Safe in my room, I wrote a heading for today’s journal entry—“My perfect afternoon with Jared Wilkins.” Paying for my deceit with a week’s grounding was even trade for the hours I’d spent with the cutest, sweetest boy ever.
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
The first week of February—seven days of pure boredom! Going to school was what I lived for. Jared was back, and I was his faithful helper—carrying his tray at lunch, sharpening pencils in class, and helping with his crutches in the hall and everywhere else.
Andie was furious, following us around. But Jared was polite even though it was obvious she couldn’t accept the facts. Jared was my guy now.
After-school hours dragged endlessly. Even Bearie-O was unavailable for dumping my woes. And when Corky, my old teddy bear, showed up on our porch on Tuesday with a note pinned to
his
ear, I knew my friendship with Andie was in deep trouble. But I didn’t care.
Finally the week of being grounded was over. Freedom! Talking on the phone was pure heaven. Best of all, my birthday was getting closer. Mom stocked up on ten toppings and four flavors of ice cream for the birthday bash. One of the flavors was bubble gum, with delicious pieces of pink gum mixed in. I couldn’t wait for the best ice-cream party ever.
On Sunday afternoon I did fancy cuttings with lavender and blue crepe paper. Everything was set for my party the following Saturday.
Then on the Thursday before my birthday, I came home to find a note propped against the cookie jar.
Holly: Carrie and I are at the travel agency. We’ll be back soon. Love, Mom.
I poured a tall glass of milk, stirred chocolate syrup in, and grabbed two cookies to nibble on. My imagination ran wild.
Just great,
I thought
. She’s planning some exotic travel adventure during spring break while I’m in California visiting Daddy….
While pigging out on cookies, I began to compose a note to Jared. I was half finished when the garage door rumbled open. Quickly, I hid the stationery.
Carrie ran into the kitchen, out of breath. “We got plane tickets, and Mom has something to tell you.”
Is it Paris or Tahiti?
Mom walked in at a snail’s pace, her face drawn. She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. I didn’t want to look at her.
This is some cruel trick,
I thought.
Does she really think I’d cancel my plans to go with them instead?
“Holly-Heart.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “Aunt Marla died this morning.”
I was stunned.
“We’re flying to Pennsylvania tomorrow.”
Carrie asked, “Do we have to wear black to the funeral?”
“No, darling,” Mom said, pulling her near.
Tears began to trickle down my cheeks. I couldn’t help myself.
“Your aunt’s pain is finally over,” she said, holding out her arms to me. “She’s with Jesus now.”
“But…what about Holly’s party?” Carrie asked, rubbing her eyes.
“I’m sorry, dear, we’ll have to postpone it,” she said, picking up Goofey and petting him.
I pulled on my hair. “Who feels like celebrating, anyway? I’ll let everyone know.”
The timing was terrible. I’d never anticipated the possibility of a funeral disrupting my thirteenth birthday party plans. Worst of all, Aunt Marla was dead.
Grandpa and Grandma Meredith met us with hugs and tears at the airport. They drove us through the narrow tree-lined streets to their house. Quietly unpacking, I thought back to the happiest times in this house. When Mom and Daddy were still married, we came for week-long visits here in the summer. Uncle Jack and Aunt Marla and our cousins drove the short distance to Grandpa’s house on the Fourth of July. We kids would make short order of the corn on the cob until Grandpa teased that we might turn into walking ears of corn ourselves. At dusk, we wrote our names in the air with the sparklers Uncle Jack gave us. Daddy and his sister, Aunt Marla, would kiss and hug good-bye. Very sweet.
I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. Those days were forever past, not just because Aunt Marla was gone, but because Daddy was, too.
Carrie came in and sat on the quilted bedspread. “Mommy says our dad will be at the funeral tomorrow. Do you think he’ll bring his new wife and kid?” Carrie asked.
“Maybe,” I said, brushing her hair. “I wonder if he’ll recognize us.” I felt giddy with excitement and sadness all mixed together.
“We sent him school pictures last fall, so he should.”
I stopped brushing. “Oh yeah, and mine looked pathetic because I couldn’t get my hair to do anything,” I said, staring at the mirror.
