Holly's Heart Collection One

by Beverly Lewis

  “Wilkins’ Torture Chamber,” a male voice said.

  “Is that you, Jared?”

  “Who else?” He was laughing.

  “It’s Holly.”

  “I’d know your voice anywhere.” He paused. “How’s school?”

  “Okay, I guess. The team misses you. Everyone does,” I said, thinking I was the one who missed him most. “I visited you Sunday afternoon, but you were snoring.”

  He chuckled. “Meds knocked me out a couple days before surgery. But Doc says I’m going home tomorrow.”

  “Really?” I was dying to see him again.

  “How’d your audition go?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve sung better,” I told him.

  “Hope you make it.” His voice was soft. “Choir tour wouldn’t be the same without you, Holly-Heart.”

  My heart flip-flopped. “Mr. Keller’s going to post the list this weekend. But you already know you made it. They need guys in choir…I heard that before auditions.” Fidgeting, I folded my long hair over the top of my head. It hung down like a satiny curtain in front of me. “I might be going to visit my dad in California for spring break,” I said.

  “You can’t do that…it’s the choir tour.”

  “But isn’t the tour this summer?”

  “No, it’s during spring break, and we’re going to Disneyland.”

  “Guess I’ll just have to visit my dad another time,” I said, wondering how I could’ve gotten so mixed up.

  Jared changed the subject. “Aren’t we going skiing this weekend?”

  “With your leg in a cast?” Some comedian.

  “And why not?” Jared asked, laughing.

  “But your leg…”

  “No, really.” He sounded more serious now. “I’ll be home from the hospital on Friday, and the youth group’s going tobogganing Saturday at Jake’s Run. How about going along to keep me company at the lodge?”

  Jake’s Run—the steepest, wildest toboggan ride this side of the Continental Divide. It had a cozy, A-frame lodge with a coffee shop and a lounge with a huge stone fireplace. “How can you get around with your leg in a cast?” I asked.

  “I’ve got crutches now. And my folks think it would be good for me to get out, as long as I’m careful. What do you say?”

  As much as I wanted to go along, Mom would never agree. She always said I had to be much older—like in my twenties—and oozing with responsibility before I could even think of dating. Besides, I still wasn’t old enough to go on the youth group activities yet, not for eighteen more days. I sighed. “I don’t think I can,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Why not?”

  I dodged the question. I had some doubts about Jared, and they confused me. What really had happened between him and Andie at the hospital? Had she lied about his wanting her there? Eating supper together? All of it bugged me. “Isn’t Andie going on the ski trip?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Why?”

  “I thought you liked Andie. She thinks you do.”

  “Andie and I are just friends,” he protested.

  Carrie was suddenly standing in front of me. She was tugging at my shirt, even though I shooed her away. Her eyes were demanding little specks, growing wider with every second.

  “Look, I’ve gotta go. My little sister needs me.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Jared said. “Bye, Holly.”

  I held the phone in my hand, reluctant to hang up. Turning to Carrie, I said, “Please don’t ever do that again. This phone call was private.”

  “So that’s why you came up here—to Mom’s bedroom—to talk.” Her childishness was annoying. “You were hiding from me.”

  “You’ll understand some day.”

  “So you must really like this Jared person,” she taunted.

  “You’ll never know.” I raced her downstairs to the kitchen, where we helped ourselves to carrots and dip.

  If what Carrie said just now was true, why did I feel both happy and miserable?

  The next two days in school dragged on. Jared called Thursday night and pleaded again with me to go to Jake’s Run with the youth group. I told him I hadn’t asked my mom yet.

  Before I knew it, Saturday had arrived. Sleep-in time!

  Mom jostled me out of my covers. “Wake up, Holly-Heart. This is the day we’ve been waiting for. The choir list will be posted at church.” She tossed Bearie-O at me.

  I kicked my leg over the side of the bed. Slowly easing out, I stood and stared at the mirror. Was this the face of a traveling singer? A new youth choir member?

  Right after breakfast the phone rang. It was Andie.

