Letters from the Heart (7 page)

Avery was pacing around the kitchen, tugging at her soccer sock. Sunday morning. Thank heavens, her mother was sleeping late this morning. She'd been out fairly late the night before at a dinner—a reunion for her graduating class from Talbot Academy.

What a weekend. Avery couldn't believe that it had only been thirty-six hours with Marty. It already felt like forever!

No sooner had Avery and her friends gotten Marty settled on Friday evening than her mother had come home. She was in a great mood, full of energy and plans. She couldn't wait for her Talbot reunion.

“Avery, I haven't seen these old friends of mine for years. It's just so nice catching up with them and finding out what they've been up to.” Avery had heard people describe her mother as a “people person” and she knew what they meant. Elizabeth Madden—she was called “Bif” for short—collected friends the way some people collect pottery or CDs. She was unbelievably friendly—Avery was always dying of embarrassment, listening to her mom go on and on when she met people—even people at the grocery store! She had a huge heart and she loved hearing other people's stories. The most embarrassing was when she talked about Avery right in front of her.

“I can't help being proud of you,” her mother always said, leaning over to tweak her daughter's ponytail. Avery grimaced. She didn't know how to tactfully let her mother know that she hated it when her mother bragged about her. “She's on the premier-level soccer team!” her mother would say—even before anyone asked. Ouch! Sure, it was nice her mom was proud of her. But couldn't she be SILENT about it?

“I promised Sally Henderson that I'd find our old yearbooks so we could look at them tomorrow night at
dinner,” her mother was saying as she came into the house on Friday night. “Avery, would you help me tomorrow morning? I know they're up in the loft of the carriage house, but I'm not sure where. Do you have time before soccer practice to help me look for them?”

Avery gulped. The loft? Of the carriage house?

Her mother hadn't been in the carriage house in ages. Why did she suddenly have to go rummaging around up there looking for old yearbooks? Of all the bad luck in the world. What was Avery supposed to do about Marty?

Well, that was crisis number one. Avery had to use all her ingenuity on that one. The only thing she could think of was to wait until her mom was in bed—and that wasn't until almost eleven o'clock!—and then sneak out to the carriage house and grab Marty. AND all of his stuff. It took three separate trips. She couldn't think where to hide him, but she finally decided that the laundry room was the best idea. At least it was warm down there, and her mother never did laundry on the weekends.

But Marty did not like being transplanted in the least. He kept cocking his head and looking pleadingly at her, as if he were saying, “
Stay with me.
” If only she could. She hated leaving Marty alone.

Saturday morning, Avery overslept. Who could help it? She'd been up 'til midnight trying to calm Marty down and keep him quiet. She could hear him whimpering through the heating vents. What if her mother had heard, too?

But on Saturday morning her mother seemed focused on yearbooks. “Come help me, Avery,” she said enthusiastically, throwing open the door and letting the sunlight stream in. “I'm dying to find those yearbooks. Let's go hunt for them!”

Avery rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Yawning, she
threw on a pair of sweats and followed her mother downstairs. They were just at the back door when she heard it—a definite, distinct yelp.

Marty. Wanting to go out.

Avery's mother turned and looked at her. “What was that?” she demanded.

“Ohh—that was me. Sorry. I just kind of…squeaked a little. It was a yawn that turned into a sneeze,” Avery improvised. She grabbed her jacket. “Come on, let's go find those yearbooks!”

Her mother frowned, looking down at the heat vent. “Are you sure that was you, Avery? 'Cause I could have sworn—”

“Seriously, Mom. I'm gonna be late for soccer if we don't get going,” Avery said.

Five minutes later she was making her way up the ladder at the back of the carriage house, flashlight in hand. “Mom, what on earth have you GOT up here?” she cried. The loft of the carriage house was filled with cobwebs and boxes…and stacks of books.

“You're going to have to come up and look. I don't know where to begin,” she added.

“There's a big box marked TALBOT ACADEMY,” her mother called up to her. Then her voice changed expression. “Avery, what's this?” she demanded.

Avery turned around and peered back down at her.

Shoot. Her mother was holding up Marty's leash. It must've fallen down the night before when she was making her last trip with Marty's blankets and food bowl.

“Uh…I…uh, I don't know,” Avery stammered. Brilliant. “I think it's a leash,” she added lamely.

“I can see that. But what's it DOING here?” her mother asked.

Avery didn't answer.

Her mother rubbed her eyes with a frown on her face. “Avery,” she said suddenly, “I feel a little itchy.”

“It must be the dust,” Avery said helpfully. “It's really dusty in here, Mom. You shouldn't be in here.”

Meanwhile her mind was racing. It wasn't going to take her mother long to put two and two together. The leash…the yelping sounds coming from the basement…

Fortunately, her mother's cell phone had rung. It was Sally, eager to make plans to meet before the dinner.

“Saved by the bell,” was the way Avery explained it on Sunday to Isabel and Maeve.

“But this afternoon she's having a whole bunch of Talbot people over for tea to plan the event. What am I going to do with Marty? He keeps making
noises
down there,” Avery cried.

“We'll have to smuggle him out somehow,” Isabel said. “Maybe Maeve and I can take him to the park this afternoon until Charlotte gets back.”

“Yeah! Let's just take him back to your house, Maeve,” Avery suggested.

“I can't!” Maeve said quickly. When Isabel and Avery looked quizzically at her she added, “I mean…it just wouldn't work out today.” How could she let her friends come over? Her dad was busy packing up boxes right in the middle of the living room!

“Maeve, things can't be worse at your place than mine,” Avery said.

If you only knew
, Maeve thought miserably. But she didn't tell Avery. “Okay,” she said at last, trying to figure out a solution while she talked. “I can just take him to the park, I guess…or keep him outside and away from Sam until Charlotte gets back.”

