Letters from the Heart (18 page)

“What do you think, Carol?” Ross asked, his eyes on hers.

Maeve's mother shrugged. “It's a previous commitment. A responsibility to someone else. I'm okay with it, Maeve, as long as you're back home by nine o'clock. But no activities outside the house tomorrow.”

Maeve's father nodded. “I'm fine with that as well. And
tomorrow during the day, Maeve, you can help me unpack.”

Maeve nodded dumbly. She didn't really want to think much about tomorrow. It was horrible having her parents so mad at her. But they were her parents. They had to forgive her—one day. What about her friends? How was she ever going to be able to explain to them what had happened? Why she'd lied…to everyone.

 

“You sure you won't go to bed?” her father asked her. It was almost twelve thirty, but Maeve didn't feel ready for bed yet. And it wasn't just the prospect of that bunk bed, either.

“I'll go soon. See you in the morning, Dad,” Maeve said.

She started flipping absently through one of the scrapbooks that her father had left on the coffee table. He was still unpacking, and this was one that Maeve hadn't seen before. It looked old.

The front half of the book was filled with faded black-and-white photographs. Her father was a little boy in most of them. Maeve had seen some of these before, and she recognized them right away. Her father at the zoo with her grandfather. Her father sitting in front of a birthday cake shaped like a train. It made her feel a little funny, turning the pages and watching her father's boyhood unfold before her. There was so much the little boy in these pictures didn't know yet. He didn't know that he would fall in love one day with Maeve's mom. That they would have children together, that one day they would decide to separate.

Maeve dashed away a tear. She was beginning to recognize something. Her parents' decision to separate really mattered to her. A lot. That didn't mean she was going to be able to change it or make it better. Trying to be a “model daughter” wasn't the answer either. But neither was thinking that she could make up her own rules and turn her back on her values. She needed to—how had Avery put it?—“take care of herself.”

Maeve kept turning the pages. At the back of the album she found a packet of yellowing letters tied with a black ribbon.

Love letters! Maeve thought. Maybe her father had written love letters to her mom…But even as she thought this, her eye fell on the signature at the bottom of the first letter.
Ma
. In pale, spidery script, slanted and elegant. They were from Nana to Daddy.

Her father had glued one letter carefully into the back of the album. It was a short letter, beautifully penned. Maeve read it slowly.

Maeve traced the letters with her fingers, mouthing the words as she read. She could almost feel her grandmother writing these words to her, through her father, as if her grandmother had reached across the generations to hold her hand and offer her guidance. Maeve didn't feel quite so worried about her friends anymore. She would find a way to explain to them, just as her father had suggested. More important, she had learned a lesson—one that she wouldn't forget. And how had her father put it? Sometimes you need to make mistakes in order to figure out what to do in the future. Anyway, now the future was up to her.

Avery's Blog

Saturday afternoon, two catering trucks were parked in front of Avery's house when she got back from soccer practice. A woman was setting up folding chairs in the dining room and another was deep in discussion with Avery's mother in the kitchen.

Her mother called “hello” to Avery but was clearly distracted. “You'll have to forgive me, honey,” she said. “We're in the final stages of planning for tonight. Go ahead and make yourself a snack. We should be done in about half an hour.”

Avery dumped her soccer bag in the front hall and began to race upstairs. She had to clean the guinea pig cage and she had to find Beckham. This was getting serious. Suddenly, she turned around and headed downstairs to the kitchen where Carla was working on the famous Caesar salad, the only thing she had to make for tonight since the caterers were doing the rest. Carla didn't usually help out on Saturday, but she'd come in today to help Avery's mom.

Avery got some newspapers from the recycling bin. And some large scissors to shred them with from the kitchen drawer. Carla was looking at her strangely. Avery knew that taking trash back into the house just before a party was not something Carla approved of.

“I have to clean their cages,” Avery said to Carla.

“The little rodent cages?” Carla clearly did not approve of Avery's adopted pets.

“They're guinea pigs,” Avery said, offended. “And their names are Hamm and Beckham.”

“Ham…back-ham…pigs should be bacon, not pets,” Carla said.

When Avery reached her room, it was in better shape than she thought it would be. Carla had done her usual
magic. She had cleaned everything—except the cage. Avery was relieved to see it sitting in the corner, untouched, and rodent or bacon, Carla had left Hamm alone.

Was it possible, or did Hamm actually seem excited to see her? As Avery approached the cage, Hamm sniffed the bars and rolled on her back. It made her laugh. Hamm had real talent. She was going to have to remember to talk to Maeve about letting her continue to coach her. And Beckham, She was great. She could be a stunt guinea pig in some movie or something! If she could just find her. She wasn't completely panicked yet because she had seen an article on the Internet about a guinea pig that was found after being lost for three months in the backyard.

