LITTLE BROTHER
Within a few weeks, Campbell’s pregnancy was obvious. And still, nobody had said anything definite about where a nursery would be—or anything else. It was becoming absurd, Meredith thought. Their mom had begun leaving the top buttons open on her jeans a few weeks before and was wearing Tim’s worn-out dress shirts at home. If it’s up to her,Merry thought, she’ll tell us when she’s on the way to the hospital!
On the first morning of Christmas break, Coach was sick and there was no practice. Merry sat down beside Campbell in the kitchen. Campbell glanced up over the tops of her rimless reading glasses and smiled.
“Why are you staring?” she asked.
“Can you feel it yet?” Merry asked.
“I can, but you won’t be able to for another month or more,” Campbell said. “So why didn’t you just say something if you knew? All you do is stare.”
Unnoticed, Mallory slipped into the kitchen and began lacing up her running shoes. She hadn’t done her run in a few days, couldn’t sleep or eat, and thought she might be losing her mind. She barely noticed her mother and sister.
“I’m staring at you because I want to say something and I don’t want you to kill me,” said Meredith.
“Merry Heart, other than telling me that you’re pregnant too, there’s not much you could say that would make me go savage when I’m sitting here eating cinnamon toast.”
“So it’s okay to mention that you’re . . . you know, pregnant.”
“Yes, it’s okay. I am . . . you know, pregnant. And when we have a baby, we won’t have to keep him inside so that people won’t realize he’s around.” Campbell put down the book she’d been reading. “I know I’m old to have a baby. That’s why I’ve been uncomfortable talking about it. I was very afraid I’d lose the baby. It’s stupid, but it seemed easier not to talk about it if there was that risk.”
“Mom,” Merry said then. “The problem is, I don’t think you thought this through. When this baby is thirty, you’ll be seventy-three.”
“Geez,” said Campbell. “I really hadn’t thought of that. I guess we’ll have to give him up. Or . . . wait! You can raise him.”
“I’m serious, Mom,” Merry said.
“I’m serious too, Meredith. If my doctor didn’t think I could do this, I wouldn’t do this. And by the way, both of you, Mallory too, can you tell me how old Grandma Gwen is?”
“She’s, um, seventy-six,” said Mallory.
“And how old is your dad’s sister, Aunt Jenny?”
“She’s thirty . . . I don’t know. She’s thirty or so,” Mallory said, sitting down with a weary thump and pulling on her hoodie.
“She’s thirty-five. Twelve years younger than your dad. She just got married last fall, and she’s having a baby next spring too. How old was your grandmother when Aunt Jenny was born?”
“I never thought about that,” Mally admitted. “Grandma would have been past forty when Aunt Jenny was born.”
“So, see? There was another case like this in national history.”
“What are we going to name him?”
“Arness.”
“NO!” the girls shouted at her.
Merry ventured, “That’s stupid. How about a nice name? Like Justin?”
“Every second kid is named Justin. How about Sascha?”
“How about fruitcake?” Mallory asked. “Just think of a normal name.”
Meaningfully, then, Mallory turned to Merry. “Hey. Let’s not tire Mom out. You don’t have practice. Let’s go for a run.”
“I’m slobbing,” Merry said.
“You don’t want to miss a day, oh Varsity Queen. Let’s go for a run.”
“Ask Drew.”
“I’m asking you! We need to run over to Grandma’s and pick some stuff up!”
“What stuff?” Merry asked. “Plus, Grandma’s is four miles one way! It’s thirty-five degrees outside and it’s gonna snow!”
With a tiny fist, Mallory popped Merry on the arm. “Come on, cheerleaders-are-athletes! Let’s go get dressed!”
“Okay, okay!” Merry rubbed her arm. She shot off to grab her sweats, knowing by then that there was more that Mallory needed than a running partner. But not to give up too easily, she called back over her shoulder, “Mom! You should give Mal some of that moisturizer! Her chin’s dry!”
