Holly's Heart Collection Two (13 page)

More than anything I wanted Mom to say this whole moving thing was just talk. Something we would toy with and then discard.

“I’m going to be late for school,” I said, scooting off her bed. Of course, I wasn’t, but if I sat around arguing the benefits of staying in Dressel Hills, Colorado, I would be.

Hurrying to my room, I silently prayed that Friday’s phone call—whatever it was—would cancel out this hideous moving talk.

At school I kept the news quiet. Maybe by not saying anything the move wouldn’t happen. But at suppertime, the reality hit me hard.

Still wearing his dress shirt, Uncle Jack sat at the head of the table. His suit coat and tie hung over the chair behind him. With a hesitant smile, he pushed his apple pie aside and leaned over to open his briefcase. Up he came with a flip chart. Then he reached into his shirt pocket and took out two packs of gum, distributing a stick to each of us.

I groaned silently.
Bribery.
He’d gone to great lengths to make points with us kids. The gum thing was clever, and I could see it already starting to work by the smiles coming from Carrie and Stephie across the table.

Uncle Jack flipped to the first card. “Okay, kids, we need to understand each other.” He pointed to a cartoon picture of two big hearts and six little ones, complete with eyes and smiling faces. The girl hearts had long hair and the boy hearts had mustaches. There were mountains in the background. Our mountains.

Stephie and Carrie giggled, but Mom shushed them playfully. Mark and Phil wagged their heads, holding their hands around their faces, imitating the heart faces. Stan and I sat quietly, acting mature and civilized.

Actually, the drawings weren’t half bad. Uncle Jack had always made special homemade cards for Mom when they were dating. “As you can see, this family is full of love for one another,” he continued, glancing at Mom.

Phil made gagging sounds while Mark said “Yuck” at least five times. Uncle Jack waited, casting a hard eye on his younger sons. They settled down quickly.

Uncle Jack began again. “For the past few days, I’ve been driving to Denver to handle the new business accounts, and it looks as though I might open an office there.” He paused. “The problem is, we have no one to run the Denver office except my partner or me.”

I thought about Uncle Jack’s business partner, Mr. Miller. He and Mr. Miller had been in business together in Pennsylvania before they moved to Dressel Hills. It was the Millers who’d suggested that Uncle Jack come here in the first place. They thought it would do him good, starting over in a new place after his first wife, my dad’s only sister, died of cancer last year. So, from my point of view, it made more sense for Mr. Miller to take the Denver office.

I took a deep breath, scrounging up some courage. “Why can’t Mr. Miller go to Denver?” I asked, suddenly realizing what I’d just said. If he moved, so would Paula and Kayla, his twin daughters and my good friends.

“You’re thinking, Holly, but I’m the one who’s established most of the Denver accounts,” Uncle Jack explained. “So it seems that I’m the logical choice.”

How could he be so unemotional about this? “Well, why can’t you just get someone else?” I shot back.

Uncle Jack glanced at his flip chart. “We’re trying. But there’s only one other man we would entrust with this position. We’ve offered him the job, but we won’t know his answer until Friday.”

My uncle had all the answers, it seemed, but they weren’t good enough for me. I argued, “But you just moved here. Doesn’t that matter?”

Uncle Jack nodded. “Good point, but we never expected our Denver accounts to grow so quickly.” He leaned back in his chair. “Sometimes that’s very difficult to predict.”

I swallowed hard. “Why’d you choose Dressel Hills in the first place?” It was a two-fold question.

“Now, Holly…” Mom had picked up my sarcasm instantly. She was glaring at me, her eyes squinting tightly.

Uncle Jack put his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “At first it didn’t matter where we based our company, since we set up computer systems all over the world.”

I forced the tears back, slouching down in my chair.

Uncle Jack turned to look at Stan. “How do the rest of you feel?” His eyes scanned the table anxiously. All six kids stared at him, silent.

I couldn’t believe it! He sounded like he was ready to pack up and ship out tomorrow. He didn’t really care what we kids wanted. As far as I could tell, Jack Patterson was a much better uncle than he was a stepdad!

Mom glanced at me. A worried smile flitted across her face. I could tell she was concerned about my feelings.

Stan, Phil, and Mark, my brousins—I called them that because they were cousins-turned-brothers—continued to eat pie as though moving away was no big deal.

