Letters from the Heart (13 page)

Maeve nodded. “I know. Poor Jen and Ben. I think they know there's tension in the house. They didn't even want to eat their lettuce this morning,” she said sadly.

Avery was staring at her. “Maeve,” she said suddenly, as if she'd just had the most brilliant idea in the world. “Let me take care of the guinea pigs for awhile!”

“WHAT?” Maeve asked, putting down her carrot. “Avery, wasn't it bad enough giving your mother hives from Marty last weekend? You can't bring Ben and Jen home. Your mom will kill you!”

“Let me ask her,” Avery pleaded. “She might say yes. I don't think she's allergic to guinea pigs, just to dogs and cats. Please, Maeve. If I bring them over and she doesn't sneeze and stuff, maybe she'd at least let me get a guinea pig one day.”

“Well,” Maeve said doubtfully, “you'd have to check with her, Avery. No more hiding pets over at your place.”

“I'll ask,” Avery agreed. “But if she says okay, can I keep them for a little while? Please?”

Maeve thought about this. On the one hand, she'd really miss Ben and Jen. They were her soul mates, and she didn't really want to be without them, even for a little while. But this was going to be a pretty busy week. She'd promised to give her mom lots of extra help after school. She had lots of lessons, and Matt was helping her with math…and on Friday afternoon, she and Sam were going over to Dad's for their first weekend at his place. Plus, Ben and Jen needed a fair
amount of looking after—changing their bedding, making sure they had clean food and lots of water. And she had all this laundry to do, and helping her mom with dinner…

“Okay,” she said, relenting. “But you HAVE to get your mom's permission, Avery. And you have to let me show you how to take care of them! Guinea pigs are completely different than dogs. They are really sensitive.”

“Marty's sensitive,” said Charlotte.

Avery clapped her hands together gleefully. “It'll be like joint custody,” she cried. “We can share them!”

When Maeve gave her a reproachful look, Avery thought quickly. “I mean, just for this week,” she added. Clearly Avery couldn't be more thrilled. Now all she had to do was to convince her mother to let her baby-sit for a pair of guinea pigs.

M
aeve! Wait up!” Dillon came over just as Maeve was trying to fit her tray into the metal rack by the garbage cans.

Not exactly a romantic place to run into him. The tray started to tip, and Maeve had to grab it to keep her lunch from sliding all over the place. Food started to slosh back and forth—yuck. No wonder, Maeve thought, that not a SINGLE romantic movie gets filmed in a junior high cafeteria.

“Here, let me help,” Dillon said, taking the tray and fitting it into the slot on the rack.

Be cool, she ordered herself. But it was hard, especially since Dillon looked amazingly cute today. He was wearing a pale yellow shirt and a pair of blue jeans that were a little baggy and really faded. She LOVED the way his blonde hair fell over one eye. And those eyes…SO Orlando.

“So,” he said, falling into step beside her as they walked toward the bank of seventh-grade lockers. “That award ceremony was awesome. You looked great up there, Maeve.”

Maeve felt embarrassed. She may have LOOKED okay,
but she hadn't said even one percent of what she'd wanted to.

“I blew it,” she told Dillon. “I meant to thank a zillion people. My friends, for helping me…and the kids at Jeri's Place…and my mom and dad…”

Dillon shrugged. “Well, I thought you were great,” he said loyally. “So. Want to go out and celebrate this Friday?”

Friday. Maeve couldn't believe her ears. This was for real. He was really and truly asking her out. OUT. As in—on a date! This question was not hard to answer.

“I'd love to!” she said. Beaming from ear to ear.

“Awesome!” Dillon looked happy. Happy—about going out with ME! Maeve thought. Her heart started to pound.

“I was thinking of getting some tickets to a Celtics game. My dad could drive us,” Dillon went on. He started talking about some of the players…who was injured, who they were up against. Maeve didn't exactly follow basketball, so none of what he was saying made sense to her. But she got the main point.

“Um…you mean like the Celtics—at the Fleet Center?” Maeve asked. That was all the way downtown.

“Yeah,” said Dillon. “Are you a Celtics fan?”

When Dillon had talked about going out, she'd assumed he meant to the movies or Montoya's or some place close by. Maeve had actually never been OUT with a boy before, unless you counted The Worst Night in History with Nick Montoya. And that hadn't involved getting a ride anywhere. It just involved all Maeve's plans to have a romantic movie night with Nick going completely awry. She had wanted to see
Gone With the Wind
. He couldn't wait to get to
Spider-Man
. What a disconnect!