Mallory immediately covered her chin.
“I know what makes a chin look like that, Mal-o-mar,” Campbell said placidly.
Yikes! Mallory had put on a gob of moisturizer and some of Merry’s corpse concealer too!
“Who’s the boy?”
“Mom, it’s not a boyfriend.”
“Then why are you kissing him? You’re not even fourteen.”
“In a week, Mom!”
“Almost two weeks. And you’re so, so not allowed to date.”
“It’s Eden’s brother. He goes to Boston Flanders. He got a scholarship for Latin.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s sixteen. Just turned. He’s a sophomore.”
“Okay,” Campbell said. “I’m still not on board. You can just get some cereal or a piece of cornbread, missy, before you go running. You’re getting too thin. I told you that before Thanksgiving. And you haven’t listened.”
“I’m just changing, Mom.”
“I’ll say. I saw you changing your clothes into that nifty black-and-burgundy sweater before you went out with Eden the other night. Was that boy along?”
“Cooper, Mom. And yes. With about sixteen little sisters and cousins.”
Cooper was home for Christmas too—until January 7—because private schools gave longer breaks. Although Mally had seen him only a couple of times, there was enough electricity between them to power all the lights on the square. When Mally went with him and Eden and their older sister Bly to take all the little Cardinal kids to a Disney movie, she and Cooper slipped out for popcorn and slipped back into two seats apart from the group. Once again, Mallory went home with her chin the same shade of pink as her lips.
“Groups are okay,” Campbell said. “It wasn’t more than kissing, was it?”
“No!” Mallory yelled, feeling like she was lying, because Cooper had stroked her neck and back and pressed her close to him in a way that felt wrong but also good and was, Mally knew, not really anything out of bounds—but which she also could not stop thinking about. “No way! Can’t I have a crush like a normal human being? Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“Actually, I do,” Campbell said. “And if he’s like Eden, he’s probably a good boy. And when you’re fifteen, he won’t be too old for you. It’s tough to be younger than the other ones in your grade. And younger than you want to be.”
“I’m not. Not really,” Mallory said. “Just . . . for this.”
“Well, just watch it, Mallory. Emotions run right over your brains.”
“I know, Mom,” Mallory said. “I really know. My head is spinning.”
“Everyone’s head spins. He’s a good-looking boy. A real barn burner. Keep your feet on the ground.”
“Why did you ask me if you already knew? When did you see Cooper?”
“I get around. I saw him in the stands last fall when Eden played. Before Halloween. Very handsome.”
“Oh. God. Okay.”
They both stopped to laugh at the sound of Merry muttering as she searched the wreck of a closet for two gloves that matched a hat to pull on. The run would put her in a better mood. There was a crash as Merry muttered that she’d finally located her lost water bottles and belt clips.
Campbell kissed Mallory on both cheeks. “Do you hate me about the baby too?”
“Hate you? We don’t hate you. We were just scared it was too much for you. We’re too much for you.”
“No, you’re not,” Campbell said. “Kids! You have to feel guilty about everything. Go on and run. Decide what you want to do for your birthday. I have an idea, but you might think it’s stupid.”
“Try me.�
�
“Come on!” Merry shouted from the hall.
“I’m coming!” Mally called back. “What, Mom?”
“If it snows, how about a sleigh ride? A big sleigh that holds maybe sixteen people? And a team?”
“Okay, we’ll use our team of horses.”
“Actually, it was Julie Barnes’s brother who got stitched up at the ER last month. She was so glad we got to him before her kid got hurt, she came in and suggested we could use hers anytime. She owns the big natural garden store and pumpkin patch out by Deptford? And then maybe we’ll have some chili and stuff out there in the garage and some music, and you can have a few more people over. Not like last year.”
“Please not like last year!”
“But a few. How’s that?”
“That would really actually be kind of . . .”
“Romantic,” said Campbell.
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Mallory said.
“You were too.”
Mally asked, “Mom, what are you . . . psychic?”