Avery was still thinking about the article as she cleaned the cage, laying down the new shredded newspaper—sports pages and entertainment sections only. She checked her watch as she went. Only a half hour until people started to get here. Maybe she could still find Beckham.

Avery swallowed hard. But what if she couldn't? How was she going to tell Maeve she'd lost one of her guinea pigs? Her poor friend was already traumatized, as her weird behavior the night before plainly demonstrated. And on top of all of that, now she was going to have to find out Beckham was gone!

Avery decided another search was in order. She looked everywhere—even in the basement. But there was still no sign of a guinea pig. Nothing.

She bumped into Carla, on her way up from the laundry room with table linens.

“Uh, Carla?” asked Avery. “You haven't seen any little creatures running around down here, have you?”

Carla stared at her. “Little creatures?” she repeated. “If
you mean that little guinea pig of yours, yes, I saw her, but not down here.”

Avery jumped up and down, throwing her arms around Carla. Beckham was saved!

Carla tried to keep the laundry from toppling over. “She's right in your closet. I didn't think you wanted your mother to find out,” she added. “So I kept the door closed. Did I do the right thing?”

“Carla, you are my savior.” Avery gave her another hug and ran right upstairs.

Avery ran upstairs two at a time and burst into her room. Disaster. Her closet door was open. Darn! She forgot she had opened it to put her gear away. And to top it all off she had left her bedroom door open. Beckham could be anywhere by now. Maybe she just wasn't meant to have pets. First the Marty fiasco and now this. The girls were going to be here any minute. She was going to have to tell Maeve the truth, and ask her friends for help. At least Beckham was in the house. She hoped.

S
AVED BY THE
B
ELL

Isabel, Charlotte, and Maeve were waiting for Avery at the door.

Avery's mother had called all the parents with a personal invitation for their daughter to come to the event. Maeve's father felt it would be rude for Maeve not to attend. Maeve's mind wasn't on guinea pigs though. “Where is Katani? Is she still mad at me?” Maeve asked nervously. “I am so sorry about all of this. Really, I am. I just don't know how to make everything right.”

Avery cleared her throat. Maybe this wasn't the best moment to further destroy Maeve's life by telling her about Beckham. On the other hand…well, Maeve was going to find
out for herself in about five minutes, when she looked in the guinea pigs' cage upstairs and noticed there was exactly ONE little guy in there. Not two. Avery took a deep breath.

“Speaking of things not being right,” she said, trying for the right tone. Somehow it didn't come out very well though. She sounded a little too flippant. “Uh…Maeve,” she said, when everyone turned to stare at her. “I have good news…and bad news.”

“I could use some good news,” Maeve said, looking at her. “I'm not sure I'm all that psyched for more bad news.”

“Well,” Avery said quickly, “here's the good news. Hamm is doing just great. And she really seems to like having a bit more extra room in her cage.”

“Hamm?” Maeve repeated blankly, staring at her.

“Uh…yeah. Ben. Or Jen, I'm not sure which one it is. But I renamed them, see, after Mia Hamm and David Beckham. My two favorite soccer stars.”

“That's so cute,” said Charlotte.

“Hamm,” Maeve repeated slowly. She was still staring at Avery. “Hamm…likes having more space? That's the good news?” She looked horrified. “Avery, what's the bad news? What happened to the other one? Beckett?”

“BECKHAM,” Avery corrected her. “You know,
Bend It Like Beckham
?”

Maeve was starting to turn red again. “What happened to him? I mean her? Avery, I trusted you! My guineas are like my…my…babies,” she sputtered.

“Calm down,” Avery whispered. The caterers were turning around to stare at them. “I'm sure she's perfectly fine. It's just…well…I don't know exactly where she is, that's all.”

“You LOST my guinea pig?” Maeve shrieked. “Avery, how could you?”

“I swear, all I did was turn around for one tiny second. I had them both out of their cage so they could run around a little. You told me they NEED exercise,” Avery defended herself. “And my mom came in to talk to me, and she must've sneaked out while we were talking. The door was barely open a CRACK. Then Carla found her and put her in the closet, but I didn't know that…I left the closet door open…I'm sorry.”

Maeve calmed down enough to think for a minute. “That sounds like Ben,” she admitted. “I told you—she's an escape artist. But you should've been watching!” she scolded.

“Look, I'm sorry,” Avery cried. “It's not like ANY of us is perfect,” she added defensively, shooting Maeve a look.

Maeve didn't say anything. She just stood silent.

“That's not fair, Avery,” Isabel added sharply.

