Letters from the Heart (11 page)

The first award went to a boy from a junior high in Boston. His name was Simon, and he had started an after-school program teaching English to kids who spoke other languages. Everyone clapped loudly when Simon came up to accept his certificate. Maeve couldn't believe how poised and self-assured he was. He thanked a bunch of people when he made his speech, but he made it sound like he hadn't practiced at all—like he was used to getting awards every day of the week!

The second certificate went to a girl named Hannah something-or-other who had been volunteering as a coach,
teaching soccer to first and second graders with special physical needs. Everyone clapped really hard for her. Because Avery knew her from soccer, she started whistling and stamping when Hannah's name was called.

Hannah came bounding up to claim her certificate, a big grin on her face. She was every bit as poised and articulate as Simon when she thanked the man from the Rotary Club who gave her the award. Maeve had to hand it to her. Like Simon, she looked completely natural and at ease. She said a bunch of things about the kids she coached and how inspiring they were, and people kept clapping and clapping.

Maeve could feel her hands growing sweaty…just like Riley Lee's had been when they'd danced together a few weeks ago. Being on stage never bothered Maeve before. This was so strange. All of a sudden she just wanted to go home.

“Thank you, Hannah,” Mrs. Fields said, getting to her feet with a smile. “And finally, our third certificate of merit goes to…” There was an expectant pause. “Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, for her Project Thread. Maeve encouraged a group of students to make blankets for children living in a homeless shelter. These special gifts touched their hearts and made a tangible difference to their lives.”

Maeve couldn't believe her ears. She sat completely frozen, as if she were glued to her chair.

“Maeve—you WON!” Avery shrieked, practically in her ear. “You've got to go up there and get your certificate! GO!”

Maeve felt like she couldn't move. Her feet seemed to be made of lead. What had happened to the graceful acceptance walk that she'd practiced? It took both Avery and Katani tugging at her arms to pull her out of her seat. She felt like every word in the English language went right out of her head as she stumbled up to the podium. Mrs. Fields was
beaming down at her, looking proud and happy.

She handed Maeve a large certificate, gesturing for her to come over to the podium to say something.

Maeve blinked. Here it was—her chance to make her speech. She tried desperately to remember what she wanted to say. Come on, she scolded herself. You rehearsed this! She knew that she wanted to thank people. Her parents. Her friends. The kids at Jeri's Place. Thank you to…to…

“Um,” Maeve said into the microphone. It made a scratching sound, and she jumped back. The faces in the auditorium swam in front of her. “Um—thank you. Thanks,” she said. And that was it. That was all she said! Not to mention the fact that she almost tripped on her way back down from the stage. Those platform shoes, Maeve thought; they get you every time.

Her face was flaming red. She could feel it.

“Way to go, Maeve,” Avery whispered, patting her arm. “You're awesome.”

“Good job,” Charlotte said with a big smile.

Isabel's eyes were shining.

And Katani—who NEVER hugged in public—actually broke out of character and engulfed her in a warm hug.

Her friends kept patting her warmly on the shoulder as she took her seat again. Her palms felt damp and her heart was pounding. Wow—who knew that this could happen? Maeve had always assumed that stage fright was just something that happened in books. Maybe it was the stress about her parents…she wasn't sure. For once in her life, Maeve understood the phrase “tongue-tied.” That was exactly what it had felt like up there—as if her tongue were tied in knots.

“Good job up there. Nice and short,” Avery said comfortingly.

“I choked up,” Maeve whispered. “I totally blew it.”

“But you won,” Katani reminded her. “Way to go, Maeve.”

Her friends all wanted to inspect her certificate. Everyone passed it around, admiring it, but Maeve was feeling worse by the minute. “I meant to thank you guys,” she whispered. “I meant to thank LOTS of people, and I didn't. I feel terrible.”

“Maeve, don't worry,” Isabel said, giving Maeve a quick hug. “We're just proud of you, okay?”

The awards ceremony was coming to a close, and before Maeve knew it, her classmates were swarming around her. Betsy and Abby and Riley and Nick…it was hard for anyone to get close, so many kids were trying to come up and say congratulations! She saw Dillon, hanging back with Pete and Nick, and her cheeks reddened again. WHY couldn't she have said something suave and eloquent up there? She'd had her big moment, and she'd CHOKED!

“Nice job, Maeve,” Dillon said. To Maeve's amazement, he looked slightly embarrassed. Dillon Johnson—blushing? Now there was a first. “Seriously,” he said, raising his eyes and meeting hers. “That's really cool, Maeve.”

Even through the haze of her embarrassment, Maeve couldn't help registering the fact that Dillon had actually COME UP TO HER and said something nice. This was a big milestone.

“Thanks,” Maeve said, making major eye contact and playing up the moment for all it was worth. Okay, she'd blown it up on the podium; that didn't mean she couldn't try to make up for it now.

“Maybe,” Dillon said, leaning closer and lowering his voice, “We could go out and celebrate sometime.”

Maeve's heartbeat quickened. “Uh…that would be nice.
I'd like that,” she said, without missing a beat. Well thank heavens her ability to speak had come back to her NOW. Dillon Johnson had asked her out! Right there in the Community Center! Maeve thought she might quite possibly die of joy right on the spot. Dillon was already being pulled away by Pete and Nick, but Maeve kept her eyes on his back as they left the room. Maybe the night wasn't a complete disaster after all. Her stomach was a little more settled now.

“Maeve!” It was her mom, coming up to her with a huge smile on her face. “Oh, honey—congratulations! I'm so proud of you!”

Her parents! In all her excitement and embarrassment, Maeve had almost forgotten her secret mission tonight. “Where's Daddy?” she said, as her mother gave her a quick hug.

