Holly's Heart Collection Two

by Beverly Lewis

  I made a cut-throat gesture for her to stop talking. Paula had not been invited to my party. This could be embarrassing.

  Andie glanced down awkwardly, playing with her napkin. Then she said, “I’ve gotta run. Stan has a book he bought in Germany last summer. I’m supposed to meet him at his locker. See ya.”

  I knew by the look on her face she wasn’t coming to my party no matter when I was having it. I just hoped Paula hadn’t heard. She was the last person I wanted hanging around.

  Now…what to do about Goofey? There was no changing Andie’s mind. That was obvious. She seemed determined not to have anything to do with my cat. On the other hand, here was Paula, a girl who loved him almost as much as I did.

  I needed some time to think. What I really needed was a backup plan. So I mentioned my preliminary idea to Paula, who was finishing her lunch. “Do you think you could keep Goofey for a few more days?”

  Her face broke into a grin. “Do you mean it?”

  You would’ve thought she’d just won a shopping spree.

  “Only a few more days,” I said, “till I can work something out.”

  She sighed. “Oh my! How can I ever thank you, Holly?”

  “I’ll think of a way,” I said a bit too sarcastically.

  Jared showed up just then, and Paula excused herself promptly. Strange. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought Paula was trying to avoid Jared. How weird was that?

  “Heard you have a cat for sale,” Jared said, sitting beside me.

  I bristled at his remark. “I would never part with Goofey for money,” I declared. “I couldn’t possibly put a price tag on him.”

  “You’re one loyal and dedicated owner.” He smeared mustard, ketchup, and mayonnaise all over his hot dog. “Paula seems to love him, too,” he said. “Why don’t you let her keep him?”

  “Never in a zillion years,” I said.

  Jared shot me a surprised look. I didn’t want to explain why I disliked Paula, so I made a point of looking at my watch.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked.

  “I need to pick up some library books before my next class. Wanna come?”

  He held up his hot dog. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Okay. See ya.” I rushed off to the library, hoping to find a book on Austria. Then just maybe I could get Andie’s attention. Finally!

  SECOND-BEST FRIEND

  Chapter 7

  Paula called after school. “Something’s wrong with Goofey,” she said, her voice quivering.

  I gripped the phone. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s acting very strange,” she answered. “He won’t eat, and he’s throwing up. I called the vet.”

  “What did the vet say?” I tugged on my hair nervously.

  “He said to bring him into the animal clinic right away.”

  “Thanks for telling me, Paula. I’ll get Mom to drive me. I’ll meet you there.” I hung up the phone, trembling as I dashed down the steps to the main level.

  What had Paula done to my precious kitty?

  “Mom!” I called.

  No answer.

  “Where is she?” I said through clenched teeth, disgusted at her lack of immediate response. “Mom!” I called again. Louder this time.

  Carrie and Stephie came running upstairs. “Mom’s gone,” Stephie said.

  “Yeah, she left a while ago,” Carrie informed me.

  “Just great,” I muttered, wishing the city bus route went as far as the vet’s. What could I do?

  The TV blared in the family room downstairs. Maybe Mark knew something. I dashed down another flight of stairs. Carrie and Stephie followed. “When’s your dad coming home?” I asked Mark.

  “How should I know?” he blurted, making one of his disgusting alien faces at me. Stephie giggled.

  “Doesn’t anybody know anything around here?” I shrieked, growing more irritated by the second. “Goofey’s in trouble, and I have to see him before—”

  “Before what?” Carrie asked, her eyes ready to pop.

  “He’s sick, really sick, and I have to get to the vet’s. Goofey will be scared if I’m not there,” I said, tears blurring my vision.

  “Is…is he gonna die?” Stephie cried.

  A hideous thought. One I couldn’t bear to face. “I hope not,” I answered.

  Running upstairs to the kitchen, I reached for the portable phone. Maybe Andie’s mom could drive me across town.

  Andie answered on the first ring.

  “Is your mom home?” I asked.

  “She’s out buying groceries for next weekend when Christiana comes,” she said.