  “I’m not sure I want to talk to you,” I said.

  “Listen, something’s really crazy,” she said. “It’s just too awful.”

  “Why are you calling me? We’re not talking, remember?”

  “It’s such a shame,” she said, ignoring me. “It really is.”

  “What is?” I asked.

  “Holly, I’ll try to break this to you gently.”

  “Break what to me?”

  “You asked for it,” she said. “Your name’s nowhere to be seen on the list for choir.”

  I slammed down the phone. Enough of her gloating. Mr. Keller and his precious choir could go sing in their sleep for all I cared.

  Determined to ignore Andie and her nasty news, I marched to the garage. There, I found a box of lawn and leaf trash bags. I scribbled a note to Andie, pinned it to Bearie-O, and stuffed him inside.

  “I’m going for a walk, Mom.” I yanked my jacket and gloves out of the closet.

  “Where on earth are you headed in this cold?” she called.

  I slung the trash bag over my shoulder. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

  Trudging down the sidewalk—where Andie and I had played the don’t-step-on-a-crack-or-you’ll-break-your-mother’s-back game when we were kids—I headed off to Andie’s house, only a few blocks away.

  When I arrived, I noticed the mail carrier coming up the street.

  Perfect! In a few minutes the deed would be done. I hid behind a clump of aspen trees in front of her house till the mail truck passed by. Then, in a flash, I dashed to Andie’s mailbox, opened it, and shoved the trash bag inside—Bearie-O and all.

  Back home, I told Mom to forget about checking on the choir list at church.

  “Why’s that, honey?” she said, looking up from the dining room table, where she was writing a list.

  I tossed my mittens up onto the shelf in the hall closet. “I already know I wasn’t picked for choir. But it’s okay—I didn’t want to see Andie’s fat little face every day of my life during spring break anyway.”

  “What’s going on between you two?” Mom asked, putting her pen down and staring at me.

  “We’re through, she and I. Finished. The final end of us has come.” Then, on the heels of that, I made the cold announcement about Daddy. “Oh, by the way, I thought you might like to know…I’ve decided to visit Daddy during spring break.”

  She looked positively shocked. “Isn’t this a bit sudden?”

  “I’m sick of being around here. I’m sick of everything!” I sat down on the floor in a heap.

  “Holly-Heart, you’re terribly upset about the choir tour, aren’t you?” She left her list behind and sat on the floor beside me, stroking my hair.

  “It’s that, and everything else. You…you just don’t understand anymore.”

  “We can talk about it.”

  “It’s too late. My letter to Daddy has probably arrived there by now.”

  “We could’ve discussed this. I wish you’d talked to me first.”

  I looked at her. “Well, Daddy must think I’m old enough to decide where I want to spend my vacations.” With that, I got up and trudged upstairs. At the top, I turned to see Mom, still sitting on the floor, looking terribly sad.

  In my room, I tried to think of five exceptionally creative ways to ask Mom about going tobogganing with the you
th group. But after letting some time pass, and then going back downstairs to talk to her, the only thing I came up with was this: “May I please go to Jake’s Run with the youth group this afternoon?”

  She was sitting at the dining room table, now clipping coupons.

  She looked up, scissors in hand. “It’s pretty short notice, don’t you think?” Snip went her scissors.

  “I guess, but I just found out about it,” I said as politely as a charm-school graduate.

  “From whom?” She added three more coupons to her pile.

  Somehow I knew that was coming.

  “Jared Wilkins told me,” I said.

  “Didn’t he just get out of the hospital?” There was no fooling her.

  “Yes, but he needs some company, some fresh air, too.” I pleaded my case upside and down. Mom was a hard one to crack.

  “Your friend Jared wouldn’t be foolish enough to go tobogganing with his leg in a cast, would he?”

  “Oh, Mom. Be fair. We won’t be outside. He and I will probably talk inside the lodge…wait while the others go sledding, you know.”

  “What you just described sounds much too exclusive. Besides, the whole idea of going with a group is to be with the group.”

  “But I’ve been alone with Jared before. We went to the Soda Straw and…”

  Oops. What had made me mention that?

