Mary Anne in the Middle by Ann M. Martin

I hugged her back. “You’re welcome.”

  I only wished I could get the same result from Jessi now.

  That Saturday morning, Kristy, Abby, Jessi, Mallory, Claudia, and Stacey arrived at Stoneybrook Manor at ten o’clock to set up. (I had promised Sharon I’d help her with some Christmas shopping, so I was going to be a little late.) Each of my friends carried cardboard boxes filled with the decorations we’d made.

  Mrs. Fellows showed everyone — including Watson, who had driven Kristy and Abby to the manor, and who was lugging the brand-new artificial Christmas tree he was donating — into the big, open multipurpose room.

  There, Watson began laying out the pieces of the tree while the rest of us pulled down the faded, broken decorations that were already in place.

  “These are pretty dreadful,” Mrs. Fellows admitted as Claudia lifted several chipped Christmas balls from a shelf.

  “You don’t want to save these, do you?” Kristy asked. She was carrying a big black plastic garbage bag.

  “I suppose not,” Mrs. Fellows said. “Most of this stuff is nearly thirty years old. It should all go.”

  “Yesss!” Kristy cheered. “Somebody dump that old tree!” she requested. A pathetic tree tilted to one side. It was faded to a grayish-green. Its branches drooped.

  Kristy felt sorry for it, but it was time someone put it out of its misery. Watson helped Claudia haul it outside to a Dumpster.

  Abby stood on a chair and hung up her gold-and-blue Hanukkah banner. Jessi placed her clay kinaras on the shelf that had held the old Christmas balls. With them were other little clay items — fruit, snowmen, reindeer, and wreaths — that the Barrett and DeWitt kids had made that day.

  Along the tops of the windows, Mallory and Stacey draped the paper chains the Pike kids had made. They used masking tape to keep the chains in place.

  When the tree was standing, it looked so full and green no one would ever guess it wasn’t real. Claudia helped Watson string the tree lights.

  Stacey then opened a box of gold-foil suns she’d made with the Rodowsky boys. They’d made them to celebrate the winter solstice, the time near Christmas — December 21, to be exact — when the days no longer grow shorter but begin to slowly increase in length. She set the shining suns on the windowsills around the room.

  Just before noon, the Barretts and DeWitts arrived. Mrs. DeWitt was carrying a large tray of red-and-green bakery cupcakes.

  Mrs. Hobart came in right behind her, holding one of her famous homemade cakes. This one was decorated with a green icing wreath around the upper edge. She set it down on a long folding table beside Mrs. DeWitt’s cupcakes.

  Ben joined Mallory. “Don’t get the idea that you’re baby-sitting for me,” he said. “I just thought I’d stay and help out with the party.”

  Mallory smiled at him. “I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now.”

  “You have? Good. I hear there’s a lot going on.”

  “That’s the truth,” she agreed.

  “Jessi, I’m assigning you to be in charge of Ryan and Marnie, okay?” Kristy said.

  “Okay.”

  “Mallory, you take charge of Madeleine and Johnny,” Kristy went on.

  “I’ll take the two-year-olds over by the tree. They can hang some ornaments,” Jessi said. “Maybe Mallory and Ben can keep the four-year-olds over there by the food table.”

  “How are we supposed to keep them from eating before the party starts if they’re at the food table?” Mallory snapped at her. “I’ll take them wherever I like.”

  Jessi opened her mouth to say something but noticed Ben and thought better of it. Without another word, she guided the two-year-olds over to the tree.

  “I need all my singers,” Abby announced. She and Stacey had been rehearsing songs with some of the kids. The older Hobarts, Barretts, and DeWitts were among the singers.

  As it drew closer to one o’clock, when our party was scheduled to start, more families arrived. Everyone brought food and drinks.

  Mr. and Mrs. Rodowsky arrived with Jackie, Archie, and Shea. Mrs. R. brought a tray of lasagna with her. Jackie and Shea joined the chorus while Archie became part of Mal’s four-year-old corner. Mrs. Fellows took Mrs. R. to the kitchen to heat up her food.