She knew this was different. Different as in needing to ask permission. As in needing to ask her parents. Half of Maeve's
brain was thinking rationally. Just say you need to check and you'll get back to him. Not a big deal. You can even make it sound like you
might
have other plans (as if!). But the other half was excited beyond belief and didn't think about parents or asking permission or anything but saying yes right here, on the spot.

Maeve was almost dizzy with excitement. She didn't know what to think about first. What to wear…who to tell first…She tried to seem nonchalant as she fumbled with her locker combination. She did a rapid review of her wardrobe. Basketball game. Might be kind of chilly. Jeans and a sweater? Hair in a cute ponytail with a little Celtics cap?

She was so excited, she could barely even hear the rest of what Dillon said. It wasn't until after he'd left that Maeve suddenly remembered. Friday night was her first night staying over at Dad's place. She had completely, utterly forgotten that she had already made that commitment. They'd made plans to have dinner together first, and maybe see a movie. The three of them—Dad, Maeve, Sam. The excitement of being asked out…on a REAL DATE…just wiped that out of her mind, like a giant eraser. GONE.

Maeve stared at her locker dial in disbelief. How could this have happened?

Well, she couldn't let Dillon down now. No way. He was off to get tickets for the game, and she'd said she was going to go. She couldn't exactly call after him and tell him she'd made a mistake.

She'd have to explain to her dad and Sam. And they were just going to have to understand.

It's not like I can't have fun anymore
, Maeve told herself quickly. Just because Dad has to move out, that doesn't mean that my whole life has to stop in its tracks. Right? If Mom and
Dad hadn't separated I'd be FREE on Friday night. I could've said yes to the sleepover with my friends when they asked…and now to Dillon…

If you looked at it from a certain perspective, this wasn't Maeve's fault at all. It was her parents' fault.

Maeve had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Dillon had asked her out. This was really her first date, 'cause going to see
Gone With the Wind
with Nick…that didn't count. She'd asked HIM, and he'd thought they were just meeting to study. This was different! A real date, with the guy she'd had a crush on for almost EVER—well a couple of weeks, but it felt like forever.

A real date. This was different.

But weren't her parents going to think this was different, too? To the tune of: Why Didn't You Ask Us First?

Maeve set her chin stubbornly. She didn't want to ask because she was afraid they might tell her that she couldn't go. They'd say that she'd already made plans with Dad and Sam, and she had to keep those plans.

She wasn't sure how to figure everything out yet, but she knew she'd think of something.

 

Avery's Blog

“Mommmmm,” Avery wheedled, pulling a stool up to the kitchen table, where her mother was looking through her address book, pen in hand. “Mom, PLEASE let me have them here. It's just for a week. It'll be such a big help to Maeve.”

Her mother looked distracted. She was making a guest list for a big dinner party she was hosting on Saturday night. It was the last event in the Talbot Academy fund-raiser that she'd been helping to organize over the past several weeks.

“Avery, sweetie,” her mother said, sounding a million miles away, “this really isn't such a good time to talk about guinea pigs…I've got thirty people to call tonight. And after the Marty fiasco I am not sure I trust…”

Avery swiveled on the stool, catching herself when her mother set down her pen and gave her a look that said, “Please don't swivel on the kitchen barstool.”

“Mom,” Avery tried again. “I swear, these little guys are totally harmless. They're in a cage. And they won't even give you allergies. I looked it up on Google. Allergies to guinea pigs are extremely rare.”

Her mother sighed. “Avery, I know how much you love animals, and I am not allergic to guinea pigs, but I really don't care for rodents.”

“Please,” Avery begged, her voice shaking a little to keep from crying. She wanted to prove to her mother that she could be responsible for a furry pet.

Her mother looked thoughtfully at her. “Avery,” she said. “Will you PROMISE to take complete care of the guinea pigs? And promise me that they'll stay in your room the entire time that they're here? In your room AND in their cage?”

Avery flung her arms around her mother. “You are the best,” she whooped. “I promise, Mom. And I promise—you won't be sorry!”

Her mother sighed, turning back to her party list. “I hope not, Avery,” she said. “This is a crazy week—I'm having forty people here on Saturday night for dinner. One of the biggest benefactors of Talbot Academy is coming into town, and we're having a dinner here in his honor.” She took her reading glasses off and peered at Avery, an idea occurring to her. “Avery, do you think you could do me a huge favor on Saturday? Could you ask some of your friends to join us? I'd love for Mr. Jameson to meet you, and some of your friends. He was headmaster of the school when I was there and he left to work in the corporate world. He's a bit elderly, and it would be great for him to see what girls are like today.” She smiled. “I think he is still a bit on the old-fashioned side, and his idea of what twelve-and thirteen-year-old girls are like might need a bit of updating.”

