Andie’s mother opened the door, eyeing my afghan-wrapped bundle. “Quick, come inside, it’s whipping up a storm.” She hurried through the living room and called up the steps for Andie.
“Be down in a sec,” Andie hollered down.
I waited silently, even though Andie’s mother cast curious glances at the quiet lump in my arms.
“My toy…mine!” a husky shout came from the kitchen. One of Andie’s twin brothers, no doubt. The three-year-olds weren’t identical in looks, but their vocal chords definitely had matching decibel levels.
Mrs. Martinez excused herself to investigate the battle, leaving me alone with my precious Goofey. It was sweet having these last few minutes together. Just the two of us. For all too soon, Andie and her family would be the proud new owners of a weird-looking cat named Goofey Meredith.
Meredith’s my last name. But Mom traded it to marry Jack Patterson at Thanksgiving, two and a half months ago.
I figured as long as the honeymoon lasted, Goofey was safe. A kind-hearted man like Jack Patterson could take allergy pills off and on, no problem, no complaints. But I’d guessed wrong. Mom was completely bummed out by the medication’s side effects. And who could blame her? Uncle Jack was flat-out droopy.
“Hey, Holly.” Andie appeared wearing dark blue jeans and a black sweater. Her dark curly hair framed her chubby cheeks. She eyed the afghan suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“We have to talk,” I whispered.
She came over and peeked under the afghan. “Oh, it’s Goofey,” she said. “What’s he doing here?”
“It’s a long story,” I said. “But here’s the deal. Goofey’s up for adoption, and I’m giving you first chance to—”
“Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “I don’t want your cat.” A look of horror spread across her face. “He’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“His looks never bothered you before,” I snapped. “All those times at my house—shoot, you even slept with him.”
“That’s different than claiming him. You keep him.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Uncle Jack’s allergic, and Mom’s sick of the pills.”
She tried to keep from laughing, but a giggle escaped. “That was so funny at their wedding when your uncle sneezed all over the place. Remember?”
How can I forget?
“Look, I didn’t come here to discuss that,” I said. “I’m here because I thought you might consider helping me out.”
She motioned me up the stairs. Once in her room, she closed the door. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The pink floral comforter had slid halfway off her bed.
“Honestly, Holly,” she said, “I’d consider taking your cat for you if I could. It’s just that I’m in the middle of real important stuff right now.”
I studied her. What was she trying to say?
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Andie sat on the floor cross-legged, leaning her back against the bed. Goofey jumped out of the afghan.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
“Well, it’s just that…” She stopped.
I sat down. “You can tell me anything, Andie,” I reassured her. “We’ve been best friends forever. What is it?”
“Your fourteenth birthday,” she said, twisting a dark curl around her finger. “I can’t come to your party. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that we’re going to Denver Friday evening, and we won’t be back in time.”
I glared at her. “Why are you telling me this now? The party’s a week from today.”
“We—my family and I—have been waiting for some paper work,” she admitted.
I fumed. “What paper work…and what’s going on in Denver?
“ Christiana’s coming.”
“Who?” The way Andie sounded, Christiana might have been the Queen of England or something.
“My pen pal from Austria. Christiana’s coming to stay with us for five weeks. It’s a private exchange program her parents set up with us.” Andie was silent, like she was waiting for me to respond.
I jumped on it. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“We didn’t know if it was going to work out or not.”
I felt totally left out. “When were you going to tell me?”
She shrugged. “Soon enough.”
“So you’re saying you can’t adopt Goofey because of some overseas pen pal? And you’re skipping my birthday to pick her up?” I stared at Andie.
“It’s just one of those things,” she said apologetically. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to take your cat. I hope so, Holly, for your sake.”
“C’mon, Goofey,” I said, rewrapping him in Mom’s afghan. “We have to go.”
“Sorry. I really am.” Andie’s face drooped, and she played with her leather watchband.
I headed into the blustery February afternoon without even saying good-bye.
