by Laura Dower
“Anyway …” Madison said.
“See you around?” he said.
“I guess so,” Madison replied, not sure if he’d been asking a real question or just saying good-bye.
“Yeah,” Mark continued. “Maybe we could do something with our grandmothers. Or there’s Tower Beach or tennis. Or whatever.”
“Sure,” Madison said. “SURE!”
She caught herself staring again.
How could Madison already be feeling the fireworks … when it wasn’t even July Fourth yet?
Chapter 9
ON TUESDAY MORNING, GRAMMA pulled Madison out of bed just as the sun was about to come up.
“Let’s go watch the sky turn colors as the sun rises,” Gramma told Madison, who could barely keep her eyes open.
“It’s too early.” Madison yawned. “Gramma!”
“Nonsense!” Gramma exclaimed. “When the light changes, the water changes color, too. Lake Michigan is filled with life. Come on!”
In addition to painting the sunrise, Gramma explained, she wanted to take Madison for a little bird watching. There was too much to do!
Madison rubbed her eyes and grabbed the binoculars. “I think I’m going to fall asleep standing up,” she told Gramma.
But of course she didn’t.
Madison put on Phinnie’s leash, and they piled into the car and drove toward Tower Head Beach.
A few more yawns later, everything magically changed. Madison became alert, gabbing with Gramma as they parked the car and walked down to the dunes. The beach was practically empty.
“Stick with me,” Gramma said. “I’ll show you where the fun is.”
Madison laughed. She tried to imagine Aimee and Egg and the rest of the Far Hills group getting up at the crack of dawn to look at birds and sand.
Twee-leet! Twee-leet!
Madison whirled her head around and looked into the air for the bird making that noise. Gramma pointed to a red-winged bird on a pine tree branch high above the beach. Then they saw a yellow-bellied bird fly by.
Koo-koo cheeeeeep!
Gramma took out a fold-up stool, a sketch pad, and watercolors, then sat down, and started to paint the tree and the birds. Madison watched her grandmother’s paintbrush move gently over the paper. Gramma could do anything. The birds came to life in pale colors on the page. And Lake Michigan shimmered as the sun rose up in the distance, just as Gramma said it would.
Sitting together on the sand, Madison guessed that this was one of the “summer surprises” Mom had talked about. By the time the sun had fully risen, Madison helped Gramma pack up her things again and reload the car.
“Let’s go get breakfast,” Gramma said. “I made cranberry muffins. Do you like those?”
Madison nodded even though she’d never tried them before. But if Gramma made them, she knew they’d be good.
While the muffins toasted and the hot chocolate heated, Madison and Gramma played a round of crazy eights on Madison’s request. She liked the card game more and more—mostly because it was Gramma’s favorite.
She liked everything about her stay in Winnetka so far. Even if the boy next door made her nervous, Madison had Gramma to make everything better.
Since they’d gotten up so early, it seemed like the whole day had gone by when it was only noontime! After breakfast, Madison and Gramma looked through more photo albums and reminisced some more about what Mom was like as a kid. Every story was like a piece of candy that Gramma unwrapped and fed to Madison.
When the funny cuckoo clock in Gramma’s living room struck twelve, Madison peered through the curtains again to see if Mark or Mabel would appear. They didn’t. And Mabel’s car wasn’t in the driveway, either.
Gramma went back to her knitting in the afternoon. She didn’t want to sit outside when the sun was hottest because she said her head fried like an egg in the sun. Gramma was always coming up with expressions like that. Plus if she knit for an hour or so, that meant Madison would have extra time on her laptop.
Although she loved hanging out with Gramma all day, Madison was grateful for the time alone. She still owed Bigwheels another e-mail—and she wanted to see if Aimee or Fiona had written again.
She logged on and started writing.
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: I am in LIKE
Date: Tues 1 July 12:34 PM
How are u? How is your camper? Are you meeting any new friends while camping? I think it is so fun that you and my mom are right now in the exact same location in the USA. She’s in California now, too, did I tell you that? Where are you going next? I got your last e-card. Thanks for that. I still need to send you one, but I haven’t seen any here in Winnetka. My gramma drew this cool picture of birds this morning, though. Maybe I’ll send that.
I have sort of big vacation news I am dying to tell you. There is this boy who lives next door to Gramma (well, he’s just visiting next door), and I think I am in total like even though we only met a day ago (well, really we just talked yesterday for the first time). I know this is totally wacky because I like that guy Hart from my school, right? This guy’s name is Mark, and he has brown hair, too, just like Hart, but he doesn’t act all goofy like Hart does. He’s a little older too, he’s 14, but it doesn’t really matter except he seems a little more mature.