  The next to arrive was Dr. Johanssen, with Charlotte. Then came Jessi’s aunt Cecelia, with Becca. Kristy’s mom arrived with Karen, Andrew, David Michael, and Emily Michelle. Emily joined Jessi and the other two-year-olds, and Kristy’s mom stayed nearby to help her out. Mr. Pike arrived next, with the rest of the Pike kids.

  I made an entrance after the Pikes, and Kristy told me what was going on.

  The kids were all happy to see one another, and the food table looked great. But best of all were our new ornaments. They were awesome. The residents wouldn’t recognize the place.

  At one o’clock, Mrs. Fellows opened the multipurpose room door and the residents began to walk — and roll — in. “Happy holidays!” my friends and I cried.

  “Look at this place!” exclaimed a woman who works there. “What happened to it? It’s gorgeous!” There was a murmur of agreement from the residents.

  Mr. Connor, Uncle Joe’s roommate, glanced around and noticed the BSC members. “The holiday elves were here,” he said.

  Mallory ran to greet her uncle Joe. He appeared to be as happy and amazed as the other residents. Sometimes crowds disturb him, but it must have been one of his better days.

  Directed by Mrs. Fellows, the residents found seats or sat in their wheelchairs while the kids sang. They started with Christmas carols. Everyone laughed when Jackie Rowdowsky branched off at top volume into his own version of “Jingle Bells” — the one in which Batman smells and Robin lays an egg.

  Everyone said “ahh” when the four-year-olds sang the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun,” in honor of the winter solstice. The dreidel song was also a big hit. When Mathew Hobart dropped to one knee for a final “Hey!” he brought down the house.

  When the program was finished, Abby and Stacey led the kids off to sing for the residents who were unable to get out of bed.

  Claudia plugged in her boom box and played all kinds of holiday tapes. We fixed plates of food and served them to the residents. Kristy helped Mrs. Fellows put some plates together for the bedridden residents.

  One man smiled at Kristy as she handed him a plate of lasagna and salad and said, “You know, dear, sometimes I feel forgotten here. This makes up for all those times. It’s wonderful!”

  “I’m glad, Mr. Schwartz,” Kristy replied.

  “You know my name?”

  “Yes, I remember you from the last time we were here.”

  He set the plate on his lap and clasped her hand. There was a wetness in his eyes as if he were so touched he was going to cry. He held her hand a moment longer, then let go and picked up his plate.

  Kristy, pleased, set out to fix someone else a plate when she noticed Mallory talking to Ben in a corner. The conversation seemed to be going well. Then she noticed Jessi holding Emily Michelle and watching them too. This time, Jessi didn’t look angry. Kristy thought she just looked awfully, awfully sad.

  I rolled over in bed and looked at my clock. Eight forty-five. With a smile, I burrowed deeper under my quilt, happy that I had nothing planned for that Sunday. I was really tired.

  When the Stoneybrook Manor party finally wound down, it was dinnertime. No one needed to go out to eat because there was a ton of food there. Some of the older, more frail people left earlier, but the others stayed on, having fun. After the party ended, we cleaned up, which took another hour.

  I’d almost fallen asleep again when I heard my dad’s voice calling to me. “Mary Anne, phone for you!”

  Sleepily, I stumbled out of bed. Who was calling me so early? On the stairs, Dad handed me the cordless phone. “Hello?” I muttered.

  “Oh, did I wake you?” It was Jessi. “I just had to talk to you about Mallory. Did you see her with Ben yesterday? Do you know that’s the fi
rst time she’s spoken to him about any of this? What was she waiting for? Even though I was glad she was talking to him, it made me so mad that she was all buddy-buddy with him, as if he’d been the one who was her best friend all this time instead of me. You know what I think? I —”

  I heard the call-waiting sound. “Hold on a sec,” I said sleepily. I clicked over to the other call. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s me, Mallory. You were up, weren’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “What did you think of the way Jessi told me to go take the kids over to the food table yesterday? Who does she think she is? What really got me …”

  I tuned her out. I had to. My head felt ready to explode. I couldn’t take another second of this.

  “Mallory,” I said, cutting off her tirade. “Come over to my house. Right now.”

  Silence. Then, “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to. Just come over.”

  “Um, okay,” Mal agreed and hung up.

