Three's a Crowd (From the Files of Madison Finn, 16) (7 page)

And so the BFFs’ optical illusions page would have to wait.

After getting off the telephone with Fiona, Madison sent Aimee an e-card with little basset hound puppies on it; that was the same breed of dog as Aimee’s dog, Blossom. Blossom had recently had puppies of her own. As Madison was sending it, a message from Lindsay popped up on-screen. It was marked
TOP SECRET,
with a little red exclamation point.

From: LuvNStuff


To: MadFinn


Subject: TOP SECRET


Date: Thurs 25 Sept 11:02 AM


Okay. The mystery guy’s name is Josh Turner (BTW: it’s not Joshua either, just Josh, if that matters to you at all). He is in ninth grade. He plays hockey and he plays the accordion AND tuba (isn’t that bizarre? Who plays the accordion except polka bands? ) But this guy Josh isn’t in marching band or anything. I only know about the music because I overheard him talking to someone in the caf. Maybe he was actually just making a joke. Hmmmm. I followed him twice in school today when I saw him by the lockers and he was wearing a ripped cord jacket with patches on it. I think he looks a little like a TV actor, but I don’t know which one. He was alone both times I saw him (i.e. no girlfriend!) What else do you want to know?


xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo


Lindsay


p.s.: I know Aim is feeling really lousy so we haven’t started on the project but that’s ok b/c I heard in school today that they’re planning to make a big extension to the whole class on this project.


Yeah! Fiona sent me e-mail and said she’s feeling ok. How about u???


Madison coughed when she read the last part, as if testing herself to see how she
was
feeling. Unfortunately, the one dry cough turned into a whole coughing fit.

Gramma appeared at the bedroom door, looking worried. “We should head out to Dr. Pinkerton’s office,” she suggested.

“But my appointment isn’t until later,” Madison said.

“Let’s get you out of the house—and over to your doctor, now,” Gramma said. “The fresh air will do you some good.”

They said their good-byes to Mom again and left Phin in the kitchen with a half-filled bowl of kibble, a full water dish, and an actual dried pig’s ear, a disgusting snack that Mom had picked up for Phin at the supermarket.

Dr. Pinkerton’s office was packed. Although outside it was a beautiful day, it seemed as though all of Far Hills had contracted the flu.

Madison and Gramma sat in the waiting room for more than an hour before a nurse took them in to an examining room, where they waited for another half hour. The room smelled like antiseptic. Madison flipped through an issue of
Good Housekeeping
magazine. She found a funny article about celebrities and their dogs. Two different stars in the article had pugs—just as she did—but their pugs weren’t nearly as cute as Phinnie.

When they finally got in to see Dr. Pinkerton, he said that Madison’s bronchitis was still bad but that it would slowly disappear over the next few weeks. He told her that cough medicine alone wouldn’t do much good, which surprised Gramma.

“The best medicine is hot tea and sleep,” he said.

That made Gramma smirk. It was such a Gramma Helen thing to say. The doctor reported that, happily, Madison didn’t have any other major flu or bronchitis complications. Even though she’d been feeling hot, Madison’s fever was gone, and she would not be throwing up anymore. She didn’t need to return for any more visits unless there were an emergency.

Once they were back in the car again, heading home, Madison started coughing again.

“I go to the doctor, and he says I’m getting better. But then I’m out of the doctor’s office for five minutes and I’m sick again! How is that possible?” Madison moaned.

Gramma shrugged. “Murphy’s Law,” she said.

“Who’s Murphy?” Madison asked.

Gramma chuckled. “It’s just an expression. It means that if something can go wrong, it will.”

“No matter what Dr. Pinkerton says, when I start coughing I feel like I’m going to be sick
forever
,” Madison said.

“Nonsense,” Gramma said as she drove toward home. “Just give yourself a chance to get better. You’ve only been out of school for two days. You need your sleep, just as the doctor said….”

As they drove along, Madison gazed at the round sun sinking behind clouds. Madison loved September nights—the way the sky turned deep orange and pink. She could see the speckled landscape of bright stars even though the sky had not yet fully darkened.

“We were at the doctor’s for a long time,” Madison said. “I wish they hadn’t made us wait so long.”

“What should we have for supper?” Gramma asked. “How about chicken soup with ribbon pasta, or maybe chicken vegetable?”

“Chicken? Again?”

Madison chuckled to herself. One predictable thing about being sick was the menu: soup, soup, and (surprise!) more soup.

Mom was still not home when Gramma and Madison arrived. They ate soup and toast with Phin, played a few games of Crazy Eights, and settled in for the night. Madison put on cotton pajamas with rose and fuchsia-colored confetti circles; they were like a designer pair Madison had seen in a teen magazine. Gramma wrapped herself in a big, hand-knit cardigan. Together, they watched a romantic, made-for-TV-movie and each laughed whenever the other cried at the sappy parts.

By the time Mom arrived at home, Gramma had nodded off in the reclining chair.

Madison heard Mom go into the kitchen. She followed her.

“Hi, Mom,” Madison said. “You’re late.”

“I know,” Mom said, leaning toward Madison for a kiss. “What have you two been doing all day? Where’s Gramma?”

“Asleep,” Madison replied. “We hung out today. Went to see Dr. Pinkerton. My bronchitis is still pretty bad, so I guess I have to stay home from school another day,” she coughed. She told Mom exactly what the doctor had said.

Mom nodded. “That’s why Gramma is here. Extra TLC.”

They heard Gramma stir in her chair in the next room. She was snoring. Madison and Mom could hear her all the way in the kitchen.

Madison giggled.

