Abby's Un-Valentine

Home > Childrens > Abby's Un-Valentine > Page 8
Abby's Un-Valentine Page 8

by Ann M. Martin

“Karen? David Michael?” Kristy said. “May I come in?”

  Thump, thump, thump. Kristy identified the sound. It was a dog’s tail hitting porcelain.

  “Is Shannon in there with you?”

  “It’s Scout,” said Karen. “You may come in.”

  Karen, David Michael, and Scout were all pretty wet, although Scout was the only one actually in the bathtub. “We’re giving Scout a bath,” Karen explained unnecessarily.

  “We want her to look perfect when she gets to her school,” David added.

  Karen said, “Because it’s not easy being a new kid at school. You want everything just right.”

  Kristy was touched. She looked down into Scout’s intelligent, trusting brown eyes and felt a lump in her throat. “Good idea,” she said. “Let me help you dry her off.”

  Several towels later, Scout emerged shining and beautiful from her bath. At that moment, the door burst open.

  Everyone jumped except Scout. Her tail thumped hello against the toilet.

  “What are you doing to my dog?” Andrew demanded.

  “She’s not your dog, Andrew,” said Karen, her chin going up. “She’s a guide dog in training. You know that.”

  “She IS NOT!” Andrew cried in a voice that put Karen’s outdoor voice to shame. “Come here, Scout. Come on, girl.”

  Scout went obediently toward Andrew. Karen was about to protest, but Kristy stopped her. “You should give Shannon a bath too, don’t you think?” Kristy suggested. “So she won’t feel left out.”

  “You’re right!” David Michael said.

  “I’ll get more towels,” Karen volunteered instantly.

  “I’ll get Shannon,” David Michael said.

  Kristy mentally added a mop to the list, realizing that after two dog baths, the bathroom floor would be a small sea.

  But in the meantime, she had to have breakfast. A little damp and doggy, Kristy made her way to the breakfast table.

  “Karen and David Michael are giving Shannon a bath,” Kristy informed her family. “Scout just had one.”

  “Poor Andrew is taking Scout’s departure so hard,” said Kristy’s mom. “But then, so am I.”

  “We all are,” said Nannie.

  Emily Michelle, in her high chair, didn’t say anything. She just banged her spoon on the tray.

  Watson looked at his watch. “It’ll be time to start soon,” he said. Kristy’s mom nodded. She and Watson were taking Scout to the Guide Dog Foundation on Long Island. They had to take the ferry, and it would be a long trip.

  Suddenly, Kristy wasn’t hungry anymore, maybe because of the “good-bye, Scout” lump in her throat. But it’s not as if I will never see Scout again, she argued silently with herself. She knew that after a year, if Scout’s new person agreed and if Scout were living close enough, they could visit her.

  But it wouldn’t be the same, and Kristy knew it.

  She stood up. “I think I’ll go see how Andrew is doing,” she said.

  Considerably more splashing was coming from the upstairs bathroom as Kristy walked by again, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Shannon wasn’t taking to her bath as patiently as Scout had.

  Kristy found the door to Andrew’s room closed. She knocked.

  “Go away,” Andrew grumbled.

  “I don’t want to,” Kristy said simply. “Will you let me in?”

  She put her hand on the doorknob and found it locked.

  “You can’t come in,” said Andrew. “And we’re not coming out. Not until it is too late to take Scout away from me.”

  That stumped Kristy for a minute. She knew that Watson would be able to jiggle the door open pretty quickly, but she didn’t think that would be the best solution.

  “Andrew,” she said, “why do you want Scout to be a failure?”

  “She’s not a failure!” Andrew shouted.

  “But she will be if you keep her locked in with you. She won’t go to school and then she’ll be a failure. And Scout’s a smart dog. She’ll know.”

  “But she’s my dog,” said Andrew.

  “No, she’s not your dog. She belongs to somebody who needs her. She belongs to someone who can’t see, someone who is waiting for her to go through her training, and help that person walk through the world without being afraid.”

  It was a long speech. Was Andrew still listening?

  “Andrew? Let me in, please,” Kristy said. “I promise I won’t let Scout out.”

