Give Me a Break (From the Files of Madison Finn, 18) (8 page)

Stephanie poked her head into Madison and Aimee’s room. “Are you girls dressed yet?” she asked.

Stephanie wore a long black flowing skirt and a snug white blouse with a gold-beaded choker. Her hair was piled on top of her head and fixed with gold combs.

Aimee stood up. “You look so pretty,” she told Stephanie.

“Aw, this little old thing?” Stephanie said, affecting modesty. She admired Aimee’s outfit aloud. “I like those pants, Aimee. Is that a butterfly pattern?”

“These are my
favorite
dressy pants,” Aimee said. “Do you think they’re dressy enough?”

Stephanie nodded. “And what about you, Maddie?” she asked.

Madison didn’t respond. She just snapped her laptop shut. Meanwhile, Phin (who had been retrieved earlier from the pet-sitting center) jumped up from his large plaid dog pillow. He let out a howl.

“See? Even Phinnie knows I have nothing to wear,” Madison said.

“Come on, there has to be something in your suitcase,” Stephanie said, rubbing Madison’s shoulder. “Let’s take a look together.”

“I’ve already gone through the suitcase three times. There is nothing that I would want to wear to a fancy restaurant,” Madison said. “I barely scraped together enough clothes to wear on the slopes. Let’s face it. I am seriously fashion-challenged this week.”

“Maddie!” Aimee cried. “Quit freaking out. You have plenty of cute clothes. We went over the list on the phone before we left. I told you that you look good in anything. I don’t know why you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you, Aim,” Madison explained. “It’s just that my clothes don’t.”

Stephanie wrinkled her brow and leaned over Madison’s open suitcase. With Stephanie’s and Aimee’s help, Madison decided upon a short corduroy skirt and a long-sleeved shirt with flower buttons. She pulled on ribbed brown tights to go underneath and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt so that her lucky bunny charm necklace was visible. She couldn’t risk anything blocking her lucky vibes.

The Treetops restaurant was mobbed. During their twenty-two-minute wait for a table, Aimee and Dad wandered off to look at an art exhibit in a small gallery that was situated beside the restaurant. Madison and Stephanie eventually followed.

“Stephanie,” Madison asked cautiously. “I have a serious question. Will you give me a serious answer?”

“Gee, Maddie, it sounds like you have something on your mind,” Stephanie said.

“Do you believe in superstitions?” Madison asked.

“Oh! Well, sure,” Stephanie replied easily. “My mother used to have this one superstition about sneezing. Let’s see. The number of sneezes means something. So it’s one for sorrow; two for joy; three for a letter; four for a boy; five for silver; six for gold; seven for a secret, never to be told.”

“‘Four sneezes for a boy’?” Madison said. “Then next time I sneeze I’m going to do it four times on purpose.”

Stephanie laughed.

“What are you two up to? Do you like the paintings?” Dad asked, circling back toward Madison and Stephanie. He gave Stephanie a kiss.

Madison left her dad and stepmother alone and shuffled over to Aimee, who stood in front of a portrait of a ballerina.

“That looks like you,” Madison said.

“I wish,” Aimee said. “Too bad I’m not a real ballerina.”

“Of course you’re real!” Madison said. “You’re the best ballerina I know.”

“Thanks, Maddie,” Aimee said with a wide grin. The pair locked arms and walked around, giggling, as they surveyed the rest of the pictures in the gallery. It actually took ten extra minutes before their table was ready and they went back into the dining room with Dad and Stephanie.

The fancy dinner was snail free, much to Madison’s relief. There were a few odd items on the menu, like buffalo quesadillas and grouper with pomegranate sauce, but it was mostly food Madison and Aimee liked and were willing to taste. After the main course, Dad ordered a special chocolate soufflé that the four of them shared. Outside the window by their table, it appeared to be snowing again. They sat there and ate dessert, watching the snow fall.

“I love this weather,” Stephanie said. “It’s so… cozy.”

The waiter came by and delivered coffee and cookies, compliments of Treetops. “It’s a real blizzard lockdown tonight,” the waiter said. “Keep an eye out for Mr. White.”

“Who’s he?” Madison asked.

The waiter explained that a long time ago an older man named Mr. White, who was staying at the resort, had gotten lost on the way to his chalet and spent the night outside alone, face down in the snow. The storm had buried him, and he was not found until spring. Supposedly his ghost remained on the property, and whenever it snowed a lot, he came back to haunt places on the property like the main lodge, his old room, and the skating chalet.

