Sometimes Love Isn't Enough

by Lurlene McDaniel

  To Camille, who has been there.

  Text copyright © 1984 by Lurlene McDaniel

  Cover photo by Getty Images

  Back cover photo by Frank Spamer, iStockphoto

  Design by Kelly Rabideau

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 U.S.A.

  Website address: www.lernerbooks.com

  Cataloging-in-Publication

  McDaniel, Lurlene.

  Sometimes love isn’t enough / by Lurlene McDaniel.

  p. ; cm.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58196-048-8

  ISBN-10: 1-58196-048-4

  Summary: Andrea is thirteen and scared. She feels her family is falling apart. She can’t even admit to herself that her parents are divorcing. They say they love her, but she needs more than just words in her life.

  1. Teenage girls—Juvenile fiction. 2. Children of divorced parents— Juvenile fiction. [1. Teenage girls—Fiction. 2. Children of divorced parents—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M4784172 So 2006

  [Fic] dc22

  OCLC: 70013559

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1/15/11

  eISBN: 978-0-7613-7393-3 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-6884-9 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-2795-2 (mobi)

  ONE

  They were at it again. Andrea Manetti sighed deeply. She got up from a sitting position on her bed and stood quietly beside her bedroom door and listened. She could hear her parents arguing in the kitchen below. This seems like a way of life for them, she thought. Arguing. All the time, arguing. It was hard for Andrea to remember a time when they hadn’t been arguing.

  Her parents’ voices grew louder and louder. The arguments were always about the same things— lack of money, her mother’s desire to go to work, her father’s insistence that she stay at home and take care of her family.

  Why do they have to act like kids? Andrea wondered. She bet that her friends’ parents didn’t shout and scream at each other like hers did. She bet that no one else’s parents called each other names like hers did. “It isn’t fair!” she said to herself. “Can’t they see how they are ruining our family? They don’t care about anybody but themselves.’’

  The shouting finally stopped. She braced herself for the sound she knew would come next. The back door slammed loudly. She winced. A few moments later, she heard the car’s engine gunning in the driveway. Then she heard the tires screech as it pulled away. No doubt Dad has left—again.

  Andrea sighed and quietly shut her bedroom door. She knew from past experiences that he wouldn’t be back until very late. Her family wouldn’t have supper together tonight. And nothing but withdrawn silence would come from her mother for the rest of the evening.

  Andrea picked up the newest copy of her favorite magazine and began leafing through the pages. She had stacks and stacks of magazines in her closet. Escaping to the glamorous and wonderful world of teen actors, singers, and bands made her own world a little more bearable.

  She quickly got lost in a story about how teen stars spend their free time. She barely heard the phone ring downstairs. Suddenly, Andrea’s mom yelled from the foot of the stairs, “For heaven’s sake, Andi! Can’t you hear the stupid phone? You know it’s for you. No one ever calls me!”

  Andrea tossed her magazine aside, rolled off her bed, and bounded down the stairs. Her mother scowled as she handed her the phone. “Don’t be too long!” she ordered. “You need to set the table for dinner.”

  Andrea waited until her mother had left the hallway before she spoke.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “So, how goes it?” her best friend, Terri Chambers, asked. “Your mom sure sounds uptight.”

  “She’s just in a rush, trying to get dinner on . . . you know. All that stuff.”

  “Sure,” Terri said. Then she tumbled on in her usual hurry-up style. “Can you come over and spend the night? I mean, we only have about two weeks of real freedom left. We should make the best of it.”

  Andrea brightened at the invitation. She’d love to spend the night at Terri’s, away from the gloom of her own house. She’d be away from the tension and frustration of the evening ahead. Besides, she loved Terri’s home. She secretly envied Terri’s happy lifestyle. Her parents, her older sister, Julia—even Terri’s dog seemed happy and content.

  “I’ll ask my mom and call you back,” Andrea answered.

  “Bring some of your CDs and your new magazines,” Terri replied.

