Girls Only! (11 page)

Cool stuff
, she thought. The gym was pure heaven on earth.

For as long as Jenna could remember, she had been testing her balancing ability on the narrow curbs in her neighborhood. Or on the lines of a checkered kitchen floor. As a preschooler, she’d posed on a step stool in front of the TV, pretending to be an Olympic medalist. And in her imagination, the crowd was always cheering. For her!

When she was three, her mother had enrolled her in a preschool gymnastics group called Tumble Tots. Jenna caught on quickly, and by the time she was in kindergarten, she was showing other tiny gymnasts how to tuck their knees for a forward or backward somersault. “Teacher’s little helper,” her coaches used to say.

She was still the shortest girl on her team. But Jenna didn’t mind being petite. The closer a gymnast was to the ground, the better advantage in overall performance. At eleven, she was more than confident with her moves. Stunts like the back handspring, walkover, and the straddle split. She could perform her entire floor, vault, and balance beam routines without help from Coach Kim or his Russian-born wife, Tasya.

Today she focused her attention on a long, hard workout. In two short weeks, the eight-member All-Around Team would compete in downtown Colorado Springs—at the Olympic Training Center!

“Think we’re ready?” she asked Cassie as they changed clothes in the locker room.

“We have to iron the small things,” the tall, slender girl said, grinning with thumbs up.

“Right!” But Jenna wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t concentrate today. Her thoughts were on the baby who was coming to upset her house. Would she get her required sleep? Or would the baby howl and fuss all night? Babies made lots of racket, she knew. Her aunt and uncle
had just had a new baby. Most of the time they looked wiped out. Being sleep deprived was
not
an option for a gymnast!

Worried, Jenna taped her hands, then began her stretching exercises and aerobics with the team. After forty minutes, her muscles felt pliable, like warm honey. She started work on her individual routine, aware of the soft-crash pads beneath her bare feet. Waiting for the musical cue, she practiced her salute for the judge, who today happened to be her coach, Benjamin Kim.

“Push . . . push to perfection,” Coach Kim called, his hands high in the air.

Jenna focused her attention on her tumbling moves, especially the salto, front pike somersault, and aerial walkover. “Okay, time to show your stuff,” she whispered to herself.

Impatiently, she bounced on her toes, anxious to start. She waited . . . and waited. But she heard no music floating through the speakers. Coach went to investigate.

While she waited, Jenna performed several back walkovers. All the while, she thought of the startling email. The one from the Denver adoption agency. The one that might change the outcome of her entire gymnastics future!

She’d made an attempt to talk to her parents last night—after Livvy Hudson left. But by the time Jenna printed out the important email, her dad was already busy
with Sunday sermon notes. And her mother was talking on the phone to a sick church member.

Jenna had gone to bed without saying a word to either of them. As long as it was her secret, maybe it might not happen, she reasoned. Feeling terribly left out, she’d tried to tell God about her worries but didn’t get very far before falling into a nightmarish sleep.

Now, as she anticipated the jazz melody to her floor routine, she knew she couldn’t put off talking to her parents. She’d go right home and tell them about the baby. If she waited too long, the certified letter would arrive anyway. It was do or die!

Finally the musical selection began with the smooth, clear sound of the saxophone. Though Jenna had practiced the routine hundreds of times, she hesitated at the take-off point, arms out, chin up, toes pointed.

“You can do it, Jen!” shouted Coach Kim from the outside edge of the mat.

“We’re rooting for you!” her teammates cheered and clapped.

“Go, girl!” shouted Cassie.

But hard as she tried, Jenna froze up on her tumbling pass and didn’t go far enough on her somi-and-a-half. Her back handsprings were sloppy, and she tilted the landing on her aerial cartwheel.

All Jenna wanted to do was cry.

Only the Best

Chapter Three

Jenna confessed to her parents about the information she’d kept secret. “An email for Dad came through from the adoption agency,” she said at supper, glancing at each of them. “You’re getting a baby . . . very soon.”

