Welcome Home, Mary Anne Read online

  I saw a shadow pass over Dawn’s face. Sometimes I forgot how close she’d been to Mrs. Winslow. “I’m sorry, I — ”

  “No, it’s okay. I know what you mean. I think it’s just Sunny’s way of coping.” Dawn frowned down at the dish towel in her hand.

  “Does she ever talk about — about her mom? Like, at night, when you guys are getting ready to sleep?”

  Dawn shook her head. “Not really. We talk a lot but mostly about Ducky and Maggie and our other friends back home. Or about the boys at the pool, stuff like that. She never brings up her mom, so neither do I.”

  I nodded. “I understand.” Sunny didn’t exactly leave a lot of room for serious topics.

  “I don’t know if she’s avoiding the subject,” Dawn went on. Now she was folding and refolding the dish towel. “Or if she’s just trying to rebuild her life — you know, move on.”

  “Well, whichever it is, I guess we just have to support her.”

  “Sure,” said Dawn, brightening a bit. “As long as she doesn’t force us off the high dive.”

  I laughed. “Nobody can do that. But I’m willing to put up with just about anything else.”

  “Me too.” Dawn smiled. “Anyway, she’s kind of fun when she’s like this. Hanging out with Sunny can be like taking a ride on a roller coaster.”

  Just then, Sunny burst into the room. “You guys! Haven’t you changed yet? We have a ton to do!”

  Dawn and I looked at each other and smiled.

  “Here’s the plan,” Sunny said, grabbing our hands to pull us upstairs. “First, we do some weeding. Then I’ll mow the lawn while you guys clip around the edges. Then we can repot some of the geraniums Sharon kept from last summer and plant the seedlings she bought from the nursery.”

  “Sounds like a big day,” said Dawn.

  “Big day? That’s only the morning!” Sunny laughed. “Wait until you hear about what we’re doing this afternoon.” She headed into Dawn’s room to change.

  Dawn hung back. “What do you think?” she whispered to me. “Are we going to dig our own swimming pool?”

  We giggled. But by the end of the day, we weren’t laughing. We were too tired to even crack a smile. Sunny had kept us on the run, with hardly a break for lunch or a rest in the shade.

  As exhausted as I was, I had to admit the yard looked great when we were done. And Sharon couldn’t have been happier.

  “How about if I take you to the mall tomorrow as a reward?” she asked. “I think I can even afford to give you each a little spending money.”

  “Great!” Sunny accepted for all three of us. “Can we pick out the new curtains and stuff for Dawn’s room?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’m going to spend the evening with those color swatches,” Sunny said. “I love putting together cool combinations.” She looked at me. “Your room could use a little more personality too,” she added. “Want to look at the books with me?”

  I shook my head. “I’m too tired. A bath and bed are all I want right now.” I was hurt by her comment about my room, but I tried to hide that. I didn’t want to make her feel bad.

  Sunny shrugged. “No prob. I’ll come up with some ideas, and you can see what you think.”

  Sunny must have stayed up until at least midnight looking over the color swatches. But guess who was raring to go first thing in the morning? “Time to get malled,” she sang, banging on my door at eight o’clock.

  “Sunny.” I groaned. “The stores don’t even open until ten.”

  “And we want to be there on the dot,” she answered without a pause. “If there are any sales, we don’t want to miss out on the good stuff, do we?”

  I groaned again, this time under my breath. “Support her, support her,” I whispered to myself. “Okay!” I called back, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

  “I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re dressed,” she answered. “Be there or be square.”

  Being square didn’t sound so bad if it meant a few extra minutes in bed. But I knew I didn’t really have a choice. I heaved myself out of bed and prepared for another Sunny day.

  Over breakfast, Sunny showed us some of her decorating ideas, illustrating them with the swatches. I had to admit that she had a good sense of color and style. Her mom had been an artist, and it must have rubbed off on Sunny. She’d come up with a Mediterranean palette for Dawn — yellows, purples, and reds blending to create a colorful but coordinated look. She’d thought of some ideas for my room too. “I didn’t mean to offend you when I said your room needed more personality,” she said, giving me a sheepish smile. “But just look at how a little bit of this green would complete your color scheme.”

