They rushed downstairs and into her arms before she had a chance to take her coat off.
Fudge Nut Bars
When the going gets tough, the tough make fudge nut bars. Here’s my favorite family recipe!
—Meg
Ingredients:
Cookie mixture:
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups quick rolled oats, uncooked
Fudge filling mixture:
12-ounce package of dark chocolate chips (or semisweet)
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sweetened condensed milk
1 cup chopped pecans
2 teaspoons vanilla
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Begin by making the cookie mixture. Cream butter and sugar together. Mix in eggs and vanilla. Mix in flour, baking soda, salt, and rolled oats. Set aside and make the fudge-nut filling. Melt the chocolate chips, butter, salt, and sweetened condensed milk over low heat in a saucepan. Stir until smooth, then add nuts and vanilla.
Spread about 2/3 of the oatmeal cookie mixture in the bottom of a greased large jelly roll pan. Cover with the fudge-nut filling and smooth it out for even coverage. Dot with remaining oatmeal mixture. Bake for 25–30 minutes and let cool. Cut into squares. Makes 30 bars.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Single Digits
“True happiness comes from the joy of deeds well done, the zest of creating things new.”
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
“I’m very proud of you, Amy,” Mom said later that morning. It was a Saturday, and the entire family was having a celebratory brunch of waffles and scrambled eggs around the dining room table. Beth was at the table, looking peaked but healthier. Her fever was gone and she was left feeling weak, but still much better than before.
“Of me? What did I do?” Amy was wolfing down her food. There was never anything good at Aunt Em’s, so she’d arrived home an hour before, completely ravenous.
“Hannah asked you to sleep at Aunt Em’s so you wouldn’t catch Beth’s flu, and you did it with no complaint. Thank you,” Mom said. She was pleased to hear that her youngest daughter had thought not of her own wishes, but simply complied with instructions without fuss.
“That’s right, she did,” Hannah confirmed, smiling. She was eating almost as fast as Amy, having mostly forgotten to do so yesterday while she was taking care of Beth.
Amy smiled. It felt good to be appreciated; she was worried that in all the drama she’d be completely forgotten at Em’s. Instead, Mom herself had arrived on foot that very morning to collect her. Amy felt she’d never been happier or more relieved in her entire life. All Aunt Em had for breakfast was high-fiber cereal that reminded her of little sticks and tasted like something you’d feed to your misbehaving pet rabbit. It was good to be home. “You’re welcome, Mom. I’m so glad you’re back. And I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Beth. Never get sick again.”
“I’ll try not to,” Beth said in a quiet voice.
“She can’t control that!” Jo shouted. But she was in a good mood. Beth was going to be fine, Mom was back, and she had good news about Dad.
“When will Dad be out of the hospital, again?” Meg asked. Mom had told them everything she knew right when she arrived home that morning, but Meg wanted to hear it all again.
“Pretty soon, maybe even by Christmas,” Mrs. March said, smiling. “He’s still got a lot of resting and healing to do, and then some rehab. But they have an excellent facility and incredible doctors and nurses. He’s in good hands and he sends his love. We’ll try to talk with him a little later today if he’s feeling up to it.”
“Wooo!” Jo whooped. Her heart felt like it might explode from relief. She looked outside, eager to get out there, do a little shoveling, and maybe take the sled out. Then she thought of Laurie and her enthusiasm dampened. It wouldn’t be any fun to play in the snow without him, but maybe he wouldn’t want to see her at all this weekend. The thought made her very sad.
Everyone at the table had been quite hungry, so brunch disappeared quickly. Mom asked each of her girls to do a few extra chores to get the house back in shipshape order, and they all got to work. To help them along, she tuned the old stereo system in the living room to an oldies radio station and started to sing along.
