Holly's Heart Collection Two (24 page)
“Surprise!” they yelled as I stood there, overcome with shock.
I turned to Danny, who happened to be standing nearby. “What’s this about?”
He leaned over to whisper in my ear. “It’s a surprise going-away party for you.”
“Oh,” I said, stunned. Then the tears started. “Excuse me a sec.” I stumbled through the dining room and into the kitchen. “Quick, Mom! I need a tissue.”
She led me to the desk in the corner of the kitchen. “Here, honey.” She pulled several tissues out of the Kleenex box.
I blubbered, “I love my friends, all of them—even Jared.” I surprised myself with that. But it was true. In spite of everything, I still cared.
After wiping my eyes and blowing my nose for the second time, I followed Mom into the living room, where everyone started clapping.
Andie stepped forward. “Holly,” she began. “In case you don’t know by now, we love you. A lot.” I could see Jared nodding his head out of the corner of my eye.
“Pretty soon,” she continued, “our moms will be arriving with some more surprise stuff.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“Sit right here,” Paula said, making room for me on the rocking chair. “While we wait for the goodies, we each have a gift for you.” She was starting to sound a little choked up, too. “We want to help you remember us forever.”
Mom patted my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I took a deep breath and began opening cards and presents from all my friends.
By the time Andie’s mom showed up with the other mothers, I already had a pile of gifts. Poetry from Jared. And a red rose. (Why was I not surprised?) A set of best-friend Velcro twin bears—give one to a friend and one to keep. From Andie.
Paula’s gift was an adorable pink stuffed kitten with the name
Goofey-ette
written on the tag. Danny gave me a teen study Bible, complete with pen and notebook. It was signed with the date and his name on the first page.
Billy Hill’s gift was a silver charm for my bracelet—a tiny crutch—to help me remember the trick we’d played on Andie last year. Joy had wrapped a beautiful heart-shaped diary in music paper with hearts for notes. Shauna gave me a book about pen pals with a list of international Christian organizations.
Pastor Rob had a special gift from the pastoral staff. It was a gift certificate for a free lift ticket. “We want you to come ski with us,” he said, grinning.
I looked around the room at my fabulous friends, some sitting on the floor, others standing around. “I promise not to cry if you promise to come visit me in Denver.”
Andie waved her hands. “We’ll come, all right. Two at a time,” she said, looking at Paula.
I glanced up at Mom. She was wiping tears from her own eyes. That’s when a giggle escaped my lips. Not because anything was funny; it was a burst of pent-up emotion. “Thank you so much,” I said.
The kids applauded.
Mom rang her dinner bell, and all of us squeezed into the dining room. After a prayer by Pastor Rob, some of the kids spilled into the kitchen to make room. Pig-out time! Mrs. Martinez had brought several gallons of strawberry ice cream. And there were two angel food cakes—my favorite.
Over the din of the crowd, Jared made an announcement directed to me. “After this, we’ve planned another surprise.”
I studied him. “There’s more?”
He nodded, working his way through the group toward me. Then, pulling me aside—actually all the way into the living room—he began apologizing. “Holly, I’m sorry about everything. You were right. It doesn’t really matter whether you call yourself my girlfriend anymore,” he said. “I just want you to know, before you leave, that I’ll always miss you.”
I smiled. “I’ll miss you, too, Jared.”
He winked at me. “Friends?”
“Forever,” I said, taking his hand and leading him back to the festivities.
After multiple desserts, Jared and Andie directed me and the rest of our friends out the front door and down the street. All of us made a human friendship chain with our hands. People driving by gawked, but we didn’t care.
At the bus stop, we waited together, including Stan, who had just arrived home from the library. Andie looked mighty glad to see him again.
My big surprise turned out to be a city bus tour of Dressel Hills. A clever way to say good-bye to my beloved town. Jared even moved to let Danny sit beside me from the Explore Bookstore back to Downhill Court. Incredible.
When we arrived at my house again, it was hard to say goodbye to everyone. One by one, the kids went home, until Andie and Jared were the only ones left.
I walked with them to the driveway, where I threw my arms around Andie. She hugged me like never before, clinging to me and sobbing in my ear.
“Maybe it won’t work out in Denver,” she cried. “Maybe you and your family will be back in a few weeks.”
Poor Jared stood there sort of embarrassed while Andie and I gushed about our loyalty to each other.
And then they were both gone.
Thank goodness I had five more days of school before the final good-byes. Otherwise, I probably would have gone upstairs and fainted on the spot.
By Tuesday night, I had packed nearly all my personal belongings except the clothes I planned to wear. The big stuff, like beds and other furnishings, was scheduled to go out the door on Friday morning. The movers could do their thing without us kids around. Thank goodness for small blessings.
Paula Miller’s dad, Uncle Jack’s business partner, had invited us to spend our last night in their home. They, of course, would remain in Dressel Hills, and Mr. Miller would run the downtown office for Uncle Jack.