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
Chapter 3
By the time the city bus arrived, I felt like a human icicle. Sliding into the first available seat, I cuddled Goofey close. Feelings of frustration swept over me. I couldn’t decide which was worse, losing my precious cat, or not having Andie at my birthday party this year.
Without Andie, there was no need for a party. Who wants to celebrate turning fabulous fourteen without your best friend?
I stared out the window. Snowflakes were beginning to fall. Uncle Jack was right; it looked like we were going to get dumped on.
Downtown, the bus stopped to take on more passengers. Paula and Kayla Miller got on, loaded down with shopping bags, probably filled with designer clothes. They wore their brown hair down, matching as always.
“Hey,” I said when they saw me.
They sat in the seat behind me. Paula stared at the afghan in my arms. “Did I hear a cat crying?” she asked, flashing her sickening-sweet smile.
Glancing around, I slowly revealed my cat. “This is my homeless pet, Goofey.”
Paula’s eyes blinked, a week’s worth of mascara weighing them down. “He doesn’t look homeless to me.”
Kayla spoke up. “We heard about Mr. Patterson’s allergies. Our father told us.”
Paula and Kayla’s dad worked with my stepdad in a consulting firm. I wasn’t surprised that they’d heard about the problems with Goofey.
“What a shame,” Paula cooed over my shoulder, nearly in Goofey’s face. “He’s so sweet.” Then she got up and slid into the seat beside me. “Mind if I pet him?”
“Okay,” I lied through my teeth. I didn’t want her talking to me, let alone cuddling my cat! This girl had caused me enough trouble to last a lifetime.
I cringed silently as Paula took Goofey from me.
“I’ve always wanted a cat,” she confessed.
And that’s not all, I thought. She wanted to take away my guy friend, Jared Wilkins, too!
Kayla hung over the back of my seat. “He really is cute, in an odd sort of way.”
I couldn’t bear all this ogling, so I changed the subject. “Where are you two headed?”
“Home,” they said in unison.
“We ran into Miss Wannamaker at Plain and Fancy Things,” said Kayla. “She’s so sweet. We just love her.”
Miss W was popular with lots of kids. Whether she taught grammar or creative writing, she made words come alive.
“I think Miss W’s in love,” Paula continued. “We saw her pricing wedding dresses.”
This news was really something for a woman in her fifties who’d never married.
“I think she’d make a fabulous wife,” I said. But I was more preoccupied with the twins than with Miss W. I’d made it a point to avoid them ever since they’d moved from Pennsylvania last year. They were so perfect looking and rich it made me sick. They chattered constantly about shopping trips to the mall. Especially Paula. She had a habit of showing off her expensive clothes. But worst of all, she’d been after Jared for months. She still glazed over whenever
he was in close range. And even though he had assured me she wasn’t his type, I didn’t trust her.
“Is this your street?” Paula asked.
“Uh, yes, it is,” I stuttered, turning toward Goofey. Still wrapped in Mom’s afghan, he was snuggled against Paula’s white fur jacket. I stood up and the bus jolted to a stop. I lurched forward, reaching out to stop my fall.
I felt Paula yank the back of my ski jacket, steadying me. I regained my balance but didn’t bother to thank her.
“Downhill Court,” announced the driver.
“Coming,” I called, reaching for Goofey.
“May I keep him?” Paula pleaded. “Just for a couple of days? I promise to take good care of him.”
“You can visit him whenever you want to,” Kayla added.
“Please say yes,” Paula begged, her violet eyelids blinking at me pitifully.
The driver waited. Passengers jostled grocery bags, young children, and packages. Their faces spelled impatience.
“Okay…uh, I guess,” I said.
Before the bus doors swooshed shut behind me, I heard Paula say, “I’ll call you, Holly.”
Oh, fabulous.
Talking on the phone with Paula Miller or her look-alike twin was the last thing I wanted to do. I watched sadly as the bus made its turn onto Aspen Street, carrying with it my little Goofey—in the arms of the enemy.
