The Cupid Chronicles

by Coleen Murtagh Paratore

  “You’re so lucky, Willa,” she says. “You’re smart and pretty and people really like you. There’s something different about you, too. Like caring so much about saving the library….” She shakes her head. “I wish I …” Ruby stops in front of the new Sea Spa. She looks at her watch. “Well, anyway. I’m late for my mud wrap.”

  Ruby thinks I’m lucky? She actually sounded jealous of me. What a surprise. But it’s Mrs. Saperstone who is in for the really big surprise.

  The closed sign is up but the door is open. I burst in shouting the news.

  Mrs. Saperstone is standing by the window, wearing her coat. There are boxes everywhere. Outside the whale fountain is covered with snow.

  “We raised all the money. Even more than we needed! I don’t know how much total, but it’s way more than the $10,000 the council said we …”

  “Willa.” Mrs. Saperstone puts a book in a box. She shakes her head. She sits down. “I don’t know how to tell you this …” Her lips tighten as she hands me a letter.

  It’s from Mr. Sivler, on behalf of the town council. “It seems we have miscalculated the extent of the library’s financial dilemma. The situation is significantly more dire than originally projected …”

  Now they need $20,000 by February 15.

  “No,” I say, my heart pounding. “They can’t do this. That’s not fair!”

  I’m late for our Community Service meeting. I bound into the room with the news about the increase. Only a few of the girls are there and none of the boys. “We can’t let the council get away with this,” I say. “We’re going to have to double our goal for January and I think maybe we’ll have to increase ticket prices for the February dance …” I stop when I realize that nobody is listening. And where are all the boys? “Come on, everybody. Let’s do the Bowl-for-Books idea for January.”

  Tina and Ruby look at each other. They don’t like bowling.

  “You know, Willa,” Tina says. “I think we should skip it. Let’s focus on making the Midwinter Night’s Dream a huge hit.”

  “Better than the gym, I got the Mashpee Commons Great Room for free,” Ruby says. “It can hold five hundred people. And Mommy’s flying in her friend, Shirley Katz, from Manhattan, to consult on decorations and food. Shirley plans A-list events for the Trumps and I’ve sent fliers to all the Cape high schools …”

  After school, I stop by Mum’s. From the porch I hear music, a man’s voice, Mum’s chuckle.

  “Willa, what a nice surprise,” Mum says. “How are you holding up? And how’s your Nana doing?”

  “We’re hanging in there,” I say.

  “Come on in, honey. I want you to meet someone.”

  The stranger from BUC is sitting in Mum’s kitchen. Mum’s favorite singer, Billie Holiday, is playing. “It had to be you …” Something smells delicious.

  “Willa, this is Riley Truth. Riley, this is my good friend, Willa Havisham.”

  Riley stands and shakes my hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Willa. Sully’s told me all about you. I’m sorry to hear of your loss.”

  The oven buzzes. “Pie’s ready, Mum says. “You’re just in time, Willa.”

  “Let me get that, princess,” Mr. Truth says. “You visit with your pretty young friend.” He pulls out a chair for me.

  Princess? He calls Mum “princess”? Mum laughs. “Thank you kindly, Ry.”

  There’s a green album on the table. “Our high school yearbook,” Mum says. “Lord, didn’t that bring back memories, Ry?”

  “Surely did, Sully. Surely did.”

  I open the book and begin turning pages. Every face is black. So different from Bramble. I wonder how Mum feels looking out at all that white every weekend? I wonder if she misses …

  “She was my best friend,” Mum says, pointing to a beautiful girl with braids swooped into a band on the side of her head. “Remember Zenobia Portee, Riley?”

  “Hmmm, hmmm,” Riley says, “give me a second … no … Don’t believe I even need a second, hmmm, hmmm, hmmm, ain’t no man in the great state of South Carolina ever gonna forget Zenobia Portee. Hmmm, hmmm, was that girl a sight …”

  “That’s enough, old man,” Mum says with a laugh.

  “Show me your picture, Mum.”

  Mum flips back the pages. She points to a skinny girl with a mad look on her face. “Why didn’t you smile?” I ask.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t like the attitude of the photographer,” Mum says.

  Riley gets a fit of laughing that ends in a fit of coughing. “Oh, Sully, you slay me, you do.”