An hour later, the house was clean and the girls were free to do as they liked. Beth chose to take a nap. Amy took over the dining room table—she was currently into watercolors and needed a lot of space. Meg retreated to her room to read; she was deep into a juicy dystopian novel and wanted to finish it. Jo started following Mom around the house, first down to the basement, where she helped her sort the giant pile of laundry into lights and darks, and then up to Mom’s room, where she helped her unpack.
“I’m surprised you’re not outside, dear,” Mom said casually.
“Yeah, I really need to shovel the sidewalk,” Jo said. Shoveling had always been her job.
Mom didn’t say anything more and waited.
“But I think Laurie is mad at me, and I’m worried I’ll go out there and I’ll see him in his window and he won’t come out.”
Mom nodded. “Sometimes being good friends with your neighbors can be challenging,” she said.
“Yup.”
“So do you think you’ll be inside all day? I could use some help writing thank-you notes to all the people who sent your father flowers. I think I need to write almost forty of them,” Mom added. She knew that writing thank-you notes was one of Jo’s least-favorite tasks. She liked it even less than going to the mall to buy new school clothes.
“Oh,” Jo said, looking stricken. “No, I’m sure Meg could help you with those. I think I’ll go shovel after all.”
“Okay. Thanks, dear. And if Laurie doesn’t come out today, don’t worry too much. He can’t stay inside forever, and I’m sure you two will make up before too long. Friendship like yours is special, and I think he knows that.”
Jo sighed and went into her room to change into warmer clothes. Then she put on snow pants, her coat and other gear, and went outside, determined to shovel the sidewalk as quickly as possible and avoid thinking about the sledding hill.
She worked ferociously, feeling like she’d been cooped up and was now freed. The fluffy snow didn’t stand a chance against her efforts. Within thirty minutes, the sidewalk was cleared. Jo carefully spread a thin layer of rock salt over the whole length as well, thinking about the few elderly neighbors nearby who liked to walk their Goldendoodles every day and wouldn’t be able to manage if things melted and got slippery.
“Hey, March!” Jo’s head snapped up. Laurie! As he got closer, dressed head to foot in a fancy snowsuit, Jo saw that he was towing his sled. She thought about the fact that Laurie had never called her by her last name before. It sounded strange, as if he was trying to put distance between them, but she was just glad he’d come outside and sounded not-unfriendly.
“Laurie! Hi!” She quickly returned the bucket of rock salt to its place on the front porch and ran over to greet him.
“Can you believe that blizzard?” He gestured all around them to the huge piles of snow. It was nearly impossible to see out into the street as the banks were that high.
“I know. It was crazy. We were up half the night with Beth, but she’s feeling better this morning. And my mom is home!”
“Oh, good,” Laurie said. Jo searched his face for a sign of where she stood, but it seemed like he was determined to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. It made her feel both relieved and uneasy. She wanted to be sure things were okay.
“Laurie . . .”
“Jo, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked you to the dumb dance. It was too soon; you still think boys have cooties, even me.”
Jo laughed. But she saw a hint of something in Laurie’s little speech that bothered her: He thought the problem was just timing, and she knew it wasn’t. “I’m sure you’re coated in cooties” was all she could say. It felt good to stand on solid ground, but Jo knew Laurie’s declaration was still there, just waiting to appear again.
“Let’s sled!” he cried. “Race you!”
Jo hesitated for one second, then ran to the garage to grab her own saucer before running—or rather, wading—through the deep snow after him. It was true that Jo had decided, then, to let Laurie have hope about the two of them and whatever silly future he imagined. It might have been a mistake not to set him completely straight, but it felt too messy, and Jo didn’t know how to fix it. She just wanted to sled.
So that’s what they did.
Mrs. March’s Thank-You Note Tips
When to write them:
• you’ve received a gift from someone
• you’ve enjoyed someone’s hospitality or visit
• you’ve had a job interview
• someone helped you
How to write them:
• be specific: explain why the gift or gesture made you happy
• be brief: a few sentences are just fine
• be personal: handwritten is best!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chilly Mischief
“A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.”
