Holly's Heart Collection One (28 page)

I really and truly hoped so. I was tired of looking like the only praying mantis around. Guess seventh-grade girls think more about their bodies than they should. For sure more than eighth- and ninth-grade girls.
They’ve
already got their curves. But I figured if a girl like me could survive the seventh grade, where you feel all scrambled up, like in a giant mixing bowl, I could make it through till I truly “blossomed” and
it
happened.

“Look out,” Andie said. “There are tons of cracks coming up.”

We’d turned onto Downhill Court, my street. Part of the sidewalk was bricked, making it almost impossible to run and still miss the cracks. The street was still quiet, too early for activity. The laziness of summer had come.

“I’d rather starve than eat
that
for breakfast,” Andie told Carrie, who sat on the front-porch swing nibbling on a nectarine.

Carrie held up the rosy-colored fruit. “There’s nothing wrong with fruit,” she said. “Here, try a bite.”

“Nope,” Andie said, holding her stomach. “You didn’t wipe off your spit.”

“Don’t be gross in front of my little sister,” I warned.

“Give me a break, Holly.” Andie plopped down on the swing beside Carrie.

“Okay, if you don’t
break
the swing.” I laughed.

Mom came outside, carrying a tray of toast and jelly, and some glasses filled with milk. “Anybody hungry?”

“I am,” Carrie said, reaching for the tray.

“No thanks, I better go,” said Andie, getting up from the swing, making it creak again. “Have to baby-sit my baby brothers while Mom runs errands. See you at Copper Mountain, Holly.”

I nodded. “How much money do we need for the gondola ride?”

I asked, forgetting what the youth pastor had told us last week.

“Not sure. I’ll call you.” Andie sauntered down the redwood steps and waved.

“Better get busy and start packing, Holly-Heart,” Mom said. “If you don’t start planning, you’ll run out of time.” She poured more milk for Carrie.

“I’ll have my things packed in a flash,” I said.

Carrie wiped her mouth, eyes wide. “Where’s Holly going?”

It was then I realized Mom hadn’t told Carrie about our exciting travel plans.

“To California,” Mom said calmly. “And so are you.”

“I am?” Carrie raised her eyebrows.

I hurried to sit on the swing with her, grabbing her hand.

“It’s going to be so fabulous, Carrie. We’ll walk along the beach, shell hunting. Maybe you’ll find some pretty ones to bring home. And…”

“Why are we going?” she asked.

Mom rehashed the whole amazing story. “It’s a good time for both you girls to visit your father. Your grandma will fly out with you while I’m in Denver with Zachary at The Children’s Hospital.

Everything’s set.”

Carrie was quiet. I didn’t know if she was too shocked to speak or just still too sleepy.

“Daddy has a stepson a little older than you, named Tyler. We’ll both get to meet him for the first time,” I said, hoping for a response.

Carrie stood up and placed her empty glass on the tray. “I’m not going,” she said. “I’m staying home. What if Zach gets worse? I can’t leave him behind. I won’t.” She reached for the screen door.

“Carrie, you
have
to go,” I wailed.

“I’ll handle this,” Mom said, getting up and going inside after her.

Just great,
I thought.
My sister’s such a baby.
There was absolutely nothing she could do to help Zach by staying home. Nothing.

I sat there in the morning stillness, listening to the gentle humming sounds of insects as they sent secret messages back and forth. Leaning my head back, I could see the clouds playing follow-theleader.

Slam
went the screen door. I sat up.

There stood Mom, her arms crossed, wearing an exasperated frown. “Carrie simply does not want to go. She’s upstairs crying about it, and I don’t see the sense in forcing her.”

I stuck my feet up under me on the porch swing. “That’s weird. Yesterday she didn’t want to stay behind with a bunch of sitters.”

“There won’t
be
any sitters around, with you and Grandma here until I return from Denver.”

“Grandma? Me?”
What’s happening?
I wondered.

“Holly, I’m sorry, but things have changed,” she said abruptly. “The trip is off. I’m really very sorry.”

“Why?” I cried. “Just because Carrie doesn’t want to go? What about
me
?”

Mom pinched a dead leaf off the geranium plant.

“What about Daddy?” I continued. “He’s expecting us.”

“Your father will have to adjust his plans.”

“Why can’t I go alone? I’m thirteen. Why does everything have to change because of Carrie?”

“Holly, listen,” Mom said. “Carrie’s crying because she’s afraid.”

I sighed. “That’s dumb. There’s nothing to be afraid of. She’s acting like a big baby, and I can’t believe you’re letting her.”

Mom eased down into the porch chair. “There
are
things to be frightened of, and Carrie’s not the only one who has fears. I struggle, too.”

“Like what?” I didn’t really care what, I just wanted to talk sense into Mom. And fast.

“Like losing you, Holly-Heart.”

“How could that possibly happen?” I shot back. She was talking in riddles now.

Sighing, she stared down at her lap. “Maybe you’d end up wanting to live with your father.”

I wanted to laugh. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard. Why would I want to do that?”

She blew her nose. Now Mom was crying.

“If you want to know the truth, Mom, when it comes right down to it, there’s only one thing that could make me want to leave Dressel Hills. And that’s if you and Mr. Tate decided to get married.” There, I’d said it.
My
greatest fear.

“What a terrible thing to say.” She got up. “You have no right to threaten me with such a thing. Now, go to your room.”

“I’d rather go to California!”

“That’s out of the question now,” she said.

The porch swing swayed as I gritted my teeth. So much for miracles and divine email messages.

