Remembering Mrs. Rossi (9780763670900) (7 page)

Annie’s teacher is giving her a special pen!

“Just bring it back to school tomorrow.” Miss Meadows stands up and brushes off her skirt. “Now
I
have to go to school,” she says.

“You do?”

Miss Meadows points to Sherman Hall. “Right up there in room 303, that’s where I’m taking one of those ‘how to be a better teacher’ classes. I’m always here at the university on Tuesdays,” she says with a friendly shrug. “Always trying to be a better third-grade teacher.”

Annie wants to say,
But you’re the best third-grade teacher already!
She doesn’t, though. After all, she is still a teeny bit mad at Miss Meadows.

An hour past Annie’s official bedtime, she is still sitting up in her bed, still a bit jumpy for sleep. Besides, it’s important to go over everything one more time.

“Okay, Daddy. What was the best part of your birthday?” she asks. (She has already asked the same question. Several times.) “Your favorite part.”

“There were quite a few favorite parts, Annie. There’s your story, of course — which I have every intention of reading to my Senior Writing Seminar kids next Tuesday. Nobody ever wrote a story just for
me
before,” he adds in a serious tone of voice.

“Let’s talk about how
funny
my story is.”

“Oh yes. It’s quite amusing, Annie. Love that title! But beyond that, your story has
heart
and, as you well know, my very favorite stories are the ones with
heart.
”

“And do you like how I put Mommy’s picture on the cover?” (They have already talked about the cover. Several times.)

“Yes. It’s the most wonderful picture of Mommy.” Professor Rossi does not seem to tire of saying this. “To think, she once had a dog named Miss Phoebe! And to think,
you
were the one who figured it out!
Excellent
spy work, Annie.”

“Are you sorry we didn’t have a real birthday cake, the usual kind?” Annie worries. “Did it make you sad?”

“
Sad?
Baloney!” He laughs. “Why, that was the best cupcake I ever ate, ever! Scrumptious!”

“I don’t know
how
to bake a real birthday cake,” Annie says. And then, “Nothing’s the same without Mommy.”

“I miss her, too.”

“Daddy. I forgot . . . I forgot to tell her.” Annie feels a lump rising in her throat. “At the hospital that night . . . I forgot to say,
I love you. . . .
Now Mommy doesn’t know!” Annie swallows and swallows, but the tears squirt out.

Professor Rossi picks up Annie’s hand. He counts the fingers on her hand and slowly folds down each finger. “Oh, you said it, all right.” He nods with conviction. “Not only that night, Annie, but as I recall — and I certainly
do
recall — you and Mommy were always saying, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’”

“Really?” Annie whispers. “Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Daddy”— more worries —“what if I stop remembering Mommy?”

“We’ll always remember Mommy,” he says. “We always will, and
there
is another promise. Now sleep, Annie. Tomorrow’s school. Unless, of course, you’re still planning to quit school.”

Annie yawns. “Maybe I’ll go. Miss Meadows needs me,” she explains. “She needs me to read to the class.”

“Okay, then, I will see you in the morning.” Professor Rossi bends down and kisses Annie on the top of her head, and then on both cheeks.

“Daddy?” Two more yawns.

“Yes, Annie?”

“You have to have
one
best thing about your birthday,” she says. “One
favorite
thing.”

“YOU.” Professor Rossi turns off the light. “YOU are the best thing, definitely.”

Annie sinks into her fluffy pillow. “Happy birthday,” she says. “Good night!”

The window is open a crack, and the moon is right where it should be. There! In front of Annie’s window! A big yellow half-moon, and she goes to sleep in the light of the half-moon.

A
nnie Rossi is trying to do a perfect handstand on the beach.
Feet up! Stay up! Feet up!
It is her fourth try this morning, her tenth try this week — her
hundredth
try this summer! “Maybe you’re just not a handstand kind of girl,” her father had said (several times), and perhaps he meant to be helpful. But his words had deeply offended Annie. Why
can’t
she be a handstand kind of girl? Her friend Helen is quite accomplished in this regard. Helen lives next door every summer on Pineapple Street, and this summer she is
ten.
Whenever
she
does a handstand, her feet stay right where they should, high in the air, and she never flops over like Annie, who is still only 8¾. (Helen is also quite good at floating on waves.
And
backbends.) Annie knows she should be pleased to have a friend who is so accomplished, but deep down it annoys her.

