Sophie the Chatterbox

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Sophie the Chatterbox Page 3

by Lara Bergen


  Then Kate chewed her hair. Sophie knew she did that when she was nervous.

  “But what if Grace and Eve and Mia find out?” Kate went on. “I don’t want them to be mad. Or feel bad.”

  Sophie waved her hand.

  “Don’t worry,” she told Kate. “Sydney is good at keeping secrets. How could anyone find out?”

  Sophie could not wait to get home and tell her mom the big news.

  But her mom asked her a question first: “Sophie, how was school?”

  Sophie had to be honest!

  By the time Sophie got to the butter-churning part, her mom had to stop her.

  “I’m sorry, Sophie,” her mom said. “I want to hear more. I really do. But you’re such a chatterbox today. And I have so much to do.”

  Chatterbox! Again?

  Sophie was just trying to be honest! Why did grown-ups ask questions if they didn’t want to hear the truth?

  Still, honestly, she was glad to stop talking about her day. She spotted Tiptoe, her kitten, near her feet. She bent down and scooped her up. Then she tickled Tiptoe’s chin. Tiptoe liked that, Sophie knew.

  Sophie looked at the stove. A pot of red sauce was bubbling. It smelled very, very yummy. “What are you making, Mom?”

  “Lasagna. Dad’s favorite. I want to surprise him,” her mom said.

  “Can I help?” Sophie asked.

  Her mom smiled but shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this fast so I can clean the house,” she said. “Aunt Maggie called. She invited herself over for dinner. Again.”

  Sophie’s mom’s smile was gone. She looked at the clock and let out a groan. “What is Aunt Maggie’s problem?” she asked.

  Sophie shrugged and told the truth: “I do not know.”

  Sophie’s mom smiled again. “I don’t, either. I just hope she doesn’t bring any more junk with her. If only she knew we throw most of it out,” she said, shaking her head.

  Brring- brring- brring!

  “Could you answer the phone, Sophie?” her mom asked. Her hands were covered with cheese. “If it’s for me, just say I’m not here, please.”

  Sophie ran for the phone. She was happy to get it. Almost always, her mom or her dad or her older sister, Hayley, answered it first.

  Sophie punched the “talk” button. “Hello?”

  “Hello!” said a very loud voice on the other end. “Aunt Maggie here! Who is this?”

  “Hi, Aunt Maggie. This is Sophie.” She cleared her throat. “Sophie the Honest!”

  She couldn’t help smiling. What a good name she had picked!

  “Sophie the who?” said Aunt Maggie. “Sophie the Olive?”

  Sometimes Sophie forgot that Aunt Maggie didn’t hear well.

  “No, Aunt Maggie.” Sophie sighed. “It’s just me. Sophie,” she said.

  She would wait until Aunt Maggie got there to make her new name clear.

  “Ah, Sophie. How are you, dear?” Aunt Maggie asked.

  “Well …,” Sophie began.

  “That’s nice, dear,” said Aunt Maggie. “Is your mother there?”

  Sophie thought about that for a second.

  “Yes,” she said finally. “And no.”

  “What’s that?” said Aunt Maggie. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t get that. Was that a yes? Or a no?”

  “Both,” Sophie said, as loudly as she could, into the phone. “Yes, because my mom is here. And no, because she told me to say she’s not. But I can’t lie. Because I am honest!”

  Sophie turned to smile at her mom. Her mom did not smile back.

  Oops.

  “Um, I don’t think you want to talk to my mom, anyway,” Sophie went on. “She looks a little mad. And her hands are in the lasagna. And the house is a big mess. And she still has to clean it before you get here. And —”

  Just then, Sophie’s mom took the phone.

  “Are you going to ask Aunt Maggie what her problem is?” Sophie asked.

  Quickly, Sophie’s mom put her hand over the phone. “Why don’t you go do your homework, Sophie?” she said.

  “Do I have to?” Sophie asked. Honestly, she did not want to. Her homework was a word find. Those were almost as boring as surveying.

  “Yes!” her mom said.

  Sophie sighed. She headed to her room. On the way, her sister, Hayley, stopped her. She was in the playroom with Max, their little brother.

  Hayley was in fifth grade. But she acted like she was grown up.