Her mother’s eyes were wide with delight. And when she tried to talk, she nearly blubbered. “Oh, we had no idea . . . no idea at all that something would happen this quickly. My goodness! What wonderful news!”

Yeah
,
wonderful
, thought Jenna.

Her father spoke up. “The caseworker told us we were in for a fairly long wait. So far, it’s only been ten months since the initial application was approved.”

“I’ll call the agency first thing Monday,” her mom added quickly. “They’ll tell us if the baby is a boy or girl.”

“We requested a
boy
,” Dad spoke up. His face was actually glowing, like it was Christmas Eve or something.

Jenna couldn’t stand it any longer. She stared down at her plate, a lump growing in her throat.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked her mother. “Are you all right?”

She could hardly speak. “I . . . I thought you were happy with just me.” Her words came out all squeaky.

“Oh, honey, we
are
. . . we’re very happy.” Dad reached across the table for her hand. “Mom and I have plenty of love to go around . . . enough for the new baby, too. We talked this over with you and the caseworker months ago. Remember?”

Jenna held in the sobs that threatened to burst out. Months ago? Back then she figured adopting a baby was probably years away for them. Maybe even never.

Dad continued. “And about using your computer . . . well, I knew you wouldn’t mind. It was a handy way to keep in touch with our caseworker now and then,” he said almost apologetically.

She nodded. Borrowing her computer wasn’t the problem.

“We love you dearly, Jenna. And your mother and I want to give an orphaned child a chance. Make a difference somehow.”

His words made Jenna feel even worse. “What about
gymnastics and ballet? What will happen with that?” She couldn’t continue. If she did, she might cry. And that would mean she was a selfish little brat. She certainly didn’t want her parents to think
that
of her!

“Life will go on, same as always,” Dad said, refolding his napkin. “You’ll still attend gymnastics and ballet and school and church.”

She hoped he was right, but it was hard to believe. Everything was going to change. She was sure of it!

Mom got up to clear the table. “We’ll all travel together to greet our new baby,” she said, looking suddenly younger than her years.

All of us?

“When?” Jenna asked.

“The certified letter will surely tell us,” Dad said. He sat tall at the head of the table, his regular place. But tonight he looked more handsome than usual. His black hair shone in the soft luster of the dining room chandelier. His face was determined but compassionate.

Mom reread the email printout. “Sounds like we’ll be hearing any day now.”

Jenna wouldn’t hold her breath for it. As long as the letter hadn’t arrived, she could focus on the gymnastics meet. And something else, too. She had a feeling Coach Kim was going to make her captain of the team.

“I wish you would’ve told me we might be getting a baby this year,” she said at last. “It’s hard to think of
someone that tiny . . . and noisy fitting in around here. With the three of us.”

Mom placed a dessert dish of peach cobbler on the table. “Adopting a baby will take some getting used to,” she said.

Dad smiled. “But we’re willing to do whatever it takes to welcome a precious homeless child into our hearts.”

Mom sat down and began dishing up the dessert. Her eyes twinkled with anticipation, and Jenna couldn’t remember ever seeing her this excited.

“I can hardly believe it,” Mom said. “We’re going to have a brand-new baby in the house. Very soon!”

“Yes, and we’re going to give him or her lots of love,” Dad said, accepting a generous serving of cobbler with a smile.

Jenna listened, staring at her dessert. They could go right ahead and shower plenty of love on their new baby, she decided. But what about
her?
Would they forget about their firstborn and her gymnastic goals?

Only the Best

Chapter Four

Sunday afternoon, Jenna sat cross-legged on her bed and picked up the telephone. She punched the buttons to call Livvy.

“Hudson residence” came the delicate voice of Livvy’s grandmother.

“Oh, hi,” she said. “May I speak to Livvy, please? This is Jenna Song.”

“Just one moment.”

When Livvy answered, Jenna told her the latest. “My parents are so thrilled about the baby. They’re dying to get some more details. Mom’s calling the agency tomorrow.”

“So they really
are
adopting a baby,” Livvy said cheerfully. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah, well, guess again.”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” asked Livvy. “Are you really that upset about it?”

Jenna clammed up. A long pause followed.