—Roald Dahl
Beth continued to feel better and better until her cough disappeared altogether. The March girls were so grateful to receive news of their father’s improving health that they all acted like angels right through Thanksgiving and into December, doing the household chores, turning in their homework on time, and helping Mom at the Community Center on the weekends. The holidays were a busy time for her, with more donations than usual, but also more people in need as the weather continued to plunge below zero.
As the days grew shorter and shorter, the girls began to feel a little restless. They were waiting for Dad to get home, and it was difficult to stay patient because the doctors wouldn’t say when he’d be released. Everyone was dreading the beginning of the week. There were lots of tests coming up, and the weather was forecast to be extra miserable.
“Can’t we just go to him?” Amy asked Mom nearly every day. “I’m sure the minivan could make it. It’s not that far.”
“It is that far,” Mom said. “And besides, I can’t take more time away from the Center, and you all have school. He’ll be home before we know it. Until then, it’s our job to be patient and keep sending him our notes and gifts and love.”
“What’s this?” Jo said, picking up a dog-eared envelope lying half under the front hall rug one Sunday afternoon. The girls were scattered around the living room, and Mom was out in the garage, unsuccessfully trying to start an ancient snow-blower that had been given to her by one of her coworkers who’d recently moved into a condo.
The envelope looked like it had been there a while, dusty and rippled from being wet and drying again. “Did this fall out of the mail? There’s no stamp or address.”
“Weird,” Meg said, snatching it away from her and opening it. “Huh, it’s for me.”
Dear Meg,
Would you like to see a movie with me sometime? We could split some nachos. I think you are the prettiest girl I ever saw in my life.
[ ] YES [ ] NO
—Brooks
Meg blushed a deep shade of red and showed the note to Jo, who immediately started laughing. Amy and Beth rushed over and began giggling, too. They all tried to stop when they noticed Meg’s horrified face, but only Beth was successful.
“Oh Meg, I think it’s sweet,” she said. “He’s finally asking you out. Hasn’t he liked you since summer?”
“Meg and Bro-ooks sitting in a tree,” Amy sang. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
“I don’t think he’s the one who wrote this,” Meg said, ignoring Amy, who was prancing around her like a demented fairy, continuing to sing her taunt in an off-key warble. “Someone’s making fun of me. Was it you, Joey?”
“Me! No!” Jo vehemently denied the charge. She almost wished she had written the silly note, because she had a feeling she knew who had.
“I don’t believe you,” Meg said, glaring at her younger sister.
“I swear! I didn’t write it!” Jo shook her head. “I bet it was Laurie. He’s mad at me for saying I wouldn’t go to his school dance with him, but pretending he’s not. He’s getting back at me. I’ll punch his lights out!”
“Whoa, slow down there, champ.” Mom entered the hallway then, drawn by the commotion. “What’s going on?”
Meg showed Mom the note and Jo explained it was a prank. Just then, the doorbell sounded, making them all jump.
Mom opened the door to see Laurie himself, holding a can of oil.
“Grandpa heard someone struggling with a snow-blower and said to bring this over,” he explained, handing Mrs. March the oil. “He said it works miracles.”
“Thank you, Laurie,” Mrs. March said kindly. “That’s very nice of you.” She barely got the words out before Jo got right in their visitor’s face with Meg’s note.
“Did you write this?” she demanded, waving it at him. He immediately looked guilty. “AHA!” she cried. “Caught you!”
Mom ushered Amy and Beth into the kitchen so Meg and Laurie could talk. She shot Jo a look as she retreated as well. A look that said: Go easy on him.
Laurie felt badly when he saw how deeply Meg was blushing. She was such a nice girl, and much more delicate than Jo. “Look, Meg. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. It’s just that Brooks goes on and on and on about you when he’s supposed to be tutoring me. He gets up from the table every half second to try to catch a glimpse of you. I just thought I’d put him out of his misery by trying to get you guys to actually admit you like each other. Is that so bad?”