  After what seemed like an endless wait, Kristy heard the lock click and saw the doorknob turn. Andrew stepped back. Scout was on the floor by Andrew’s bed. “Scout, stay,” Andrew said, although Scout didn’t look as if she were going anywhere. “Come in,” he said to Kristy.

  Kristy walked in and sat down on one side of the chocolate Lab. She began to stroke Scout’s soft fur. Thump, thump, thump went Scout’s tail.

  Andrew sat down on the other side of Scout and put his hand on her collar possessively.

  Kristy closed her eyes and leaned back.

  “What’re you doing?” Andrew asked.

  “I’m pretending I’m blind and I’m waiting to meet my new dog. I’ve heard all about her — that her name is Scout and that she’s beautiful.”

  “And smart,” Andrew added.

  “I’m worried about Scout, though,” Kristy continued. “I know that she had a wonderful family to raise her when she was a puppy and that she had to leave them. I know she’s had to adjust to a new home at the Guide Dog Foundation while she was in school, and I know it was lots and lots of hard work.”

  “School is hard,” Andrew agreed.

  “But I’ve been told how smart Scout is, and how hard her puppy-walker family worked to teach her all the right things, and how hard Scout herself worked in school to be a good guide dog.”

  Kristy paused. Andrew was silent.

  “I’ve decided I’m going to give Scout the best home in the world, because I already love her. I’m going to show her how much she means to me, how glad I am that she is coming to live with me to help me get around.”

  Kristy opened her eyes. “But Scout can’t do all of that if you don’t let her, Andrew.”

  Andrew bit his lip. He nodded slowly. “I know,” he said. He released Scout’s collar and began stroking her head. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Good Scout.”

  “You have to tell Scout it’s okay to go, Andrew,” Kristy said. “It’s very important.”

  Andrew nodded. “I know,” he said again.

  A knock sounded on the door. David Michael said, “Andrew, is Scout in there with you?”

  Andrew put his arms around Scout’s neck. “Yes,” he mumbled into her fur.

  “Yes,” said Kristy, so that David Michael could hear. To Andrew she asked, “Should I let him in?”

  Andrew nodded, still holding Scout.

  David Michael came in, followed by Shannon. He said, “It’s almost time for Scout to go. We should take her downstairs.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, Andrew released his hold on Scout. “Be good,” he said. He stood up and walked to the other side of his room.

  As if she sensed Andrew’s unhappiness, Shannon walked over to him and pushed her nose into one of his hands. Automatically, Andrew lifted his hand to Shannon’s head and stroked it.

  To Scout he said, “It’s not so hard to go to a new home, Scout, if you like it. You’ll like it. You’ll see.”

  David Michael looked at his younger step-brother. Then he looked down at Shannon. He said, “Shannon likes you a lot, Andrew, I can tell.”

  Andrew nodded mutely.

  From downstairs, Karen called, “Scout! It’s time!”

  Hearing her name, Scout stood up.

  Karen called again, “Scout, come!”

  Without looking back, Scout trotted out of the room.

  Tears welled in Andrew’s eyes.

  David Michael looked as if he were about to cry too.

  Then Andrew wailed, “My dog is go-o-o-one!”

  Kri
sty, who was feeling more than a little choked up herself, knelt beside Andrew and put her arms around him. He began to cry noisily into her shoulder.

  Then David Michael walked over to Andrew and began to pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t cry, Andrew,” he said. “Don’t cry.”

  Andrew kept crying.

  David Michael said, “You know what? Since Shannon likes you so much, you can share her with me. She can be your puppy too.”

  As if by magic, Andrew’s wails stopped. He sniffled and looked at David Michael. “Really?” he asked.

  “Really?” Kristy echoed, surprised in spite of herself.

  “Really,” David Michael said. He folded his arms. “But it’s a lot of hard work. You have to help walk her, and clean up the yard, and feed her, and keep fresh water in her bowl, you know.”

  “I know. Like with Scout,” said Andrew.

  At the mention of Scout’s name, they all stopped talking. Then Kristy said, “I guess we’d better go wish Scout a safe trip.”