I tried to share my feelings during family devotions after supper, but tonight I could hardly speak.
We’re moving. We’re actually moving. We have to leave Dressel Hills
were the thoughts going through my mind. The hideous chant tumbled over and over in my brain. How could Carrie and Mom and the rest of the family be so calm about this? So glib? I couldn’t bear to think of our remaining three days here.
Some way, somehow, God would have to work a miracle. Either that or give me the grace to bear this. I was afraid it would be the latter.
Paula had told me at school that she’d invited Andie to spend Friday night with us. It would be our final farewell.
Wednesday after school, Andie came home with me. Homework was the excuse, but actually it was a way to spend extra time together before the worst day of all—moving day.
We hopped off the bus and walked the half block to my house. Andie jabbered about plans to visit me in Denver during spring break. “It’ll be so cool,” she said. I knew she was trying to make me feel better. “Let’s go to Casa Bonita and pig out on Mexican food” was one of her ideas.
“And don’t forget the Imax theatre,” I said, referring to the giant screen near the Natural History Museum.
We walked on in silence. There seemed to be nothing left to say.
Turning the corner, we headed up Downhill Court. There was my beloved home: the tan split-level house Daddy and Mom had designed and built. I would miss the beautiful view of the mountains from its windows. And the deck where we’d spent so many warm summer evenings. And my beloved window seat…
As I stared at the house, it looked lonely, empty…like something was missing.
“Something’s different,” I said, pausing in the driveway.
Andie stood still. “What is it?”
Surveying the front yard, my eyes spotted something weird. I walked across the grass, over the melting snow piles, and peered at a hole in the ground. My heart sped up as I turned to Andie. “Someone’s ripped out the For Sale sign. Come on!”
We dashed up the steps and into the house. “Mom!” I shouted.
“What’s happened to—”
Just then Uncle Jack emerged from the garage, carrying the sign. “Someone looking for this?” A mischievous smile danced across his face.
“What’s going on?” I said, and Andie started screaming and hugging me at the same time.
Uncle Jack explained, “The partner we had in mind for the Denver office changed his mind. He’s going to take the job.”
“So we’re staying here?” I asked.
“For the time being,” he said.
I danced around the room, shouting for joy. Mom came downstairs, grinning. “Looks like someone’s very happy,” she said. “Thank goodness the house didn’t sell out from under our noses.”
Andie took my hand and pulled me upstairs. She closed my bedroom door and made me sit on my window seat. “This is so cool,” she gushed. “It’s
fabulous
!”
“I can’t believe it,” I said. My mind was racing to catch up.
Snatching my Bible off the nightstand, she giggled. “Read it and weep,” she said, opening to Matthew 18:19. “Man, did this work, or what.”
“Thank you, Lord,” I said, my hands clasped heavenward. “You were almost too late.”
“Hey, you oughta know better than that,” Andie scolded. Then a smile burst across her face. “Good-bye, Denver,” she shouted.
I laughed. “Hello, world!”
For my dear readers,
especially those who share
heart secrets with me.
STRAIGHT-A TEACHER
I was late for fourth-period choir. Really late. Today Miss Hess, our choral director, was auditioning students for the lead role of Maria in
The Sound of Music.
And I was competing against all my girl friends for the part.
Holding on to my notebook, I heaved the rest of my books into my locker and slammed the door. Then I dashed down the hall, past the principal’s office, and spun around the corner.
Whoosh!
I plowed into someone. My notebook flew out of my hands, creating a fan of loose papers all over the floor.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, looking up. And there he was: The cutest guy I had ever seen. Soft gray eyes. A flash of a dimple in his smile. And just a hint of a five-o’clock shadow.
“Are you all right?” His gentle tone took my breath away.
I mumbled a pathetic apology. “I’m really s-sorry.” Stuttering wasn’t my style, but this guy…My heart flipped and fluttered like some poor, unsuspecting fish dragged up on the sand.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked again, his eyes still concerned.
I managed a nod.
“It was my fault,” he insisted, leaning over to gather up my papers.
Slightly dazed, I reached for my notebook. It was then I noticed the navy blue sleeve of his sweater and his nicely pressed khakis. This guy was too young to be a parent, he was certainly not a teacher, and he was too old for junior high. In fact, I’d never seen him around Dressel Hills before.
Slowly standing, he handed the pile of papers to me, glancing at the one on top. “Holly Meredith,” he remarked as he studied it. “Are you a teacher’s assistant?” His eyes twinkled as he spoke.
Surprised, I shook my head slowly. Again his eyes met mine.
“I’d better hurry,” I heard myself say. With a fleeting smile, I scurried off to the stairway and up to the music room.
As I pushed open the choir room door, Miss Hess stood behind a music stand, organizing her music folder. She wore a blue skirt and funky shirt. More fashion conscious than the older teachers, Miss Hess had a wardrobe that just wouldn’t quit.