  Max was two. And he acted like that, pretty much.

  Just then, he was running a toy front loader over Hayley’s foot.

  “Sophie! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you. Mom asked me to watch Max for her. But now it’s your turn,” Hayley said.

  Sophie shrugged. “I can’t,” she said. She was happy to be honest this time! “Mom told me to do my homework.”

  Hayley rolled her eyes. “You can do both, like I did,” she said. “I have to call Sam right now and ask him what to do for homework.”

  Sophie frowned. She was confused. She knew who Sam was. He was Dean’s big brother. And he was the boy Hayley like-liked.

  Sophie knew this because Hayley wrote Sam’s name all over her notebooks. And she tried to walk by him all the time in school.

  “But you just said you already did your homework,” Sophie said.

  Hayley made a face. “That’s not really why I’m calling him,” she said. And with that, she lifted Max’s truck off her foot and left the room.

  Sophie sat down and tried to do her word find. But doing homework with Max was hard.

  It was not because he talked a lot. In fact, he did not talk at all. (Which was weird, Sophie thought.) But he made a lot of other noises. Noises like BANG! and CRASH! and BOOM! and WHOMP!

  Sophie was glad when she finally heard another sound.

  BEEP-BEEP! Aunt Maggie’s car horn!

  “Come on, Max,” Sophie said. “Aunt Maggie’s here. Let’s see what she brought.”

  Sophie’s Great-aunt Maggie never came empty-handed. She always came with stuff. It was all stuff from her big, old house. And it was all stuff that Sophie’s mom called junk.

  That day, she had two bags when she walked in the door. Sophie could see them under her shawl. The shawl was as big as Sophie’s bedspread. Aunt Maggie always wore it instead of a coat.

  Aunt Maggie set down the bags. “Hello, darling children!” She wrapped Sophie and Max up in a hug in her shawl.

  Her shawl smelled a lot like perfume. And a little like wet dog.

  Then Aunt Maggie reached into a bag and pulled out a glass bowl. It was full of match-books.

  Wow! Sophie hoped it was for her. She had never had matches before!

  But Aunt Maggie handed it to Max.

  “Maximilian, dear! Look what I have for you!” she said.

  Sophie stepped back. Matches? And a glass bowl? For Max? She did not think that was a very good idea.

  Max reached up to grab the bowl, but Sophie’s mom swooped in.

  “Maybe I should take that, Aunt Maggie,” she said.

  Aunt Maggie grinned and nodded. “If you like it that much, it’s yours!” she said.

  Then she pulled out a plant. It looked pretty dead.

  “Here, Maxy. Give this a little water. It will grow like wild,” Aunt Maggie said.

  Max grabbed it happily and dumped it onto the floor. He sat down in the dirt. Then he scooped some up and ate it.

  Sophie looked at her mom. She had put the glass bowl on a table. Now her head was in her hands.

  Aunt Maggie was already reaching back into her bags. Two more things came out.

  One was a big book. It looked old and had two words, “LATIN GRAMMAR,” on the cover.

  The other was a pin. It was shaped like a big bug. And it was covered, almost, with jewels. (Some had fallen off the bottom.)

  Still, it was the best thing Aunt Maggie had ever brought, by far!

  Sophie was glad she had not gotten the matches. She wanted the bug p
in very, very much.

  But Aunt Maggie handed the book to Sophie.

  “Sophie-Olive, darling, what do you think?” she asked.

  Sophie thought hard for a minute. She was Sophie the Honest. She had to tell the truth.

  “I think … I would like that bug pin a lot more,” Sophie said.

  Sophie hoped Aunt Maggie’s feelings were not hurt. But Aunt Maggie didn’t look hurt. She looked like she hadn’t heard Sophie.

  “What’s that?” she asked with one hand behind her ear.

  “I said, I think I would like that bug pin!” Sophie said again, a little more loudly.

  “You mean this broach?” said Aunt Maggie.

  Broach? Was that like a roach? Sophie wondered.

  “I guess so,” Sophie said. “But it looks like a ladybug to me.”

  Aunt Maggie smiled. “Well, if there’s one thing I like, it’s a girl who’s honest. It’s yours!” she said.

  She pinned the broach to Sophie’s shirt.