UNDER A WING
You’re too thin, Mallory,” Grandma Gwenny said, once they’d peeled off their layers. “Let me get you something to eat.”
“We just ran four miles, Grandma,” Mallory said. “If I eat now, I’ll puke.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“She’s in love,” Merry said maliciously.
“I’m not in love!” Mallory snapped. She punched Merry again.
“She’s so in love, and if you hit me once more, I’ll kick you until you can’t walk. These legs are lethal weapons.”
“Your mouth is a lethal weapon,” Mallory answered, but then softened. “Did you hear Mom’s idea for our party?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you like it, Ster?”
“I thought it was dumb and babyish. Other than that, it’s okay.”
“A sleigh ride sounds nice,” Mallory said, picturing herself tucked in a big robe with Cooper’s arm around her. It would be a group, after all. But maybe Mom was so right. What would Cooper see in a fourteen-year-old? Cooper could have any girl he wanted. “And food and a party afterward.”
“It sounds nice to you because you are an unsophisticated person,” Merry said.
“It sounds dumb to you because you don’t even have a pretend boyfriend.”
“Only because I want it that way.”
“Only because most people think cheerleaders are bizarre.”
Grandma returned with steaming slices of apple crisp, folded on a tray, with a small dish of pure maple sugar next to each one. She’d laid cloth napkins under the plates so they’d be warm. Grandma always did everything right, not slap dash. She dressed up for her food-delivery runs to “senior citizens,” because she said her cheerful appearance was part of the good of the experience for her clients. So when she frowned at them, the twins went silent.
“Girls!” Grandma Gwenny said. “You never argue this way.”
“We do now!” Merry told her, and Mallory realized that it was true. Since she’d been keeping secrets, they had been fighting more—more than the constant teasing that was a pleasure to both of them.
“I don’t want to fight, really fight, Mer,” Mally said. “But I’m in a bad way. I have stuff I need to talk over. I can’t keep it to myself anymore. It’s serious.”
“What?” Merry asked, genuinely concerned.
“What if your best friend was in true trouble, and there was nothing you could do about it? Nothing?” Mallory asked.
“What if your best friend was in true trouble, and there was nothing you could do about it?” Merry replied.
“I’m talking about Eden.”
“I’m talking about Kim.”
And then they spilled the secrets: Kim’s dangerous friends and her drinking, her horrible sabotage of Crystal and possibly Merry, her sadness as deep as a well. Meredith’s eyes widened as she listened to the truth about Eden and the lion. But she wasn’t truly shocked. “A part of me knew it wasn’t a symbol,” she said. “But I couldn’t bear knowing the truth. And as for her being . . . like us, I’ve known that for a long time.” She got up from the bench on the opposite side of Grandma’s neat, planked Amish table and sat down next to Mallory on her bench.
“And I can’t stand that Kim did this to Crystal. I know we should tell the police,” Mallory said.
Grandma said, “Would Kimberly end up in a juvenile facility? Would that make her better or make her worse?”
All three of them sat silently. Then Grandma Gwenny got up and cut two more slices of the apple crisp.
“So, say we try to work with Kim?” Mallory answered. “What happens to Eden? I can beg her and I can keep the secret, but I can’t really influence her.”
“Can you really influence anyone?” Grandma asked.
“But what if she gets truly hurt? What if she hurts people?” Mallory asked, devouring her second piece in the safety of her grandmother’s kitchen—where neither romance nor pain could intrude—and reaching for Merry’s unfinished crust.
“We were responsible for a death,” Merry said. “And if people knew all about David and us, we would be treated like the village crazies.”
“Anno,” Mallory said, taking Merry’s hand, using the twin language that meant she understood. “I’m sorry you had to keep this inside.”
“I’m sorry for you. And remember, Eden is my friend too.”
“And Kim’s mine. Not like you, but we have a long history.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t feel safe telling you about Kim. Or asking about Edie. I guess it makes it real. I didn’t dream the connection, but I knew.”