  I clicked back to Jessi. “Jessi, come to my house. Right away.”

  “Right away?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  I returned to my room to dress. To tell the truth, I barely recognized my own behavior. I never boss people around. But Mal and Jessi had pushed me to it. If I had to listen to one more minute of their complaining about each other I’d go nuts. Besides, time was running out. I had to get them back together before Mallory left.

  Downstairs, I grabbed a roll and a glass of orange juice. “Are you going somewhere?” asked Sharon.

  “Not exactly. I’m staying home and being the ref for the fight of the century.”

  “Well, good luck,” she said with a bewildered laugh.

  From my front window, I saw Mallory hurry up the walk and then abruptly turn around. I threw open the front door and saw the reason she’d turned. Jessi was already standing on the front step. “I’m leaving too,” Jessi said.

  I grabbed Jessi’s wrist. “Mallory!” I called. “Come on.” Again, my voice must have shocked her into obeying, because she turned back and joined us.

  Once inside, I told them both to sit down. They tried to find places as far apart as possible, but I insisted they at least sit on opposite ends of the couch.

  Mallory began to object. “There’s no way I’m going to talk to —”

  I held up my hand to shush her. “It’s not your turn to talk yet.” I turned to Jessi. “Don’t look at Mallory,” I said. “Tell me why you’re so upset.”

  “Because Mallory is going away! I’m her best friend and she hasn’t asked me how I feel about this. She didn’t ask me if I’d mind if she changed schools. She didn’t even —”

  “It wasn’t your decision!” Mallory protested. “Besides, I already knew how you felt. You were against it from the start.”

  “And you didn’t care what I thought. You talked to Mary Anne but not to me.”

  “Don’t you understand? You were the one person I couldn’t talk to.”

  “That’s crazy!” Jessi shot back. “You could always talk to me. What was different about this?”

  “Because the idea of leaving you behind was just as terrible to me as the idea of my leaving is to you!”

  Jessi blinked hard. I drew in a long, slow breath. Was this the moment of truth? Had Mallory finally said something that made sense to Jessi?

  “Then why are you doing this?” Jessi asked in a small, sad voice.

  Mallory’s voice was equally subdued. “Because I have to.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do.” Mallory pressed her hands together over her heart as she spoke. “Inside, I feel as if this is what I’ve been waiting for all my life. This is a chance to be myself, not just one of eight Pike kids. Not just one of seven baby-sitters. Not to be Spaz Girl. Not to be anything but myself. I’m not entirely sure who that is, but I feel I’ll find out at Riverbend.”

  Tears sprang to Jessi’s eyes. “Well, why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

  “I was trying to!” Mallory replied, now crying herself.

  They moved together on the couch and hugged.

  I don’t have to tell you who else was crying. Me, the champion crier of all time.

  I backed out of the living room into the kitchen. Sharon smiled softly when she saw me and handed me a napkin. It no longer upsets her to see me cry. She’s used to it.

  “How’s the fight of the century going?” she asked.

  “Wonderfully,” I sobbed into the napkin. I sat in a kitchen chair and had myself a delicious cry. I felt as if I were crying out all the tension and unhappiness of the last weeks, the strain of being in the middle, and my concern for two people I really care for.

  When my tears subsided, I peeked into the living room. Mallory and Jessi were still sitting on the couch, talking softly to each other.

  Ducking back into the kitchen, I phoned Kristy. “You won’t believe this,” I said, “but Jessi and Mallory are talking again.”

  “Excellent. Then we’re all set for We Love Mallory Day tomorrow. I’ll call everybody else.”

  We’d been working on this special day in secret for a while. But we kept hoping we’d have Jessi’s help with it. It would have been sad if we hadn’t. Now we could go ahead.

  “Okay,” I said as I hung up. I didn’t leave the kitchen right away, though. All I could do at that moment was sit in a chair and smile.

  “Mallory Pike — this is your life,” I sang out.

  You should have seen the look on Mallory’s face. There she was in bed, sleeping — enjoying her vacation — when suddenly she was awakened by the sight of me, acting like a lunatic.

  “Excuse me?” Mallory said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Giggles came from the hallway behind me.