  Mom’s eyes got all squinty and she said, slowly and evenly, “You did what?”

  “We just had a Coke one day after school, and Andie came by anyway, so it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. I’m responsible. Please, Mom? Please may I go?”

  “Not this time, Holly-Heart,” she said flatly.

  That nickname meant I was loved, but I certainly didn’t feel like it, at least not now. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” I said over my shoulder as I stomped up the steps, thinking of ways to escape for the afternoon.

  Five minutes alone in my room was all the time it took. When Mom was ready to go grocery shopping, I’d say I had to finish up some homework. Then when the house was empty I’d hop a bus to the church. The perfect plan!

  After lunch I volunteered to clean up the kitchen. Mom seemed to be impressed. Carrie was obviously relieved.

  By the time Mom was ready to do the shopping, I had convinced her to let me stay home to do a report for school. I couldn’t believe she fell for it.

  House empty, I slipped into my soft pink turtleneck sweater and brushed my hair. My heart pounded at the thought of the daring adventure ahead.

  The lodge above Jake’s Run buzzed with noise as skiers clumped in their boots across the wooden floor to the snack bar. Jackets hung on pegs, their bright colors splashed against the dark paneling.

  Jared and I went through the snack bar to a quieter spot, a small room with cozy sofas and tall windows overlooking the slopes. A roaring fire crackled in a white-brick fireplace nearby. I warmed my feet as Jared showed off his storytelling abilities to the perfect audience: me.

  “That’s fabulous,” I said when he finished. “You should write some of them down.”

  “Sometimes I do. But mostly they’re in my head. What about you?”

  “I’d write all the time, if I could.”

  “I think we’re made for each other,” he said.

  I laughed, enjoying the attention. Too much. “What do you mean…just because we both like to write?”

  “That’s one of the cool things about you, Holly. You don’t play games. You’re honest.”

  I took a deep breath. He sure wouldn’t be saying that if he knew how I’d lied to get out of the house.

  Later, I signed his cast. In red letters, I wrote, LOVE, HOLLY.

  Our hands touched.

  “Does this mean you’re, uh, you know…my girlfriend?” he asked, propping a pillow under his bad leg.

  I ignored the question. “Here, let me help you.”

  “Well, Holly-Heart?” He’d called me by my nickname again.

  I blushed. “Okay.”

  Jared’s eyes twinkled. “Fabulous,” he said softly, using my word.

  We played six games of checkers while the youth group tobogganed. What a great time I was having with Jared smiling and flirting across the checkerboard at me.

  By the time the sun’s rays disappeared behind the mountains, around the supper hour, I knew that Mom would know the truth.

  On the way home Jared said I was perfect. So what if I was tall and thin?

  Happily, I believed him. This was a first crush at its very best.

  Well, almost. The guilt from lying and sneaking off grew more powerful as each snow-packed mile crunched under our bus.

  Then, on the final mountain pass, the bus broke down. Danny and Alissa and several others got out as the driver surveyed the problem. I watched Alissa from inside the bus. She looked like a snow princess; her face glowed—half windburn, part sunburn, and a little adoration for Danny Myers thrown in.

  I checked my watch. Mom would be worried sick by now. Too bad no one had cell phone reception in this rocky locale. Maybe, though, I told myself, it will be better to talk to Mom face to face about this.

  My nerves told another story.

  Then Jared winked at me and my heart flip-flopped. I pushed my worries away.

  Three hours and a growling stomach later, I turned my house key in the lock. Carrie caught me tiptoeing in. “Mom, she’s home,” she shouted, throwing her arms around me.

  Mom eyeballed me from the sofa, closing the book she was reading. Slowly, she stood up. Her precise movements spelled trouble. “You’ve been gone a long time, Holly-Heart.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She knew.

  “I won’t lie to you anymore, Mom. I went with the youth group to Jake’s Run.”

  She squinted her eyes. “It was deceitful, Holly, and willfully disobedient. You’re grounded. No friends, no TV, and no phone for a full week.”