  “Thank you!” Sophie said. She felt as sparkly as the ladybug … or broach … or whatever.

  “I guess I’ll be giving this book to Hayley,” said Aunt Maggie. “I wonder where she is….”

  She shrugged and put the book down. Then she pulled out something else. It was orange and shaped like a pumpkin. Sophie was pretty sure it was a lamp. And she was very sure it was broken.

  Aunt Maggie gave it a pat. “This is for your dad. He can fix it up. It will be fun! I hate to throw things out, don’t you?” she said.

  Sophie looked up from her pin.

  “Oh, we like to throw stuff out,” she told Aunt Maggie. “Mom throws out most of the stuff you give us. And my dad can’t fix anything. And Hayley is in her room. She’s trying to get a boyfriend by telling him lies about her homework.”

  “Sophie!” her mom said. She was shaking her head.

  “Sophie!” said Hayley. She had just walked in.

  Why did everyone look so mad?

  “Aunt Maggie!” said Sophie’s dad. He had just walked in, too. “I didn’t know you were coming. This is a surprise! And mmm … smells good! What’s for dinner?” he asked.

  “Don’t ask, Dad,” Sophie told him. “It’s lasagna. And it’s a surprise, too.”

  By the next day, Sophie had learned a lot about being honest.

  In some ways it was easy—hear a question, say the truth. But in some ways it was hard. Sometimes some people did not want to hear the truth.

  And sometimes some people, like Aunt Maggie, could not hear the truth (or anything else, really).

  Still, Sophie had a name, and she had to live up to it. She was Sophie the Honest!

  Or was she?

  When Sophie got to school the next day, that was not what she was called. Not at all. No, everyone was calling her Sophie the Chatterbox!

  It happened almost as soon as she walked into the classroom.

  “Good morning, Sophie,” said Ms. Moffly. “What a pretty ladybug pin. Where did it come from?”

  Sophie grinned.

  “Actually, Ms. Moffly, this is a broach. And it came from my Aunt Maggie. She invited herself over yesterday. She likes to do that a lot. And she likes to bring us junk, like the can opener she gave me last time. But this is much better. And much, much better than —”

  Just then, Toby walked by. His hands were clapped over his ears.

  “Look out! Chatterbox alert!” he called.

  Of course, Archie had to say something, too.

  “Help, she’s still a chatterbox! We’re doomed!” he yelled.

  Sophie glared at them both. Honestly, they were the worst!

  “Boys!” said Ms. Moffly. “That is quite enough. There will be no name-calling in this classroom.”

  Unless it’s a really great name … like Sophie the Honest, Sophie thought.

  Then Ms. Moffly turned back to Sophie. “Well, Sophie, I like your broach very much. And I would love to hear more about it. But it’s time for class to start.”

  Ms. Moffly reached for the light switch. She flashed the lights three times.

  “Has everyone put their homework in the basket?” she asked the class.

  There were a few nods. Some “Not yet”s. A few “Yeah”s. And one “Mine was the first.” That was Mindy. Of course.

  Sophie sighed. Oh, yeah. Her homework. She had kind of hoped that Ms. Moffly would forget about that.

  She raised her hand slowly. “I don’t have my homework, Ms. Moffly,” she said.

  “Oh? Why not?” Ms. Moffly asked.

  Sophie sighed a big, loud sigh. “My brother ate it.”

  Right away, the whole class started laughing … but Ms. Moffly didn’t. She frowned.

  “Your brother ate it? I find that very hard to believe, Sophie,” she said.

  What? Her? Hard to believe? But she was Sophie the Honest!

  “It’s true!” Sophie said, talking faster and faster. “Honest! I started to do the homework. But then Aunt Maggie showed up and I had to stop. When I went back to get it, it was all chewed up and on the floor. And it had to be my brother who did it. We don’t have a dog. Just a kitten. And she never eats paper. But she does eat plants. And Jell-O. Once.”

  Sophie took a gulp of air.

  “You have to believe me, Ms. Moffly. You have to!” she finished.

  Ms. Moffly’s frown went away. A calm smile took its place.

  “I do believe you, Sophie. You can do another word find tonight,” she said.