“A snow ghost? Get out!” Aimee said. “That is just something you made up to scare us.”

“Hey, I couldn’t make up something that good,” the waiter said as he cleared away a few more of the dishes.

“Where’s Mr. White’s old room?” Madison asked nervously.

“I think it was at Eagle’s Nest,” the waiter replied.

Madison nearly dropped her fork. “That’s
our
cabin!” she cried.

“Gee,” the waiter said. “Maybe I should wrap up an extra slice of the soufflé for the ghost?” He chuckled and winked.

Dad and Stephanie smiled as the waiter dropped the check on the table and walked away, carrying some empty plates.

Aimee started to laugh out loud.

“Wait. What’s so funny? It’s not funny,” Madison said.

“Sure it is. A ghost? Maddie, have you lost it?” Aimee asked. “The waiter is goofing around. He almost had me for a minute…”

“How do you know it isn’t real?” Madison said. “I believe in that stuff.”

“But you believe in chain letters, too,” Aimee said.

“You’re not superstitious, Aimee?” Stephanie asked. She seemed to sense that the conversation was heating up a little bit.

“I’m not really superstitious,” Aimee shrugged. “Not like Maddie. I just don’t see the point,” she said.

Madison absentmindedly touched her rabbit charm.

“Well, I imagine a snowstorm up here means some serious snow,” Dad said, briskly changing the subject.

“Hey, Mr. Finn?” Aimee asked. “Do you remember the time when we were all over at your house in Far Hills, and it snowed for three days, and the plow came down the street and almost buried me and Maddie in a pile of snow?”

“Oh, yes,” Dad said. “I remember.”

“And remember, Mrs. Finn had to call the police?” Aimee went on.

Dad smiled and shook his head. “Yup. Fran would never let me live that one down. ‘How could you let the girls play by the sidewalk?’ she said to me.”

Aimee started to laugh. “Remember that, Maddie? Your mom was standing there on the sidewalk digging us out with her bare hands, and it was so cold, and we were stuck.”

“Fran said that I’d turned you both into snowgirls,” Dad chuckled.

Madison laughed, too.

“Would you three excuse me for a moment?” Stephanie said all of a sudden. She pushed her chair out and turned for the ladies’ room.

“Everything okay, Steph?” Dad called out.

Stephanie turned back and mouthed the words
I’m fine.

“We were talking about Mom a lot, weren’t we?” Madison squirmed in her seat. “Aimee, why did you keep bringing her up?”

“Huh? Me?” Aimee said. “I was just… well… sorry, I didn’t know it was a bad thing to talk about your mom.”

“It isn’t a bad thing,” Dad said. He shot a look at Madison.

“Don’t look at me like that, Dad,” Madison said. “It’s totally weird to talk about Mom in front of Stepmom and you know it.”

“Maddie, Stephanie is fine with it,” Dad said. “She likes your mother.”

“Whatever,” Madison said. She glared at Aimee.

“Maddie, what is wrong? Are you blaming me for Stephanie getting up and leaving?” Aimee said. “Because I think that is totally unfair—”

“And I think that you—” Madison was cut off by Dad’s loud voice.

“Wait a minute. Girls,
girls,”
Dad said sternly.

Madison and Aimee both shrank down into their seats.

The funny thing about having Aimee on a family vacation was that sometimes she fit in too well. Sometimes she was like Madison’s surrogate sister. She ranked way higher than a BFF, anyway. After all, they had been friends since they were born.

Dad lectured Madison and Aimee both about behaving themselves on the trip. Madison felt as though she were in first grade—not seventh—when he talked to her that way, but she tried really hard not to pout.

A few silent moments later, Stephanie returned to the table. Still, no one was saying anything. Stephanie looked around the table with a concerned look on her face.

“Did I miss something?” she asked, taking a big spoonful of soufflé. “Who died?”

“I’m sorry!” Aimee blurted. “It’s all my fault.”

“Your fault for what?” Stephanie said. “What’s going on here, Jeff?”

Madison spoke up instead of Dad. “We never should have mentioned Mom, Stephanie. We’re sorry.”

Stephanie bowed her head and smiled. “Girls,” she said slowly. “You can talk about Madison’s mom. She’s a part of our lives.”

Madison gulped. “I know, but—”

“No buts,” Stephanie said.