  On the way home, I pass by Hairs To You, and our hairdresser, Jo, comes out. “Willa, wait.” She puffs my curly side. “Nice. I like it. Can I take a picture?”

  “Why?” I say with a laugh.

  “For the stylists’ album. Another girl just came in asking for ‘the Willa’.”

  “You’re kidding.” I laugh.

  “No, really,” Jo says, snapping a picture. “Everybody’s asking for it.”

  There’s a sale sign in the window of Wickstrom’s jewelry store. My birthday’s next week. January 13. I’ve been hinting for a watch. I go in to take a look.

  The next case over is necklaces. I spot the heart lockets. A silver one with a tiny gold bow on top catches my eye. So pretty. Then I see the one JFK bought for Ruby. I feel like a boxer punched my stomach. How could JFK do that to me?

  Mr. Wickstrom sees me looking. “Would you like to try one on?”

  “No … yes … thanks.” I point to the silver heart with the gold bow on top.

  “Lovely choice,” Mr. Wickstrom says. “Elegant and classic.”

  I open the locket and stare at the two empty hearts. I picture me on one side, JFK on the other. I hear the store door open, Mr. Wickstrom greeting customers.

  “Hey, Willa.” It can’t be. JFK is there with his father and little brother.

  “Hi, Joseph.” I quickly hand the necklace back to Mr. Wickstrom.

  “We’re picking up my mother’s birthday present,” JFK says.

  “That’s nice. Hi, Mr. Kennelly. Hi, Brendan.”

  “Are you buying a heart necklace, too?” Joseph asks.

  “What? No. Why?” My face flushes.

  “Those lockets,” JFK says, pointing. “I was in here with Dad ordering my mom’s birthday gift, and Ruby Sivler came in. She said she couldn’t decide which locket she liked best and could I please help her choose. I pointed to one, I’m not even sure which, and she was all happy because I helped her decide.”

  Oh, thank you, thank you. So JFK didn’t buy a locket for Ruby after all!

  “No,” I say. “I’m not buying one.” I start to leave, then stop. Be a leaper, Willa, leap. I fluff up my curly side, turn around, and smile. “A girl doesn’t buy a locket for herself, Joseph. She gets one from a boy.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Happy Birthday

  There was a star danced, and under that was

  I born.

  —Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

  On my fourteenth birthday I build two snowpeople next to the Bramble Board. One’s a bit taller. They are facing each other. I give them crazy pine-bough hair and set the stick arms so it looks like they’re dancing.

  Mother and Sam have a fancy dinner for me in the private dining room. Tina is invited, of course, and Nana, Mum and Riley, Dr. Swammy and Mrs. Saperstone.

  Sam serves my favorites. Shrimp cocktail, Caesar salad, filet mignon, and garlic mashed potatoes. Nana proposes a toast, like Gramp would have, but when she starts crying, Sam finishes. “To our wonderful, Willa. May this year be your happiest yet.”

  “Cheers!”

  Tina says she has a “surprise” for me. Some friends are getting together.

  It’s freezing outside and dark, but the sky is bright with stars. I’m wearing the new sweater Nana bought me, the new earrings from Mum, and the watch from Stella and Sam. I can’t wait to see JFK.

  Everyone’s waiting for us at the bowling alley. Tina arra
nged the whole thing. Trish, Kelsey and Caroline, Emily, Allison, and Lexy, even Luke and Jessie. Everyone except JFK. JFK and Ruby.

  “I think Ruby probably came down with that flu that’s going around,” Tina says.

  There is no flu going around.

  “Oh yeah, Willa,” Jessie says. “Joe said to tell you he’s sorry but he had to go somewhere with his family tonight.”

  “No problem.” I feel like someone dropped a bowling ball on my stomach.

  Tina, in perfect best friend form, makes it seem like bowling is the best sport ever. After, we go to Zoe’s for pizza. Tina gives me a card that everyone signed. Everyone except Ruby and JFK. There’s a check inside made out to the Save the Bramble Library Fund.

  “Instead of getting you a bunch of stuff you don’t want—you are the most unmaterialistic person we know, Willa—we decided to put our money together and make a donation in your name to the library.”

  “Thanks, everybody,” I say. “This is great.”

