by Niki Lenz
The noodle feeling in my guts melted and for the first time in a long while I felt light, like maybe I had springs in my shoes. I think the feeling was hope. “Let’s work together!” I nodded. “Miss O’Connor is about to be smothered with a whole pan of Team Gravy. She won’t even know what hit her.”
* * *
I cornered Bea the next Monday in the hallway at school. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she said, but she didn’t stop walking.
“Hold up for a second,” I said.
“I’m still grounded. My mom said she was very disappointed in me when she got that call from your dad!” Bea’s glare could have cut glass.
“I am so sorry about that. You were right. It was my idea, and I am always getting you into trouble.”
Bea sniffed. “You do come up with some doozies.”
“And you’re always there to try and make me see reason! Imagine if I’d actually tried to tie my dad and Miss O’Connor together like I suggested!”
Bea laughed. “Yeah, that would have been worse.”
“I make you do exciting and scary things, and you make me think things through and use my head. We make an excellent team,” I said.
Bea’s mouth screwed into a stifled grin. “Too bad you didn’t have my voice of reason to talk you out of stealing the church van…”
I groaned. “You heard about that, huh?”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure the entire town heard about that.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better about your measly one-week punishment, I’m grounded until the summer.”
Bea smiled. “That does actually make me feel a little bit better.”
I chuckled and threw my arm around her shoulder. “I’m glad you and me are gonna be all right. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, but let’s stay out of your dad’s love life for a while.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Dad has seen the value in my scheming and he has recruited me to help get him and Miss O’Connor together.” I waggled my eyebrows. “She came over after the whole van-stealing night and they talked and talked and by the end of the night the backyard fire pit was going and the s’mores fixings were gone.”
“Well then, I guess it was a good thing you and I messed up all of his dates.” Bea grinned.
“Of course it was. One of my better ideas, if I do say so myself.”
The following Wednesday, I sat through the entire school day like I had fire ants in my pants. Team Gravy had a big surprise planned, and Miss O’Connor had no idea it was coming.
History class, my last of the day, was especially excruciating. The clock barely moved. Miss O’Connor was teaching us all about the Cold War, and I couldn’t concentrate at all. I just kept thinking about when the last bell would ring and Dad and I could put our plan into action.
Dad had asked me about a billion times if I was sure I wanted to do this. At school. Where other classmates and teachers might see. This was, after all, a potentially embarrassing thing that we were about to do. I had told him I wasn’t afraid of being embarrassed, that I just wanted him to be happy. And I wanted me to be happy. And I wanted Miss O’Connor to be happy.
The last bell rang, and most of the kids scampered out of the classroom like their hair was on fire. Me and Bea stayed behind, slowly packing up our stuff, until we were the last three people in the room. Us and Miss O’Connor.
And then my dad appeared in the doorway, wearing his Abraham Lincoln stovepipe hat. He’d wanted to wear the fake beard, too, but I’d vetoed that. He had a picnic basket slung over one arm and a book tucked into the other.
He cleared his throat. Miss O’Connor looked up, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes were all sparkly. She was giggling, but not in a mean way. Bea and I exchanged a happy look.
“Four score and a bunch of years ago…,” Dad began. He tugged at his bow tie. “…Grace and I made a wonderful friendship with Miss Olivia O’Connor. Founded on our love for history, bad puns, and Jungle Survivor, and dedicated to the proposition that…”
I nudged Bea in the ribs. “Here comes the good part.”
“…friendship can grow into something more.”
Miss O’Connor seemed frozen. Her hand still covered her mouth, but she wasn’t giggling anymore. As Dad’s words sank in, he and Miss O’Connor shared a serious eye lock.
“Dad, show her the basket,” I whispered. Dad set the wicker basket on her desk and opened the lid. We’d spent the previous afternoon baking some delicious chocolate chip scones. I’d snuck one, and they were scrumptious, if I do say so myself.
“This is a little something Grace and I whipped up. A gift for our favorite lady.”