Dad patted the edge of the table. “Look, ladies, why don’t we change the subject?” Dad suggested.

No one said anything.

“Aimee, you start,” Dad said. “Change the subject.”

“Oh,” Aimee said, dipping her spoon into her serving of soufflé. “Let’s see… I hope we can ski somewhere tomorrow. I mean, we are on a mountain, and I’d like to go somewhere, right? Hey, Madison, maybe you and the black-parka guy will ski together tomorrow.”

“Aimee!” Madison said angrily. She kicked Aimee under the table, but missed and kicked the table leg instead.

“What was that?” Stephanie said, glancing under the table, which was now shaking a little.

Madison looked around. She was feeling too self-conscious even to lean down and grab her knee. “What was what?”

“Who’s this ‘black-parka guy’?” Dad asked with a grimace.

Before Madison was forced to say anything, Stephanie stood up and suggested that they go for a walk on the grounds behind the restaurant.

The paths were clear of snow, and the moon lit up the grounds. A surprising number of people were going for short strolls after dinner.

Although it was very, very,
very
cold outside, Madison was happy to be there. She needed to cool down after the flare-up with Aimee.

Up in the sky, stars glimmered. Madison wished it were summer instead of winter so she could crash down onto the ground and stare at this light show. But falling to the ground now meant freezing her behind. She did not feel like turning into an ice cube. There was plenty of time for that on the ski slopes tomorrow.

When they returned to Eagle’s Nest, everyone said their hellos to Phin and then headed for their rooms. Madison was distressed to see clothes lying everywhere—leftovers from her fashion emergency earlier in the evening, a disaster from which she’d successfully recovered.

Aimee helped her to pick up and reorganize. After a while, they both got sleepy and got into their pajamas. Although they’d crawled under the covers, Madison pulled out her laptop. She opened a new file and started to type. Aimee fell asleep within a few minutes.

Hoo-hooooooo.

Madison jumped. What was that? After a few moments, she continued typing again.

Hoo-hooooooo.

Madison jumped out of the bed, clasping her computer. “Aimee!” she cried.

“What? What is it?” Aimee asked, jumping out of bed.

Madison didn’t have to answer. The owl answered for her.

Hoo-hooooooo.

“Oh, no! Three times! Bad luck!” Madison shouted.

“Huh? Three what?” Aimee asked, rubbing her eyes. “Maddie, stop obsessing about your stupid superstitions.”

“What do you mean,
stupid
?” Madison asked.

“I mean, can you please stop being so neurotic for five minutes and just go back to sleep?”

Madison caught her breath. This was her best friend. She didn’t want to get mad. But she couldn’t help herself.

“Neurotic? Quit acting like you know everything,” Madison blurted out. She wished she could take it back the moment she had said it, but it was too late.

“What do you mean by that?” Aimee asked. “I don’t know everything. Who said I knew everything?”

“Well, sometimes it seems like you always know everything,” Madison said. “What’s so wrong with my being superstitious?”

“It’s just so… I don’t know… so fake,” Aimee said. “Do you really think crossing your fingers matters?”

Madison’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know. Why do you have to be mean about it? I don’t make fun of all your dance stuff.”

“What about my dance stuff?” Aimee asked defensively.

“It’s all you ever talk about,” Madison said.

“That’s not true,” Aimee said. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not being mean!” Madison said.

“Wait, Maddie, I’m not being mean, either,” Aimee said. “I’m being honest. You’re my BFF, right? Aren’t BFFs supposed to be honest?”

Madison didn’t answer that one.

Aimee didn’t ask the question twice.

Madison swallowed hard. She’d spent a zillion sleepovers with Aimee back in Far Hills and they’d never gotten into a fight.

At least, not like this one.

“Good night, Maddie,” Aimee said, getting into bed again and rolling over onto her pillow.

“Good night,” Madison said. She got back in bed and rolled over, too.

Under the covers again, Madison made a wish that she and Aimee would be back to normal the next day.

But without Aimee’s knowing it, she crossed her fingers
and
her toes, just to be sure.

M
ADISON COULD HEAR EVERYONE
moving around inside the chalet, but she stayed buried under the blankets. She felt something hard up by her head. Ouch! She’d left her laptop on the bed after the fight with Aimee.

Laughter was coming from the next room. Madison could tell it was Aimee and Stephanie. She crawled out of bed and peered through the doorway.