Feet up! Stay up! Feet up . . . Yes, she’s doing it! Then
thunk.
She flops into the sand.
At this moment, however,
nothing
can spoil Annie’s good mood — not even a
thousand
bad handstands in a row! After all, the sun is out. The sea is calm. Her bathing suit is pretty. And best of all, she has just met the brand-new baby on Pineapple Street. (The brand-new baby happens to be Helen’s brother — which, Annie supposes, is just
another
accomplishment for Helen.) His name is James, and now that Annie has seen him with her very own eyes, all she can
think
about is James! All she wants to
talk
about is James!

“Did you see his little feet, Daddy, did you?” Annie drops to the sand beside her father.

“Mm-hmm.” Professor Rossi is scribbling away in his brown notebook. (He’s been doing that a lot on the beach this summer.)

“And how about those toes!” Annie exclaims, sprinkling sand on her father’s long toes. “I’ve never seen such tiny toes before.”

Professor Rossi looks up. “I seem to remember inspecting
your
toes, Annie, the day you were born.”

“You did not!” Annie giggles.

“Ten fine toes.” Professor Rossi chooses his words, pretending to be ever so serious. “I found them
very
interesting,” he says, waving his pencil in the air.

“What about Mommy? Did she inspect, too?”

“Mommy?” Professor Rossi’s eyes are wide. “Why, Mommy was the inspector
general,
” he declares. “She was the boss of counting, Annie, and we counted
everything
that day — toes, fingers, ears . . .”

“And Mommy knew I was perfect. And she carried me all the way home . . . in my yellow baby blanket.”

“Oh yes, Mommy knew a perfect baby when she saw one.” Professor Rossi smiles briefly. Then he goes back to his notebook, back to being boring.

A nice new baby to play with, right next door! What could be better than that!
Well, a brother of my own
— the thought suddenly occurs to Annie —
that would definitely be better.
And the more she thinks about it, the more she wishes James could be
her
baby brother, not Helen’s. It makes her mad somehow. Some people have all the luck — people like Helen.

Annie has been told many times, of course, and in many different ways, not to be jealous of someone else’s good fortune. But it seems to her certain people (such as Helen Cooper) have
tons
of good fortune, while certain other people (such as Annie Rossi) do not. Helen Cooper is allowed to walk to town without a grownup! (Annie Rossi is not.) Helen Cooper is allowed to swim out to the second buoy! (Annie Rossi is not.) Helen Cooper has a subscription to
Movie Star
magazine! (Annie Rossi does not.) And now
this,
a baby brother. It just isn’t fair. Annie lets out a very long sigh so that anyone nearby (such as her father) knows it isn’t fair. But he is scribbling away and crossing out and scribbling and crossing out. Her sigh goes unnoticed.

“Well, good
bye,
” announces Annie, brushing sand off her legs.

“Goodbye?”

“Yes.” She stands abruptly. “I have
work
to do.”

“No kidding! You’re actually going to make your bed today?”

“
No,
Daddy. I’m talking about
important
work, because the Coopers need my help with the baby.”

“Ah.” Her father looks up from
his
important work and nods. “They certainly did look a bit
frazzled
over there. Newborns have a tendency to wreak havoc, as I recall, in an otherwise normal household.”

“Havoc, havoc, havoc!” Annie laughs as she races up the beach. She can’t wait to get another look at that baby.

The Coopers have a porch and a door that creaks, just like the Rossis. Unlike the Rossis, they have a dog — Al. As a rule, Al spends his days running up and down the beach, in and out of the ocean. He barks often and happily. (He especially seems to enjoy barking at Professor Rossi.) At this moment though, standing next to Annie on the porch, Al is absolutely quiet. His nose is pressed against the screen door, and no part of him moves, not even his tail. Annie kneels down and puts her arms around Al, and together they look in the house. It is very dark inside.

“Hello?” Annie calls. “Anybody home?”

“Hi.” Helen appears on the other side of the door.

Al scrambles to his feet. He begins to scratch at the door and whimper.

“I’ve just been holding James,” Helen whispers. “He likes when I hold him.”

“Can I hold James?” Annie whispers back, through the screen.

“Only family members get to hold him today. He’s a newborn,” Helen explains in a voice that makes her sound unmistakably wise.

“How about tomorrow?” Annie offers. “I could come over in the morning to hold him if you want. I could be here at seven.”

Scratch, scratch, whimper
(this, from Al).

“Cut it out, Al.” Helen flicks two fingers on the screen. “There’s a
baby
in here.”

“I guess he wants to play with James.” Annie smiles so Helen remembers they are
good
summer friends —
best
summer friends! “Can we come in?”

“Not now. James is sleeping,” Helen explains in her new wise way.