“Miss O’Connor, what my dad is trying to say, is that we made all this for you, to ask if you might go on a date. With my dad. Next weekend, the Springfield Museum is having this special fundraiser. It’s black tie, very fancy.”
“Just like these scones Grace and I made all by ourselves,” Dad added.
“It’s called the Presidential Portrait Walk. You two can get all dressed up and walk through the paintings and impress each other with the vast amount of history you know. Plus, there will probably be crab cakes and little shrimps on skewers.”
“Shrimps…,” Miss O’Connor repeated. Possibly still in shock. It’s not every day that Abraham Lincoln comes to your classroom and asks you out.
“Give her the book, Dad.” He thrust the dusty book into Miss O’Connor’s hands and she touched the cover softly, like she was stroking a bird. “Presidential Portraits Through the Years,” she said, reading the title.
“That’s so you can study up before we go. If you want to go, that is. Did you want to go?”
“This is just…amazing,” she sighed, looking from the book to the basket to Dad and back again. “I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time.”
She might have meant the Presidential Portrait Walk, but I didn’t think so.
* * *
The next Saturday, I helped Dad get his bow tie just right. He gelled his hair and had a bouquet of flowers waiting by the door.
“This is it, Dad. Your first and hopefully not your last date with Miss O’Connor. Olivia. I should probably start calling her Olivia now….Don’t screw it up.”
Dad grinned at me. “It will be a lot easier to not screw up if you aren’t sabotaging me. You are a criminal mastermind.”
I shrugged. “Necessary evil. All my meddling got us where we are today.”
The doorbell rang, and I rushed to answer it. Olivia stood on the front step, looking about as beautiful as an angel. She wore a sparkly gold dress, and her wild curls were pulled back in a jeweled clip. She looked at Dad and grinned.
I turned to Dad. “All right, now don’t forget what I told you: If you’re going to sneak shrimps home in your pockets, use a plastic sandwich bag.”
Olivia pulled one out of her purse and waggled her eyebrows at me. “Why do you think I brought a purse?”
“My kind of lady. You would do well on Jungle Survivor, you know that?” Dad said, grinning.
He gave her the flowers and she gave him a hug and as the two of them headed out the door, Dad turned and looked at me.
“You’ll be okay here tonight, Giblet?” he asked.
“Dad, go. I’ll be just fine.”
It was the first day of May, and I had chosen a hot-pink dress with colorful pom-poms all over it and a bright green belt. I wanted to feel extra confident because today I was presenting my famous-American project in Miss O’Connor’s class.
As soon as the seventh-hour bell rang, Miss O’Connor gave a moving speech about how hard we’d worked and all the growth she had seen in our research notes. She smiled, making all of her students feel special and seen and happy, and I wondered why it had taken me so long to see how beautiful she was.
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Bea was super prepared. She had read me her entire presentation the night before. She had made sure she went to bed early and had made herself a power smoothie for breakfast. Her notes were stacked neatly on her desk with her hands folded calmly on top of them.
I, on the other hand, had only practiced my speech once, and that was to Potus. I had done the research, and I felt like I knew Teddy and Alice back and forth and sideways. But getting up there, in front of my whole class and my dad’s new girlfriend (eek!), made my mouth go dry.
My heart hammered in my chest as Miss O’Connor got set up at the back of the room with her timer and her rubric. As long as she didn’t call on me first, I would be fine. She should call on Bea. Bea was ready. She was practically vibrating with readiness. As long as I wasn’t the very first one—
“Okay, I’m going to go ahead and draw a name for our first victim—Oh, I mean presenter.” Miss O’Connor chuckled. “Anyway, the first presentation is…Grace Martin.” She beamed at me, as if she’d just given me a huge piece of cake.
I clutched my chest as if I was afraid my heart might bust right out of there. Everyone turned to look at me. I gulped. Bea leaned across the aisle. “You got this, Grace. Talking about Teddy is one million times easier than setting your dad up with Miss O’Connor, and you managed to do that.”
