Holly's Heart Collection Two (4 page)
I spotted her in the parking lot, heading toward her car. “Andie, wait!”
She stopped and turned around. “This better not be about that cat of yours.”
“It’s about my birthday party. Can you come if I change the day?”
Her dark curls blew against her face. “To when?”
“Valentine’s Day, a week from tomorrow.” I realized I was holding my breath, waiting for her response.
“I’ll have to let you know,” she said. Then she hurried to catch up with her family.
I called Paula on Sunday night and then again on Monday after school. I simply had to know how Goofey was. I missed him terribly.
“Oh, hello, Holly,” Paula cooed when she answered the phone.
Carrying the portable phone, I paced nervously around my bedroom. “How’s Goofey eating?”
“Very well, and Kayla thinks he’s beginning to bond with me. I’ve been giving him lots of attention, including a bath every day. He loves the rose-scented bubbles.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’re kidding! He likes bubble baths?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “And I’m making him some little pajamas to wear at night.”
I gasped. “Pajamas?”
“They’re darling. You should come over and see them.”
“Um, sometime.” I switched the phone to my other ear. “But you don’t have to sew him pajamas, Paula. I only wanted you to keep him until I could—”
“Oh no, no!” she exclaimed. “Please don’t take Goofey away.”
Oh, puh-leeze. This is too much!
“I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him,” she insisted.
“Hey, I know the feeling,” I said. “I’ll be right over.”
It was time to put a stop to this bonding Paula Miller had going on with my cat. Rushing downstairs, I swung open the coat closet in the front hall. My pink-and-purple ski jacket was handy, so I flung it on.
“Where are you going?” Carrie said, looking up from her book. She was snuggled up on the sofa in the living room.
“None of your business.”
“We might be gone when you get back. Uncle Jack’s taking us to get fitted for our own skis,” Carrie said.
“He is?”
“Yep, we’re going skiing soon. He wants each of us to have our own equipment.” Carrie slouched against the sofa. “Isn’t it great having a rich uncle in the family?” Then she burst into giggles.
“You’re a nut case,” I said, looking around for Mom and Uncle Jack. “They’ll hear you.”
“It’s no secret. Do you know how much money we have?” She stared at me. “Well,
do
you?”
“What are you talking about?”
Carrie motioned to me with her pointer finger. “How do you think we paid for the addition on the house?”
“Uncle Jack did, of course. Who else?” I sat on the arm of the sofa.
“Last night I heard him telling Mom about the money he got when Aunt Marla died. You won’t believe it,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
“People get insurance money when their spouses die. It’s no big deal.”
“Three quarters of a million dollars is a big deal.” Carrie shoved her finger into her book, marking the page. “How much is that?”
“Figure it out.” I leaped up and dashed out the door.
Whoa, she wasn’t kidding. We are rich, all right!
Carrie’s news cast a spell over everything in my path. Running down the street toward Paula Miller’s house, I felt strange. No wonder Uncle Jack had tripled my allowance. It was nice of him, but really, kids my age didn’t need that much money. I was putting most of it in the church offering. In fact, last Sunday before the service I’d stopped by the church bulletin board in the foyer and studied a display of missionaries and their families. I wanted to support one of them, but I wasn’t sure whom. Then another picture had caught my eye—of a thin, naked child, crying from hunger. I resolved right there to use my allowance to help starving children, too.
Just ahead, the Miller twins’ house came into view. Set on the side of a hill, the house was in one of the lah-dee-dah-est areas of Dressel Hills.
I groaned as I made my way up the steep driveway, praying.
Dear Lord, if Carrie’s right about the money, please don’t let me become like Paula Miller—constantly buying new clothes and living for the next shopping spree. I want to help people with my money, not hoard it to myself.
When I rang the doorbell, it played some long excerpt from Mozart or Beethoven, I wasn’t sure which. Anyway, I was surprised when Paula answered the door. Minus Goofey.