  Downstairs, Scout was already in her guide-dog-in-training vest, and her leash was on. Watson was taking her belongings to the car while Kristy’s mom held the leash, and Karen and Emily Michelle petted Scout. Charlie and Sam were trying to act cool, but I could tell they were having trouble saying good-bye to Scout too. She sat and wagged her tail and smiled at everyone, her tongue lolling out. Scout didn’t know she was leaving forever. To her it was just another ride in the car.

  “We’ll come visit you in a year,” Karen promised. “Even if you’re in Australia.”

  “I’d like to go to Australia,” Nannie said. She scooped Emily Michelle onto one hip, then bent and stroked Scout’s ears. “You’ve been an education and a joy,” she said to Scout. “I’m glad I met you.”

  Andrew began to cry again. Karen, whose own eyes were suspiciously bright behind her glasses, held up her hand toward Andrew like a traffic cop. “Stop crying,” she commanded. “You’ll upset Scout.”

  And indeed, Scout was staring searchingly at Andrew. She stood up and walked forward and licked his cheeks as he struggled not to cry.

  “ ’Bye, Scout,” he said. Then he tore himself loose and flung himself against Kristy’s leg. She put her arm across his shoulders.

  Time had gone so fast, Kristy thought, staring at Scout. It seemed like only yesterday that Scout had been a roly-poly puppy, full of wiggly excitement and endless puppy love.

  But she’d grown up. She was a dignified young dog now, sleek and beautiful and ready to begin her new life.

  “Good-bye, Scout,” said Kristy, and suddenly that was all she could say because of the lump in her throat.

  “ ’Bye, Scout,” David Michael echoed, giving Scout a last hug. Then Shannon stepped forward and the two dogs touched noses. Was Shannon saying good-bye too? Kristy wondered. Did Shannon know? It sure looked that way.

  Kristy’s mom led Scout out the door for the last time. It closed behind them, and Scout was gone.

  “I have to go find Pumpkin,” Karen announced with sudden urgency. As she bustled past, Kristy saw the shining track of a tear on Karen’s cheek.

  David Michael said to Andrew, “Maybe we should take Shannon in the backyard to play ball, so she won’t miss Scout.”

  Andrew nodded and the three of them left too.

  Nannie said, “I need to get to work.”

  Kristy reached out and took Emily Michelle. She walked to the window just as the car pulled out of the drive.

  “Say ’bye-’bye to Scout,” said Kristy.

  “ ’Bye-’bye,” Emily Michelle said.

  “ ’Bye,” Kristy echoed softly, and watched until the car, with Scout’s noble head framed by the window, was out of sight.

  “My hair is having some kind of attack,” Anna groaned.

  “Your hair is fine,” I assured her (for about the tenth time).

  “You’re sure this shirt is okay?”

  “Perfect,” I said.

  “I don’t know….”

  “You’re a symphony,” I told her. “An aria. A concerto.”

  “A marching band?” Anna asked, suddenly smiling. She looked great.

  I smiled back. “Whatever. Ross is going to think you look fabuloso, because you do.”

  Just then, the doorbell rang.

  Anna jumped and gave me a panicked look.

  “No way am I answering that door,” I said. I gave her a little push out of the room. “Go. Have fun.”

  I lingered at the top of the stairs as my sister went down to meet Ross for their date — if that’s what it was — to hear the Stoneybrook String Quartet play. I’d half hoped he’d bring her flowers or a box of V-day candy, but he didn’t. On the other hand, he did say, “Wow, you look terrific … Anna,” when he saw her.

  Anna laughed a little nervously. “I am Anna, and you look great too.”

  “Thanks,” Ross said.

  An awkward silence fell, then Ross said, “I guess we’d better go.”

  “I’m looking forward to hearing them play,” Anna said. “I heard them at a Christmas concert, and I thought they were very good.”

  “Was that the concert at the Stoneybrook Day School auditorium? I was there too!”

  The door closed behind them and I smiled to myself. Nervous or not, my sister and Ross had plenty in common. They wouldn’t run out of things to say to each other.

  I was right about that. By the time Anna and Ross returned from the concert, they were talking nonstop. When the front door closed and Anna came into the den, her eyes were shining.

  “Was the music nice?” I asked.