  “That long?” I cried.

  “There are leftovers in the fridge. Eat something before you go to bed. I’ll have a list of chores on the table in the morning.”

  “But, Mom, I—”

  “No back talk or I’ll add more.” She turned toward the kitchen. I’d never seen Mom this rattled before.

  “She forgets how it feels to be a kid.” I let the words softly slip from my lips.

  “I’m gonna tell,” Carrie said.

  “Who cares?” I shot back, taking the steps two at a time.

  Safe in my room, I wrote a heading for today’s journal entry—“My perfect afternoon with Jared Wilkins.” Paying for my deceit with a week’s grounding was even trade for the hours I’d spent with the cutest, sweetest boy ever.

  BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY

  Chapter 13

  The first week of February—seven days of pure boredom! Going to school was what I lived for. Jared was back, and I was his faithful helper—carrying his tray at lunch, sharpening pencils in class, and helping with his crutches in the hall and everywhere else.

  Andie was furious, following us around. But Jared was polite even though it was obvious she couldn’t accept the facts. Jared was my guy now.

  After-school hours dragged endlessly. Even Bearie-O was unavailable for dumping my woes. And when Corky, my old teddy bear, showed up on our porch on Tuesday with a note pinned to his ear, I knew my friendship with Andie was in deep trouble. But I didn’t care.

  Finally the week of being grounded was over. Freedom! Talking on the phone was pure heaven. Best of all, my birthday was getting closer. Mom stocked up on ten toppings and four flavors of ice cream for the birthday bash. One of the flavors was bubble gum, with delicious pieces of pink gum mixed in. I couldn’t wait for the best ice-cream party ever.

  On Sunday afternoon I did fancy cuttings with lavender and blue crepe paper. Everything was set for my party the following Saturday.

  Then on the Thursday before my birthday, I came home to find a note propped against the cookie jar. Holly: Carrie and I are at the travel agen
cy. We’ll be back soon. Love, Mom.

  I poured a tall glass of milk, stirred chocolate syrup in, and grabbed two cookies to nibble on. My imagination ran wild.

  Just great, I thought. She’s planning some exotic travel adventure during spring break while I’m in California visiting Daddy….

  While pigging out on cookies, I began to compose a note to Jared. I was half finished when the garage door rumbled open. Quickly, I hid the stationery.

  Carrie ran into the kitchen, out of breath. “We got plane tickets, and Mom has something to tell you.”

  Is it Paris or Tahiti?

  Mom walked in at a snail’s pace, her face drawn. She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. I didn’t want to look at her. This is some cruel trick, I thought. Does she really think I’d cancel my plans to go with them instead?

  “Holly-Heart.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “Aunt Marla died this morning.”

  I was stunned.

  “We’re flying to Pennsylvania tomorrow.”

  Carrie asked, “Do we have to wear black to the funeral?”

  “No, darling,” Mom said, pulling her near.

  Tears began to trickle down my cheeks. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Your aunt’s pain is finally over,” she said, holding out her arms to me. “She’s with Jesus now.”

  “But…what about Holly’s party?” Carrie asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, dear, we’ll have to postpone it,” she said, picking up Goofey and petting him.

  I pulled on my hair. “Who feels like celebrating, anyway? I’ll let everyone know.”

  The timing was terrible. I’d never anticipated the possibility of a funeral disrupting my thirteenth birthday party plans. Worst of all, Aunt Marla was dead.

  Grandpa and Grandma Meredith met us with hugs and tears at the airport. They drove us through the narrow tree-lined streets to their house. Quietly unpacking, I thought back to the happiest times in this house. When Mom and Daddy were still married, we came for week-long visits here in the summer. Uncle Jack and Aunt Marla and our cousins drove the short distance to Grandpa’s house on the Fourth of July. We kids would make short order of the corn on the cob until Grandpa teased that we might turn into walking ears of corn ourselves. At dusk, we wrote our names in the air with the sparklers Uncle Jack gave us. Daddy and his sister, Aunt Marla, would kiss and hug good-bye. Very sweet.