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
“Won’t you please come in?” Paula said, opening the door wide. She showed me into the large foyer, where a wide tapestry of an English garden graced the wall. Fresh roses, yellow as buttercups, brightened a cherrywood table nearby.
“Where’s Goofey?” I asked, gazing overhead at a twinkling glass chandelier.
“Upstairs,” she said.
I sneaked a peek at the living room as we headed for the curved staircase. Lily-white chairs and sofas were dotted with satiny pillows of black and red. A slate-black coffee table held a tall, white vase bulging with more flowers, this time in dramatic shades of red. At the top of the curved staircase, Paula’s massive room awaited.
“Kayla’s resting, so let’s keep our voices low,” Paula suggested.
What century was she born in?
I wondered, amazed at the golden Cinderella-like mirror hanging over her dresser. The bedspread of pastel blues and greens perfectly coordinated with the throw pillows on two powder-blue easy chairs.
“Would you care for a soda?” Paula offered.
I nodded. “Sure, thanks.”
Paula opened a miniature refrigerator near her closet and pulled out a Coke. “I hope it’s cold enough.”
I took the soda and thanked her. A
refrigerator
in her
room
? What else did this girl have—diamonds and pearls in her jewelry box, maybe?
Paula directed me to one of her soft chairs. “Wait here while I get Goofey up from his nap,” she said.
Goofey had been spoiled rotten at my house, but this…! I took a sip of my soda, surveying the picture-perfect view. Getting up, I went to the window and leaned my knee on the padded window seat, in awe of the mountains. Looking down, I caught my breath. What—a window seat? Paula had a window seat just like mine!
I don’t know why her having a window seat bothered me, but it did. For some reason I didn’t want to have a single thing in common with this girl.
“Here we are,” Paula said cheerfully, returning with Goofey in her arms. “Isn’t he simply adorable?” she cooed. Cooing was one of her trademarks. Hers and Kayla’s.
“Simply,” I echoed. “Now, what’s this about bubble baths?”
“Oh, that,” she waved her hand as though it was an ordinary thing for a cat to take bubble baths. “Would you like to witness it for yourself?”
“Now?” It was hard to believe that’s all Paula could dream up for after-school entertainment. What about friends? Didn’t she have anyone besides her twin sister to hang out with?
“Goofey really loves his baths,” she continued. “I’ll draw his water now if you’d like.”
“Actually, I’d rather just play with him if you don’t mind.” I really wanted to take him back home where he belonged. But Mom would never hear of it. If only I could talk some sense into Andie. Or Jared.
Paula put Goofey down. He stood close to her for a moment, then wandered over to nuzzle my leg. Stooping down, I picked him up. He smelled like roses. Probably the bubble bath variety.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered. Purring contentedly, Goofey rubbed his head against my chin.
“If it would make you feel any better,” Paula said, “I’d be delighted to purchase him from you.”
“Buy my Goofey?” I was still shocked that the facts hadn’t sunk into her brain. “Goofey’s not for sale. He’s only here for a few days, like we agreed.”
“I really wish—”
“Well, I have to be going,” I interrupted. “I’ve got important stuff to take care of.”
“You can’t stay?” She sounded disappointed.
“Sorry,” I said. Then I gave Goofey a kiss on his pink nose and left the room. “He’s yours till Wednesday.”
“Wednesday?” she asked. “What happens then?”
“I’ll find a permanent home by then,” I said.
Paula followed me down the long staircase. “Thank you, Holly, for allowing me this time with your darling cat.”
This girl is about as flaky as a Barbie doll
, I thought as she opened the front door.
“Remember, Holly, you’re welcome to visit Goofey any time,” she said as I stepped out into the cold.
I turned to face her and noticed with a shock that her eyes looked misty, like she was about to cry. “Thanks,” I said uncomfortably, eager to get away before she started bawling on my shoulder. “I’ll come get Goofey in two days.”