  “That was close,” Sophie told Kate a little while later. They were walking around the classroom, surveying it with a measuring tape — just like they’d learned about at George Washington’s house.

  Kate held her measuring tape up to Sophie’s bug broach. “What was close?” she asked.

  “When Ms. Moffly thought that I was lying,” said Sophie. “Can you believe it? Me? I’m Sophie the Honest!”

  “Oh, right!” Kate nodded.

  “And what about all this ‘chatterbox’ stuff?” Sophie went on. “Honestly, that has to stop.”

  “Well …” Kate shrugged. She held her measuring tape up to a ruler. “Twelve inches. Exactly.” Then she looked at Sophie. “Maybe you’re both.”

  Sophie had to frown. Both? She didn’t think so.

  “But I’m not a chatterbox!” she protested. “I’m honest. I tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That’s all.”

  “I know. But maybe you could tell the whole truth without talking so much,” Kate said.

  Sophie thought about that for a second. It was a pretty good idea. She was getting tired of talking so much, anyway.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

  With that, she took one end of the measuring tape. Kate stretched it across their table.

  “Four feet,” Kate said.

  Then Sophie pointed to Sydney’s empty chair.

  “Have you asked Sydney about riding horses this weekend yet?” she asked.

  Kate shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “I think I will after school.” She put her thumb and finger together and pulled them like a zipper across her lips. “Remember,” she said, “this is a secret.”

  Sophie zipped her lips back. “Got it!”

  Just then, Dean walked up with his measuring tape. He said he wanted to ask Sophie something. And he wanted an honest answer.

  “You’ve come to the right girl!” Sophie said. Yes! Her name was working!

  “I was just wondering. How come your sister calls my brother about homework every night?” Dean asked.

  Sophie cleared her throat. She could answer this question, no problem. And she did not need to be a chatterbox to do it!

  “Because my sister has a great big crush on him,” she said simply.

  Dean nodded. “I knew it. I saw the same thing happen on TV.”

  As he walked away, Sophie grinned. “You’re welcome, Dean!” she called after him. Then she turned to Kate. “Better?”

  Kate nodded. “
Much.”

  Sophie was ready for her next question. But it did not come right away. Instead, it came just before lunch. She and Grace were at the classroom sink, washing their hands.

  “I hope your mom’s shoes are okay,” Sophie said. She still felt a little bad when she thought about spilling the butter.

  “They’re not. But it’s fine,” Grace told her. “My mom is happy. Now she has a reason to buy new ones. Pass me the soap. Oh, and guess what!”

  “What?” asked Sophie.

  “We set up our trampoline in the backyard,” Grace said. “Want to come over this weekend and jump?”

  A trampoline! Sophie loved those!

  She was all ready to say, “Yes!” But then she remembered Kate and the horses.

  “Yes. I do want to. But I can’t,” she said carefully.

  “Aw, too bad. Why not?” Grace asked.

  Why not?

  “Um …” Sophie froze.

  She wished she could say, “Oh, no reason.” Or “Because my sister has a very important ballet recital. And I don’t want to go. They’re always so boring. But I have to.”

  She was Sophie the Honest. She couldn’t say those things. But maybe she could change the subject.

  Sophie pulled her hands out from under the water. “Paper towel, please?” she asked.

  Grace tore one off and passed it.

  “Thank you,” Sophie said. That was easy ! she thought, grinning.

  “So what are you doing this weekend? Tell me!” Grace said.

  Oh, no.

  Sophie crumpled her paper towel. She thought of Kate zipping her lips. But Sophie had to tell the truth. She couldn’t be Sophie the Honest if she lied!

  She took a deep breath.

  “I’m doing something with Kate,” she said.

  “What?” Grace asked.

  “Um … riding horses …,” Sophie mumbled. “Boy, am I hungry! Aren’t you?” she asked.

  “That sounds fun!” Grace said. “Where are you riding horses?”

  “Um …” Sophie looked up at the clock. Why wasn’t it time for lunch yet? “Kate’s babysitter, Mrs. Belle … her daughter has a horse farm … and we’re going there … and sleeping over …,” she said.

  Grace smiled a very big smile. “Wow! Can I come, too?” she asked.

  Sophie bit her lip. She was feeling hot. “Um, no. You can’t.”

 

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