I stood and walked to the front, clutching my laptop. My fingers shook as I projected my slideshow up on the screen. But when I pushed Play and “Hail to the Chief” started to play, my classmates broke into applause.
“Thank you, everyone. Today, I am going to tell you why Teddy Roosevelt was our greatest president and a truly inspiring American.” I glanced at the screen behind me and gave the picture of Teddy a wink.
“Teddy Roosevelt didn’t have the easiest life.” I started to flip through the pictures. “He was a sickly child, and he spent a lot of time in bed. He was bullied for his size and because he wore glasses. He lost his mother, and his first wife.” The room full of sixth graders went very quiet, like they were holding their breath. My throat tightened, but I pushed thoughts of my own mother out of my head.
“But Teddy was able to do something that was truly amazing. He was able to take these terrible changes in his life and turn them into something good. He didn’t just survive. He thrived. He went on to become our twenty-sixth president. He remarried after his first wife died and had five more children. He won a Nobel Peace Prize and went on a dangerous and exciting river expedition. He was pretty much the poster child for taking lemons and making lemonade.”
I clicked to the photo of Teddy riding on the back of a moose down a river, and my audience gasped and chuckled. “Teddy Roosevelt is quoted as saying, ‘The only man who never makes mistakes is the man who never does anything.’ I am trying to learn that changes, new experiences, and even mistakes are all part of life. And if I can be strong, and brave, and embrace the changes, I might someday be as cool as Teddy Roosevelt riding a moose.”
My classmates burst into applause, and I caught Bea’s eye. She beamed at me and gave me a wink and then rattled the bag of Skittles she had poking out of her backpack pocket. The rest of the presentation went by in a blur. I threw around names, dates, accomplishments, and facts. I told my classmates everything I’d learned about President Roosevelt, and of course his most spirited daughter, Alice.
Miss O’Connor grinned and scribbled a last note on my rubric. “Does anyone have any questions for Grace?” Hands flew up all over the room, and I answered every single one. I especially loved the questions about Alice and Edith and the children. I felt like I was talking about friends, people I’d spent a lot of time with. People I knew by heart.
When the last question was answered and it was time to return to my seat, I flipped to the very last picture in my slideshow. It was of the entire Roosevelt family, sitting happily on the grass. Teddy’s hand was on Alice’s shoulder and Edith smiled in a gentle, content way. They looked like they belonged together.
I spent the rest of class in a kind of daze. I know that Bea nailed her presentation on Jackie Robinson. I know that a few other kids presented. But mostly my head was in the clouds. Or more accurately, it was in the past, with Teddy and Alice.
After class, Miss O’Connor stopped me as I headed out the door. “Fantastic presentation, Grace. You did the whole Roosevelt family proud.”
* * *
There’s this feeling you get on a spring Sunday morning, when you step out onto the sidewalk after church and you have the whole day in front of you. I squinted in the sunlight and took a deep breath. The air smelled like fresh-cut grass and warm sunshine. People flowed around me, patting each other on the back and shaking hands. Everyone was smiling.
I closed my eyes, my face tilted toward the sun. I could hear Bea’s guitar, the sweet notes of her final song still ringing out as the patrons left the church.
Olivia came and stood next to me in the sunshine. “Great sermon today,” she said. “It has me thinking about that person at school who keeps stealing my snacks from the faculty fridge, even when they’re so clearly marked.”
“Forgiveness is key,” I said, quoting my dad’s sermon.
“I suppose he’s right. Him and God. God’s usually right about these things.”
Dad emerged from the church but was delayed in joining me and Olivia by the throng of people who wanted to wish him well and compliment him on his sermon and ask for prayers. I didn’t mind, though. I was just about as happy as I could be standing in the sunshine with Olivia, listening to Bea, waiting for Dad.