“You're right. I've just been so worried,” stammered Avery. “Maeve, I've looked everywhere. But I can't seem to find her! My mom's been so focused on this dinner party tonight…there's all these caterers setting up for it…I'm scared someone's going to leave the door open…and she'll escape.”

This was a terrible thought to contemplate. What a really bad weekend.

“Maeve,” she said miserably, hanging her head, “I've totally failed you. I swear, once we find Beckham, I'm not going to beg my mom for a pet anymore. And I'll figure out some way to make this up to you…and Beckham. I promise!”

When Maeve saw how miserable Avery looked, she couldn't stay mad at her. She knew what it was like to make a big mistake. “Let's just find her, Avery,” Maeve said. She assured her, “she's done the same thing with me. I had a friend who lost a guinea pig once for three weeks. It was so fat that it got stuck behind a piece of furniture and couldn't
get out until it lost weight. Then it squeezed out. Let's just see if we can find her. Okay?”

“She's probably under the eaves somewhere,” Maeve said. “Or in a closet or under a bureau,” Maeve suggested. “She likes small spaces.”

“Don't worry,” Charlotte said to them both. “We'll find her as soon as the party is over.”

Avery looked at herself in the mirror with a groan. “WHY?” she wailed. “Why would anyone possibly think that dressing like this is a good idea?”

That broke the tension for the moment.

Maeve and Isabel exchanged amused glances. Avery managed to make her navy skirt and white sweater look like a suit of armor. She stood stiffly, arms out at her sides, a pinched and miserable look on her face. The way she walked suggested that her feet—in flats—were already killing her, and they hadn't even left her bedroom yet.

They could hear the caterers busily setting up for dinner downstairs. Avery's mother was rushing around like crazy, trying to finish getting dressed while calling out last-minute instructions about what needed to go where. Apparently Mr. Jameson, the big benefactor whom they were trying so hard to impress, was supposed to be seated at the head of the table, with Avery's mother right at his side. The girls were way down at the other end with Scott.

“Avery! Have you seen the dining room? It looks like a really fancy restaurant in there!” Maeve exclaimed. Unlike Avery, Maeve loved fancy parties and getting dressed up. If it weren't for her worries about Katani and Beckham, this would be Maeve's idea of a perfect evening.

Speaking of Katani, she was walking toward them. “Hi. I'm sorry I'm late. My mother had to drop off a brief to a
client. What's up?” She looked at everyone but Maeve. Maeve had the impression that Katani was trying to pretend she wasn't there. She wouldn't even catch Maeve's eye.

Distracting herself, Maeve picked up a piece of paper from Avery's desk. “What's this?”

“Oh…” Avery said mournfully, picking it up and studying it. “It's some information I downloaded from Google on guinea pigs. Did you know that they're descendants of South American rodents, and that they have three distinct sounds—a whistle, a purr, and a squeal?”

Maeve looked sad. “Poor Ben,” she said.

“What happened to Ben?” asked Katani with sudden concern.

“She escaped,” said Maeve mournfully.

“We can't find her anywhere,” explained Isabel.

All five girls shared a moment of silence, thinking about the missing guinea pig.

“Jen is really missing her,” Maeve added. When she saw Avery's face she added, “I didn't mean to make you feel bad! Don't worry, Avery. You did everything you possibly could!”

“Anyway,” Katani snapped, “who should be making WHO feel bad around here?” She crossed her arms indignantly.

The other girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“She could still turn up,” Isabel insisted. “You guys shouldn't lose hope.”

There was no time left to worry about Ben/Beckham. The doorbell was ringing—and it looked like the first guests had arrived.

Avery's mother knocked on the door. “You girls look lovely,” she said, smiling at all of them with the slightly
distracted look she always got on her face when she was in “entertainment” mode. “Now, did Avery explain to you that Mr. Jameson is a VERY IMPORTANT businessman? We're hoping that he's going to give Talbot Academy a large donation. His daughters went there quite a while ago. He may want to ask you girls what it's like being twelve or thirteen these days.”

“He's not going to try to ship us off to the Talbot Academy, is he?” Avery asked uneasily.

“Of course not!” Avery's mother said. From the look she gave Avery, it was clear that the thought had crossed her mind once or twice. “Come on, girls. Time to meet and mingle. Don't look so scared; everyone is dying to meet you all.”

The five girls trooped obediently down the winding staircase to the Maddens' enormous living room. Katani was still acting distant toward Maeve. Avery had stepped on the backs of her shoes so they were only half on, and she was helping herself to nuts from a small bowl on a coffee table. Charlotte and Isabel were standing around feeling awkward and self-conscious, wondering what they were going to say to all the guests who seemed to be peering at them like they were specimens in a laboratory.