  Tina brings out a cake with a mermaid wearing a yellow bikini and sunglasses. I count the fourteen candles in my head. All my friends sing “Happy Birthday,” but the person I want most to be singing isn’t even here. Where is he?

  Tina hands me a knife. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”

  I didn’t forget. I close my eyes. The wishing part is easy.

  Later as we’re walking home, I hear Jessie and Luke talking. “… box seats for the Super Bowl, right over the 50-yard line. How awesome is that? And they’re flying him to Florida in their private jet. Her father is loaded …”

  I forgot all about the Pats.

  CHAPTER 28

  “The Boy-cott”

  Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim

  When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid.

  —Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

  “We have a huge problem,” Tina says at the Community Service meeting.

  Only the girls are here. The boys have all dropped out. “We’ve sold 102 tickets for the Dream.”

  “A hundred and two tickets,” I say. “That’s great!”

  “But only two of them are boys,” Tina says. “We’ve got a hundred girls out there shopping for gowns and only two boys renting tuxedos. We didn’t want to upset you with this before now, Willa, with your grandfather and all, and then it was your birthday, but we’ve got to do something, quick. The boys are boycotting the Dream!”

  “We need a big draw,” Emily says. “Something like Ruby’s Super Bowl tick …”

  Tina elbows Emily and gives her an evil look. I sneak a peek at Ruby. She looks at me. We both look somewhere else.

  Update: JFK went to the Super Bowl with the Sivlers. What Patriots-loving boy in his right mind would pass up a chance like that? What Ruby didn’t plan on, however, was that JFK gave the second ticket to his father. And they didn’t fly down in the Sivler’s private jet. JFK’s Florida grandparents had invited the Kennellys for a January vacation and so JFK and his father were already going to be there. They just met up with the Sivlers at the stadium. Love those Florida grandparents.

  “Kiss and Guess was a big hit at the turkey thing,” Tina says.

  “Well we can’t do Kiss and Guess at a formal dance,” Ruby says. “There’s a certain protocol. Mommy’s friend, Shirley Katz, has an A-list event planned for us—”

  “A, B, C, who cares,” Trish says. “There aren’t any boys on the list!”

  “Okay, girls,” Tina says, “let’s put our thinking caps on.” She motions like she’s putting an actual hat on her head. “What’s going to get the boys there? Let’s face it, boys hate fancy dances. They’re just hoping for some time alone with a pretty—”

  “I’ve got an idea,” I say. Tina and Ruby look at me with little hope.

  “Boys, Willa,” Tina says, “boys. How to get a hundred boys to the Dream.”

  I fluff the curly half of “the Willa.” “Trust me,” I say, “I’ve got a super boy-magnet idea … but I’ve got to make a phone call first.”

  “A super boy-magnet idea?” Ruby is mimicking my words as I leave.

  “Wait a minute, Rube,” Tina says. “When Willa says ‘trust me,’ she delivers.” Tina flips her hair back, done deal.

  Now I just have to deliver.

  CHAPTER 29

  Willa’s Super Boy-Magnet Idea

  We are such stuff as dreams are made on …

  —Shakespeare, The Tempest

  Sam is reading the newspaper, shaking his head when I come down to breakfast. “That’s just not right,” he says.

  There’s another article on the Bramble Library. Mr. Sivler is quoted as saying that despite community support, the council does not expect the required $30,000 goal to be met in time and that negotiations with the town of Falmouth are moving along well. “We believe the residents of Bramble will be even better served by—”

  “What!” I am so angry. “They told Mrs. Saperstone $20,000, not $30,000!”

  Stella is just in from her run. “I knew that Sivler slime ball was up to something,” she says, huffing and sweating. “I read the article this morning and I was thinking about it on my run. I bet Sivler wants that library property. He’s probably got some business venture going. Listen, Willa, we’re nearly empty today, just the Kwans and Kauffmans are left. If you want, I’ll go with you to lodge a complaint.”

  Wow. Stella is taking my side. My throat clenches. “Thanks, Mother.”

  Sam nods at me and winks. “Go get ’em, girls!”

  Stella gets dressed for business. I wear my Bramble A uniform. The law offices of Phinneus T. Langerhorn III are three doors down from the Bramble Library. The green ivy hands wave “good luck” as we pass by.