  “Oh, I just thought maybe she could drive me somewhere. Goofey’s real sick…at the vet’s. I need to get there somehow.”

  “What about your mom? Can’t she drive you?”

  “Mom’s gone. I wish I could drive!” It looked hopeless for transportation. And Goofey needed me. No one else could give him the kind of love and attention he needed now.

  “Sorry, Holly. Wish I could help,” she said.

  “I’ll work something out.” I said good-bye and hung up.

  In desperation I grabbed the phone book and called a cab. It would probably eat up every dime of my mission project, but it was well worth it to be with Goofey.

  I dashed back to the family room, informing Mark and the girls where I was headed.

  “Mommy won’t be happy about this,” Carrie said. “You’re supposed to be in charge of us while she’s gone.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mark said, “I’ll make sure nothing bad happens.

  I eyed him. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “We’ll sit right here and watch Mark make alien faces till Mommy comes home,” Stephie said. “We promise.”

  Mark started his gross facial repertoire.

  “You’re hopeless,” I said, turning toward the stairs.

  The cab pulled into the driveway just as I stepped onto the porch. I hurried to get in.

  Rush-hour traffic was appalling in a ski resort in winter. We weaved in and out of traffic on Aspen Street. Afternoon skiers were coming off the slopes in droves. The latest snowfall provided the perfect conditions—packed powder.

  “Can you go a different way?” I pleaded with the driver.

  “We’re almost out of the worst,” he said. “What’s your hurry?”

  I told him about Goofey.

  “Maybe he caught a simple flu bug,” the cabbie offered.

  “Flu can be deadly for a cat as old as Goofey,” I said, praying silently.

  When we arrived at the vet’s, I paid the cab fare and made my way up the snowy steps to the animal clinic. Inside, Paula sat on the edge of her chair.

  “Where’s Goofey?” I asked.

  “The vet took him in there.” She pointed to a door across from us. I noticed her eyes glistening.

  I didn’t wait to hear more. Making a beeline for the door, I darted inside, looking for my cat.

  “May I help you, dear?” It was the vet’s assistant, peering over the top of her granny glasses. She was filling out some papers. I saw “Goofey Meredith” written at the top of one of them.

  “I’m Holly Meredith,” I replied. “Goofey belongs to me.”

  Slowly, she removed her glasses. “Please sit down.” She motioned to a vacant chair.

  A giant lump crowded my throat. I could almost predict what she would say. Goofey is dying. It will be a slow, painful death, unless…No! No way would I let them put my darling Goofey to sleep.

  I studied the woman momentarily, then blurted, “What’s wrong with my cat?”

  The woman smiled sweetly. “We’re doing everything possible for him,” she said. “He has a severe intestinal problem, caused by ingesting large amounts of soap. Actually, bubble bath.”

  I took a deep breath. Paula was responsible for poisoning my cat! Wanting to scream, I managed to force polite words out of my mouth. “May I see Goofey now?”

  “Certainly.”
The assistant led me into another room. She explained that the technician was giving Goofey liquid charcoal to absorb the soap in his stomach. I watched, willing the tears back, trying to focus my eyes on Goofey.

  “We’ll have to keep your cat for several days,” the technician said.

  “What for?” I asked.

  “We’ll put a tube down his stomach for starters, and after a while he should be as good as new. But you’ll have to help us,” he said, smiling.

  “I’ll do anything,” I said, inching closer to the gray form lying deathly still on the table.

  “You’ll have to monitor his eating and drinking habits for a week after we release him. I’ll give you a prescription for Goofey—fifty milligrams of Amoxicillin, twice a day. In addition to that, he’ll need an anti-inflammatory to make sure the liquid charcoal doesn’t irritate his stomach.” He stood up and walked me to the door. “I’ll make a list of things for you to follow.”

  “Thank you very much for saving Goofey’s life,” I said, following him to the waiting area.

  “Well, you can be sure we’ll give him the best of care,” he said. “But when he’s released, it would be a good idea if Goofey returns to his home.” He glanced at Paula just then. “He’ll get well much more quickly if he’s surrounded by those he’s accustomed to.”