  “I should say, this is going to be the best day of your life,” I explained. “And it starts with breakfast!” I turned toward the door and gestured dramatically. Vanessa and Margo entered, carrying a tray holding toast, eggs, and juice. Nicky followed, carefully carrying a cup of hot chocolate. The triplets came in last, singing, “We love you, Mallory, oh yes we do,” and some other lyrics they’d made up.

  “Wow!” Mallory said, smiling. “What is all this?”

  Mrs. Pike stepped into the room with a scroll in her hands. She read from it: “ ‘This being the official We Love Mallory Day, I hereby declare that the festivities that prove Mallory is dearly beloved and special to us shall begin.’ ”

  “What?” Mallory cried in delighted disbelief. Kristy popped into the room then, along with Abby, Stacey, and Claudia. She held a bunch of red Mylar helium balloons with the words We Love Mallory printed on them.

  “That’s right,” Kristy announced. “Eat your breakfast, because you’ll need energy for this action-packed day of Mallory festivities.”

  Mallory laughed. “I can’t believe you guys.”

  “Believe it,” Claudia told her. “This is your day.”

  Our first stop after Mallory had eaten and gotten dressed was a visit to the home of Stoneybrook’s own famous author, Henrietta Hayes. Mallory knew her better than any of us since she’d worked for her briefly. “Why are we going here?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kristy said, obviously fibbing. “Ms. Hayes said she had to see you. It was urgent.”

  In fact, Kristy had called Ms. Hayes a few days earlier when this idea first occurred to her. As usual, when Kristy has a brainstorm she moves fast and effectively. She mobilized the BSC to shop, phone, arrange, and coordinate everything in three days. And once I told her Jessi would be helping us she’d started everything moving overnight.

  When we arrived at Ms. Hayes’s home, she greeted us warmly. “Come in, girls, come in. Oh, there’s Mallory.”

  “Hi, Ms. Hayes,” Mallory said. “You needed to see me?”

  “I did indeed.” Mrs. Hayes pushed her heavy glasses up on her nose. “I have something for you.”

  She beckoned us to follow her into her office where she opened a drawer and p
ulled out a plaque. “The Henrietta Hayes Award for Aspiring Young Authors,” she said, bestowing it on Mallory. “You’re the very first winner, but I think I’ll do this every year.”

  Mallory’s face glowed as she read her name on the plaque. “Thank you so much.”

  Ms. Hayes hugged her. “I know you’ll write great things, Mallory,” she said. “You have the passion it takes. And you have the eyes and ears.”

  “Eyes and ears?”

  “Yes. You have a writer’s love of observation. You see and hear what’s going on around you,” she explained. She gripped Mallory’s shoulders firmly. “Don’t expect your life to be easy,” she advised. “Your life as an artist won’t be easy, because you will feel everything deeply. But it will be rewarding, incredibly rewarding, and I don’t mean only in matters of money.”

  Mallory was captivated by Ms. Hayes’s words — also, completely delighted. Ms. Hayes then served us tea, which was something she and Mallory had enjoyed when Mallory worked for her. “Good luck, Mallory, dear,” Ms. Hayes said as we left her house.

  Out on Burnt Hill Road once again, Mallory took hold of my sleeve. “Where’s Jessi?” she asked quietly.

  “She had a special dance class in Stamford today. She couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh,” Mallory said, deflated.

  We returned to Mallory’s house and climbed into the Pikes’ two cars. Mr. and Mrs. Pike drove us to Kristy’s house. When we entered, Kristy led us into the den, where the first thing we saw was a checked picnic blanket spread out on the floor. “Welcome to a picnic in December,” Kristy explained.

  Out came a bunch of kids we sit for, including Kristy’s younger brother, David Michael, her stepsibs, Karen and Andrew, Shea and Jackie Rodowsky, Charlotte Johanssen, Becca Ramsey, and Sara and Norman Hill. They acted out a skit Claudia and Stacey had put together called “Mallory Pike — The Wonder Years,” about the high points in Mal’s life, such as when she won her writing award. They finished with the part in which Mallory was to leave for Riverbend.

  Charlotte stepped forward. “And then the sound of weeping could be heard throughout Stoneybrook,” she said with a dramatic wave of her arm.