Some Kind of Happiness
Page 25
“Jack. Yes. Why’d you get mad?”
“Because, well . . . I have this crush on you.”
It kind of seems like a joke, with him staring at me, so serious. People who say things like that while looking so serious are bound to be poking fun at you. Right?
Jack and me. Me and Jack. We are in the Tower, and it seems like it’s right where we are supposed to be.
“Stop making fun of me,” I say.
“I’m one hundred percent serious. It’s just . . . I didn’t want you to see them. Whenever Mom comes by, she’s in such a bad mood, and Dad . . . he’s great, but when he gets like that, when he drinks, he’s . . .”
“Scary?”
“Yeah.”
“He was nice, though, after.”
“He is. I love him, you know? I just don’t always like him. He’s got problems.”
I do laugh then. What else can I do? “He’s not the only one.”
Jack cracks a grin. “Hey, you know what?”
“What?”
“You’re blushing.”
I sit up and shake my hair over my cheeks. “I am not.”
“It’s okay.” Jack grins. “You can have a crush on me, too.”
This is getting out of hand. “How can you just say things like that?”
He shrugs. “That’s the way I am.”
“Well, you want to know the way I am?”
Jack sits up. “Definitely.”
I have only said these words out loud twice—to Grandma, to Mom and Dad.
And now to Jack.
“I have these things I call blue days,” I say. “When I get sad for no reason.”
Jack nods and waits. He hasn’t run away screaming yet.
“And I don’t mean normal sad. At all. I mean sad for no reason. Heavy sad. I wake up feeling happy and then anything can happen, or nothing can happen, and all of a sudden I’m sad, and I can’t stop being sad, even though I want to. Sometimes I freak out so bad I can’t breathe. Sometimes I pretend to be sick to stay home from school because it feels impossible to get out of bed. That’s how I came up with the Everwood. I started writing about it to make myself feel better.”
I stop, feeling dizzy. Each time I talk about this, each time I let out the words, I feel . . . lighter. Clear like the Everwood sky.
“So?” I say. “Do you still have a crush on me?”
“Yep,” says Jack.
“Why? How can you?”
“Too long to explain. But I do have a question.”
I sigh. He is exasperating. He needs to comb his hair. “What?”
“Were you happy in the Everwood? With all of us?”
“Yes.” I answer that without thinking.
“But you were still sad, too?”
This I answer more slowly, because it makes me angry to admit it. “Yes.”
“Well, okay. So that has to mean something. Right?”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe you have to really try and fix it now. The stuff that’s been bothering you. The blue days. Because if you’re sad even when you’re happy, even when you’re doing stuff you like doing, maybe you can’t just ignore it forever.”
His words remind me of what Mom said, the other night, snuggled up in my bed here at Hart House: “You can’t hide in the Everwood anymore, sweetie.”
Dad sat beside the bed, in a chair.
(Before, he would have been in there with us.)
(But that was before.)
“We can help you, Fin,” Dad said. “There are lots of ways to help you with this. But we’ve all got to try, together. Okay?”
And now I am sitting beside Jack, and he shrugs. “Maybe you’ve got to ask someone to help you figure it out. I don’t know.”
“I guess so,” I say.
Jack smiles. “No big deal.”
“No big deal.”
“I’ll help, if you want. You can write me letters and tell me everything.”
“What about the dungeon plan?”
Jack holds my hand. “Is this okay?”
(If this day had a color, it would be as gold as the sun.)
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
(It is so okay that it surpasses all possible definitions of the word.)
“So, the dungeon plan.”
“In progress.” Jack sticks his other arm out into the sun and closes his eyes. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
He is right.
This is a work in progress.
I will figure it out.
• • •
For reasons beyond my understanding, Dr. Bristow is not mad about the open window incident.
She gives me an enormous hug the moment I step into her office, in fact.
That doesn’t seem entirely professional to me, but I like it anyway.
I have a substantial amount of good huggers in my life. This might not be something everyone enjoys.
We settle on the couch. Mom, me, Dad. Dr. Bristow in her chair.
“So, Finley,” she says, “what’s on your mind today?”
I breathe in and breathe out.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say. “I talked a lot with Mom and Dad.”
“That’s good. What about?”
“About me. We’ve done some research.”
I breathe in. I breathe out.
(It’s okay, Finley.)
(Let her see.)
Dad squeezes my hand.
“I think I have depression.” I hesitate. “And anxiety, too.”
When I say it, the words float away from me and leave nothing behind.
They are only words. They are only part of me, and I am still here.
I do not need to be afraid of them.
“Sometimes I have panic attacks,” I say. “Sometimes I can’t sleep. Sometimes I sleep too much, and sometimes I hurt and can’t breathe.”