  Another lump swelled in my throat. This was turning into a nightmare.

  After the vet left, I glared at Paula. “Thanks for trying to kill my cat,” I whispered.

  Paula wiped a tear. “I never thought…it’s just so awful…I’m truly sorry, Holly. I really am.”

  I couldn’t stand her blubbering. I turned to the receptionist’s desk. “May I use your phone, please?” I asked.

  The phone rang twice before Uncle Jack answered. “I’ll be right there,” he said after I told him my dilemma.

  Thanking the receptionist for the use of her phone, I turned around. Paula was gone. She’s out of here for good, I thought, seething silently as I waited for Uncle Jack.

  Then I heard a familiar cooing sound coming from the open door. I stood up. Yep, it was Paula’s voice all right. Who could mistake it?

  Moving closer, I peeked around the doorway and saw Paula standing near my cat, stroking him. Furious, I headed down the hall toward her. “Don’t touch my cat!” I said.

  Paula jumped. “But I had to say good-bye to Goofey,” she sputtered, eyes a-flutter.

  “Well, you said it, now disappear.”

  She looked at me sorrowfully. “Oh, Holly, please forgive me. I wouldn’t hurt Goofey for anything.”

  “Well, you did, and it can’t be changed.” The angry words surprised me as they tumbled out.

  Paula rushed past me, sobbing.

  I said my good-byes to Goofey in private. His fur smelled of roses, the scent that Paula had been smothering him with every day. He didn’t move, or purr, or anything. His eyes were glazed over, unseeing.

  “Please get well,” I whispered, touching his tattered ear. “I can’t live without you.”

  SECOND-BEST FRIEND

  Chapter 8

  Settling into the bucket seat of Uncle Jack’s van, I thanked him for picking me up.

  He apologized all over the place about what had happened. “I’m sorry it had to be my allergies that sent Goofey away.”

  I wouldn’t let him take the blame. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t help it.”

  He offered to pay for the entire bill. “Don’t worry another second about this, Holly,” he said. “That’s what stepdads are for, right?” He grinned at me.

  “Thanks,” I said, still unsettled about what to do when Goofey was well enough to come home. If only Andie would agree to keep him, the problem would be solved.

  After supper, Mom and Uncle Jack went to Bible study. I spent the evening doing pre-algebra with Stan. He assisted me, with occasional comments from “John Wayne.”

  When the phone rang, I hoped it was Andie, not Paula.

  I got my wish.

  “Hey,” Andie said. “What’re you doing Friday night?”

  “Nothing much,” I replied.

  “C’mon, Holly, you sound morbid,” she scolded. “You’ll have a very cool make-over party.”

  “Don’t rub it in.” I felt a sickening lump in the pit of my stomach. She was ruining everything by not coming.

  “Relax,” Andie said in her quirkiest voice. “I’m still invited, right?”

  I almost dropped the phone. “What are you saying?”

  “Christiana’s arriving earlier than we thought. We’re picking her up on Friday morning.”

  “So you can come?”

  “I’ll come if Christiana’s invited, too.” It was more of a question than a statement.

  “Do you think, I mean, will she be comfortable attending a stranger’s birthday party on her first night in America?” I asked.

  “Oh sure,” Andie said. “She’ll have a great time meeting you and Amy-Liz. Who else is invited?”

  “Joy and Shauna are coming…and that’s it,” I said, thinking about Paula Miller, who didn’t even know about the party. No way was the cat killer invited.

  “That’s six of us,” she said. “It’s best to have an even number at parties, my mom always says. That way no one feels left out.”

  I laughed. “My mom says the same thing.”

  “Should we bring anything?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll have everything we need here.”

  “I’ll bring my new cucumber mask,” she said. “You have to try it. It’s organic and so earthy.”

  “I can’t wait, now that you’re coming. And guess what? Mom’s hired a beautician for the party. We’ll have our hair restyled after we experiment with makeup. Cool, huh?”