“Rest assured, I’ll take good care of him for you,” she said as I headed down the flagstone steps toward the tree-lined street.
A twinge of guilt haunted me on my walk home. It was rude the way I’d treated Paula. I’d called her rotten things like
pathetic
and
pitiful
behind her back. But her only real problem was she was different.
Very
different.
When I finally arrived home, the gray van was gone, which meant only one thing: Carrie was right about Uncle Jack spending big bucks on the family. I loved to ski, but somehow I couldn’t picture Mom on the slopes. Guess Uncle Jack was opening new horizons for her.
Instead of going into the house, I hopped on the city bus. With any luck I’d link up with my family at the sporting goods store.
On the bus I spotted Mrs. Martinez seated near the front.
“Hello there, Holly!” she called.
I hurried to take a seat beside her. “Andie told me about the guest you have coming next weekend.”
She smiled. “We’re excited about having Christiana in our home. From her letters, she seems like a lovely young lady.”
And I’m not?
The resentful thought jagged across my mind. I forced it out of my head. “Sounds like fun,” I lied.
“Andie has been wanting to do something like this for quite some time now.”
Funny, she hadn’t told
me
about it.
“She hopes to learn from Christiana while she’s here, and if things work out, Andie may spend some time in Austria next year.”
So Mom guessed right. Why was I not surprised?
“Well, tell Andie hi for me.” I stood up when I saw the doughnut shop next to the sporting goods store. “Here’s where I get off.”
“Nice seeing you, Holly,” she said.
“You too, Mrs. Martinez.” I hurried off the bus and headed into the sporting goods store. Sure enough, my family was there. All of them.
Carrie and Stephie were modeling matching ski outfits, completely ignoring the price tags. Mom was trying on ski boots, and the boys were off in another corner of the store, checking out the most expensive skis.
This bothered me. A lot. There were tons of starving children in the world, and here we were spending zillions on ski gear.
“Holly, I’m glad you found us,” Mom said, looking up as she buckled the shiny ski boots. “What do you think?” She held her foot up.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going to hit the slopes.” I was laughing. But not at the pricey boots she wore.
Uncle Jack sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her. “She’ll have plenty of time now for sports and leisure activities,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Mom’s quitting work, right?” I said gleefully. All this money in the family had its advantages, after all.
“Yep, and she’s going to join a health club to get back in shape,” Carrie announced.
“She’s not that much out of shape,” I defended Mom.
“Thanks, Holly-Heart,” Mom said, touching my hand.
Uncle Jack led me to the shelf displaying boots my size. I picked up the cheapest pair.
“Those might make it down the hill twice.” Uncle Jack chuckled. He picked up another pair. “Now, here’s something that’ll last a good long time.”
Eyeing the price tag, I said, “But they cost so much!”
Uncle Jack sat me down near Mom and helped me slip on the boots. “It’s better to pay a few more dollars and have them last for several seasons,” he explained. “Besides, your feet have stopped growing. Who knows how long you’ll be stuck wearing these.”
I could see his point. Still, I couldn’t get that picture of the starving child out of my mind.
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
Wednesday in science class, Andie was so engrossed in taking notes she scarcely noticed me. After class, she stayed to talk to Mr. Ross, our teacher. A major switcheroo.
I waited as long as I could at her locker. Finally giving up, I headed off for English. Miss Wannamaker looked thinner, like she was losing weight. I was curious about that. Was she trying to impress Mr. Ross?
Jared slid into the desk across the aisle. “Hey, Holly-Heart. Got your homework done?” He flashed that wonderful warm smile.
“It’s right here.” I patted my school bag.
“I hear we’re having a visitor from Austria.”
“Yep. That’s all Andie’s talking about.” I searched for my English book in my bag. Miss W was getting ready to begin class. “See you at lunch, okay?”
“Perfect,” he said, using my word. When he winked at me, my heart did its usual wild flip-flop.
