Holly's Heart Collection One (17 page)
Before I could say more she turned to leave, running full speed down our driveway and across the street.
“Andie!” I called. “Please don’t leave like this.”
It was a long, cold three blocks to her house, but she kept going. Her figure rounded the corner and disappeared at the end of Downhill Court.
I shivered uncontrollably. My fabulous plan had totally backfired. What could I do now?
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
Downstairs in the family room, I found the boys cutting through Billy’s cast with the small hacksaw I’d hidden behind the TV for this purpose.
“Guess I don’t need this anymore.” Billy tossed the cast aside.
“Where’d you get it?” Joy asked, eager to know.
“My mom really is a doctor. She did a good job of making me look injured.”
Staring at the signatures on the discarded cast, I felt sick inside. The scheme had blown up in my face. And Andie and I were as far removed as east and west.
Jared? He was nowhere to be seen now. Missing…in my house somewhere?
“He’s hiding out in the bathroom,” Billy said when I asked. “We sure did a number on him, don’t you think?”
“It wasn’t him I was after,” I whispered, wishing this night had never happened. It was obvious the party was over. I thanked Marcia Greene for her fabulous dramatic skills as she left the house. Billy too.
Then, going back downstairs, I vented my frustration by yanking down all the streamers. At last, Jared came out of the bathroom, like a turtle emerging from its shell.
He picked up the vase with the rose and leaned his nose deep into the flower. “Too bad, isn’t it?” he said.
I tossed a crumpled wad of crepe paper to the floor. “No kidding.”
“A rose is a symbol of love,” he continued. “The Bible says we should love everyone, right? I’m doing the best I can to be a loving Christian.”
I wanted to choke. Was this guy for real?
“Jared, just go home. You’re leading girls on, and that has nothing to do with God’s love.” I threw his jacket at him and pointed to the stairs.
He flashed me a wink and a grin. “See ya, Holly-Heart.”
He never quits,
I thought, going in search of Mom. She was in bed, propped up with a zillion pillows, reading a magazine. When she saw me, she patted the bed beside her. I snuggled in and shared the entire dreadful evening with her.
“You embarrassed Andie in front of her classmates,” Mom chided. “How else would you expect her to react?”
I nodded. “It was a lousy mistake. I didn’t think about how
she’d
feel, only how lonely I felt.” I pulled my socks off and threw them one at a time across the room. “Now what’ll I do?”
Mom slipped her arm around me. “Only one thing, Holly-Heart. Apologize.”
She was right.
“It won’t be easy,” I said. “And Andie might not forgive me.”
Mom squeezed my hand. “Oh, I don’t know. Given time, you might be surprised what Andie will do.”
I returned to my own bedroom, where I dressed in my nightshirt and read my devotional. Lying in the darkness, I replayed the events of the party in my mind. Over and over, I recalled Andie’s reaction. How could she ever forgive me?
At church on Sunday, my conscience still pricked at me. How could I have done such a terrible thing to my best friend? I listened carefully when our pastor spoke of forgiveness of sins, and I said a silent prayer of thanks to God that He had already forgiven me. Now if I could only get Andie to do the same.
I searched right away for Andie after the service, finding her alone in the choir room. She sat at the piano, numbering measures in her music.
Standing behind the piano, I was silent for a moment. Then I said, “I’m sorry about last night, Andie. Can you ever forgive me?”
She looked up, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Sure, Holly. I forgive you. But you should know that Jared and I are already back together.”
Not surprising. Jared’s charisma was hard to resist.
She went on. “He apologized to me, too. And to Marcia Greene. Jared’s trying to be more up front with me now. He just wants to be good friends with
all
the girls. Really.”
Some joke. If only she knew how Jared had flirted with
me
last night after everyone left. But it was pointless. She’d never believe it.
I sighed. “I hope you two get along all right.” With nothing more to say, I left the room. At least she and I were talking again. But we couldn’t possibly be close friends. Not until Jared Wilkins was out of the picture.
February fizzled, and March piled snow on us until I thought winter might never end. I spent most of my free time with Marcia Greene. And even though Andie and I didn’t talk much, at least we were civil to each other. She continued to help Jared with his crutches and his books, standing sentinel at his locker to assist him with his every whim.
The second week in March, Jared had his cast removed. To celebrate, Andie decorated his locker door with colorful balloons. I congratulated him, hoping that now that he could walk without crutches, Andie and I could resume our friendship.
But nothing seemed to change. She stuck by him as closely as before. And worse, Jared kept trying to flirt with me! At choir practices, in English class, at church. Even though I didn’t respond, he kept it up.
At last it was Saturday, March twenty-seventh—the final choir rehearsal before we left for our tour on Monday. After numerous dress rehearsals in February, the choir had gone into a slump, but Mr. Keller was going to present a unified choir or die trying. We prayed at the beginning of rehearsal, as usual. Then he said, “Let’s chat.” He motioned for us to sit on the risers. “Some of you are still thinking in terms of solo work. In a choir situation”—and here he waved his arms to include all of us—“we must have togetherness. We’re a group of singers, not thirty different people doing our own thing. So blend. Listen to each other. The theme of our tour is ‘Hearts in One Accord.’ When we sing in each of the churches on the tour, the audience must feel our inspiration, our love for the Lord and for each other.” A couple kids snickered. “C’mon, kids, you know what I mean.”