  Mr. Langerhorn listens patiently as Stella shrieks and I speak but, in the end, he says he’s sorry, there’s nothing else he can do. $30,000 by February 15 or else.

  This makes my phone call even more urgent.

  • • •

  Mama B is delighted to hear from me. She feels horrible about Gramp, but she rallies back when I tell her the news.

  “Papa B, come here,” she shouts, dropping the phone. “We’re going back to Bramble. Willa’s having another dance.”

  I tell Mama B what’s going on with the library campaign and how we desperately need the Midwinter Night’s Dream to rake in some serious money. And then I tell her my super boy-magnet idea.

  “Suzy-Jube will be delighted!” Mama B says. “She won Miss Daisydew USA and she’s on to the Miss American Role Model quarterfinals next month. You’re getting her right between engagements. Let me put her on.”

  Suzy-Jube says “yes” in a Daisydew minute. “Insulted? Why, of course not, Willa, honey. I’m flattered. If you think I can save your little library, well, consider me booked. Bramble, Cape Cod, here I come! Ya’ gotta use it or lose it, Mama always says. Use it or lose it. Now … what do y’all think I should wear?”

  I make up the flyer that night. Suzanna Jubilee’s photo reproduces beautifully. One very lucky Bramble boy is going to win the dream date of his life.

  • • •

  Once the flyers circulate around Bramble Academy, we can’t get to the ticket table at lunchtime quick enough to handle the lines of boys. Freshmen, sophomores, juniors, janitors. Tina’s old crush, Tanner McGee, is first in line, with the Buoy Boys right behind him. Some guys have been camped out since the lunch ladies cracked the first eggs at dawn. They stare at Suzanna Jubilee’s picture and they don’t even complain about filling out Tina’s silly compatibility questionnaire.

  “It’s required,” Tina says.

  “Suzanna is going to be there for sure?” the boys ask. “And the winner gets a date with her, for sure?”

  “For sure,” Tina says, “but you have to answer Tina’s Ten. No exceptions.”

  Tina’s Aunt Amber has agreed to input the data and match the couples.

  When I asked Tina if I could add a question, she hesitated, but then agreed it would be good to have a “ti
ebreaker.” And so we added an eleventh question.

  Mrs. Sivler takes us on the CJ, “a little field trip to Boston,” for our gowns.

  “The committee is not showing up in otters,” Ruby says.

  “Otters,” I say, picturing the animals. “What do you mean?”

  Ruby and Tina roll their eyes.

  “OTRs,” Ruby explains. “Off-the-racks. Absolutely no otters for the Planning Committee.”

  “But, Rube,” Tina says, “there’s really not enough time to do originals …”

  “Sherry Sivler has ways,” Ruby says. “Lots and lots of ways. Trust me.”

  My gown looks like cotton candy. Pink chiffon with thin rhinestone straps and a heart-shaped neckline. Tina picked a black strapless “glam.” Ruby will be red—very, very red. When I showed Stella my gown, she got misty-eyed. “Oh, Willa,” she said. “Sam, come here! Come look at our girl.”

  “I know you think it’s all about Cupid,” Tina says to me, “but aren’t you curious if you’ll be the most compatible with JFK? He filled out the questionnaire, you know.”

  “Don’t fudge the results, Tina.”

  “I can’t,” Tina says. “The envelopes are sealed. Aunt Amber is the only one who will see the raw data. It will all be computerized and the numbers don’t lie.”

  “If we’re compatibly connected, fine,” I say, “but I’m not giving up on Cupid.”

  Tina laughs. “How’s the flying streaker doing these days anyway?”

  • • •

  “I’m taking a break from taffy,” Nana tells me. She’s making a Bramble line of ‘conversation hearts,’ those miniature Valentine’s candy hearts with messages stamped on them. “Seal-ed with a Kiss. Beach-bums. Wave Back.” And in the spirit of saving the library: “You’re Booked. Read To Me. Mark My Words. Write On!”

  Nana is keeping busy at Sweet Bramble Books. She hired a new assistant and Dr. Swammy will be coming onboard when Bramble Academy lets out for the summer.

  Bramble is buzzing about Mum and Riley Truth. They’re always laughing and holding hands. People are starting to wonder if Riley’s planning on moving here.