  “Never mind that,” Anna said. “Abby! He asked me to the dance tonight.”

  “That’s great, Anna.” I jumped to my feet, flicked off the soccer game I was watching, and said, “We’d better get to work.”

  We spent most of the rest of the afternoon going through both our closets, picking out just the right outfit. Needless to say, Anna was too nervous to eat much dinner.

  “When I was dating your father,” Mom teased Anna, “he would have been insulted if I’d picked at my food the way you’re doing.”

  “But Dad was a great cook, Mom,” Anna said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “And I’m not?”

  “The Queen of the Take-out Menu,” Anna shot back. She wasn’t too nervous to hold her own. “Besides, you’re not eating anything either.”

  “I have big Valentine’s Day plans myself,” I said. “Kristy and I are going to a horror movie and then for pizza. We’re going to see Pepperoni Man, the one about the delivery guy who —”

  “I don’t want to know,” Anna protested.

  “Very romantic,” Mom said, amused.

  “My kind of Valentine’s Day,” I told them.

  The doorbell rang right on time. I gave my sister a hug and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day. Have fun.”

  “I will,” said Anna. “Definitely.”

  After Anna and Ross left for the dance, I grabbed a sweater and pulled it on, bundled myself into my coat, and headed for Kristy’s house.

  Kristy met me at the door. “Get me out of here,” she said. “Both Charlie and Sam have dates tonight and they’ve only spent the last three hours in the bathroom, staring at themselves in the mirror.” She wrinkled her nose. “And drowning themselves in cologne.”

  I laughed and told Kristy about Anna’s big night out with Ross.

  “Excellent,” said Kristy.

  Nannie gave us a ride downtown. In every drugstore window were enormous heart-shaped boxes of candy. One of the florists (not Ross’s mom) had done their display window entirely in red flowers arranged into hearts.

  “The candy will all be half price tomorrow,” I pointed out. “Maybe we should pool our funds and make an investment for the next BSC meeting.”

  “A very worthy idea,” Kristy said, reverting to her Madame President mode for a moment. Then she grinned. “And Claudia will love it.”

  We timed our arrival at the theater pe
rfectly and snagged two seats in the dead middle (that’s a joke, in case you didn’t notice). We had just settled back and begun to make serious progress with the popcorn when the manager walked onto the stage.

  He held up his hands. “I’d like for everyone to take out their ticket stubs, please.”

  I fished around in my pocket and found the stub.

  “Does anyone have a ticket stub stamped with a small red heart?” the manager asked.

  I glanced down. “Oh.”

  “You?” Kristy said.

  The manager continued. “If you do, please come to the front of the theater for a special prize.”

  I stood up. “It’s me,” I said.

  People began to applaud, and a few whistled and hooted. I heard a familiar voice call, “Is it a soccer ball?” and turned to see a row of eighth-grade guys from SMS in the back — including Alan Gray, the most disgusting boy in the class. I made a face and walked to the front of the theater.

  Beaming, the manager produced an enormous box of valentine chocolates. “Just a little something to help you celebrate Valentine’s Day,” he announced as my face turned bright red. “I hope you have someone special to share it with.”

  Alan and his cronies cheered loudly.

  “I do,” I managed to say to the manager, who looked pleased. “Thank you.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.

  Alan and his friends were still cheering and being generally obnoxious as the lights went down and I sank into my seat. The box of chocolates was huge and incredibly gaudy.

  Kristy was laughing so hard that I had to give her a Look.

  “Sorry.” She gasped. “But you should have seen your face.”

  “No one will ever believe this,” I said. I noticed that the bow around the box was made of red velvet. Very subtle.

  The opening credits began to roll. Kristy whispered slyly, “So who is the special person you’re going to share the candy with?”

  “Several special people, actually,” I whispered back. “If you’re at Claudia’s on Monday afternoon at five-thirty sharp, you’ll find out.”

  We leaned back and concentrated on popcorn and Pepperoni Man. Popcorn and a chiller thriller, I thought, free candy and good friends. What more could I ask for from Valentine’s Day?

  With a night like this, who needed Ross Brown or a Valentine’s Day Dance?

 

‹ Prev