Maybe instead of an e-card, I’ll send a picture of me and Mark! Yeah, right!
Yours till the sun tans,
MadFinn, aka Maddie
p.s. I am attaching this cool survey that someone sent to me online. Please fill it out and send me a copy back. Then send it on to your other friends. I’ll send one to you, too, later.
Madison zoomed out of the e-mailbox and double-checked her buddy list. Aimee and Fiona were both online, so she sent off an Insta-Message … instantly.
Hey what r u doing online NOW?
Meet me in private chat room MISSYOU
She had to wait awhile for her BFFs to respond.
Madison was about to type, He’s a BOY friend! but she stopped herself and changed the subject.
Madison paused at the keyboard. She felt a little lump in her throat.
Madison’s fingers stopped typing right there in the middle of the e-conversation. How could he have sent her that nice e-mail and then … planned a date with Ivy? She pictured the two of them sitting together on a rock on a beach somewhere, holding hands. She wanted to cry.
Ivy always got what she wanted.
For the first time since she’d landed at the airport, Madison felt a little homesick. Her head was woozy, too, spinning with thoughts of Hart and Ivy … and Ivy and Hart … and …
Was this gossip true?
“Maddie?” Gramma Helen poked her head into the guest room, where Maddie was sitting, only to catch her granddaughter staring at a blank computer screen. “Is everything okay in here?” she asked.
Madison sighed. “Not really.”
Gramma scooted over to Madison’s bedside. “Well, cheer up. You have a visitor,” she said softly. “At the front door.”
“Huh?” Madison said. “A visitor?” A moment later, it hit her. Who else would be visiting her here?
Mark.
“He’s here?” Madison said, her voice squeaking a little. “HERE?”
“Shhh. Yes, he’s in the living room, and I said I’d come get you. I think he might want to go to the beach. He’s got a towel with him. Do you want to go to the beach again? It’s not too late in the day, and you could go swimming. He is such a nice boy.”
Madison jumped out of her chair and peered through the crack in the door. Mark was indeed sitting on the living room sofa, bag and towel by his feet, cracking his knuckles.
“Oh no,” Madison whispered. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Gramma grinned. “You’re supposed to go.”
Phinnie barked as if to say, “WOOF! GO!”
And so five minutes later, Madison was headed out the door in her flowered bathing suit and blue T-shirt, swimming towel, and flip-flops.
Madison couldn’t believe how crowded Tower Head Beach was when they arrived on the scene sometime after two-thirty. She and Mark walked over together, gabbing about gulls and sand and other beach stuff. He knew some fun trivia about Lake Michigan that made Madison laugh.
They threw their towels on the sand. Mark suggested they go in for a quick swim right away. Madison tugged the edges of her blue T-shirt. She didn’t feel like dashing into the water like him. She dug her heel into the sand.
“The water here is warm in summer,” Mark said, running for the edge. “Come on! Don’t worry!”
Madison watched Mark dodge a few kids and dive into a shallow wave.
Without even thinking, she pulled off her T-shirt and followed in after him. A few moments later, Madison was standing there, waist high in Lake Michigan, in nothing more than a bathing suit. For most people, this would not have been a huge deal, but for Madison Finn, it was a MEGA-huge deal.
Splash! Sploosh!
Madison squinted up into the sun. Mark had splashed fistfuls of water in her direction, and she had to blink to see clearly. Luckily it was fresh water and not salty like the ocean.
“Cut it out!” Madison giggled. She wiped her face and dunked down into the water so she’d be all wet.
Splash! Sploosh!
Mark kept right on splashing.
“You better watch out!” Madison yelled, splashing back. A seagull squawked as it passed overhead, and for a moment, Madison wished she’d brought Phinnie so he could swim, too.
Splash! Sploosh!
Unlike back at Lake Dora, Madison was enjoying this splash feud. She splashed Mark and nearly knocked him over.
“Hey,” Mark cried. “No fair!”
Madison laughed and ran out of the water toward her towel. The lake was getting a little cooler now. She slipped on her blue T-shirt and wrapped her towel tight around her shoulders.
“That was fun,” she said as Mark approached his own towel and sat down on the beach. He agreed.
“We should play tennis, too,” he said. “Can you play?”
Madison nodded. “Sort of. I can hit the ball back a little bit. I almost went to tennis camp one summer.”
She and Mark sat together in silence and waited for the sun to dry them off a little more. Then they walked back toward their grandmothers’ houses.
Mark walked Madison to the door of Gramma Helen’s cottage. She felt the same surge of nerves she’d felt the night near the garbage cans.
“See you later, then,” he said, walking backward away from Madison.
Madison smiled. “Maybe see you tomorrow?” she said, not believing that she’d actually asked him that question. It was bolder than she’d ever been with Hart.