“Well?” Livvy was pushing. “Are you gonna talk to me or not?”

Sighing, Jenna asked, “Whose side are you on?”

“What are you talking about?” Livvy sounded puzzled. “Do you really think I’m against you?”

“You mean you aren’t?”

“ ’Course not,” Livvy said. “I just think you sound, uh, insanely jealous.”

She felt hideous. Livvy had no right! “Look, this conversation’s going nowhere,” Jenna said, the anger creeping into her cheeks.

“Well, you called
me
,” Livvy replied. “So I guess you have the right to hang up whenever you want.”

“Oh, is
that
how you feel?”

Click!

Jenna hung up on her friend. She dropped the receiver back into the cradle and just stared at it. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered, fighting back tears.

Livvy would be terribly hurt. She didn’t deserve this sort of treatment. Not after losing her mom to cancer and having to move away from her Chicago hometown all in the space of a few months. Not after just moving here to Alpine Lake, Colorado—same as Jenna’s family.

“Ohhh!” she groaned, lying there in her pajamas. “My whole life is falling apart!”

She could see it now. Her mom would want to rush out and start shopping for baby things. Years ago, they’d given away Jenna’s old crib and high chair, so they were starting over from scratch. Starting over in more ways than one!

And there was the nursery. Her parents would expect her to help them fix up the old guest room—turn the small room into something special.

On top of everything else, there probably wouldn’t be time for anyone to drive her to gymnastics anymore. Mom would be too busy planning and preparing for the blessed baby event.

She sighed, worrying over every possible detail.
Once the baby arrives, what then?
she wondered.

Jenna skipped reading her Bible and her devotional book. She didn’t bother to pray even the shortest prayer. Crawling into bed, she curled up in a ball. Hot tears slid down her face and onto the pillow. “Why me?” she cried. “Why
now?
”

Only the Best

Chapter Five

“Our big day is Saturday, December fifth,” Jenna’s mother announced at breakfast two days later. She held the certified letter in her hand.

Jenna felt her heart thumping hard. “December fifth? No way!” she said, her spoon in midair.

“What do you mean?” Dad said, looking aghast. “That’s the day of my gymnastics meet at the Olympic Training Center,” Jenna blurted.

Dad was silent, and Mom was beginning to look mortified. “We’ll just have to work something out,” she said.

“No! I can’t skip this event, Mom!” Jenna insisted. “I’ve been working forever to compete with the team.”

Her mother nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “I didn’t mean that you’d have to miss the
meet. Of course we want you to attend . . . and to do your very best.”

Jenna had always been one to overlook things, including conflict with friends at school and church. She had a way of just wanting to forgive and forget. But today she struggled with her stressful feelings and felt physically sick.

Excusing herself, she scooted away from the kitchen table. She trembled as she leaned against the archway to the dining room, unable to speak.

Dad’s voice filled the awkward silence. “Jenna, dear, no other child can possibly change our love for you, if that’s what’s troubling you.”

She felt tiny and weak, wishing he’d stop talking about how much they loved her.

“We’ve been asking God for another child for a long, long time,” he was saying. “We wanted to adopt a Korean baby boy . . . to match our nationality.”

Jenna spun around. “So . . . what you really want is a
son?
”

“Only because we already have a wonderful daughter!” His eyes were gentle, his face solemn. “We hoped you’d be as delighted as we are.”

She voiced what she was thinking. “Just so this kid won’t intrude on my life,” she muttered.

But her mother had heard the cutting remark, and her look was stern. “What a selfish thing to say, Jenna.”

Mom’s right
, she thought.
But I can’t ignore the way I feel
.

“Hey, turtle eyes,” Jamey Something whispered in homeroom.

Jenna looked the other way. She refused to give him the time of day.

“Yo, Swan Song,” sneered Chris Stephens.

Get a life
, she thought. One way to keep from losing her cool was to dream up a put-down in her head. She was the Queen of silent put-downs. And getting better at it every day!

During math period, Chris sat directly behind her. He kept whispering to her when the teacher wasn’t looking. “Olive face,” he taunted.