“We’re getting used to who we are, and what we are, and it just flows in, I guess. Maybe it won’t always be in dreams,” Mally suggested. “It would be better if I didn’t have to black out, or at least so people noticed. Did you black out, Grandma?” Their grandmother shook her head.
Merry asked Mallory, “Are you getting used to it?”
“I was before . . . this, with Eden. Every time I think I can handle it and live with it, it raises the stakes,” Mallory said.
“Why doesn’t Eden hide in her yard? I guess that’s obvious. She’d scare all those little kids.”
“Not all those kids even know about her. But I don’t think she meant to hurt the hunter. He shot at her!” said Mallory. “But then, who wouldn’t shoot at a white mountain lion up here? Let’s assume all I can do for Eden is talk and hope and pray. What can we do for Kim?”
“I felt terrible when I lied and told her that there were surveillance cameras in the suiting-up area. But she already had a guilty conscience. That’s why she quit. She didn’t say why she simply had to make varsity this year. She just said she had to. And then she quit.”
They both looked at Gwenny.
“If we can’t say what we know to someone, what do we say?” Merry asked.
“I don’t think it makes anything worse to talk about it,” Grandma Gwenny said. “Don’t you think Kim’s probably expecting you to ask? Don’t you think Eden is expecting you to ask, Mallory, after the incident?”
The twins nodded.
“I could go to the Jellicos. But I’m so scared to do that, Grandma. Like maybe I’ll see him. Can there be angry ghosts?” Grandma looked away. Merry knew that meant it was indeed possible. “If he died not knowing what happened? All I saw was this flash of white, and now, of course . . .”
“You know what that was,” Mallory said. “That’s why you saw her following me, when you were at Neely’s. She wouldn’t have let David hurt you.”
“So Eden saved my life. Is she coming to our party?”
“Of course,” Mally said.
“I want to thank her for what she did for me.”
“She already knows. And she’s pretty shy.”
“Okay,” Merry said quietly. “Well, I’m going to go see Kim tonight. I have an idea, but Coach might not go for it. Let’s get running.”
�
��Oh,” Grandma Gwenny said, “I think you’re going to need to ski.”
The girls glanced outside. The snow was already more than four inches deep.
“Let’s get you home. The big car has good snow tires,” Grandma said.
“Aren’t you scared to drive in the snow?” Merry asked. “Because most . . .”
“Most old ladies are?”
“Grandma, you aren’t old!” Merry said, blushing and hugging Gwenny. “You have a daughter who’s only thirty-five! You were a mother when you were over forty.”
“Well, I’m not the only one,” Grandma said. “Isn’t it wonderful? A little boy? She’s thinking of naming him Arness, after her family, but Arnie isn’t that modern a nickname. I’ll bet she names him Owen Campbell. I know she likes the name Owen.”
“When did Mom tell you?” Mally asked, as they got into Grandma’s compact little SUV, the one Grandpa called her “Plant-mobile.”
“She only really told us today,” added Merry.
Gwenny smiled. “She didn’t tell me, of course. You know what I see. Healthy babies in the future. My poor sister was seeing the babies who wouldn’t live, seeing all the deaths.”
“So the baby will be fine? Mom will be fine?” Merry asked eagerly.
“Why, yes,” Gwenny said. “Whatever did you think?”
SONG OF JOY, SONG OF SORROW
On the night of her Christmas concert, Mallory glanced out her bedroom window and saw that snow was falling. She sighed. It had been the only thing lacking. Now the night would be perfect.
She’d spent a full half hour getting dressed. Cooper was coming, and Mally hadn’t quite worked up the courage to ask him to her party. But this night, this magical night of music and soft wintry welcoming, she planned to invite him.
Miss Yancy insisted each girl wear black and white.
So Mallory wore her new long black velvet skirt, Campbell’s white satin shirt, and a shrug sweater she had found just hours before. It turned up in a package left on the porch.
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