But Mark made a face. “Aw, I can’t tomorrow morning. I have to go with my grandmother to the clinic. For her ankle, you know? Sorry.”
“Oh,” Madison said. “Okay.”
“Maybe when I get back?” he asked. “I’d love to hang out with your dog or something.”
Madison wrinkled her brows.
Hang out with the dog?
“Oh,” Madison said again. “Okay.”
Mark turned and walked away without saying another word. He just raised his hand up with a good-bye wave.
Madison waved, too.
And the moment she walked inside the front entryway at Gramma Helen’s house, she ran to find Phin.
“Oh, Phinnieeeee!” she said, letting out a little scream of glee.
Phinnie nearly fell off the sofa.
Chapter 10
ON WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, ALL plans were off. It poured.
Gramma even decided to stop playing cards because her back was aching, so she lay down for a long nap.
Madison had to find something else to keep herself occupied.
Mark wasn’t around, so she couldn’t hang out with him.
And Phinnie was useless company. That dog just wanted to sleep next to Gramma’s dishwasher.
After trying in vain to get any reception on Gramma’s broken-down TV set, Madison attempted to piece together one of the thirty or so puzzles that had been collecting dust over the years on Gramma’s basement shelves. She found piles of puzzles featuring gum ball jars, cityscapes, and beach scenes, finally settling on a puzzle called Big Sky. But after only fifteen minutes, Madison even gave up on that. She was lost in all those blue clouds. Ultimately, Madison turned to her laptop for companionship. She curled into the big, upholstered living room chair and settled in to work on her files.
Rain
How could yesterday be so perfect and today is like massive cloud cover—over my whole LIFE? Okay, I’m exaggerating a little. But because of the stupid rain, I sat here all morning inside with Gramma going crazy playing crazy eights. And I didn’t meet up with Mark, who I really, REALLY wanted to see today. And now I’m just alone.
Rude awakening: Is there an umbrella to keep people from raining on my parade?
Bigwheels says that rain is the best thing in the whole world. She told me once that she loves raindrops on her face and her hair. But I don’t get it. Rain makes ME grumpier than grumpy.
I wonder if Mark likes the rain?
Mark, Mark, Mark.
Why can’t I get him out of my mind?
As she sat there writing, Madison had to admit that the sound of raindrops on windows was rather comforting. Warm, summer rainfall plinking on the house was like a kind of music all around. And there was no lightning or thunder that raged with this storm, just a steady stream of gray and wet running down the glass, down the street, and down the downspout.
Just thinking about Mark in the rain made Madison smile. She secretly wished he were around so she could run away to the beach with him (even if they got drenched) or play some kind of
rain-splashing game together. But Mark and Mabel probably wouldn’t be returning to Winnetka Village until late.
As the afternoon—and Gramma’s nap—went on, Madison alternated between writing and reading in the big chair. Two more file updates and four more chapters into her book later, she finally moved—because she had to move.
Phin needed a walk.
“ROWRROOOOO!”
If she hated rain, her dog hated it twice as much. Phinnie howled and scowled and pulled backward on his leash so Madison couldn’t even get him out the door at first. And even when he did make it outdoors, the pug protested by not peeing. He sat his little bottom right down in the mud and refused to budge.
“Phinnie!” Madison shrieked at the dog. “Get UP!”
“Rowrorooooo!” Phin barked again. He wasn’t moving anywhere.
When she realized the dog was being more stubborn than she was, Madison started to drag Phin across the lawn. He yelped a little but finally followed her obediently. Madison leaned over a few times to rub his wet paws and check to make sure that he wasn’t getting too cold and damp. Phin snorted in continued protest but finally did what he was supposed to do and then scrambled for the porch at Gramma’s house. Madison opened the door and he wiggled inside, curly tail going as fast as it could.
Gramma was finally up from her nap by the time the pair returned.
“You two are soaked to the skin!” she said.
Madison shrugged her wet shoulders. “I guess so. Why does it have to rain so much, Gramma?”
Throwing a towel around Madison’s back, Gramma squeezed. “It’s good, all this rain. Good for the flowers. Good for the skin. Good for you …”
Madison sighed. Gramma was good at saying wise things, but even those words didn’t soothe Madison’s grumpy disposition.
“I have an idea,” Gramma suggested, trying to change the mood. “Why don’t you go out to the backyard? In the shed out there, I’ve got some watercolor paint kits. We could paint and make some art together. Maybe you could even make one of those collages you’re so good at doing.”
It sounded way better than any ideas Madison had, so she obliged.
“Don’t get all drenched again!” Gramma warned, but of course it was too late. Once again, Madison faced the spitting rain. She was soaked in seconds.