“Meg is a wise sister. I suppose I’m so used to ordering people at my company to do what I want that I forget sometimes adolescent boys are not employees.” Mr. Lawrence looked sad then, and older than he usually did.
“It’s obvious you love Laurie very much, Mr. L. I’m sure he knows that,” Jo said, trying to make her neighbor feel better.
“He’s lucky to have a friend like you, Jo,” Mr. Lawrence said. “You’re a fine young woman.”
“Thanks, Mr. L. I try to be, but it’s really hard. Sometimes it feels like all I ever do is hurt someone’s feelings and then try to apologize, only to hurt them worse somehow. And all I really want to do is play hockey and write stories.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Mr. Lawrence said. He turned to the door and noticed Laurie lurking there. “Ah, look who’s decided he’s thirsty. Come in, dear boy, and have some tea with us.”
Laurie came into the room, grabbed two tea sandwiches and stuffed them into his mouth at one time. He still looked unhappy.
“Laurie! Good. Listen, I’m sorry I was such a grump before,” Jo said. “You’ve got to stop taking me so seriously all the time,” she added, crossing her eyes. “Have some tea, and let’s go build some grotesque snowmen to scare all the neighbors.”
Laurie smiled and swallowed. “Okay. That sounds fun.”
“Friends?” Jo asked.
“Friends,” Laurie answered.
Mr. Lawrence’s Chicken Salad Tea Sandwiches
Ingredients:
2 cups chopped cooked white meat chicken
1/4 cup celery, finely chopped
1/2 cup chopped pecans
3/4 cup seedless grapes, cut in half lengthwise
1 tablespoon poppy seeds
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon chicken bouillon
1 teaspoon sugar
dash of salt
dash of white pepper
8 slices of white bread, with crusts removed
Directions:
In medium-size bowl, combine chicken, celery, pecans, grapes, and poppy seeds. In small bowl, blend mayonnaise, boullion, sugar, salt, and pepper. Fold dressing lightly into chicken mixture to coat. Chill for at least two hours. Spread the chicken salad onto four slices of crustless bread, top with the other four, and slice into triangles with the help of an adult. Makes 16 minisandwiches.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jingle Bell March
“Home is the nicest word there is.”
—Laura Ingalls Wilder
Jo was determined to make this Christmas merrier than the last one at the March house. She drove Mom nearly crazy asking if they could have a neighborhood bonfire or at least a few fireworks.
“Jo! Stop! There will be no holiday explosives. We can be perfectly merry with our usual traditions,” Mom said one evening as everyone decorated cookies, including Beth, who was now fully healthy. “There are Christmas cards to make and send, and caroling to do, and gifts to wrap, and church. . . . We don’t need to blow anything up.”
“Okay, okay.” Jo sighed. “I’ll cancel my order from RomanCandles.com.”
“You better be joking.”
• • •
Christmas morning dawned unusually warm, and Jo woke before everyone else. Determined to do something extra special, she put on her boots and snow pants and went outside. With the help of the heavy snow leftover from days before, she started building an enormous snowman meant to look like Santa. Her plan was to display the gifts she’d made for all of her family members on his shoulders.
Jo worked efficiently in the bluish light of the dawn, and Santa came together spectacularly, especially when Laurie came out of his house to help, bringing with him a large bottle of red food coloring to complete the effect.
“Merry Christmas, Laurie!” Jo was full of the joy of the day and gave her friend a huge hug.
“Merry Christmas, Jo!” Laurie hugged her right back and began building out Santa’s curled beard by adding snowball after snowball to the behemoth’s chin and chest. They worked silently but happily until the sun came up fully and showcased their efforts beneath the glistening trees.
“He’s perfect, Laurie. Thank you. The food coloring looks amazing,” Jo breathed, feeling Christmas butterflies in her stomach. She quietly gathered the gifts she’d placed on the front porch and perched them all on top of Santa, a pretty Christmas display for her family.
“He’s going to melt by noon. Let’s take some pictures,” Laurie said, and captured a few of Jo standing by her creation, her cheeks rosy. “I’ve got to go back home and open presents with Grandpa, but I’ll come to your house again in an hour or two. We’ve got a surprise for you!”
“A surprise?!” Jo clapped her hands and thought of last year’s feast. “What kind of surprise? I demand you tell me! Is it edible? I bet it’s edible. Is it chocolate?”
Laurie laughed and backed away from her, shaking his head. “Nope! You have to wait.”
Jo ran after him, pelting him with half-formed snowballs as he retreated. “Tell me! Tell me!”
“Later! Go inside and tell your sisters to get excited!”
Jo nearly tackled Laurie, but he was too fast for her this time. She sighed and returned home. When she opened the back door, she was immediately greeted by the amazing smells of burning candles, simmering apple cider, and the sound of Beth playing the piano: “Old King Wenceslas,” one of Jo’s favorite carols. The whole household was fully awake and wrapping paper was already starting to fly.