  “Great! I want my hair straightened for a change,” she said, laughing. “What about you? Gonna get your hair chopped?”

  “Styled,” I said. “Not cut.”

  “I’ve never seen you with short hair,” she said. “Bet you’d look cute.”

  Here we were having this fabulous conversation, and she had to bring that up. She knew better. Never in a zillion years would I cut my hair.

  “How long is Christiana’s hair?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “A little longer than chin length, according to her pictures. It’s close to your hair color, Holly.”

  So that’s why she mentioned getting my hair cut. She was thinking of her pen pal. Again.

  “Guess what happened today?” I said.

  “Something about your cat?” she asked casually.

  “Yeah, Paula tried to kill him!”

  “And you’re upset.”

  “Upset, nothing. I’m furious at Paula. It’s her fault.”

  “What actually happened?” Andie was all ears.

  I told her about the daily bubble baths, how Goofey had swallowed lots of the soap, making him sick.

  “Never heard of giving a cat a bath,” she said. “Don’t they lick themselves clean?”

  “Of course. Anybody knows that.”

  “Well, Paula’s different, you know.”

  “No kidding,” I said, the anger boiling up again.

  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve gotta get my room ready for Christiana.”

  “Okay, see you.”

  I hung up, feeling both happy and worried. Andie would be at my party, but so would a complete stranger. One that I’d already decided to dislike.

  Suddenly a new thought struck me. What if Christiana doesn’t like me?

  Thursday after school, Mom drove me to see Goofey while Stan kept an eye on the other kids. Andie rode along, sitting in back with me.

  “What’ll happen to Goofey when he’s released from the clinic?” she asked. “Who will take care of him then?”

  I glanced at Mom. “Good question,” I said, wishing I could persuade Andie to adopt him. “There’s no way I want Paula getting close to him again.”

  “What’s
so bad about Paula?” Mom asked.

  “Just because she’s rich and gorgeous doesn’t mean she can take care of cats,” I mumbled.

  “Now, Holly, please don’t hold this against her,” Mom said as she pulled into the parking lot behind the clinic.

  Andie elbowed me in the ribs.

  “Coming in?” I asked, unlocking the car door.

  “You betcha,” Andie said.

  Mom waved as we headed inside.

  Goofey had a tube in his stomach, so he couldn’t have visitors. Besides, the technician probably didn’t want to gross us out. “Your friend was here today,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Your friend Paula Miller. She came around lunchtime.”

  What gall! It made me madder than ever. But I covered it well. “Make sure you tell Goofey I love him,” I said. “Say my name in his ear three times every hour.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “No problem,” he said with a grin.

  “You’re crazy, Holly,” Andie said on the way back to the car.

  “So what? Doctors prescribe medicine in double and triple doses, don’t they?”

  She opened the car door. “Cats don’t understand English, do they?”

  I waited for her to slide in before I climbed into the back. “They’re smarter than you think.” I wanted to say, Why don’t you adopt Goofey and find out? But I bit my tongue and decided I’d pray for an adoptive parent for him instead.

  After supper, Stan and I headed off to church with Uncle Jack. When we arrived, Paula and Kayla were walking up the steps. “Go with me to the side door,” I pleaded to Stan.

  He frowned and turned on his John Wayne charm. “What’s the matter, little sister?”

  “Paula’s pathetic,” I muttered.

  “Now, there’s an interesting Christian attitude.” He held the door as I trudged inside.

  “If I never see Paula’s face again, I’ll be thrilled,” I said.

  And then…around the corner she appeared. “I have to talk to you, Holly,” she said, reaching for my arm.

  I backed away, ready to do battle.

  Then Stan stepped in front of me. John Wayne’s voice rang through the hall. “Listen here, pilgrim. This here’s the sanctuary of God. I’d suggest you take your fight outside.” He took Paula’s arm by the elbow, guiding her away from my wrath. She looked up at him, smiling with all her teeth. “Well, missy, looks like I saved your hide,” Stan said as they strolled down the hall.