“Hey, kiddo.” Her father rambled down the third-floor hallway. His hands were tucked into his pants pockets. “What’s on your mind?”
“I have to talk to you.”
He glanced over his shoulder as if there was something in the studio he didn’t want her to see. “Wait here.” He headed back to the studio and closed the door. Returning to her, he said, “Now, what were you saying?”
She studied the lines on his face, especially the deep ones in his brow and around his mouth. Dad had been one of those happy-go-lucky types. But that was many months ago, when Mom was still alive. She remembered how her father used to laugh out loud, even tell jokes around the table till late in the evening. Everyone said it was Mom who brought out the fun-loving side of Dad. Actually, she had a knack for encouraging it in most everyone. But now that Mom was gone, Dad scarcely ever smiled.
“Are you all right, honey?” he asked.
“Not exactly.” She sat on a small director’s chair in the corner. Dad straddled an old, unpainted chair. “Grandma’s going to be the end of me,” she stated flatly.
Eyes serious, Dad nodded. “Elderly people can try our patience at times. I understand what you’re feeling.”
“No, Dad,” she whispered. “You couldn’t possibly begin to understand.” “Kiddo . . . what is it?”
She looked at him, no longer hesitant. “You weren’t there today when Grandma invaded my homeroom.” She recounted the dreadful scene, including the part when Grandma slapped down the lunch money. “She treated me like a baby. She called me ‘Olivia Kay’ in front of the entire class. Oh, Dad, it was horrible!”
He leaned his face into his hands and was silent for a moment. “Grandma means well, honey.” He looked up just then. “You may not understand this, but we need your grandmother, Liv. We need her to live with us.”
She felt the anger rising in her. “Maybe you need her.”
“I think in time you’ll see how important Grandma is to our lives.”
“But for how long?” she asked. “Forever?”
He straightened. “I don’t know how long she’ll stay. But the three of us belong together.”
Belong together? No way! she thought.
“You have no idea what she’s put me through, Dad.” She felt the hot sting of tears. “She’s running my life on the ice . . . and here at home. I can’t focus on my jumps. My Olympic dreams are the most important thing to me. And . . . and Grandma’s ruining all of that!” A burst of sobbing kept her from saying more.
Dad reached for her hand. “I’m sorry you’re upset. I’ll talk to Grandma if you’d like.”
“You will?”
He smiled briefly, nodding. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Livvy brushed away her tears, taking several breaths. “I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
Dad let go of her hand. “Your grandmother has your best interests at heart. I know she does.”
“Then why does she follow me around everywhere?”
Dad frowned hard. “What do you want me to say to her?”
She paused, knowing the first and best thing was for Grandma to go back to Illinois. But seeing the concerned look on her father’s face, she knew better than to suggest it. “To start with, ask her to stay home from skating practice.”
He raked his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I just don’t know, Liv. She has her reasons for going.”
“But I don’t want her there!”
Standing up, Dad went to the tiny dormer window. He stood there without speaking for the longest time. “Grandma needs us as much as we need her.”
Livvy couldn’t believe her ears! Dad was turning this whole thing around. How could he?
Her father continued. “She won’t understand if I’m too hard on her. I’ll have to go easy.”
Go ahead, be hard on her . . . send her home, Livvy thought.
Turning around, Dad said, “Let me pray about this, kiddo.”
She stood up. “You already said you’d talk to her.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “I may have been hasty. You’ll forgive me for that.”
“But . . . aren’t my skating goals more important than Grandma’s feelings?” The bitter words choked out.
“I don’t know, Livvy. You tell me” Dad’s eyes were somber, his face sagged.
She turned away and ran all the way down the attic steps. In her room, she closed the door—even pulled down the shade, blocking out all chance of sunlight.
An overwhelming sadness filled her. She crawled under the covers fully dressed.
* * *
The after-school conversation with Dad haunted Livvy all evening. During supper, she replayed his words. While doing her homework, she saw his disappointed face on every page.
No question, she was an ungrateful jerk. And Dad had every right to ignore her request to confront Grandma. Still, she was frantic at the thought of dealing with Grandma at skating practice or showing up at school. And, possibly worst of all, Grandma’s plan to create an undesirable spring skating outfit.
She decided not to call Jenna and dump on her. No, she’d just suffer through this trauma. Do her homework. Try not to glance up at the pictures of Michelle Kwan or Tara Lipinski. World-champion skaters. Ice-skating legends.
The words that stuck in her mind now were the strangest thing Dad had said: “Grandma has her reasons. . . .”
What possible reason could Grandma have? Except to totally dominate Livvy’s life!
Putting her pen down and inhaling deeply, she made a decision. She was not going to let Grandma control her any longer. If Dad didn’t meet her head on, Livvy wouldn’t hesitate to do it. And without a single feeling of regret!
Once her homework was finished, she crept out into the hall. She listened, wondering if Grandma had already gone to bed. Tiptoeing down the hall, she discovered a light under the north bedroom door. Super, she thought. Her grandmother was still awake.
“Grandma?” she said softly through the door.
