Everything Changes Read online

  Hmm. Maybe tomorrow I WILL talk to Grandma about Logan.

  Good night, diary.

  From: NYCGirl

  Subject: Samantha (again)

  To: CKishi

  Date: Tuesday, July 20

  Time: 9:15:47 P.M.

  Hi, Claud —

  No, the medicine cabinet isn’t the only reason Samantha can’t move in. There’s also the matter of the closets. They are all already stuffed and there are no spare coat hangers. So it’s entirely out of the question.

  That is so cool about Rachael Mann and the other artists!

  More later.

  Love,

  Stace

  From: CKishi

  Subject: Mom brakes rules

  To: NYCGirl

  Date: Tuesday, July 20

  Time: 11:22:39 P.M.

  Stacey you just wrote to me a couple hours ago. I know this becuase I swiped janine’s computter to tell you this most incredible news, and I checked my email before I started this letter to you.

  This is the incredable news. Not only did Janine brake the rules but now mom did too. I was just about to go to bed tonight. It was kind of late and dad had alredy gone to bed. I went downstares to say goodnight to mom. She was in the living room and she was reading something. She was concentratting so hard she didnt hear me until I was right next to her. When she looked up and saw me she jumped and stuck her book under the couch cushin. I dont know what came over me but I reached right under that cuchion and pulled out the book it was one of those harlaquinn romances! She found it here in the house. I remerber when she first found it she said it was trash not the kind of reading that will expand you mind.

  Ha ha, I cried!

  First I caught Janine and now mom. I won’t let mom forget this!!!

  Stacey you can BUY more coat hangars.

  Love,

  Claud

  Wednesday

  Dear Claud,

  How do you like this postcard? I’m at the last place on the list of places you wanted me to visit — the Statue of Liberty. I mean, I’m actually right AT the statue, standing near its base. It is so impressive and imposing. I think I might go to Ellis Island next. (The ferry stops there before returning to Manhattan.)

  I LOVED your e-mail from last night. I can’t believe your mom! I wish I could have seen her face when you caught her. I hope you were gentle with her, though. Because then you could remind her of that the next time she catches you at something.

  Love,

  Stacey

  July 22

  Dear Kristy,

  I just got your letter and decided I better answer it right away. I CANNOT BELIEVE that Abby dropped out of the club too!!

  I have to say that although I was surprised Logan hadn’t told me about his decision to drop out of the BSC, I wasn’t surprised that he was dropping out. And I wasn’t surprised that Jessi dropped out either, not after her news about the dance school. But Abby? Wow.

  Are you sure you should be quite so mad at her, though, Kristy? I don’t think that’s a good thing. After all, Abby isn’t doing this to hurt you. She’s doing what she feels she needs to do. Just like when I felt I needed to stay home this summer and not go to camp. You know, that decision wasn’t easy to make, and I bet Abby’s wasn’t either. I hope I don’t sound like I’m lecturing you, because I don’t mean to. It’s just that you and Abby are pretty good friends now. Are you sure you want to spoil your new friendship? Maybe you should talk to Abby. I feel a little funny giving you that advice, though, since you told me to talk to Logan, and I haven’t managed to do that. At least, not properly. We still haven’t spoken. On second thought, ignore my advice. No, wait. Don’t. You HAVE to talk to Abby, Kristy. (Well, maybe you already have. Your letter is from three days ago. A lot could have changed since then.)

  The news from here is that Grandma finally revealed the contents of all her parcels to us last night. She made a big production out of it, which was fun. At dinner she said that if we had time, she wanted to make a presentation to us that evening. I saw Dad and Sharon look at each other, exchanging a glance that was puzzled and intrigued, which was exactly how I felt.

  “What kind of presentation, Grandma?” I asked.

  “It’s a secret. I can’t tell you until we have gathered in the living room. Perhaps with ice cream?”

  That sounded good to me. Ice cream and a mysterious presentation.