SECRET SUMMER DREAMS

Chapter 13

I was crushed. How could things be so perfect one minute and so messed up the next?

Lying on the porch swing, I stared up at the sky. Puffs of cotton dotted the blue. They seemed close enough to touch. Squinting one eye shut, I reached up, aiming for the smallest cloud in the bunch. My squinting squeezed out a tear. Then another. Soon, the cloud I reached for was a blurry blob. I dropped my arm and covered my face with it, letting out the sobs.

How could Mom do this to me?

And Daddy…When would I ever see him again? If not this summer, when? Once school started there would be no time. Eighth grade was much harder than seventh. Everyone said so.

The phone rang. I listened through the window, hoping it was Daddy or someone else talking sense to Mom besides me.

The screen door opened. “It’s Andie, for you,” Mom said, handing the phone out to me.

“Hello.” I brushed my tears away.

“Well, don’t
you
sound morbid,” she said.

“Promise not to cheer if I tell you?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she said with a giggle.

“It’s not funny, Andie. The trip’s off.”

“You’re not going?” She was obviously happy.

“No.” I explained my dilemma.

“Well, I called to find out what you’re wearing to the sky ride,” she said, ignoring my woes. “Don’t forget, Danny’ll be there.”

“That’s nice.”

“Hey, I know you better than that,” she said. “You really can’t wait to see him, can you?”

Mom was giving me a signal.

“Gotta go now,” I told her.

“Remember, wear pink,” Andie said.

Mom stood by the kitchen door. She pulled her keys out of her purse. “I have to pick up some groceries for tonight.” She looked at me searchingly. “I’ll be back shortly.”

I turned away. I didn’t want to talk to her. She’d spoiled my summer dreams with her ridiculous fears. Now all I could look forward to was the gondola ride with Danny. If the Miller twins didn’t get to him first.

I’d seen crowded parking lots before, but this one was really hopping. Every teen in the church youth group, and all their friends, must’ve shown up to ride the gondolas up Copper Mountain.

I scanned the cars for Danny. Was he here yet?

Billy Hill was heading up the walkway leading to the ticket booth. I grabbed Andie’s arm. “Look who’s here,” I whispered, popping a chunk of bubble gum into my mouth.

“Shh,” Andie said. “Act cool.”

“Wanna ride with me, girls?” It was Jared, sneaking up behind us. As usual.

“Guess again,” Andie retorted, fluffing her curls. “Don’t you have someone to hang out with?”

“Sure.” He grabbed my arm playfully. “How ’bout you, Holly? You look lonely.”

“Look again.” I blew a bubble in his face.

“Thanks, think I will.” Jared stepped back, playfully turning his head this way and that, as if admiring me.

“Oh, please,” Andie groaned.

Just then I spotted Danny’s auburn hair as he climbed out of the church van. I wondered if he was going to ride the gondola with our youth pastor.
Please come over and talk to me,
I thought, excitement bubbling up.

Andie and I purchased our tickets and stood looking up at the apparatus that held the gondolas on the cable line. Looked wobbly to me. The best thing about the ride, in my opinion, was that the cars were enclosed, with windows all around. Even though there was room enough for four, I secretly hoped Danny and I might have the chance to ride together. Just the two of us.

“Hey,” Danny said to me, arriving in time for boarding.

“Hi, Danny.” My smile was big. I could feel my face stretching…stretching.

“Step right this way,” the man working the gondolas called. He pointed out where I should wait for the next car to come around. “Who’s riding with this young lady?”

Danny stepped up. “I am.” He grinned.

I caught my breath. What a smile he had. And the twinkle in his gray-green eyes did strange things to my pulse rate.

The worker steadied the gondola as it came around, and I stepped in. Danny climbed in and sat in the seat opposite me.

“Keep the window halfway down,” the worker told us. “No roughhousing or leaning out the window. Don’t throw objects out of the gondola. Okay, you’re off.” He slid the door shut, locking it behind us.

My hand clutched my purse. I wished for something to grab on to. No roughhousing…no problem! I wasn’t exactly crazy about heights, and I was hoping our weight would evenly balance the car on the cables so it wouldn’t swing in the slightest.

The car swung away from the wooden platform and out into the open air. I looked down at the parking lot, milling with people. But as we climbed higher, their faces faded, becoming small dots.

We passed over the tops of trees, blue-green pine and quaking aspen. The sun was shining, and a breeze swept through the window, smelling of damp earth and pine needles.

The gondola rumbled past the first set of terminals, shaking us. I shivered a little and looked over at Danny.

“First time on the sky ride?” he asked.

I nodded. “I rode one when I was little. Mom says Daddy took me for a ride on the Fourth of July, but I don’t remember.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” His voice was gentle.

“More than ever.”

“You seem a little sad today,” he said.

I didn’t want to spoil the gondola ride, but I
was
feeling lousy. And Danny had listened so well when I told him about my plans for California. So I shared everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours—about Zachary and his cancer, our plans to go to California with Grandma, how Carrie had chickened out. “It seemed like God was working everything out,” I said, “and then Carrie had to mess it up.”

“Maybe God has a better plan,” Danny said.

“But Mom’s being totally unreasonable.”

“Maybe she’s worried. Mothers do that a lot, you know.”

“No kidding,” I said, recalling Mom’s number-one reason for calling the whole thing off. Absurd!

The gondola began to sway. Not daring to peek down for a minute, I stared out my window at treetop level. Towering pines pointed to the blue sky, and Copper Mountain rose before us in all its splendor. Inside this tiny compartment, I felt uptight about being up as high as the birds, dangling precariously above jagged rocks and forested canyons.