right now they felt like boulders.
“Hey, Maddie!” a voice called as Madison stepped through the school’s front door. “Wait up!”
Madison turned and saw Aimee chasing after her. Aimee ran like a dancer—each step seemed like an elegant leap. “Why aren’t you at after-school ballet practice?” Madison asked as her friend caught up to her. Aimee took ballet at Far Hills Junior High and at an outside studio in town.
“It was canceled,” Aimee explained. “In fact, it’s canceled for the rest of the week. The dance teacher has the flu.”
“That’s terrible,” Madison said.
“Yeah,” Aimee agreed. “I guess I’ll have to put in some extra practice time at Madame Elaine’s studio. Are you headed home? Let’s walk together.”
“Actually,” Madison said, “I’m going to the town library.”
Aimee lifted her eyebrows. “You’re going to get
more
books?” she asked, staring at Madison’s already-stuffed bag.
Madison laughed. “Just one more. Do you want to come?”
“Sure,” Aimee said with a shrug. “I don’t have anything better to do except homework. I just need to call my mom.”
“Me too,” Madison said as she and Aimee started walking toward the library. “We can use the pay phone at the library.”
The Far Hills Town Library was the oldest building in town, and it was located just down the road from school. It was a beautiful old limestone building with tall Gothic towers, and—best of all—a stained-glass window that faced you as you walked in. As a little girl, Madison had called the library “the magic castle.”
The front steps were slippery with ice, and Madison and Aimee had to hold on to the iron railing as they walked up to the heavy oak front door. Just inside, the wide gray doormat was soaked with ice and slush, some of which had melted over the slick marble floor. A yellow
SLIPPERY WHEN WET
sign stood nearby, the only evidence of modern times in sight. Madison looked up at the multicolored glass window, which glowed beautifully even in the dim February light, and wondered how long it had been since she had come here. At least two years, she guessed. Since before her parents split. Mom and Dad and Madison had used to come here together on weekends.
Now that she was here, Madison realized just how much she had missed the place.
Madison and Aimee descended a small set of stairs toward the phones and the rest rooms. Aimee called her mom and asked her to pick them up in half an hour. Then Madison left a message for her mom letting her know what time she’d be home.
The girls trooped up to the lobby and Madison walked up to the massive oak reference desk. A slim African American woman with small oval glasses was sitting there, leafing through an enormous volume.
“Excuse me,” Madison said in a whisper. “I’m looking for the letters of John and Abigail Adams.”
The librarian looked up at her and smiled. “That’s wonderful,” she said warmly, as though Madison had chosen the best book in the whole library. “I’ll show you where you can find them.”
Madison gestured to Aimee, and the two girls followed the librarian through the main room, where an assortment of Far Hills residents sat at long tables, bent over books of all shapes and sizes. The librarian led them to a dim corner at the far end of the room. The shelves were lined with volume after volume, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Madison felt like they were the first people to visit that part of the magic castle in a long time.
“Let me see,” the librarian said as she peered at the titles on the shelves. “I think you’ll want the abridged version. That has only the best of the letters.” As Madison watched the librarian’s fingers trace along the spines of the books, she thought of her computer teacher, Mrs. Wing. Mrs. Wing always called herself a “cybrarian” when she helped her students with their online research. Madison thought about how different it was to look things up on the Internet. Even though you could search things more easily, sometimes the computer returned so many choices that it was hard to find what you were looking for. There was something nice about having a librarian who actually knew the books in the library, and could help you find what you wanted on the shelves.
Finally, the librarian found what she wanted. “Ah—here you are,” she said, pulling the volume from the shelf. “Enjoy,” she said with a smile. “This should be very interesting reading.”
Madison flipped open the book and started scanning the pages.
“What is that?” Aimee asked, peering into Madison’s book. “Old letters, or something?”
“Yeah,” Madison said. “John Adams was the second president of the United States, and the vice president under George Washington. He and his wife wrote a ton of letters. She kept begging him to give women rights, but he didn’t listen to her.”
“No kidding?” Aimee said as Madison took off her book bag and settled cross-legged on the floor. She pulled a random book off the shelf and flipped through it absently. “Abigail Adams should have given her husband a piece of her mind.” She sat down next to Madison, and started to read.
Madison pulled out a small pad of purple Post-it notes and began to mark pages with the best letters. That way, she could show them to Fiona when she came over later.
“Hey, look at this,” Aimee said, leaning over to show Madison her book. It was a collection of letters from lots of famous people.
“‘I cannot exist without you—I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again—my life seems to stop there—I see no further,’” Madison read aloud. “Who wrote that?”
“John Keats,” Aimee said, reading from the page. “He was a poet. It says here that he was in love with this woman named Fanny Browne.”
“Wow,” Madison said. John Keats was way more romantic than John and Abigail Adams, that was for sure. She checked her watch. “We’d better get going,” she said, dragging her bag back up over her shoulders. It seemed to weigh a ton. “Your mom will be here soon.”
“Okay,” Aimee said, sliding the book she was reading back into its place on the shelf. “This was fun. I have to come back here.”
Madison and Aimee walked toward the front desk so that Madison could check out her book.
“Hey!” Aimee said. “There’s Dan!” Sure enough, Dan was standing at the front desk, checking out books. Madison gulped. Standing right next to Dan was Hart Jones, looking cuter than ever in a navy blue cap and a gray parka.
Aimee hurried over to say hi.
“Aimee—stop!” Madison hissed, but Aimee didn’t hear her. She had no choice but to follow.
“Hey, Dan! Hey, Hart!” Aimee said as she walked up to the counter.
Dan turned around and smiled at her. “Hey, look, it’s Aimee—and an orange camel,” he added, inspecting Madison’s overstuffed backpack.