After supper I made a big deal in my journal about losing Goofey.
Saturday, February 5: My poor little Goofey is being cared for, right this minute, by strangers. It wouldn’t be so bad, but I refuse to set foot in Paula and Kayla Miller’s house. And that’s where my Goofey is, at least for now. Hopefully I’ll persuade Andie to change her mind.
Christiana Somebody from Austria is coming to stay with Andie and her family next week. I wonder how it’ll work out.
Not every girl is lucky enough to have a Valentine birthday. Daddy always said it meant I was extra special. That’s why Mom nicknamed me Holly-Heart. Without Andie, though, the party’s a flop.
I closed my journal and sighedGoofey was gone, and I missed him. Who knows how he was doing, poor, homesick thing. Of course, I could find out in a flash, but it would mean calling Paula Miller. No way.
Curling up on my bed, I stared at my lavender and white bedroom—private domain regained. It felt good having my room all to myself again, without the super snoopers, Carrie and Stephie. The two of them were roommates now, down the hall.
My sister had reclaimed her old room, the one she’d had before Uncle Jack married Mom. It was great to have Phil and Mark off the second floor and in the new addition at the back of the house. Stan, the oldest of our tribe, took the other bedroom in the addition, vacating the family room. It was a good thing, too. I was tired of having to miss good TV shows just so Stan could pull his bed out of the sofa and lounge around watching John Wayne videos—his current obsession.
Br-ring! I dashed to the hall, reaching for the phone on the second ring. Too late. Picking it up, I recognized Andie’s voice on the line. No doubt she’d called to talk to Stan. They actually liked each other. Mind-boggling.
“Did Holly find a home for Goofey yet?” she asked Stan as I listened.
Dying to hear what he would say, I continued to eavesdrop. “Haven’t seen much of Holly today,” Stan said. “And…who’s Goofey?”
Andie laughed.
I wasn’t surprised at Stan’s remark. He’d never liked Goofey. But it didn’t matter. He and I just so happened to be getting along better than ever. I decided to let it go. This time.
Afraid they might hear me breathing, I hung up the phone.
Mom came upstairs just then, dressed in a blue wool sweater, her blond hair pulled back in a gold barrette. “Holly, let’s talk.” She motioned to my room.
Settling on my bed, she said, “It’s almost party time for my birthday girl.”
I smoothed the quilt. “Yeah, it’s countdown to nothing much.”
“What about the make-over party we planned? Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”
“Who cares,” I grumbled.
“But Jack and I—”
“Please don’t make plans behind my back,” I snapped. “Honestly, I feel like calling the whole birthday thing off.”
“Holly-Heart,” she protested, “what’s happened?”
I got up and wandered across the room. Without looking at her, I blurted, “Andie won’t be coming.”
“Well, why not?”
“She has plans. With Christiana of Austria.” I grabbed Bearie-O, Andie’s teddy bear, off the shelf. Hugging him, I told Mom about Andie’s pen pal and the exchange they’d planned.
“Does this mean Andie will go to Austria next summer?”
I hadn’t thought of that. Andie was probably holding out that tidbit of information for a later date. Unpredictable Andie, always full of surprises! Not always happy ones, either.
“It’s not easy having a best friend who can’t even tell you the important stuff ahead of time.” I squeezed the stuffed bear extra hard.
Mom came over and sat near me on the window seat. “This has you very upset, Holly. If you’d like, we could arrange to have the party on Monday, your actual birthday.” She sighed. “Could Andie come then?”
“She’ll be up to her eyeballs introducing Christiana to Dressel Hills by that time,” I responded. “I can see it now—”
Mom interrupted. “Holly-Heart, I don’t like the sound of this. I think you’re jealous.”
“Isn’t that a shame,” I said sarcastically. “And I haven’t even met Andie’s friend yet.”