  Andrea perked up. “The new Teen has the best article on John McKee,” Andrea gushed.

  “Great!” Terri said. “ We can lock ourselves in my room and read the whole thing from cover to cover.”

  “I’ll bring my makeup, and we can practice putting it on,” said Andrea. Both girls weren’t allowed to wear makeup since they were only thirteen. But they did keep a secret supply of it and practiced putting it on one another.

  “I could put your hair up in curls and style it,” Terri suggested. “You know, a real romantic style.”

  “That would be fun!”

  “Get off the phone—NOW!” Andrea’s mom yelled from the kitchen.

  “Gotta go,” Andrea said quickly. “I’ll call you later.”

  She hung up and began setting the table in the cramped, hot kitchen. Her mother stirred stew on the stove. “This will be ready in fifteen minutes. Go get Timmy,” she said.

  “Terri wants me to spend the night. May I?” Andrea asked cautiously.

  “Good grief,” her mom said crossly. “You two are already like Siamese twins.”

  “But, Mom,” Andrea pleaded, “school starts in two weeks. We don’t even know if we’ll be in the same classes together.”

  “So what’s the big deal?” her mom asked, scowling.

  “We’ve been in the same classes since second grade,” Andrea said. “In two weeks, we’ll be going to Jefferson Junior High along with about half the town. More than seven hundred kids will go there! I’ll be riding the bus to school. Seventh grade is going to be different, Mom. I may not even see Terri except on the bus!”

  “I don’t want to discuss this now,” her mom said curtly. “Just go get Timmy.”

  “But can I spend the night? Please?” Andrea begged.

  “Oh, I don’t care!” her mom said sourly. “What’s another night alone at home with just the TV?”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Andrea called as she hurried up the stairs to her brother’s room.

  Andrea knocked softly on Timmy’s door. “It’s me, Timmy. I’m coming in,” she said. Then she opened his door and went inside.

  Six-year-old Timmy was sitting in the middle of the floor, clutching his stuffed teddy bear and rocking back and forth, crooning to himself. Andrea dropped down next to him and took his face in both her hands. She looked into his staring blue eyes. “Hi, fella,” she said softly. “It’s me, Andi.”

  “Andi . . . Andi . . . ,” he cooed to her. Timmy was such a beautiful child. She still found it hard to believe that her brother was mentally retarded. He was six-years-old, but had the mental age of a three-year-old. According to his doctors, he’d never be mentally older than eight.

  Andrea remembered when Timmy was two-years-old. That’s when the doctors told her parents abou
t Timmy. At two, he still hadn’t walked or talked. The diagnosis was devastating: “Birth defect . . . moderately retarded since birth.”

  It had been very hard on her parents, especially her father. Andrea often wondered if that had been the beginning of all her parents’ troubles.

  Her mother had worked tirelessly with Timmy over the years. There had been hours and hours of special therapy. Andrea had helped, too. Even though she’d only been eight, she and her mother had spent hours teaching Timmy to crawl. In six months, Timmy was crawling. In another six months, he was walking. When he was four, he started attending a special school. The school helped him a lot. Now he could recognize colors and pictures of certain objects.

  “Andi . . . Andi . . . ,” he echoed.

  She looked him in the eye. “Supper,” she said slowly. “Time for supper. Eat.”

  “Timmy eat,” he said, beaming.

  “Yes,” Andrea said, taking his small hands in hers and helping him to his feet. “Time for supper,” she said.

  Terri was one of her few friends who understood about Timmy. Andrea had been very careful about mentioning him to people. There were always so many questions she couldn’t answer. Now that she was starting junior high school, she wanted to keep Timmy even more of a secret. How could anyone understand? she wondered.

  What a life, she thought. I have a mentally retarded brother and parents who are always at each other’s throats.

  Andrea was suddenly very glad that she was spending the night at Terri’s. She needed a quiet night away from home with just her magazines, her makeup, and her best friend.