  As soon as dinner was over, Dad served up four bowls of ice cream that he brought into the living room on a tray. Grandma had disappeared, but a few minutes later she showed up carrying two of the parcels. She made another trip for the rest of them. When she came back, she set them on the coffee table and said to us, “I know you’ve been wondering what on earth I carried here with me from Iowa. I think it’s time to show you. They are some things that belonged to Alma.”

  To my mother? I felt my heart begin to pound.

  I looked at Dad. He had loved my mother fiercely. What must he be thinking? We had both lost her twice — and now here she was again. Or at least little parts of her life.

  Grandma went on. “You lost everything you owned in the fire — heirlooms, photos, letters. Obviously, I can’t replace the things that were lost, but I wanted to give you some other things. I want you to know that you didn’t lose all that remains of Alma. Just the things you had.”

  Dad’s eyes had filled with tears, and Sharon reached for his hand. We watched as Grandma used a pair of scissors to cut through the tape she had sealed the largest box with. When she finished, she lifted the lid and started removing items. Each was wrapped in tissue paper. First came a photo of Mom on her wedding day. It was a portrait photo.

  “That’s — that’s,” I stammered. “I remember seeing a photo just like that in our attic.”

  Dad smiled a tiny, embarrassed smile. “It was only in the attic because —” he started to explain to Grandma.

  But she waved him away. “It’s okay, Richard,” she said. “No need for excuses.” She said it kind of brusquely, but I think it was just because her eyes had filled with tears as she removed the tissue from the photo.

  Next Grandma unwrapped a small silver cup and a dented silver ring. “Your mother’s first cup and her teething ring,” Grandma said to me. I heard a small gasp and looked at Dad, but it was Sharon who had placed her hand to her mouth.

  Grandma pulled out parcel after parcel, and as she did so the four of us moved around the room in an unhurried dance. Dad sat next to Grandma for awhile, reading through a box of letters Mom had written Grandma and Grandpa when she was away at college. Then I squeezed between them to see a dress Mom had made for her Barbie doll (it was horrible, Kristy!). Then Grandma moved next to Sharon and opened a box of Mom’s artwork from grade school and they looked through it together.

  I watched our dance and gazed hazily at what Grandma had brought. We didn’t lose everything after all, I realized. Little bits of Mom’s history were here, in our hands, before our eyes. And, Kristy, this sense of calm began to settle around me.

  I watched Grandma and Dad and saw that they seem to have a new understanding of each other. Did it take a FIRE to destroy the bad feelings between them? I don’t know. I don’t like to think so. The fire has changed too many things. But I do realize now that it didn’t destroy everything. We have one another, of course, and we even have Mom back again.

  I am beginning to feel a tiny bit hopeful, Kristy.

  Lots of love,

  Mary Anne

  Friday

  Dear Stace,

  I have so much to tell you that I desided to write you a reglar letter. An email would tie up Janines computer for to long and I don’t want to get caught, especialy not after I cuaght mom. I want to look like the good girl for as long as posible. I think that will come in handy one day.

  Well the exitement mounts. My lattest discovary is that not only can you visit the artists in their own studeos, but some of them give art classes that people who visit the island can sign up
for.

  Guess how I fond out about this. Rachael told me.

  Guess why she told me. Because she’s teaching a two day class and she asked me to sign up for it. (I did.)

  Guess who else signed up for the class (Prepare yourself). Janine. I am not kidding.

  Gues who talked her into it. Me.

  I just thought it would be fun I thought it would be somthing nice we could do together. I mean neither Janine or I has any friends here, and Janine has been realy nice about leting me use the computter. And plus I really like the fact that she defyed Mom and dad and brought the computter in the first place.

  When I mentioned the class to Janine she got all nervouse and said Oh no I cannot do anything like that. I said, But it will just be for fun. She said No your the one whos good at art Claud. I said Anyone can be good at art Janine. (I didn’t mean it but I realy wanted janine to try the class.) Finaly she said she would sign up so we ran over to Rachael’s studeo (no phone remerber?).