She needn't have asked—he was right behind her, looking as proud and happy as she could imagine. As proud and happy as her mom.

“I always knew that blanket project was a great idea,” her father said with a huge smile on his face.

Maeve hugged him, but she could see her mother's expression change. Uh-oh—this wasn't such a good remark on her father's part. Her mother had been critical of the blanket project, thinking that it was taking way too much of Maeve's time. She'd better change the subject before—

But it was too late.

“You know, Ross, I ALSO liked Maeve's blanket project. Please don't say that in that kind of voice,” her mother retorted in a low, hurt voice.

“Carol, this isn't about you! I was actually talking to Maeve!” her father said, irritated.

Maeve winced. She didn't want them arguing. Not here!

This was definitely not the way that things were supposed to happen.

“You guys,” she said quickly, putting her hand on each parent's arm. “Can we go out for ice cream somewhere to celebrate? Just the four of us?”

Her parents exchanged glances. “Sure,” her mother said at last. But she didn't sound ecstatic about it.

Her father was quiet on the way to the car, too. But Maeve ignored that.

Tonight may not have been perfect, but it was pretty darned close. She'd actually won the award! Every time she looked at the certificate she felt a thrill go through her. She'd done a good job—a terrific job in fact! And everyone that she cared about was there to celebrate her success. And to top it off, Dillon had asked her out.

Okay, maybe her parents were a little touchy around each other. But Maeve assured herself that they were just worn out from the tensions of the week. She couldn't believe that her father would still go along with his plan to move out on Sunday. Not now. Not when she'd been the perfect model daughter—and even one with an award to prove it!

 

Montoya's was packed with kids after the awards ceremony, so Maeve suggested that they go to an old favorite of hers—the Ice Cream Shoppe, a wonderful, '50s-style diner that served ice cream sundaes at an old-fashioned counter. She noticed that her mother sat at the fourth stool and her father at the first, leaving her and Sam to sit in between them. And after the first delicious bites of ice cream, Maeve started to sense that maybe this hadn't been the best plan. Her
mother was subdued, and her father kept directing most of his conversation to Maeve or Sam.

Finally, her mother cleared her throat. “I know this is a celebration tonight, Maeve. But we should probably talk a little bit about what's happening this weekend. Would you two like to help Dad move some things over to the new place tomorrow?”

Her father looked searchingly at Maeve and Sam. “I'd really appreciate your help,” he said. “And if you come over tomorrow and help me move, you'll already know the place a little bit by Sunday. I was hoping you'd have dinner with me there on Sunday night.”

Maeve's ears buzzed. This was real. It was really going to happen.

“Maeve?” Her father put his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”

Maeve felt foolish. Had she really thought that she could get them to change their minds? Just by being helpful? Just by winning an award?

Avery was right. Parents did what they were going to do no matter what. She'd been unbelievably naive to think otherwise.

“I'll help move boxes!” her brother said, polishing off his ice cream. Sam looked perfectly fine with the idea. Or at least USED to the idea by now.

That's because he's admitted it to himself, Maeve thought. He hasn't been dreaming all week, the way I have, that they'll change their minds. Her brother was little, but he was a realist. Maeve blinked back tears. She was such a dreamer. She always thought she could change the world.

Well, this time it looked like she couldn't. No matter what she did, her parents were going to go ahead with this.
And Maeve didn't see what she could possibly do to make things better.

 

“What's the matter?” her father asked late that night, when Maeve padded down to the kitchen in her favorite slippers. “You can't sleep either?”

Maeve shook her head, pulling a chair up to the kitchen table.

“How about some warm milk with cinnamon and honey?”

She nodded. It was her father's specialty—and it almost always soothed her enough to help her get sleepy again. She couldn't remember the last time that he'd made it for her; she realized that this might never happen again. Not the same way. Coming downstairs and finding her dad here. All four of them together in one house.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, putting his hand under her chin and lifting her face up so that his eyes met hers. “You doing okay?”

Maeve's eyes swam with tears. “It's just that I thought you and Mom would change your minds when you saw how smoothly things were going and how much better I was doing with everything. I didn't think you'd really go through with this.”

Her father nodded. That was one of the things that Maeve adored about her father—she could really tell him whatever was on her mind, and he didn't get freaked out. He liked to say that he was hard to shock, and it was true.

“That's kind of understandable. I think Mom and I feel a little bit the same way. We didn't really think it would come to this either. Maeve, this is hard. We can't pretend it isn't.”

“Why can't you just stay?” Maeve asked, the tears
spilling over her cheeks. “Can't you two figure this out somehow? I know someone whose mom and dad saw a marriage counselor,” she added, brushing away the tears. “And they said it helped!”

“We've been seeing a counselor,” her father told her. “And we're going to keep seeing her, Maeve. But she also thinks that this is a good idea. We're at the point where we just need to stand back and see ourselves and each other for who we really are. We're hoping that living apart for a while will let us do that better.”

Her father went over to the stove to start heating up some milk. Maeve wanted to keep this moment frozen in time forever. But she knew she couldn't. “Dad,” she said, barely trusting her voice. “Is there anything that Sam and I can do to help? You know…to help you and Mom figure it out?”

Her father sighed. “I'm afraid this one is up to us, Maeve. But you CAN do something. Something really important: Don't blame yourself. Don't burden yourself by thinking that it's up to you to make us get along better. Try to be honest about your feelings. It's tough enough to go through something like this and hide how you really feel.”

Maeve swallowed. She had been thinking that somehow she'd been responsible.

“And Maeve,” her father added, “don't shut your friends out. You're going to need them. Now more than ever. They're there to help you, especially in hard times.”

It was like he could read her mind, Maeve thought. Would that still be true after this weekend? Would they still be close, even when her father wasn't living with them anymore?