I glanced at Andie, who was sitting at the piano. She, of course, was gazing at Jared, next to me.
She must really care for him,
I thought sadly.
Mr. Keller continued. “Acts 2:46 says, ‘Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people.’ ” He asked for hands. “Let’s have some input from you. What’s this verse mean?”
Hands shot up.
“Yes, Danny?”
“The early Christians were in agreement. They were united.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Keller said. “More ideas?” He pointed to Jared.
“They looked forward to pigging out together?”
The kids laughed.
Mr. Keller nodded. “But wasn’t it more
how
they broke bread together?”
I raised my hand. “They were together in everything. Like best friends.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Think about what Holly said as we rehearse the last stanza of page forty-four.”
I thought about Andie sitting there at the piano as we sang. I missed her terribly. More than anything, I hoped this choir tour would restore us to true friendship. That was my earnest prayer.
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
Dizzy with excitement, I stood at the back of the Los Angeles Chapel, peering through the glass separating the foyer from the sanctuary. Scarcely was there a vacant seat—each pew was filled, right up to the altar. The crowd fidgeted. Young children peeked at parents’ programs, and teens whispered on the far left side, segregated from the rest. I looked over rows of heads and soon spied Saundra’s swept-up red hair. Where was Daddy?
I became aware of the nervous rustlings behind me—the other girls, straightening their lavender dresses.
“Ready for the concert?” Jared, my assigned escort, whispered.
Just then, I caught a glimpse of Daddy at the drinking fountain.
“Excuse me,” I said, moving out of line and dashing to him.
“Holly,” he said with awe in his voice. “You look simply stunning.” He gave me a tight hug.
I heard the musical cue and reluctantly pulled away. “Wait for me after the concert, okay? We’ll talk then.” I scurried back to my appointed spot.
Jared’s hand touched my back lightly as he guided me to my place beside him. I slipped my hand through his elbow, and we were off. It felt weird walking down the aisle with him, like we were in a wedding, or worse, getting married to each other! Andie regarded us with a half-sarcastic, half-accusing look as we rounded the altar and walked up the steps.
On the platform, we located our place on the risers. Quickly, I searched the audience for Daddy, who was leaning forward slightly. His warm smile beckoned to me like a beacon in the sea of faces.
Energetically, we sang our opening song, a lively chorus, “Everybody Sing Praises to the Lord.” It was a great start by the sound of the applause. Somehow, I made it through the next few songs, even though Jared kept inching closer and closer. I refused to respond to his immature behavior.
At the intermission, during the offering, Jared strolled through the lobby to me. Handsomely outfitted in his black suit, he was any girl’s dream.
“You’re going to introduce me to your father, right?” he asked, grinning.
I stepped back. “Why should I?”
“C’mon, Holly, you know Andie and I are just—”
“I’ve heard it before. Just friends, right?” I interrupted.
Andie materialized out of nowhere. “Flirting again, I see,” she said to
me.
“Tell that to Jared,” I said. “If you’re too blind to see the truth, then you deserve him!” I hurried to the back of the foyer area. Refusing to cry, I flipped through the church’s brochure, attempting to read the now-blurry statement of faith.
“Holly?”
Whirling around, I found the gray-green eyes of Danny Myers looking down at me.
“Problems with Andie?” His voice had a calming effect on me. I didn’t have to tell him what was wrong. The whole choir seemed to know.
My voice grew soft. “It’s not her fault. She’s just…”
“Just what?” He seemed interested. His eyes were kind—so was his face. He was older than me and seemed wiser spiritually. I remembered the way he’d prayed even at school during lunch.
“She’s being fooled,” I finally said. “It makes me angry.”
“Why does it bother you so much?”
I told him how close Andie and I had always been. Until now. How I preferred
one
best friend and Andie had changed all that, because of Jared.
Danny nodded and smiled as though he understood. “Sit here, Holly.” He patted a chair near the deacon’s room. “You can’t sing with those kinds of feelings. We’re here to give to people, to minister through our music. There could be people here tonight who need Jesus.”
“I know,” I said, tears refusing to dry up. I was thinking of one of those people: Daddy. The Gospel message we sang was for him. “I can’t go back in there at all,” I mumbled through my tissue. “Not looking this way.”
“Let me pray for you.”
I blinked the stubborn tears away.
“And we’ll pray for Andie, too,” he said. “She
needs
your friendship again. Can you forgive her?”
“In my heart, I can. Outside, it’s not so easy.”
Danny prayed a quiet prayer, full of assurance. It touched my heart. And as the choir lined up for the second half, I felt confident again.
I thrilled to the melodies we sang—slow hymns and fast gospel songs. Lost in the music, I watched Mr. Keller’s every move. During the last song, I saw Daddy reach for his handkerchief. He wiped his eyes. It was the first time I’d seen him cry. A lump came to my throat. Could this concert be a new beginning for him? The answer to my prayers?