Waiting, she hoped for a reply. She wanted Grandma to be the one to invite her in. Surely the best way to start the conversation was to let Grandma make the first move.
But there was no reply.
So Livvy called again, softly. “Grandma, are you still up?”
More waiting. Still no answer.
Gently, Livvy pushed open the door. She peeked around it, not too surprised to see Grandma asleep, sitting up in bed. Dressed in her white cotton nightgown, her grandmother had fallen asleep with the light on.
Must be those early mornings, she thought. Livvy knew the feeling. She knew exactly why Grandma was so wiped out at the end of the day. Often, she was tired enough to hit the sack at nine o’clock. But she was many years younger than Grandma Hudson. No way could the older woman keep such a grueling schedule. No way should she have to!
Livvy slipped into the room as quietly as possible. She would merely turn off the light. Maybe prop Grandma’s pillows around her on either side to make her more comfortable.
On the bed, she noticed an assortment of envelopes scattered around. Some envelopes were empty, the letters lying about. Others had been opened, but the letters were still inside.
She didn’t take time to investigate, though. Grandma was making wispy sounds in her sleep as Livvy turned off the light and tiptoed out of the room.
* * *
Livvy didn’t give the letters a second thought. Not till the next morning when Grandma called up the steps, “Time for breakfast, Olivia Kay!”
That’s when she began to wonder about the envelopes she’d seen last night. Were they old love letters from Grandpa? Was Grandma reliving her past? Was she remembering the handsome young man who had become her one and only love?
She was eager to know. But at breakfast, Grandma was abuzz about the spring skating outfit. She talked nonstop till it was time to leave for practice. “Did you take your vitamins?” “Are you ready for your jumps, Olivia?” “Are you focused on
your program?” Annoying things like that.
Livvy fumed silently on the way to the mall rink. She dropped the notion of asking about the letters. Grandma was just impossible!
Follow the Dream
Chapter Nine
“It’s the first day of spring,” Grandma said in the car on the way back from practice. “A very special day.”
Livvy didn’t respond to her grandmother’s announcement. She wasn’t a little child. She was coming up on the end of sixth grade. She knew what day it was.
The twenty-first day of March had always been a much-anticipated day, growing up. Back when Mom was living, they would go around the neighborhood—leave baskets of flowers or baked goodies on doorsteps. They treated it almost like May Day. But the day belonged to her and Mom, and their super cool tradition.
So far, today had been anything but super or cool. In fact, the first day of spring had started disastrously. She dreaded the practice session, remembering the chaos Grandma had caused off the ice. Coach Sterling wasn’t there, which was usual for a Tuesday. She was coached only three times a week. On the off days, Livvy was totally capable of practicing on her own, minus her coach—the way any other advanced skater might.
So it was a day to solidify her moves and jumps. In general, work out technically. She was to “get the bugs out” by referring back to Coach’s suggestions from yesterday’s session.
But no. Grandma behaved like a drill sergeant—an obnoxious one, at that. Livvy didn’t know what was wrong with Grandma to cause her to act that way. She guessed her grandmother was attempting to make up for Coach’s absence. Whatever the reason, Livvy had come uncorked. She’d come close to telling Grandma off.
Only one thing had kept her sane. Natalie Johnston’s class of beginning skaters had shown up halfway through Livvy’s skating time. Thank goodness they’d come. Otherwise, she was sure she would’ve blurted every detail that was bugging her. Straight to Grandma’s face.
As it was, she did a million and one unnecessary figure eights, just to cool off.
* * *
At school, she thought of confiding in Jenna and Heather during lunch hour. But the cafeteria was so crowded that it didn’t seem like the right time or place.
Most students were indulging in hot lunch on the side where she and her friends always sat. Soon, Manda joined them, too.
“How’s our spring play coming?” Livvy asked Jenna.
Jen was super wound up today. She wore her bright blue pants and sweater outfit. “It’s already half written,” she replied, grinning about it. “Can you believe it?”
“What’s it about?” Manda asked, next to Heather.
Jenna’s eyes twinkled. “I’m calling it Resurrection.”
“So . . . it’s a Passion play?” Heather said, her blue eyes shining. “What a great idea.”
“Yeah, super cool.” Livvy could hardly wait to hear more.
“Since only three of us will be acting in it, I’m writing in two characters for each one of us,” Jenna explained.
“So there’ll be six parts total?” Heather asked.
Jenna nodded. “I think it’ll be very exciting. We also need to discuss the kind of music we want to use for the ballet encore.”
Livvy had almost forgotten about that. “Something classical or from a Broadway soundtrack?”
“How does the play end?” asked Manda. “When Jesus rises from the dead? Or when He’s taken up into heaven?”
Jenna shrugged. “I could go either way. What do the rest of you think?”
“To begin with, we should probably decide how long we want the play to be,” Livvy spoke up. “Most Passion plays are long, at least two hours.”
“Good point,” Heather said, reaching for her soda. “Two hours is probably too long.”
“I agree.” Jenna turned to Manda for her opinion. “How long do you think it should last?”
Manda, who was eating a hamburger, waved her hand. “Count me out of the discussion. I’ll be in Kansas, remember?”