  The first class was held yesterday, and the second one just ended now. Stace we had so much fun!! I wasn’t realy sure what to expete with Janine I have never taken a class with her. I thought maybe she might get all bossy or try to teach the class. Then I thought maybe if it turned out that she wasn’t very tallented she might try to cover up by lecturing the other students about famouse artists or somthing. But no. In fact I saw a side of janine I havent seen before.

  Let me start at the begining.

  At 10:00 yestruday morning Janine and I showed up at Rachael’s studeo which is a cabin in the woods. Everything is all hushed as you walk along. If you listen carfully you can hear birds and the ocean but it all seems sort of distante. Then you enter the cabin and sudenly your surounded by easles and paints and wonderful arty smells. And there was Rachael. She was talking to two other woman and a man but when she saw me she smiled and waved. Afew minutes later she came over to speak to us.

  This is when I first saw the other side of janine she said all flustery, Hi I’m Claudia’s sister and she’s the one who knows everything about art. I don’t know anything. I can barely draw a stick figure. I hope your expetations for me aren’t teribly high.

  Rachael smiled and pated her arm. She said that if Janine had fun expresing herself in the class then that was all that matered.

  Janine looked unsure.

  Afew minutes later the class began. There were 8 of us, mostly women. I was the youngest. Rachael began by demonstratting and talking about some technikes. Then she let us experamant with water colors and oils. (This was a beginers class Stacy, but I had lots of fun anyway.) That frist day we worked on a still life of some fruit that was in a bowl in the middel of the room. I set right to work. I knew I wanted to try my hand at a still life that looked like Salvador Dolly might have panted it. But Janine was all seriouse, and slowly began working at her picture, fruit by fruit. She was so intense. She kept saying, Oh this does not look right Claudia. It doesnt look like fruit at all. She was all mathodical and painstaking. But you know what the more Rachael and I complamented her on her fine job the more she loosened up.

  The next day we took our easles outside and panted in the woods. When Janin saw me set up to paint this one tree, and then saw me start off with purpal pant on my brush she sudenly brightened. Oh I get it, she said. You dont have to pant realistacaly. And from then on she just sailed. She realy got lost in her work.

  You know what? In the end she had a very nice sort of free panting but better yet she said she had had so much fun and that she found the experiance very mind expanding!!!

  I hugged her.

  Oh, I just love Monhegan Stacey. This is the best place in the world.

  Love,

  Claud

  July 23

  Cannot abide Abby. Is inconsiderate, immoral creature with tiny, tiny mind of plankton.

  Ways to torture her:

  1. Switch bunks with Marcia.

  2. Arrange for Jay, Hal, or both to show up and announce they have evening off, intend to share it with A.

  3. Wait until A. has just finished brushing teeth, then say, “Oh, is that your toothbrush? I used it to clean the toilet. Sorry.”

  4. Tell Old Meanie that A. loves getting up early and should be put in charge of playing “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” every morning.

  5. Tell cook to serve A. ONLY tetrazzini thing.

  6. Sign A. up for all book and record clubs can find. (This falls into category of ways to torture A. should it become necessary to continue torture after return to Stoneybrook.)

  From: NYCGirl

  Subject: Kitchen table

  To: CKishi

  Date: Saturday, July 24

  Time: 4:12:51 P.M.

  Dear Claud,

  Just thought of one more reason why Samantha really can’t move in with us. Our miniscule kitchen table is barely big enough for Dad and me, let alone a third person. We’d have to pull out the side in order to accommodate her, and when you do that you can hardly move around in the kitchen.

  So once again … out of the question.

  Love,

  Stacey

  From: CKishi

  Subject: Rachael Mann

  To: NYCGirl

  Date: Saturday, July 24

  Time: 9:52:46 P.M.