“Sure, Mom,” Avery said, hopping off the stool. “I'll ask my friends to come. And we'll be on our best behavior,” she added, before her mother could even ask. “
Updated
behavior,” she added. “Updated, best behavior.”

If her mother was letting her bring over Ben and Ken—or whatever their names were this week—Avery could certainly help her out by showing up at her party. And if Mr. Jameson wanted to know what girls today were like, Avery and company could certainly show him an updated version!

Avery ran over to Maeve's apartment the minute her mom said yes, ready for her training session in guinea pig care. She had told Maeve she was coming later, but she didn't want to wait to get the guinea pigs. She was too worried that someone—Maeve or her mother—might change her mind. Avery wasn't going to risk that.

Maeve opened the door. She had her day planner in one
hand and her favorite feathery pen in the other. And she looked a little distracted.

“Hey,” Avery said, squeezing inside without waiting to be invited. “Are you okay?”

Maeve sighed. “I just don't get this calendar stuff. No matter how hard I try, I keep planning too many things for the same day.”

“Try writing notes on your mirror. That's what I do,” Avery said cheerfully.

Maeve glanced at her. She wanted to pour her heart out about Friday night and Dillon and her dad and Sam, and not having asked her parents and all of that, but it occurred to her that Avery wasn't exactly the most romantic of her best friends. She could be
so
practical. She'd probably just shrug and say, “Ask them.” She wouldn't see how problematic it all was. How her mom might say yes and her dad might say no. Or vice versa. Or how one or both of them might say, “Did you say yes to Dillon before asking us?” Or how likely it was that her mother would insist that she stick to her original plans. Or her father might act all hurt. Then they'd BOTH say no, and then she'd be in major trouble. Avery would never understand the complexity of it all.

Maeve had already pretty much decided it was simply too complicated to discuss this at all.

“So guess what? My mom said yes. I get to keep Ben and Jerry for a whole week!” Avery cried.

“Ben and JEN,” Maeve corrected her. “I am not going to let you have them if you can't even get their names straight,” she said as Avery began bounding up the stairs.

“Okay,” Avery said cheerfully. She held up two little pieces of braided lanyard. “Look—I even made them leashes, so I can take them on walks.”

Maeve looked horrified. “Avery!”

“Just kidding. I knew that,” Avery said. “So…can I take them home with me now?”

Maeve stared at her. She'd assumed that she'd have a little more warning than this. Besides, it wasn't at all clear from her expression how much Avery really DID know about taking care of guinea pigs.

“Give me the playbook, coach,” Avery said when they got to the room. She was looking at the list of instructions Maeve had typed up earlier. Avery couldn't keep still. She was clearly excited at the prospect of her two new room -mates. Lifting up the top, Avery reached into the cage and picked up a large furry ball that was asleep in the corner. “Which one is this?” she asked.

Maeve laughed and put the top back on the cage. “This is Jen. And you can't just pick them up like they're Beanie Babies or something. You have to keep the top on their cage. They need their food, and their bedding has to be changed every day. I'm going to have to give you loads of instructions.”

“MAEVE! Just tell me what to do. I'll be so super-careful. I swear,” Avery pleaded.

Maeve sighed. “Well, okay. I guess it'll be all right. But remember, it's only for one week. And you have to take really good care of them. Guinea pigs actually need a lot of tender loving care.”

Avery read over the sheet as Maeve began ticking off instructions on her fingers. “Guinea pigs love staying in their cages but you have to keep them clean.” She showed Avery the bedding material and how to change it. “You can just shred up newspaper—they don't mind.”

“Yikes! You've got some story in there about the Yankees!” Avery cried. “You're going to give these guys nightmares!”

Then Maeve instructed Avery on how much food the guinea pigs would need, and what kinds of table food she could give them.

“What about Caesar salad?” Avery's mother made a great salad, and the thought of little Ben and Zen munching on a crouton was too cute for words.

“No way!” Maeve said. “You can give them a little piece of lettuce but no dressing—that would make them sick.” And then as if reading Avery's mind, Maeve added, “No croutons, either.”

Maeve laughed. “But listen, you really have to know this stuff.” She went on, “And you can take them out to play, but be sure to keep them in a room with the door closed. And remember, you HAVE to put the top on the cage, or they'll climb out. Okay?”

“Okay. I've got it,” Avery said, sticking her fingers through the bars of the cage and tickling Ben under his chin. No wonder Maeve had trouble scheduling stuff. She took too long worrying about all these little details. “Don't worry, Maeve. I'll take great care of Ben and Zen, and you'll have them back safe and sound next week. I swear.”