  TWO

  “So what do you think? Is the world ready for the new Andrea Manetti?” Andrea asked. She sat in front of Terri’s bedroom mirror and looked at herself.

  She’d taken off for Terri’s house as soon as she’d finished the supper dishes. Her mother had been in a rotten mood, and Andrea couldn’t wait to leave. After she had greeted Terri’s folks, both girls had hurried up to Terri’s room and had begun their makeup session. Now, an hour later, they sat surveying the results.

  Andrea’s light brown hair was piled high on her head in a mass of loose curls. Her face was artfully covered with makeup—pale pink lipstick, shimmering gold eye shadow, and strokes of rose blush. Terri stared at her friend’s image for a few minutes. She tilted her head to one side and put down the can of hair spray she was holding.

  “I don’t know,” she mused. “Do you think we overdid it?”

  They both picked up the magazine and compared the face of a teen star with the one they had created for Andrea. It was close, but something was missing. “Experience,” Andrea finally said. “That’s what’s missing. I don’t look like I have any experience at being a star.”

  “Hmmm . . . ,” Terri said. “Maybe so. But you do look kind of sexy.”

  Andrea stared hard into the mirror and saw the look of admiration on Terri’s face.

  “I could never look like you do. Every time I put this stuff on, I look like I’m going to a costume party,” Terri confessed.

  “Don’t be silly,” Andrea told her. But secretly she was pleased that Terri was envious of her.

  “Let’s try some clothes on to fit my image,” Andrea suggested. The two girls rummaged through Terri’s closet and eventually settled on a pair of flared jeans and an embroidered tank top. Wooden platform sandals completed the outfit.

  “You look good,” Terri said.

  Andrea liked what she saw in the mirror, too. “It’s not too bad,” she said. Andrea giggled. “When I’m a big recording star, I’ll tell the world that Terri Chambers helped create my image.”

  “I’ll bet you will be, too,” Terri said.

  “Will be what?” Andrea asked, puckering her mouth and leaning in closer to the mirror.

  “A big singing star,” Terri said. “Why don’t we put on my new CD? I think you sound just like the lead singer when you sing along.”

  Andrea smiled to herself. Next to makeup, movies, and magazines, her passion was singing. She’d been blessed with a powerful, rich voice that made her sound older than her thirteen years. She’d been singing since she was five, and everyone had always told her the same thing. “With a voice like that, you ought to be a star!”

  So, Andrea had decided that that was exactly what she was going to be someday—a big recording star. She’d been singing in her church choir for years and was in all the talent shows, plays, and concerts throughout elementary school. “You know,” Andrea told Terri. “The main thing I’m looking forward to at Jefferson is that I can take chorus. I’m going to try out for their show choir, too.”

  “Paula Winski says that show choir is hard for a seventh grader to make,” Terri warned.

  “So what does Paula know?” Andrea said with a shrug. “I’ve been beating her out of singing parts for years. She’s probably just making it sound hard.”

  “Hey, I’m on your side,” Terri said. “I think you can make it in a heartbeat.”

  “What do you think it’s going to be like?” Andrea asked, throwing herself across Terri’s bed.

  “Junior high?” Terri asked as she sorted through the CDs. “Different—my mom says she had a blast in junior high and high school.”

  “Your mother would have fun anyplace,” Andrea said, thinking about her own short-tempered mother.

  “That’s true. But no matter what happens at school this year, no matter how much we get separated, you’ll always be my best friend,” Terri said.

  Andrea smiled at her. “You’ll always be my best friend, too.”

  “Think there will be any cute guys?” Terri asked.

  “Have to be,” Andrea said. “The Law of Averages says that in a school with seven hundred kids, there HAVE to be some cute guys.”

  “I hope so. If I have to look at creepy Bradley Johnson one more year . . . ” Terri’s threat trailed off.

  “Well, we won’t sweat it now,” Andrea said with a sigh. Then she added, “I think you’d better get out the makeup remover. I have to get this junk off my face before it turns into zit city.”