Bea’s parents stood under the shade of a large oak tree, Mrs. Morrison bouncing Julian on her hip. The old ladies of the congregation were taking turns cooing over Bea’s little brother, straightening his tiny bow tie and tickling his chubby knees. His parents beamed, and I wasn’t even mad at them for being so happy. They had rearranged their family, but it had all turned out okay. Maybe even better than okay.
Dad finally escaped his crowd of adoring fans and he kissed the top of my head and put his arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “Hey! There you are. How would you two like to join me for lunch at Ziggy’s? I’m in the mood for a three-meat combo.”
I was just about to give my enthusiastic reply when I overheard a woman’s voice from behind me on the steps.
“Pastor Davy is dating Olivia O’Connor! Well, I suppose she is a nice young lady. We did say he should find a nice young lady. But what’s taking him so long? Why doesn’t he pop the question? They aren’t getting any younger. As members of the Building and Grounds Committee, I really feel we should let him know that he’d better ask for her hand.”
I felt my ears go red, and my hands balled into fists. The voice clearly belonged to Miss Donna, and when I spun on my heels to confront her, I saw that she was talking to Miss Marge. So predictable.
“Miss Donna, Miss Marge, with all due respect…,” I started, my voice quaking with rage, “mind your own beeswax!”
“Grace!” Dad said, his eyes bugging. Olivia grabbed his arm, looking between me and him and the church busybodies.
I took a few deep breaths and tried to find Bea’s guitar notes over the chatter of the people on the steps. The church bells started to chime, giving me a few more seconds to calm down, to think of Team Gravy and Olivia and what would be best for everyone.
When the last note of the last bell died down I straightened my spine and pushed back my shoulders. I looked those two women right in the face. “My dad has taken your advice and found a nice lady to spend time with. Now, if it’s okay with the two of you, I think we might want to stay out of it for a while so they can figure things out.”
Miss Donna sniffed. “I love a spring proposal.”
Miss Marge nodded. “I love a summer wedding.”
Dad held up both hands in surrender. “Ladies! I’m with Grace on this one. Let’s not get ahead of ourse
lves.” He turned to look at Olivia. “I have somehow managed to convince the most awesome woman in the entire congregation to go out with me. Let’s not scare her off.”
Miss Marge leaned her white puffball hair toward Dad and spoke in the world’s loudest whisper. “You’d better lock that down before she figures out you tell those terrible jokes all the time.”
Dad busted out laughing, which was totally contagious, and so me and Olivia joined in. “Oh no,” Dad snorted, “my secret’s out!”
When he’d wiped the tears from his eyes, he turned to Miss Marge and Miss Donna. “Ladies. Thank you for looking out for me. For wanting what’s best for me. But I gotta make my own decision on this one. Don’t worry. I’m talking to the Big Guy about it. So how ’bout we wait until He tells me what to do?”
The ladies smiled and nodded and looked slightly abashed, because even if you can argue with a pastor, you can’t argue with God. I slipped one arm through my dad’s and one through Olivia’s and smiled, because I was pretty sure Olivia was the answer to the preacher’s prayers.
“Today is a very special day in the history of Team Gravy,” I said, looking Dad and Olivia in the eye. “A day we have been anticipating for quite some time. A day that will dramatically change our lives.”
Dad snorted. I ignored him.
“Today, we tour my new, awesome, and completely unpacked bedroom. Follow me,” I said, heading up the stairs with Olivia and Dad trailing behind.
I stopped at the top of the stairs and admired the space that was now all mine. Just a few short months ago it had been stuffed to the ceiling with boxes of junk. The cobwebs and dust had made it seem more haunted than not. Plus, there had been a definite lack of walls, ceiling, heating, and cooling. You know, the basics.
But now, looking around, it was like this room had been designed just for me. The slanting ceilings and walls had been painted a soft yellow that felt like pure sunshine. There was a cool, modern chandelier hanging in the center of the space that reminded me of a lacy beach ball. The soft, squishy carpet still gave off that new smell, and a colorful area rug added some personality.