California Diaries #7: Dawn, Diary Two (7 page)

I love my brother. He’s an original.

“Jeff,” I said, “You did the best thing. It’s a great present.”

“And it looks terrific in Gracie’s room,” said Carol. She looked from Dad to me.

“It really does. I love all the colors. And Gracie will too.”

“This room was looking a little wimpy,” Dad said.

Carol held Gracie out to Jeff. He took her very carefully, held her in the crook of his arm, and faced her toward the poster.

“Gracie, that’s Michael Jordan,” he said. “He’s our hero.”

Gracie raised her little fist and punched the air as if to say, “All right!”

I better pack.

Sunday/Monday (midnight)

I’m all packed and ready for my summer in Stoneybrook.

I was putting the last things in my suitcase when I heard a soft cry from Gracie’s room. I ran down the hall to check on her. Carol and my dad were trying to sleep between feedings. I wanted to quiet Gracie before she woke them up. I lifted her out of her crib and sat in the rocker with her cradled in my arms.

“Did you have a bad dream, little sister?” I whispered. “It happens. But I’m here.

I’ll make it better.” She stopped crying. “I have to go away. But you have a mother and father who adore you.” I gently stroked her wisps of soft blonde hair. “I’ll be back.

We’re going to have a wonderful time being sisters. I promise you.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It startled me, but I realized it was my father before I screamed. I know he overheard me talking to Gracie, but I didn’t care.

“She’s so tiny, Dad,” I said.

He sighed. “She’s a big responsibility. I can’t sleep. I keep waking up to check on her.” He reached into his bathrobe pocket and took out a framed picture. “I had this made up for you,” he said. “So you’d have it for Stoneybrook.”

He held the picture near the night-light so I could see it better. IT was a photo Dad had taken of me holding Gracie the day she came home from the hospital. In it Gracie has on the “I’m here!” T-shirt.

I smiled up at my father. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I love that photo,” he said. “My two girls. I framed a copy of it for my office desk too. And I framed a picture for Jeff, one of him standing with Gracie in front of the Michael Jordan poster.” He handed me an envelope. “Here are copies of the rest of the pictures from the roll. I figured you would want to show them to your mother and the rest of your Stoneybrook family and friends.”

“That’s perfect, Dad,” I told him.

And it was.

I said good night to my father, kissed my sister, and went back to my room. I’ll miss my West Coast room and my house. But I’m beginning to think about my other room—the one on the East Coast. I like that room too.

And I have a mother in Stoneybrook. I realize I’ve missed her a lot lately. It’ll be so wonderful to wake up in the morning and know my mother is in the same house. I also remember that I have good friends in Stoneybrook. And another sister. And a stepfather whom I’ve come to like a lot. We have a great time together.

I’m starting to look forward to tomorrow and the net day and the day after that.

It’s summertime. Time for fun.

Everything will be here when I comeback.

Maybe in the fall Maggie and I can become better friends. I’ll try even harder to understand her. I also want to become better friends with Amalia and Ducky.

The hardest person to leave is Sunny. I can see her house from my window. I

remember the summer we’d sit near our windows and talk with walkie-talkies. That seems so long ago.

Where is that Sunny? Where is our old friendship?

Have I changed too?

I feel an ache in my heart whenever I think of Sunny. We didn’t outgrow one

another, the way you do some friends and certain childhood things like your training wheels, or certain clothes, or playing with dolls. I didn’t outgrow Sunny, I lost her and I shouldn’t have. Something went terribly wrong with our friendship. And it should not have happe

I thought I just saw Sunny at her window. I waved. I waited to see if the curtains would part and her window would fly open. I held my breath. Maybe this was it. Maybe I’d go over to her house and we’d talk through the night until it was time for my flight tomorrow. Maybe she’d even ride out to the airport with me. Please, Sunny, I thought.

Please wave back.

I waved again. Nothing.

Maybe she wasn’t even there.

I could telephone her. And say what? “Good-bye.” And then what?

Why doesn’t Sunny call me? She knows I’m going away tomorrow.

Maybe one night of talking isn’t enough to fix what has gone wrong between us.

For the first time in my life I’m going away without saying good-bye to Sunny. I wish with all my heart it wasn’t so.

But it is.