  “Yeah,” Terri said with a laugh. “We can’t have tomorrow’s big star turn up with a face full of pimples.”

  Terri slipped a CD into her stereo. Then they started cleansing Andrea’s face.

  “Julia, do you have to read at the breakfast table?” Mrs. Chambers asked her older daughter as she poured orange juice for everyone.

  “Ah, Mom,” eighteen-year-old Julia complained. “Classes start next week at the junior college. I need to figure out my schedule.”

  “Your mother’s right, Julia,” Mr. Chambers interjected softly. “The breakfast table is no place for reading. Besides, Terri’s got Andrea here. We don’t want to be rude.”

  Andrea gave Julia an apologetic smile and took a gulp of the freshly squeezed juice. She bet that her own mom wasn’t even out of bed yet, much less fixing breakfast for Timmy. Guiltily, she remembered her brother. Bet he’s parked in front of the TV, she thought.

  “Here’s breakfast,” Terri’s mom said, setting a heaping platter of steaming hotcakes and bacon down on the table. “Dig in. There’s plenty.”

  “Mom . . . ,” Julia began. “These things have a million calories in them!”

  “Calories, smalories,” Mrs. Chambers said with a chuckle. “You’re growing girls. You need to keep up your strength.”

  Julia sighed and made a big production of taking one pancake, one piece of bacon, and one brief drizzle of syrup. Andrea helped herself to three pancakes and three pieces of bacon and then drowned her plate in syrup. She’d eaten Mrs. Chambers’ pancakes before, and they were delicious.

  “Tell me, Andrea, how does your father like his new job?” Mr. Chambers asked between bites.

  “All right, I guess. But he travels a lot,” Andrea answered.

  She didn’t want to hint about her unhappy home life since a lot of her parents’ problems seemed to center around money and work. Her dad had worked fo
r the factory downtown for fifteen years. So had half the town. Then last year, the factory suddenly shut down. Hundreds of men and women were laid off from their jobs, her dad included. He’d worked his way up over the years and was one of the company’s best workers. It didn’t matter—he was laid off just like everybody else.

  After months of searching for work, he finally landed a job as a salesman. Andrea knew he hated the job. He hated being away from home so much, but there was nothing he could do about it. And lately, whenever he was home, he and her mom did nothing but fight. They fought about money. They fought about work. They fought about everything. It had been a tough year for all of them.

  Terri’s dad was one of the few men in the neighborhood who didn’t work for the factory, so he was one of the lucky few who was unaffected by the shutdown. Andrea envied Terri for that. She knew Terri had no idea what it was like to hear parents yelling at each other all the time. And Andrea didn’t want her to know, either. Some things she couldn’t share, not even with her best friend.

  “Your dad’s a good worker,” Mr. Chambers continued. “Sales jobs can be hard in the beginning. But he’ll do all right. I’ll bet on that.”

  “Yeah,” Andrea said and smiled weakly. She wished he would change the subject.

  “Andrea, would your mother let you come shopping with Terri and me this morning?” Mrs. Chambers interrupted. “School’s about to start, and Terri needs some new clothes.”

  “I’ll call her and ask,” Andrea said. Of course, she’d love to go! Shopping with Terri and her mom was always a lot of fun. Standing by and watching Terri get new outfits for school would be hard, because Andrea knew that she’d have to make do with last year’s clothes. Money was too tight at her house to even think about getting anything new for school.

  “Good!” Mrs. Chambers said cheerily. “You call her and ask, and I’ll get the table cleared off. Maybe we can have lunch downtown at Rinegold’s.”

  Andrea hoped so. It was the best department store in town, and she’d feel pretty special eating lunch there.

  She promised herself silently, When I make it big . . . when I’m a really important star, I’ll come back to this city and take Terri and her mom and even Julia to Rinegold’s for lunch. I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll have special people to keep the crowds away.