  I had to give Sunny credit for two things: one, for noticing that I’d been hurt by her comment, and two, for being right about the green. Suddenly, I was eager to head for the mall. If Sunny could help me find a pillow or two to complete my room, we’d both be happy.

  So, how did our shopping trip go? Well, to make a long story short, I did find my pillows. But it took all day, and I didn’t exactly have a lot of energy left over for my Friday night sitting job at the Pikes’.

  Let’s just say that “Sunny at the Mall” is not a show I need to repeat anytime soon. Not that it wasn’t fun. It was. It was just a little too much fun for one day.

  Sunny insisted on stopping into just about every store at the mall, since she wanted to have the total experience. We looked through the magazines at Bookcenter, tried on platform sandals at Antoinette’s Shoe Tree, petted all the puppies at Critters, and listened to dozens of music samples on the headphones at Power Records. We even tried on veils at Rita’s Bridal Shoppe.

  By five o’clock my feet hurt. My eyes hurt. And my stomach hurt. (Could it have been that last round of nachos at Tortilla Queen?) But I had my pillows and Dawn had her curtains and bedspread, and, best of all, Sunny was happy.

  “You look tired,” Sharon said when she picked me up at the mall’s side entrance.

  “I am.” I leaned back in my seat. “Wake me when we get to the Pikes’.” I was just kidding, but in truth I could have used a nap. Sunny and Dawn were lucky. They were going to a movie. If they wanted to, they could doze right through the whole thing. Not that it would be easy; they’d chosen a scary one about zombies terrorizing a summer camp. I was glad to miss it — but once again, I couldn’t help feeling a little left out.

  It was silly. I should have been happy. I was on my way to a sitting job (and I do love baby-sitting), and I’d be sharing that job with my other best friend, Kristy (Mallory was away at a two-week writing camp). So why did I care that Dawn and Sunny hardly seemed to notice when I said good-bye? They already had their minds on popcorn and zombies. It wasn’t anything personal.

  “What movie are they going to?” Jeff asked from the backseat. I’d barely noticed he was there, since he was slumped way down.

  “Camp Fear,” I told him.

  “Cool,” he said. “I wish I could go.”

  “No way,” Sharon told him.

  “I know, I know.” Jeff groaned. “I’m too young, too impressionable. I’ll have nightmares.”

  “You’ve got it, buddy.” Sharon and I smiled at each other. “Anyway,” she went on, “you have plans tonight. The triplets are excited about having you over.”

  I’d asked Mr. and Mrs. Pike if it was okay to bring Jeff along when I sat. I was a little concerned about him, and I knew Sharon and my dad were too. He was still in a funk about the house. He hadn’t done a thing about decorating his room or making it his own. We’d all offered to help. Sunny had even sketched out a very cool idea for a big Star Wars mural to go on the wall over his bed. But Jeff didn’t seem interested. I figured it might do him good to spend some time with his friends.

  When we arrived at the Pikes’, Kristy was already there and Mr. and Mrs. Pike were on their way out the door. “Hi, Mary Anne, ’bye Mary Anne!” said Mrs. Pike. “Good to see you, Jeff. Have fun
!”

  Jeff headed off downstairs to the Pikes’ rec room.

  “Boy, do you look tired.” That was the first thing Kristy said to me. “Did you have fun at the mall?”

  I was about to start telling her about our day when Jordan interrupted. Jordan’s ten, like his brothers Adam and Byron. They’re the triplets, obviously. “When’s dinner?” he demanded.

  “Any minute now,” Kristy said, checking her watch. “I’m just waiting for the frogs to spawn. I already put the monkey-brain pie into the oven. And dessert’s all set: The booger pudding is in the fridge.”

  “Eww!” Jordan cried gleefully. “I’m going to hurl!” Kristy knows just what ten-year-old boys like to hear. “Hey, guys!” Jordan took off down the hall. “Wait till you hear what’s for dinner!”

  A few beats later, we heard loud (fake) barfing noises from the rec room. Kristy and I grinned at each other.

  “What are we really having?” I asked.