My hair looked droopy now, too. Humidity was part of the problem.
Even in the winter, Pennsylvania air was heavy with moisture.
The funeral was on Saturday—the day my ice-cream party had been scheduled. The church foyer was crowded when we arrived.
People lined up to sign a formal-looking white book on a small table encircled with red roses. Mothers with young children and their executive-type husbands—probably men who worked with Uncle Jack—waited to say their good-byes to Aunt Marla.
The family was supposed to gather in a small reception room behind the church sanctuary. Carrie and I followed Mom down the long hallway to the private room. Grandma and Grandpa were sitting with Uncle Jack and the cousins. We settled into the soft chairs behind them.
Relatives I hardly knew stood around. Mom introduced Carrie and me to them. They were from Daddy’s side of the family.
Behind me I heard whispering and turned to see who it was. In the doorway stood a handsome man wearing a navy blue suit. He was with a smartly dressed woman.
Four plus years of mounting curiosity hit me in the face. This man was my father.
“Holly?” he said. “What a beauty you are.” He turned to the woman. “Honey, I want you to meet my daughter Holly.”
“Hello,” I said, suddenly shy. I reached out to touch her gloved hand.
“Holly, I’d like you to meet Saundra, my wife.”
By then Carrie was tugging at me to leave. I grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“Well, hello there, Carrie,” Daddy said, bending low.
She looked up at me, confused. “That’s him?” she whispered back at me.
Daddy smiled. “It’s wonderful to see both of you.”
Saundra said, “We were happy to receive your letter, Holly.”
“Yes,” Daddy said. “I was planning to call…to set up a flight schedule. But now we can discuss the trip in person.” He stepped toward me like he wanted to hug me, so I offered a quick one.
“I’ll see you at the dinner for the family tonight,” I said, turning to look for Carrie, who had already slipped away.
She was standing across the room beside our young cousin Stephanie, who sat, eyes swollen, leaning against Mom. It was time for Aunt Marla’s funeral to begin.
The church was filled with a sweet fragrance from the many floral sprays. The organ played softly, and voices were hushed. I touched the tissues in my dress pocket. I knew I’d need them.
After the funeral, we waited to ride in one of the black limousines to the cemetery. Carrie begged Mom to let Stephie ride with us.
“Uncle Jack wants all of the children to ride together,” Mom told us as we walked down the church steps.
The limo pulled up, but there was room for only two more people.
“I’ll ride in the next one,” I said. Mom agreed.
Another limo came around, and I got in. Daddy and his new wife climbed in behind me. He looked lousy from grief; his face was pale and his eyes were red.
I felt numb. Aunt Marla’s funeral wasn’t exactly the best place to reunite with my long-lost father.
The ride to the cemetery was awkward. Here I sat across from this Saundra person trying to be polite when I really wanted to shout: Leave me alone with my dad!
What was she doing here, anyway? She’d probably never even met Aunt Marla. To top things off, she began chattering about spring break and where we could go sightseeing. Stuff like that. “We’ve planned a delightful time for you,” she said. “Next month, isn’t it?”
She opened her purse, took out lipstick and a mirror, and began to touch up her already bright red lips.
“The last week in March.” I glanced at Daddy. “Maybe you should talk to Mom about it.”
“There will be plenty of time for that tonight,” he said, adjusting his tie. He was as handsome as I’d remembered. “Tomorrow is your birthday,” he commented. “When are you flying back?”
“We’ll get home late tomorrow night.” Too late to have the ice-cream party. Too late to celebrate my milestone birthday with my friends. With Jared.
Saundra asked, “Is there something special you’d like for your big day?”
I tugged on my hair as I thought of the most special things in all the world. They couldn’t be purchased by her or anyone. But there was
something.
“The latest mystery novel by Marty Leigh just came out. I’d like that.”
Saundra smiled, closing her compact mirror with a click. Did she really think she could make points with me so easily?
“How are you doing in school?” Daddy asked. “Good grades? Lots of friends?”
I told him about my B+ average, but I didn’t tell him about my ongoing journal writing or about Jared.