The three girls huddled up in Avery's room, trying to make a plan. Finally they agreed that the best thing to do would be to smuggle Marty out in Avery's soccer bag and take him to the park. All they had to do was to get past Avery's mother. And that wasn't going to be easy.

“Does she always talk on the phone for so long?” Isabel demanded, peering down over the banister.

“She
loves
the phone,” Avery admitted. “She's worse than my brother, and that's saying a lot. My mom is the friendliest woman in all of Brookline. I just wish she weren't quite so friendly right now. I wish she could kind of hole up in her study for an hour or so and let us make a quick Marty getaway.”

“Avery!”

“Good—she's off now,” Avery whispered.

Avery's mother came up the stairs, beaming when she saw Isabel and Maeve. “Hi girls!” She gave them a quick wave. “Did Avery tell you about the reunion tea I'm having today? Would you girls like to stick around and help out?”

“They can't,” Avery said abruptly. “I mean—sorry, Mom, but they're SO busy. They have to go to the library and work on the Heritage Museum project.”

“Tea sounds so nice,” Isabel began, but Avery nudged her in the ribs.

“Avery, I'm trying to find that peach-colored blouse of mine. Have you seen it?” her mother asked. “I've looked everywhere. I thought Carla might have put it in your closet.” Carla was the Maddens' housekeeper. “Oh, I know! It must be down in the laundry.” She rubbed her eyes. “That's funny…I thought the ragweed season was over. My eyes feel a little itchy.”

Avery panicked. She jumped up, grabbing her mother by the arm. “NO!” she shrieked. “I mean, don't wear that
peach blouse. That looks so…um…” She looked helplessly at her friends. Avery didn't know enough about clothes to come up with the right description here. She needed help.

“It's just the wrong color,” Maeve broke in quickly.

“Avery,” her mother said, staring at her. “Since when are you so interested in what I wear? You've never cared before about clothes.” She was about to say something else, but a big sneeze overpowered her.

“Bless you,” Isabel said promptly.

“I just want you to look good, that's all,” Avery said. “You know that really fuzzy sweater of yours? That blue one? That would look awesome with what you're wearing.”

Her mother looked amazed. “You really think so, Avery?” She inspected her navy blue slacks, puzzled. “Well, maybe you're right. Okay. I'll go get it.” She seemed a little pleased that Avery was suddenly so interested in what she was wearing—clearly a first.

“Phew,” Avery said, when her mother was out of the room. “That was SO close.”

She shut the door behind her, turning to face Isabel and Maeve.

“Okay. We better get Marty out of here. NOW.” Avery sounded desperate.

Smuggling Marty out of the laundry room proved to be harder than it seemed. Avery's mother was opening up the door for the first of her guests, her laughter bubbling up as the girls crept down to the laundry room. Her laughter…and several very loud sneezes.

“I knew this wasn't a good idea, Avery. It really isn't fair to your mom,” said Maeve.

Avery looked down at her shoes. “I know. I feel really awful. It's just that I so wanted to have Marty with me for a
little while. I just didn't think it through. I thought I could protect my mother and have Marty too. Just my luck. She never goes in that carriage house.”

“Well,” said Isabel. “You probably should have just told her from the beginning.”

“Yeah, you should have, Ave.”

Suddenly, Scott stood right in front of them, Marty in his arms. The little guy was overjoyed to see all the girls. He squirmed vigorously in Scott's arms, obviously wanting to get to his girls. “Settle down, little dude,” Scott said sternly to Marty, who cocked his head and suddenly became very still.

Maeve, Isabel, and Avery stared at Scott nervously. They all felt a little intimidated. Avery spoke up first.

“I know, Scott. I made a big mistake and now Mom is sneezing and we just want to get Marty out as soon as possible. I don't want Mom to have a full-blown allergy attack.”

Then she asked sheepishly, “Will you help us?”

“Help you? Mmm…let's see…”

Exasperated, Avery snapped at him. “Come on Scott, please. I do stuff for you all the time.”

Scott took a deep breath which seemed to the girls to last a lifetime. “Okay,” he finally said with a smile. Give me the bag with the dog and I'll meet you guys in the park.”

“SSSHhh,” Avery said, holding open the soccer bag. “Hop in, little guy.”

But Marty didn't want to go anywhere. He sat back on his haunches, panting happily, his bright eyes moving from one girl to the next.

“Marty, COME ON. We've got to go,” Avery said pleadingly.

Marty consented to crawl into the soccer bag after Maeve threw in a doggie chew. But the minute he was inside he started barking.

“Okay, you guys go upstairs and try to keep Mom and her friend distracted. I'll sneak him out the back door,” Scott said.

The girls were halfway up the stairs when they heard Avery's mother's voice. “It's so strange,” she was saying to her friend. “I seem to be getting a little bit of a rash. I have no idea what can be causing this! It's almost as if—”

She came out into the hallway, her glance falling on the wriggling soccer bag. “Scott, what have you got in that bag?” Isabel and Maeve, their expressions a mixture of embarrassment and fear, didn't know what to do. Avery's mother was rubbing both of her arms, looking back and forth from Avery and Scott to the wiggling soccer bag. Suddenly Scott leaned in and gave his mother a kiss. “Gotta go, Mom. I'll catch you later,” and he bolted out the door.

“What is going on here Avery? Was there a dog in that bag? AVERY,” her mother said loudly. “What are you all up to?” A sneeze shook her whole body.

“Ooops! We've got to run, too,” Avery said, running after Scott, with Maeve and Isabel hurrying after her.

“Avery Koh Madden,” Mrs. Madden said suddenly, “I think you and I better have a talk later—” Another sneeze came.