“Why don’t you head up to your bedroom, Maddie?” Mom requested. “I’ll wake up your grandmother in a few minutes.”

Phin led the way upstairs. Madison was going to check her e-mail, but decided against it. Gramma was right. She did need some sleep.

Madison wandered over to close the curtains. As she stared out the window toward the house next door, she thought about her mysterious neighbor. Why hadn’t Madison ever seen Josh Turner at FHJH?

There weren’t any lights on next door, so Madison assumed that Josh and his family were out for the night—until a bright yellow lamp clicked on downstairs.

Madison bit her lip as she watched a light go on in an upstairs window, too. She saw someone move in the shadows. She could see a bed, a night table, and … a person … stepping into the light … with slightly reddish hair….

Yes!

It was Josh.

Madison grinned when she realized that he was there, wandering around in the half darkness of his bedroom. She sat down on the window seat and started to think about what it would have been like to meet him face to face. Had he ever noticed Madison at school? Had he ever looked through
her
window?

No!

Madison froze. Josh had his nose pressed up against the glass of his window. He was staring toward her room.

Quickly, Madison ducked behind her curtains.

When she leaned around to peek over at his window again, he waved.

Tentatively, Madison waved back. She fought hard to hold in her nervous giggles. What was happening here?

Josh held up a finger as if to say, “Hold on one moment!” and dashed away and out of sight. A moment later he returned to the window with a piece of yellow cardboard in his hands. On the cardboard was a message in black Magic Marker.

HI THERE

Madison almost fell over because she started laughing so hard.

HI THERE? It seemed so normal—but still weird.

Josh shrugged and waved the sign again, looking for some kind of response.

Madison was about to search for a pen and paper on which to write her own sign back, but she stopped. There were footsteps on the stairs. She couldn’t risk getting caught by Mom or Gramma in the middle of her window “conversation”! What should she do?

Phin nipped at her knees. Without a moment’s hesitation, Madison closed the curtain and jumped back. A few moments later, when Madison realized that she’d been hearing things and that no one had entered Madison’s room, she gently pulled back the curtain again, hoping to see another yellow sign.

But by then the light in Josh’s bedroom had been turned off. He wasn’t there. Madison collapsed on her window seat.

“Where did he go, Phinnie?” Madison asked aloud.

Phin let out a little bark, as if he wanted to climb into the window seat with Madison. She picked him up, pulled him into her lap, and gave him a cuddle.

Josh Turner. Josh Turner. Josh Turner.

Madison said his name over and over in her mind. Finally, they had made contact. He had made contact. With a sign!

For a person as superstitious as Madison, it was all about the signs.

She wondered what the next one would be.

Sicker


Last night I went to sleep dreaming of dreamy Josh Turner. I was thinking about what will happen when I head back to school next week. Maybe I’ll see him in the hallway and he’ll ask me to have lunch with him at his table in the cafeteria. That would just burn Poison Ivy if I got to sit with the ninth graders at lunch!


While I was thinking about all this, I got SICKER! I had a massive coughing fit and spent half an hour trying to stop this awful tickle in my throat. Gramma had to make me hot peppermint tea with honey. That was really nice of her but it was A MAJOR DRAG because after coughing for soooo long, I started to get this thumping headache. And to think, I thought I was getting better!!! I have the cold sweats, too. Gross. And Gramma said (of course) all of this is because I tried to do too much before I was better. There’s nothing worse than someone who says, “I told you so.” Ugh. So why do moms and grandmoms always say that?


Rude Awakening:
Just when I thought I was off and running—major relapse. Now I’m just
cough
and running.


The funny thing is that I called up Fiona and Aim and they both had a relapse, too. Fiona said she’s not moving out of bed and her Dad moved the TV into her bedroom. And Aimee’s mom made her these all-natural health elixirs from stuff like alfalfa and wheatgrass and chamomile. Gross.


Maybe I better listen to Gramma Helen next time she tells me how to get better.


Madison looked over at her bedroom clock. She debated whether or not to call Fiona or Aimee again, but decided against it since she’d already spoken to her BFFs twice that day.

Madison was starting to feel claustrophobic. She still had not changed out of the confetti-print pajamas from the night before, and her hair felt a little greasy. Being sick usually meant being lazy, especially when it came to clothes. Madison could live in the same T-shirt for a day…. or two … or more. But even she had to admit it was becoming grosser than gross. She’d take a shower later, she decided.

Madison was putting off the shower for the moment so that she could log on to her laptop again. Since she’d gotten sick, Madison had been spending a lot of her time online.

FROM           SUBJECT


JeffFinn      How’s My Girl?


Bigwheels     Hope Ur Feeling Better


Madison was happy to see that Dad had sent a get-well-soon e-mail. She missed him.

From: JeffFinn


To: MadFinn


Subject: How’s My Girl?


Date: Fri 26 Sept 9:09 AM


How do you cure a headache? Put your head through a window and the pane will disappear—HA-HA-HA! Like I told you on the phone, I’ve been swamped at meetings the last 24 hrs or so. I’m off to see another client in a few minutes! But I miss you so much. I’ve been thinking of you. Stephanie says you haven’t called so I assume that means you and Mom and Gramma Helen have things under control. Good!


What did the doc say after your second checkup? I’m coming back after the weekend so we have to plan dinner and a sleepover at our place when you feel good. That way I can make up for not being there to give you TLC right now.


I love you so much. Give Phin a hug for me.


Dad


Bigwheels had sent e-mail, too. Madison couldn’t believe it when she opened it up. The note was short and sweet with an attached musical message. When Madison clicked on the message icon, the song “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” started to play while Bigwheels’s words scrolled across the screen: