Vampalicious! (10 page)

“You do?” Mrs. Abbott looked surprised.

Not too enthusiastic, you dingbat!
Ivy thought to herself.
This is supposed to be Olivia’s therapy!

“What I’m trying to say”—she looked at Olivia’s mom sincerely—“is that it’s really helping.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Abbott threw her arms around her and hugged her close. “I’m so happy to hear that.” She pulled back slightly and patted Ivy’s cheek. “Let’s go get you a soda.”

Ivy followed Olivia’s mother up the aisle and out to the lobby.
It’s awfully nice having a mom,
she thought to herself
.

As they stood in line for the concession stand, everyone was buzzing excitedly about how great the show was. Ivy was trying to eavesdrop on the conversation the people in front of her were having about the costumes when she overheard someone say, “We’ve finally secured the funds for the largest art exhibit in the history of the museum!”

Ivy recognized Walter Grosvenor, the curator of the Franklin Grove Art Museum, standing at the bar. She’d know him anywhere, because he had that classic vamp hairstyle with gray hair on the sides and slick, pitch-black hair on top. He picked up his drink and pressed through the crowd, followed by an enormous man in a fancy dark suit and an enormous floppy red bow tie.

“Oh?” the heavy man said. “What will the exhibit be?”

“A permanent installation dedicated to the history of Franklin Grove,” Mr. Grosvenor said as he walked by Ivy. “All we need is a long-standing member of the community to design it and serve as its permanent curator.” He rested his drink on the ledge of a pillar.

My dad would bite his own neck to design an exhibit at the Franklin Grove Art Museum!
Ivy thought. She tried to hear more, but Audrey was talking.

“I’ll never forget the night you saw
The Wizard of Oz
on TV,” Mrs. Abbott said. “You loved it at first.”

Ivy nodded her head automatically, inching closer to Mr. Grosvenor. He was saying something about “someone with a passion for the arts and a deep appreciation for the diversity of Franklin Grove.”

“But then that woman with the crooked nose came on and said ‘I’ll get you, my pretty!’ ” Audrey said. They crept forward in line, and Mr. Grosvenor fell out of range. Ivy tapped her toe nervously, desperate to hear more. Finally it was their turn, and the moment the bartender handed Ivy her drink, she said, “Let’s go stand over there,” gesturing toward the post where Mr. Grosvenor was standing with his friend.

Audrey followed her gaze. “Brian Warchuck!” She gasped. “Why didn’t you say you saw him! My, he’s grown.”

“Huh?” said Ivy. Then she saw that, standing directly on the opposite side of the pillar from Mr. Grosvenor was a lanky, pimply teenaged boy in a skinny tie.

Olivia’s mom grabbed her hand and plunged through the crowd. “Brian!” she called. “You remember my daughter, Olivia, Olivia Abbott?”

Brian Warchuck turned a brighter shade of red than Ivy thought possible, even for a human. “Olivia Abbott?” he squeaked.

“Hi,” Ivy said tentatively. She angled her head toward the pillar. From what she could tell, Mr. Grosvenor was now talking about German Expressionism.

“Olivia still talks about you!” Mrs. Abbott said.

“I do?” Ivy responded.

“You do?” Brian gawked. A bead of sweat emerged in the middle of his forehead.

“One never forgets her first love,” Mrs. Abbott said wistfully, “even if it happened in kindergarten.”

No way!
Ivy thought. Brian Warchuck stared at her with a dreamy, toothy grin. His hair was plastered to his head, and he had exactly three reddish whiskers protruding from his chin.

“So what brings you to Franklin Grove, Brian?” Mrs. Abbott asked. “We’ve only lived here since September.”

“W-we moved to Creemore a few years ago,” Brian stammered, unable to take his eyes off Ivy. “It’s only two towns over.” His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “I still have your blue blankie, Olivia. Do you still have my fuzzy bear?”

“I don’t think so.” Ivy shook her head.

“You threw Fuzzy out?” Brian’s lip trembled. “But you said you would never abandon Fuzzy!”

Flap, flap!
 Ivy thought, and her mouth went bone dry. What if Brian was onto her? She looked at Olivia’s mom’s desperately.

“Of course you have that teddy bear, honey,” Mrs. Abbott said. “It’s on the shelf in your room.”

Ivy almost collapsed with relief. “Oh,
that
bear,” she croaked gratefully. “Of course.”

The lights in the lobby flashed on and off, signaling everyone to return to their seats for the second act.

“Oh, well. Time to go back in. Bye!” Ivy said desperately.

“I can take a bus to see you sometime,” Brian offered.

“You should probably call first,” Ivy said quickly before tugging Mrs. Abbott toward the doors to the auditorium.
I have got to talk to Olivia about her taste in boys,
she thought.

“We’re in the white pages under ‘Abbott’!” Olivia’s mom called over her shoulder.

As they took their seats, Ivy’s mind returned to Mr. Grosvenor, the opening at the art museum, and her friends’ plan to keep her dad in Franklin Grove.

He’s the perfect candidate for that museum job
, she thought,
but he’d never put himself up for consideration.

“You should have given Brian your e-mail address,” Audrey whispered in her ear as the actors took the stage.

That’s it!
thought Ivy.
I’ll send the museum curator an e-mail on behalf of my dad!

“Good thinking,” Ivy whispered back. “Thanks, Mom!”

Olivia carefully folded a pair of black cargo shorts and put them atop the other clothes in a cardboard box. She grabbed the tape gun off Ivy’s bed and sealed the box shut. Then she took a black marker and wrote on the side: IVY’S SUMMER CLOTHES. She collapsed on the bed.
 Ouch!
She reached underneath herself and pulled out one of Ivy’s huge black purses, brimming with cosmetics and school supplies.
At least if Ivy has to move,
she thought sadly
, she’ll have a few boxes that are neatly packed.

Olivia had been half relieved, half disappointed when she got to Ivy’s house and found a note from Mr. Vega saying he’d be home late. On the one hand, she didn’t have to worry about keeping up her Ivy act. But on the other, she’d been quite excited about spending some time with her father. She wanted to show him what he’d be missing if he moved—how nice and smart and cool she was—even if he did think she was actually Ivy.

At that moment, Olivia heard a noise from upstairs. “Ivy!” Mr. Vega’s voice called. “I need your help!”

Olivia sprang to her feet and bounded to the mirror on the inside of one of Ivy’s wardrobe doors. She shook her body to get her perk out and brushed her hair down in front of her face with her hands.

“Coming,” she called. All of a sudden, she felt totally nervous.
What if he sees through the switch?
she thought.

She speed trudged upstairs to the foyer, bracing herself for the moment Mr. Vega first saw her dressed as Ivy. But when she got there, her father’s back was to her, his heels dug into the stone floor. In the dim light, he was trying to pull what looked like an enormous gray furry beast through the front door by its tiny head. “Help... me,” he groaned.

“What is that thing?” Olivia squealed, immediately kicking herself because her sister would never be so excitable.

“The Christmas tree,” her dad said with a gasp. “It’s stuck!”

Sure enough, Olivia could see that her father wasn’t grabbing monster fur at all—he was holding the branches of an enormous tree. Strangely, the leaves were silvery gray instead of green.

Her father grunted with effort. Olivia ran up to where the tree met the doorway, but there wasn’t any place for her to grab on. She bent down and saw that there was a small space between the tree and the doorjamb.

“Hurry!” her father called hoarsely.

Olivia scooted underneath on all fours and emerged outside, where the chill of the air immediately pricked her skin. She hurried to the bottom of the tree and pushed on its cut trunk. Nothing budged. She tried again. Nothing.

“P-O-W
,”
she cheered quietly to herself as she leaned into the tree with all her might, “E and R! That’s how you get the power!”

All at once, the tree slipped through the door like a giant pipe cleaner. Inside, there was a terrible crash. Olivia rushed in.

Her father was splayed on the floor, the tip of the tree in his lap. He was laughing. Olivia couldn’t remember if she’d ever heard him laugh like that before.

“Now that is the way to bring in the Christmas spirit!” he said giddily.

“Are you okay?” Olivia asked.

“Now I am,” he said. “Thank you, Ivy. You always were strong and clever.”

“Thanks,” said Olivia softly. It felt good to hear him compliment her, even if he didn’t know it was her.

“I had wanted to surprise you,” Mr. Vega admitted. He reached into the back pocket of his pants and handed Olivia a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it with trembling fingers.

It was the charcoal drawing he’d been working on a few days ago, when Olivia and her sister had interrupted him in his study. She could see now that it was a design for the most amazing Christmas tree ever.

“It’s a silver ash,” her father told her. “I ordered it specially.”

In the drawing, the Christmas tree looked almost as enormous as it was in real life, reaching from floor to ceiling of the foyer. The whole thing was so elaborately decorated that it looked covered in a delicate spiderweb of sparkling ornaments. On its top was the silhouette of a bat.

“It’s beautiful,” Olivia whispered.

“I wanted to do something special for you”— her father smiled gently—“to celebrate our last Christmas in this house.”

“Thanks... Dad. I love it,” Olivia said genuinely. Then he reached over and gave her a big hug, and Olivia’s heart almost burst.

“Can we decorate it tonight?” she asked after a second.

He shook his head. “Not tonight, darling. It’s too late. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Olivia said softly, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

A little while later, Olivia lay in the dark on top of her sister’s coffin, replaying in her mind the moment when her father had hugged her. She smiled to herself.
Maybe Ivy will agree to switch again tomorrow
, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
Maybe my father and I can decorate the tree together.