Mom stood up. “Be careful you don’t let these feelings come between you and Andie. It would be a sad thing for a lifelong friendship to be marred by your bad attitude.”
Mom’s lecture bored me. I knew all that stuff. What I didn’t know was how I could possibly fit in with Andie when Christiana arrived.
As far as I was concerned, second best might as well be zero!
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
Chapter 4
Sunday morning I slept in longer than I should have. Through a sleepy haze, I rubbed my eyes. Bearie-O, the droopy-eyed teddy bear Andie had traded for mine in first grade, stared down at me from the shelf near my window seat. Since Goofey was gone, I’d have to revert back to my childhood and sleep with Bearie-O. It was an option, at least.
Getting up, I hurried for the shower. On the way, I noticed Mom’s bedroom door open. For a moment I stood, listening. It was unmistakable. Classical music wafted down the hall, interspersed with the clinking of fine silver against china. Could it be?
I strained to listen, inching my way down the hallway. Mixed with the music was soft laughter. Uncle Jack was serving Mom breakfast in bed!
How romantic, I thought, making my way to the bathroom. Someday…
I allowed my mind to wander as I lathered up in the shower. Jared Wilkins, the first real crush of my life, instantly came to mind. Though hundreds of miles distanced us, I thought of someone else, too—Sean Hamilton. Sean lived in Southern California, just down the beach from Daddy.
Sometimes I regretted not meeting him on Christmas Eve for a walk on the seashore. Now I would never know if he hoped we might someday be more than friends.
My dad was probably right. “Develop lots of friendships with guys,” he’d said when I visited at Christmas. “There’s plenty of time for romance later.”
Andie didn’t agree when I told her about my talk with Daddy at Christmas. “What’s wrong with a little mushy stuff?” she’d said, laughing. Andie’s parents didn’t seem to be as strict as mine.
I grabbed a towel and hopped out of the shower. My thoughts went back to Sean and the moonlit walk I’d missed. Daydreaming about the possibilities, I didn’t hear the knock on my door.
“Holly, I have to go. Hurry up!” It was Carrie.
“Okay, okay.” I reached for my robe. Little sisters!
As was our custom since Uncle Jack married Mom, we at
tended the early service at church on Sundays. Today I asked permission to sit with Andie. Usually, all eight of us filled up one long pew. Mom liked it that way: family togetherness in worship. But I needed space.
Sitting next to Andie and her entire family, I sensed something was wrong. I could feel the tension. And she seemed preoccupied, probably with her pen pal’s arrival.
“A cat like Goofey would make a fabulous contribution to Christiana’s stay in America,” I whispered in her ear, then reached for the hymnal.
She fluffed her short, springy curls. “I know you love your pet, Holly,” she said, “but why don’t you let Paula adopt him?”
Paula? How does she know?
“Would you want someone you love spending day in and day out at the Miller residence?” I whispered.
She shrugged halfheartedly, like she wasn’t really listening.
I couldn’t talk about how I disliked the Miller twins—not in church, of all places. So I sat there fuming about everything imaginable. Goofey staying at Paula’s…and Miss Christiana So-and-So living at Andie’s!
Jared waited for me in the church aisle after the benediction. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his eyes lit up when he saw me. “Hey, Holly. You look great today.”
I blushed. “Thanks.” He looked fine himself, wearing a blue cotton shirt and khakis.
“Coming to youth service Thursday?” he asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I couldn’t help grinning. Jared was so easy to be around. Then an idea struck me. “Uh, Jared,” I said hesitantly, “how would you like to adopt my cat?”
Jared scratched his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I have a problem…with cats,” he admitted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I felt rejected. “Cats are fabulous, I told him. “I’d have a dozen of them if I could.”
He smiled that adorable smile, but it didn’t do a thing for me. Not today. “I’m a dog person,” he said proudly.
His comment ticked me off. “Can’t you at least keep Goofey for a little while?” I pleaded. “It’ll buy me some time.”
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