  “Macaroni and cheese, broccoli, and ice-cream sandwiches,” Kristy answered. “If anyone wants something different, they’re welcome to rummage around in the fridge.”

  “Jeff likes mac and cheese. He’ll be happy.”

  “Will he?” Kristy asked. “Judging by the way he looked coming in, it would take more than a good dinner to cheer him up. Is he still upset about the house?”

  I nodded. “He — ”

  Just then, we were interrupted again. This time it was Claire, the youngest Pike. She’s five. “Can you thread my needle?” she asked. “Margo and me are doing a crafts project. We’re making purses.”

  “Margo and I,” I said, automatically correcting her as I took the needle and began to thread it. (Margo is the next-youngest. She’s seven.)

  “Margo and you?” she asked, looking bewildered. “But you just got here.”

  “No — I — oh, never mind.” I handed her back the needle. “You’re all set,” I said. “But don’t go far. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

  Claire thanked me and ran off.

  “Where’s Vanessa?” I asked.

  “She’s in her room,” Kristy told me. “She’s reading a biography of Emily Dickinson. Her mom said she’s so deeply into it that she’s barely spoken to anyone for two days.”

  Vanessa’s nine. She loves poetry and hopes to be a poet someday.

  Kristy and I headed for the kitchen and finished putting dinner together. I set the table and poured out glasses of milk while Kristy served the macaroni and cheese. Then we called the kids.

  It took fifteen minutes to get everyone seated at the table — and about three and a half minutes for everyone to eat.

  “May I be excused?” Adam asked after he’d rushed through his plate of food.

  “No excuse for you,” Jordan muttered.

  “Jordan!” Vanessa said. “Think twice. Be nice.”

  I wondered if that’s what Emily Dickinson would have said. As far as I remembered, her poetry didn’t always rhyme. Vanessa’s usually does.

  “I’m done too,” said Claire, hiding her last piece of broccoli under the rim of her plate.

  “Almost,” I said, pointing to it. “Finish that and then you can go back to your project.”

  Margo had already eaten all her broccoli. I think she’s the only Pike kid who actually likes vegetables.

  Adam and Byron stood up to take their plates to the sink. “Wait up, you guys!” said Nicky, shoving a last forkful of macaroni into his mouth. Nicky, who’s eight, is always trailing along after the triplets.

  Adam rolled his eyes.

  Byron waited. He tends to be a little more thoughtful than his brothers.

  I glanced at Jeff. He hadn’t eaten much. Instead, he was playing with his food. He stuck a broccoli flower upright in a pile of macaroni so that it looked like a tree. Then he knocked it over as if he were Paul Bunyan.

  “Timber!” I said under my breath. I gave him a private smile. He didn’t smile back.

  “What are you guys up to?” I asked him.

  He shrugged.

  “Having fun?”

  He shrugged again.

  Byron touched Jeff on the shoulder. “It’s your turn on the computer,” he said. “I can show you how to get around the evil wizard, if you want.”

  “That’s okay,” said Jeff. “Adam can take my turn. He’s better at it anyway.”

  “Cool!” yelled Adam. He ran to the sink, dumped his plate, and reappeared carrying an ice-cream sandwich.

  “Better eat that outside,” Kristy advised. “I don’t think your dad would appreciate ice cream on the computer.”

  Adam made a face, then headed out the back door, letting the screen door slam. Jordan and Nicky followed in his tracks, each with his own ice-cream sandwich. Byron watched them go, then looked back at Jeff.

  “Go ahead,” Jeff told him. “I don’t think I want any ice cream anyway. I’ll catch up with you guys.”

  Poor Jeff. Even Claire noticed that something was wrong. “Want to come sew with us?” she asked, flashing him her best smile.

  “No, thanks,” Jeff said.

  Claire and Margo ran off, and Vanessa disappeared upstairs to commune with Emily. Kristy and I puttered around the kitchen, cleaning up. Jeff continued to sit at the empty table.

  “Don’t you want to play with your friends?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t look at me.

  “Jeff? Are you okay?”

  He burst into tears.

  “Oh, Jeff!” I was surprised. It took a lot to make him cry. “What’s the matter?”