The Christmas tree, which was always big enough to swallow up the entire living room, was extra-enormous this year and filled with ornaments, glittering lights, and tinsel. Jo loved it and routinely stuck her face directly into it to enjoy its real pine scent.
“Joey! Where did you go?” Meg cried, flinging red and green and white confetti in her direction. “Sing with us!”
“I was outside making something special,” Jo said, grinning and pulling back the huge dining room curtains to reveal her creation. “Santa’s here!”
Amy laughed and clapped her hands. “Thank you, sis. But where are everyone else’s presents?”
Jo put Amy into a loving headlock and ruffled her curls. “Go be a good little elf and bring all the packages in, okay?”
Amy looked at Jo like she was crazy, but then the spirit of the day came over her and she said, “Oh, all right.” She put on her present from Mom, a brand-new pink snowsuit and matching pink boots, and went to get Santa’s bounty and bring it all inside. Jo smiled. Amy had grown up a lot in a year.
Mrs. March was happily sitting in her comfy chair, sipping on hot cider and watching her girls swirl around her, filled with good cheer. They all competed to bring her the best cookies and biggest gifts in the room. “The only thing that could make the day more perfect would be if Dad could be here today. But he’ll be home soon,” she said.
“I can’t wait,” Jo said.
“Me neither,” Beth agreed, taking a break from her piano playing to eat a cookie.
Amy came back inside and everyone opened presents in one big, happy, chaotic tumble. They were supposed to take turns, and Mom kept saying, “Slow down!” but no one could. Instead, Jo stoked the fire, Meg turned up the radio station that played only Christmas carols, and everyone amused the cat by balling up little pieces of wrapping paper and tossing them in Snowball’s direction. He hopped around maniacally and made everyone smile. Hannah and Mom started making breakfast: eggs Benedict, just like last year.
A knock sounded at the door just then and Jo raced to open it. “It’s Laurie!” she cried, flinging open the door. “I’d invite you in for breakfast,” she said to him, wagging her finger, “but you’re on my bad side for not telling me what the surprise is!” It was obvious she didn’t mean a word she said, as the smile on her face was wide. Beth immediately brought Laurie a plate of cookies and a fresh mug of steaming cider.
“You only have to wait one more minute. Look!” Laurie pointed past
the front porch and to the street directly in front of the March house. Mr. Lawrence was parking his large black town car himself. “We’ve just been to the airport,” Laurie said mischievously, building the suspense. “To bring you a very special delivery.”
“The airport?” Mrs. March said suspiciously. “On Christmas morning? But . . .”
“AUGHHHHHH! DAD!” Jo shouted and flew right out the front door without a coat in her socks, into her father’s outstretched arms. He’d just emerged from the car and beamed up at his whole family, now crowded onto the porch and shivering in disbelief. He looked strong and healthy in his National Guard dress uniform, even with Jo clinging to him as if for dear life. Everyone burst into cheers and tears.
Mrs. March put her hand to her heart and looked truly shocked. “But the doctors said you needed another week. . . . I can’t believe . . .”
“It’s a Christmas miracle, honey,” Mr. March explained, his voice barely audible above his daughters’ shouts and laughter. “I told them I intended to get home for Christmas whatever it took, and they relented yesterday and officially released me. Mr. Lawrence here was kind enough to arrange my transportation. I hope you’re not upset I didn’t call ahead.”
“I—I can’t believe it!” she said again, and joined in on the group hug, tears streaming down her face to match her daughters’.
The next several minutes were pure chaos as everyone crowded into Dad’s arms and thanked Mr. Lawrence and Laurie and God and whomever else they could think of. All four girls cried from sheer happiness, relief, and shock. Meg nearly fainted, and Amy tumbled over the last porch stair and ended up hugging Dad around the knees. Beth managed to get closer to Dad than anyone else, wiggling her way past Jo and Meg. It was a touching scene with no dry eyes by the end of it. Laurie was particularly touched and felt like part of the family, hugging everyone.
“It’s good to be home,” Dad said finally, as everyone began to calm down and move back inside. “There’s no better place in the entire world.”
The entire party sat down to eat, with Hannah, Mom, and Mr. Lawrence all working together in the kitchen to make sure there was more than enough for everyone. There never was a merrier Christmas feast than the one that transpired that morning in the March home. The sisters’ words jumbled over one another’s as they filled Dad in on all that he had missed. Each was eager to share with him her latest project, passion, and ’zine issue. He eagerly soaked it all up, expertly giving his full attention to each girl as if she were the only person in the world that morning.
It was possible to see each of the four March sisters in their father’s face. Jo had his big gray eyes; Amy his dimples. Meg had the tilt of his chin and Beth his warm smile. For the first time in a whole year, the family was together, and each member felt their heart filled to the brim with happiness and contentment.
“Just a year ago we were complaining about our bleak Christmas, and this year, everything’s different!” Jo remembered.
“That’s true,” Meg said. “Even though we were so sad you were gone, Daddy, it ended up being a pretty good year, all in all.”
“I thought it was a hard year,” Amy said truthfully. “I’m glad it’s over.”
“It was hard at times because we missed you so much,” Beth explained. “But we found good things to do and we made the best of it.”
“That you did,” Dad said approvingly, looking around him at how much his daughters had grown. “I’m so proud of all of you for working together, making good decisions, and learning so much. I hear that little Beth has become bolder and made a new friend,” he said, nodding at Mr. Lawrence. “I know that Jo has had a poem published and Meg has begun high school, already getting excellent grades. And I think perhaps Amy has grown up the most, thinking of others and being a helper. But more than anything else, I’m proud of each of you for being good and kind sisters to one another. That’s a gift not to me but to one another and one I hope you treasure forever.”
“We will, Dad,” Meg assured him. The other girls nodded as well, thinking about how much they really did love one another when you got to the bottom of it.
“A toast!” Mr. Lawrence said then. “To good health, to family, to country, and to Christmas! May it live in our hearts all year to guide us and keep us happy, grateful, safe, and strong!”
“Here, here!” Jo shouted. Everyone clinked their glasses together and drank to the new year, new possibilities, and new adventures.
• • •
And so we leave the Marches as we found them, at Christmastime, but another year older and another year wiser, with more friends, greater hopes, and big plans. It was a new year, and each sister knew that it would be a great one.
EPILOGUE
JAMB ’ZINE // JANUARY EDITION
UPDATES
In celebration of the New Year, each of our four original staff members has chosen to reflect on the ways in which they have grown. Sources tell us Editor in Chief J. March has not let her temper rule her in months, and is making good progress with her writing. The word on the street is she is creating longer and more detailed screenplays as well as more ambitious poems, several of which will debut in this very publication, so be sure to renew your subscription today.
According to another reliable source, our publisher has declined an invitation to sleep over at A. Moffat’s again, deciding instead to get more involved with her mother’s Community Center on the weekend and spend time with local sophomore B., who is now her official boyfriend despite many objections from our wise editor in chief.
A very important commission has been awarded to our art director, A. March. According to several well-placed sources, she will design and paint a new mural at the downtown Community Center, donating all of her time and expertise to bring joy to the community. Materials to be donated by Mr. March, father of the artist.
Perhaps the biggest news of all is the bulletin that Miss B. March, assistant extraordinaire, has agreed to play piano in a local youth choir recital, which makes both her mother and Mr. Lawrence, her friend, very proud. This is B. March’s first public recital, and will no doubt be a smashing success that leads her directly to an engagement at Carnegie Hall one day.
* * *
New Year’s Ginger Cream Cookies
Cookie ingredients:
1/4 cup soft shortening
1/2 cup sugar
1 small egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup hot water
1/2 cup molasses
2 1/2 cups sifted flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Frosting ingredients:
2 1/2 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup shortening
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch of salt
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix shortening, sugar, and egg thoroughly. In a separate large bowl, dissolve baking soda in hot water. Add the rest of the ingredients and add shortening/sugar/egg mixture. Drop spoonfuls of dough on cookie sheet, two inches apart, and place in oven. Bake for 8–10 minutes.
While the cookies bake, make the frosting. Put the flour and milk in a saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring, until the mixture achieves a pudding-like consistency. Cool. In a bowl, place vanilla, shortening, butter, sugar, and salt. Add the cooked flour mixture and beat together at high speed until it looks like whipped cream. Spread the frosting on the slightly warm cookies and serve. Makes 18 cookies.
JO’S BOOK LIST
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
The Princess Bride by William Goldman
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card
The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien
Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery
>
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson
Ready Player One by Ernest Cline
The Giver by Lois Lowry
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
by E. L. Konigsburg
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury
I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
I first read Little Women as a sixth or seventh grader at St. Peter’s School in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. I was eager to read such a big book and get lots and lots of points on my Accelerated Reader test, truth be told. But I was also touched by all of the March sisters, especially Jo.
Jo stood out to me because she wasn’t afraid to be herself, even if that self was a little different from what people may have expected of her. I admired that trait then, and I admire it even more now.
When I reread Little Women before beginning this project, I was newly blown away by its warmth, insightfulness, and strong, wonderful characters. These are people—Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy, Hannah, Mrs. March, Laurie, Mr. Lawrence—who are simply wonderful to spend time with. They are thoughtful. They are genuine. They make mistakes and figure out ways to fix them and do better. They try. They don’t take shortcuts as they attempt to find happiness and be good people in the midst of everyday responsibilities, and they value the things that really matter, like family, friendship, creativity, charity, and kindness. Perhaps most important, they’re funny!
I love the Marches, and it was an absolute pleasure and dream come true to bring them to life again with this version of the story. My hope for this book is that it attracts you to the original version of the tale. There is something very special about these little women, and I think they exist outside of time simply because they are so human, so fully drawn, and so interesting, no matter the era they happen to find themselves in.
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