So Jenna, Heather, and Livvy talked out the angles to the play. After a while, it got too noisy in the cafeteria. “Let’s go finish our discussion outside,” Jenna suggested. So all four girls hurried to their lockers for warm jackets.
The middle-school courtyard was a good place to continue their talk. Small shrubs and low-growing plants were starting to green up, and a few pink crocuses had pushed their heads through the cold ground. The place was largely forsaken due to the chill in the air.
Livvy sat on a stone bench and faced the sun. “I like the idea of concluding the play with the women’s discovery.”
“You mean when they find the empty tomb?” Jenna said, pacing back and forth. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, her face lit up. “That’s it! I’ll write the story from the women’s perspective.”
“Only the women’s,” Livvy echoed. “The story of the women closest to Jesus. What a super idea.”
So it was settled. And even though Manda would be gone for the play, she voted, too. “Jenna should write the play just the way she described it,” she said.
Livvy leaned back, looking at the sky, a mixture of blue with a few fluffy clouds. “Can you imagine how cool it would be to have the play outdoors?”
“Cool is right.” Heather laughed. “But this is Colorado, remember?”
“True,” Jenna said. “Things don’t warm up around here till early June sometimes.”
“Because we live near the mountains,” Manda complained, getting up. “Let’s hear it for the high country!”
They were starting to act silly and cheer for their particular state when the bell rang.
“Guess we better call it quits,” Jenna said.
“Probably a good thing,” Manda said, laughing.
“Can you believe it?” said Livvy. “We had a Girls Only club meeting at school.”
Heather nodded, pushing her hair away from her face. “And Jenna’s writing a play based on the Bible . . . with only girls in it.”
“Women,” Livvy reminded her.
“Well, you know . . .” Jenna added.
Heather and Manda linked arms and headed inside. They laughed as they went. Livvy and Jenna did the same.
Hanging with her girl friends had made Livvy feel better about life in general—at least for now. For some odd reason, she didn’t feel the need to dump on her friends about Grandma.
Not anymore.
She breathed in the crisp springtime air. It was the first day of spring. . . .
Follow the Dream
Chapter Ten
After school, Livvy took a rare opportunity to skate for the second time in one day. This time, without Grandma, she thought. It had been ages since she’d had time to work out after school. Usually, she was buried in homework.
Hurrying into the mall’s side entrance, she spied Mrs. Newton having a snack. She was sitting near the rink on one of the wooden benches.
“Hi, Mrs. Newton. I’m glad to see you,” she said, sitting down. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“That depends on what it is,” the woman said, smiling her warm and welcoming smile. “Of course you may. I’m always happy to chat with you, Livvy. You know that.”
She certainly didn’t want to launch off on Grandma. Not right away, at least. And she didn’t want to sound like a spoiled brat, either. Yet she had a feeling Mrs. Newton might give her some good advice. This was the same woman who’d befriended her last fall—at the beginning of the school year, when she was the new girl in town.
Yep, Mrs. Newton had turned out to be one of the coolest adults around. The jovial woman not only owned the Cloth Mill, she was also the cheerleading coach for the middle school. All the students looked up to her because she was so sunny. Mrs. Newton made you feel good about yourself. Which, right now, was exactly what Livvy needed.
“So . . . how’s everything going for you?” Livvy asked, wanting to be polite.
“Is that your question?” Mrs. Newton asked.
She should’ve known the outgoing woman would inquire. Mrs. Newton was like that, eager to hear about others. Good or bad, it never mattered with Mrs. Newton. “Not really, but tell me about you first.”
“Well, my store’s doing well and my duties at school are fun, as always.” She turned to Livvy. “Now . . . how are things going for you?”
She knew the woman would keep asking till she leveled with her. “I’m kind of having some trouble focusing these days.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Newton fingered the tiny silver charms on her bracelet.
“I hate to say anything, especially because you and my grandmother are becoming good friends.”
Mrs. Newton smiled knowingly and touched Livvy’s hand briefly. “Whatever you say will remain in complete confidence.”
Livvy felt comfortable enough to share her concern. “I think my grandmother means well,” she said, using her father’s words.
“Yes, I believe she does.”
“But she’s messing me up on the ice.”
Mrs. Newton nodded. “Only on the ice, dear?”
Livvy folded her hands and squeezed. She didn’t want to lay into Grandma without her grandmother around to defend herself. It didn’t seem quite fair. “Well, it’s tough getting used to things . . . the way they are right now.”
“With your grandmother in charge?” Mrs. Newton’s eyes seemed to look right through her.
“I thought you might be able to help me,” Livvy said softly. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Have you tried talking to her? Woman to woman, so to speak?” The bangles-and-bracelets woman offered a thoughtful smile. “That’s what I would do if I were you.”
Talk to Grandma? she thought.
“She tells me you used to write the most wonderful letters to her,” Mrs. Newton remarked.
“Yeah, back before Dad and I moved here.”
“But you also wrote to your grandmother after you came to Alpine Lake, as well. In fact, your grandma says you ‘poured out your heart’ in some of those letters.”
Girls Only! Page 4