  For a few moments, he couldn’t talk. He cried and cried. I sat down next to him and tried to comfort him. Then his sobs died down a little. I motioned for Kristy to leave us alone.

  “Jeff, can you talk to me?” I asked. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I just — I just hate it here. I hate Connecticut. There’s nothing here I like.” He sniffed. “I used to like our house, but now — now it’s gone!” he wailed. “And I used to like to play in the barn, but now I have to live in the barn. And I don’t have any of my stuff, and everybody keeps telling me to get new stuff, but it’ll never be the same as the stuff that got burned up. I miss my stuff!”

  I nodded. I missed my “stuff” too. I rubbed his back. “I know, Jeff. It’s hard.”

  “And my friends don’t understand, and I feel like I don’t even know them anymore.” Jeff hiccuped.

  I knew how that felt too. My friends had been supportive and incredibly thoughtful, but none of them really understood what it had been like to lose everything in a fire. How could they? But I knew they’d tried, and I knew the Pike boys had too. “Jeff,” I said. “Your friends want to help. They want to understand. And they want things to be the same between you.”

  “But they aren’t!” Jeff cried. “Nothing’s the same since that stupid, stupid fire.”

  He was right. I couldn’t deny it. And while I’d had lots of time to work through my feelings about the fire, Jeff was having a delayed reaction. The fact that his home had been lost was just starting to hit him, even though it had happened months ago.

  Just then, I turned to see Byron standing quietly in the doorway. He looked sympathetic. Suddenly, I had an idea. “Hey, Jeff,” I said. “You know what? I bet your friends would love to help you figure out how to fix up your room so you’re happier in it.”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Jeff mumbled.

  “Oh, yeah?” Byron asked from the doorway. “Yes, we would. That would be cool!”

  Good old Byron. I smiled at him.

  Jeff looked up. “Really?” he asked.

  “Wait here,” said Byron. “I’ll get the others.” He dashed off and rounded up the rest of the Pike boys. Within minutes, everyone was sitting around the dining room table, plotting and planning.

  Did I say Sunny was a good interior decorator? Well, she had nothing on the Pike boys. They came up with some outrageously creative ideas.

  “I have this real c
ool monster mask,” Jordan said. “We could make a scarecrow with it and stand it in the corner. It would scare everybody to death!”

  “And we can paint the room purple,” added Adam. “With red racing stripes around it. And put up black-light posters and keep the black light on all the time.”

  “You can have my Nerf basketball net,” Nicky offered generously.

  “Or even our real basketball net!” cried Byron, getting carried away.

  Kristy had come in by then, and she and I looked at each other and smiled. I’m sure she was thinking the same thing I was: that Sharon and Dad might not be so pleased with the new decorating team I’d hired. On the other hand, if it made Jeff feel better about the new house, they’d probably let him keep an orangutan in his room.

  “What about a bed that looks like an aircraft carrier? Do they make those? That would be really cool.”

  “Jeff,” Dawn said. She sounded exasperated. “Enough, okay? I know you’re excited about changing your room around, but we have stuff to do now. We’ll help out when your friends come over tomorrow, I promise.”

  It was Saturday evening, the day after my sitting job at the Pikes’. Jeff had been talking all day about the plans he and the triplets and Nicky had made for fixing up his room. He could hardly wait. Sunny had encouraged him, naturally, showing him outrageous color combinations and discussing what kind of live animal habitats might be fun (I actually heard them talking about an iguana house at one point). But even though we were happy to see Jeff acting less mopey, Dawn and I were already tired of the subject.

  Anyway, Dawn was right. We did have other stuff to do.

  We had to get ready for our date.

  Gulp.

  Just thinking the word made me nervous.

  I hadn’t been on a date with anybody but Logan in a long, long time. And going out with Logan had been so easy, so comfortable. I never had to think about what to say or how to act around him.

  I never had to think about what to wear.

  “What about this?” I held up a purple T-shirt. Dawn and I were alone in her room, now that Jeff had finally left. Sunny was downstairs, talking to her dad on the phone. We’d thrown piles of clothes — mine, hers, and Sunny’s — on both beds, and we were starting to try them on, deciding what to wear that night when we went to the movies with Cole and his friends.