  Hi!!!

  Stacey. You can fold the side down when your not eating meals then you can still walk around the kitchen.

  You know, I dont want to be pushy or anything but are you realy giving your father a chance. Are you being fair to him. He loves Samanta and I bet he’s lonely when your not there which is alot of the time. Also he didn’t come to you and say, Stacy I have made a decision. Samantha is going to move in with me. He said What would you think about it. Also he said that he and Samantha are only thinking about it. He’s trying to include you. Well I gues if it were my dad I might fell different.

  Anyway.

  Rachael’s art class is over, but I keep going back to her studeo. Rachael is so nice. I brought her a batch of sketches I’ve done on the island and she looked threw them realy carfully. She comented on each one and she said I have alot of talent. (Oh I just love hearing that!!!!!)

  Gues what. When I went to Rachael’s today she said, Claud I was just about to take my sketch pad to the cliffs do you want to come with me.

  Well of course I did we had to go back to my house frist so I could get my own pad and tell Mom and dad where I was going to be. Mom and Dad got to meet Rachael then and they realy liked her. (Janine was all shy arond her. I mean Rachael is JUST SO COOL.) When I had my pad and box of pencils and charcoles we walked across the island to the cliffs. Then we sat in the sun looking out in different directions. For the longest time we didnt speak we just sat and thought and sketched.

  Stacey you know that was one of the most peaceful times I can ever rember. The sun on my shoulders, the waves braking far below, a seal or two, gulls calling, and my sketchpad in front of me. You dont get quiet like that in Stonybrook you just don’t. Oh I think I could live hear forever.

  Right now its dark of course and the fog has rolled in. I have grown to love the fog. Its so enveloping and in a way comforting.

  I don’t like to think about the fact that we will have to leave hear soon.

  Love,

  Claud

  July 26

  Dear Kristy,

  GREAT, GREAT NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Dad came home from the office tonight and something about him looked a little different. Sharon was already home from work and she and Grandma noticed it too. We all stared at Dad for a moment and then Sharon said, “What is it, Richard?”

  “Well,” Dad began, “I’ve been talking to the people in Philadelphia.”

  “And?” I said.

  “Well, I want to see how you feel about this, but I’ve decided I’m not interested in the job. It’s not right for me after all.”

  “YESSSS!!!” I shouted.

  Dad grinned at me, but th
en he said, “Sharon? What about you? The courses you wanted to take in Philadelphia?”

  “Well, I can’t take them in Stoneybrook, that’s true, but I’m sure I can find something in Stamford. Maybe I could even go into New York City once a week.”

  “Mary Anne?” Dad said, smiling. “I take it this is all right with you.”

  I threw my arms around Dad and gave him a gigantic hug. And Sharon said, “Let’s eat out tonight. To celebrate.”

  “To celebrate being Stoneybrookites,” I said.

  So now, Kristy, we can start looking for a new house in Stoneybrook. We won’t have to live in the rental for much longer. This is so exciting! Where do you think we’ll end up? Back in our old neighborhood? Closer to downtown? I really don’t care as long as it’s in Stoneybrook, and as long as we have a little more room than we have right now.

  Oh, Kristy, I can’t wait for you to come home from camp!

  All right. Now I have to make one teensy confession. And I don’t think you’re going to like it.

  This is it:

  One little part of me is almost disappointed that we’re staying here.

  Guess why.

  Because if we had moved to Philadelphia I would have left Logan behind — and our problems as well. I wouldn’t have had to deal with them, and now I do.

  What does that mean, Kristy? It can’t be good.

  I know, I know. I have, have, HAVE to talk to Logan. But I’ve already tried, and look where it’s gotten us. We still haven’t spoken. If I try again and it doesn’t work for some reason … well, then where are we? This is so confusing.

  I’m glad you’ll be back soon. I need to talk to you in person.

  Love,

  Mary Anne