Dr. Bristow says, “What happens, when you start to feel like this? What do you do next?”
I think for a second and then glance at Mom. She smiles at me and pulls my notebook out of her purse.
I settle it on my lap and open to the first story I ever wrote about the Everwood—about how the Everwood came to be, when the world was very young and full of magic.
I told this story to Mr. Bailey that night, sitting under the stars with him and Jack.
This is the story of my heart.
“I think I should read some of these stories to you,” I tell her. “They explain everything.”
Dr. Bristow smiles. “That sounds perfect.”
So I scoot back until I am wedged tight between Mom and Dad. I find the beginning, and I start to read.
46
WHY MY LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL
• I know a lot of good huggers.
• Jack and I will continue to write letters.
• We do not yet have a new name for the Bone House, but we will think of one.
■ (We still have so many fun things left to do. We are only just beginning.)
• There is now a memorial near the finished Bone House, in honor of the Travers family.
• Grandma and Grandpa want to tell people the whole truth.
■ That in itself is scary, but I have learned it is important to tell the truth, even if it is frightening.
■ And no matter what, we will all have one another, now and forever.
♦ We are all linked, we Harts.
♦ (We share blood and bones. We are a battleship, and we will not sink.)
• Mom and Dad will always love me, even though Dad now lives in another apartment.
■ His apartment overlooks a giant wooded park.
■ He says that is why he chose it—for me, so I could see trees, even when I am not in my Everwood.
• I am in the process of introducing Rhonda to the Beatles. She is not yet convinced, but I am persistent.
• Avery will leave for the Rigby Institute next year.
■ We are already planning my first visit.
■ She t
exts me picture updates of her newest paintings every week.
• It is okay to be sad.
■ It does not mean I am broken or strange or a non-Hart.
• Dex is alive.
• I am alive.
• Grandma is alive. Right now.
• Right now is all that matters, because right now is what we know.
• The future is wide open, and the world is full of people who get scared and lie and are sad and happy.
■ That is how it is supposed to be.
HE QUEEN’S MOTHER AND FATHER had returned to her at last, and though they were changed, they were still themselves in the ways that mattered.
They told her she would no longer have to hide herself, or face the darkness alone.
Most importantly, they told her they still loved her and always would—yes, even though she carried her sadness inside her.
Her sadness, they said, was not a thing they must look past to love her. It was a part of her, and therefore it was a part of them.
The queen brought them to the Everwood and introduced them to the trees, the river, the wind. She wore her crown. The fog had gone from the forest, leaving everything fresh and golden and new.
“This is where it happened,” she explained to her mother and father. “This is where I have been, all this time. This is where I came to know my friends.”
The artist. The lady knight. The champion and the two young squires, who were soon to be knighted for their bravery. The three pirates, and the wizard’s ghost.
The queen thought of them, and she knew that her sadness was now not the only thing she carried inside her heart, nor the most powerful.
Now everything would be different—for her, for her friends, for everyone in the Everwood—in ways she could not yet imagine.
Things would change, as they do.
But the Everwood would remain, and so would the bond among those who lived there.
She would make sure of that.
“Is it time?” asked the queen’s mother.
“Are you ready?” asked her father.
“I am,” said the queen, and she stepped with them out of the trees and into the sun.
Claire Legrand used to be a musician until she realized she couldn’t stop thinking about the stories in her head. Now Ms. Legrand can often be found typing with a purpose at her keyboard, losing herself in the stacks of her local library, or embarking upon spontaneous adventures to lands unknown. She has written two middle-grade novels, The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls, a New York Public Library Best Book for Children in 2012, The Year of Shadows, and a young adult novel Winterspell. Claire lives in New Jersey with a dragon and two cats. Visit her at claire-legrand.com.
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Also by Claire Legrand
The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls
The Year of Shadows
Winterspell
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Text copyright © 2016 by Claire Legrand
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The text for this book was set in New Caledonia.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Legrand, Claire, 1986– author.
Title: Some kind of happiness / Claire Legrand.
Description: First Edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young
Readers, [2016] | Summary: Finley Hart is sent to her grandparents’ house for the summer, but her anxiety and overwhelmingly sad days continue until she escapes into her writings which soon turn mysteriously real and she realizes she must save this magical world in order to save herself.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015033782| ISBN 9781442466012 (hardback)
ISBN 9781442466036 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Depression, Mental—Fiction. | Family problems—Fiction. | Secrets— Fiction. | Fantasy. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Family / General (see also headings under Social Issues). | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / New Experience. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Depression & Mental Illness.
Classification: LCC PZ7.L521297 So 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015033782