“Since when are you a matchmaker?” Jo said, annoyed. “Meg’s love life isn’t your business! Have you been watching reality TV or something? Why are you being so weird lately?”
“I know, I know,” Laurie said. “I’m really sorry.”
Jo was impressed with Laurie for not getting defensive. She immediately forgave him, seeing how sorry he really did look. Meg did too.
“It’s okay. I guess if Brooks weren’t so shy, he would’ve asked me himself,” Meg said. “But his shyness is something I like about him. Don’t tell him this happened, okay? It’s embarrassing.”
“I promise I won’t,” Laurie said solemnly. “But you should come over sometime when he’s at my house, okay? You two can be shy and mushy together, and I’ll be free to play video games. Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon.”
“Maybe I will,” Meg said, unable to conceal the thrill in her voice. She’d been wanting an excuse to see Brooks, but couldn’t figure out how to pull it off without being awkward since they went to different schools. She almost felt like hugging Laurie. Instead, she happily bounced up the stairs to her room, where she planned to try a new kind of braid in her hair.
“Well, Meg has forgiven you, but that doesn’t mean I have,” Jo said with finality. “Go away.”
Laurie nodded, looking hurt, and trudged back to his house, leaving the oil can behind for Mrs. March.
Jo immediately felt she’d been too harsh and thought back to the day all those many months ago, when her temper had flared at Amy and she’d been so very, very sorry about it. After pacing around in her attic for only twenty minutes, she grabbed a book she’d borrowed from Mr. Lawrence and decided to go make up with her best friend.
After Jo rang the Lawrence doorbell twice, the large front door was opened by Mr. Lawrence’s housekeeper, Riva, which was unusual.
“Uh, is Laurie around?” Jo asked, uncertain.
“He is, but he’s sulking in his room,” Riva answered. “I think he had an argument with his grandfather. But you can go up and check
on him if you like.”
Jo nodded and bounded up the stairs. She knocked on Laurie’s door and only got a gruff “Go away!” in reply.
“Laurie, it’s me!” she said through the door. “Let me in!”
“No way,” came the reply.
Jo sighed and walked back down the stairs, trying to figure out how to cheer up Laurie if he wouldn’t even see her. When she passed Mr. Lawrence’s office, she heard her old friend’s voice.
“Miss March? Is that you?”
Jo poked just her head into the room, unsure whether to enter. “Yes. But I was just going. I guess Laurie and I are in a fight,” she added, frowning.
“Well, that makes two of us. Come in and have some tea with me.” Mr. Lawrence rose from his large, intimidating desk and walked to his sideboard, where an elaborate tea service was set up, complete with a newly brewed pot of something that smelled like nutmeg, and an extra cup. There were also pretty little tea sandwiches arranged in a circle on a platter next to the pot. He poured Jo a cup and, remembering how she liked her tea, added a cube of sugar and a generous pour of cream. He also placed two tasty tea sandwiches on her saucer.
“Thank you, Mr. L.,” Jo said, taking a big sip. “This is really good.”
“You’re welcome, Miss March. Now, tell me what’s going on with our boy. He came home a half hour ago in a foul mood and refused to explain himself. When I tried to make him talk, he disappeared into his room, and there he stays. I have half a mind to turn off the Wi-Fi in this house once and for all!”
Jo smiled at this. Her house didn’t even have Wi-Fi, ever, because Dad said he didn’t believe in it. “He’s mad at me because . . . well, I’m not really sure why. I guess I was a little mean to him when he came over to our house before with the oil can. Boys are very sensitive, you know.”
Mr. Lawrence smiled. “You always charm me, Miss March. Boys are very sensitive indeed. I just wish he’d talk to me when something’s bothering him.”
“I tell my sister Meg everything,” Jo offered. “But I never would if she tried to make me do it. She’s very good at waiting until I’m ready to ’fess up about what’s on my mind.”
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