Ten-year-old Phil reached for a glass of milk. “I’m barely unpacked from moving here from Pennsylvania, so no problem,” he said. “Denver sounds cool.” His face lit up. “Hey, maybe Dad’ll take us to watch the Colorado Rockies play!”

Mark stretched his lips wide with his pointer fingers, wiggling his tongue in and out of his mouth like an anteater. “Are dere juicy ants in Denber?” he blubbered.

“Stop it,” I muttered, staring at my ridiculous nine-year-old brousin. Why couldn’t he behave like a normal human being, especially at a time like this?

Uncle Jack ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. The twinkle was gone from his eyes. “This won’t take long, son,” he said, giving Mark another serious look. Then he turned to the second card on his flip chart while I took another bite of dessert.

The next cartoon showed the big heart with the mustache waving good-bye to the other big heart with shoulder-length hair. The Denver skyline was in the distance. Little tears dripped off the mother heart’s face. Six little hearts wore sad faces, too. Stephie was the smallest heart, followed by Mark, Carrie, Phil, me, and finally Stan, my fifteen-year-old brousin.

“Reason number one for moving,” Uncle Jack began. “Your mother and I want to be together; we don’t like being apart. We’re newlyweds, after all.” He squeezed Mom’s hand.

I waited for Phil to gag and Mark to yuck, but they were busy stuffing their mouths with pie. Instead, eight-year-old Stephie spoke up. “I wanna stay here,” she said. “We can’t ride the city buses in Denver for free like Carrie and I do here.”

Mom nodded, smiling faintly. “Denver’s too big for little girls to do that by themselves, anyway. But that’s a thought.”

I could see Mom was trying to be democratic about this. By now, I didn’t care what anyone was saying or how it was being handled. I just wanted to go to my room. Away from this nightmare of a stepfather.

Carrie, my nine-year-old sister since birth, sided with Stephie. “I don’t want to leave Dressel Hills, either,” she said. “The ski lifts are only five minutes from our house.”

Ever since Mom and Uncle Jack got married, Carrie and Stephie had joined rank—usually against me. This time, though, the three of us were in agreement, but not for the same reasons. Not even close.

There was only one reason I couldn’t begin to say good-bye to Dressel Hills. Only one. This ski town was my life—my entire life.

Fighting back the tears, I pushed my chair away from the table. “Excuse me,” I stammered.

Without looking back, I ran from the room.

GOOD-BYE, DRESSEL HILLS

Chapter 2

Before fourth-period choir on Wednesday, I hurried upstairs to the music room and peeked in the door. Andie Martinez, my best friend, was sitting at the piano, arranging the music for rehearsal. She was the official pianist for choral union—the best of the seventh, eighth-, and ninth-grade singers. Often during rehearsals, I watched Andie’s fingers fly over the keys while her dark eyes studied the music intently. In fact, practices and concerts were the
only
times Andie was serious.

Today she wore denim jeans and a red-and-white shirt that set off her dark skin and dark brown curly hair. She ran her fingers over the keys, hit a wrong note, stopped, and frowned. Just as she began playing again, I opened the door and hurried inside.

Andie glanced up and immediately stopped playing. “Holly!” she said. “Ready for ‘Edelweiss’ today?”

For weeks we had been practicing the choral arrangements for the spring musical,
The Sound of Music.
Tryouts for the lead parts were April 11—only two and a half weeks away. Everyone was talking about who would get Maria, the female lead. But at this moment I had more important things on my mind, like my future and how I’d go on living without my Dressel Hills friends.

“Andie, we have to talk.” I leaned against the console piano.

She looked at me and stood up. In two seconds her eyes changed from curious to concerned. “You look sick, Holly. You okay?” She reached for my arm.

“Oh, Andie, it’s so awful,” I burst out. “I think Uncle Jack’s going to move us to Denver.”

Andie’s eyes grew wide. “What for?”

I explained the situation based on our family meeting last night.

“You can’t move, Holly. I won’t let you.” She sat down hard on the piano bench. And then she was silent, like she was soaking it all in. It was a rare moment when my friend was speechless. But this wasn’t just any news. This news could change our lives forever.

“It’s such rotten timing,” she said at last, hurling a crashing chord to the piano keys. “We
have
to go to high school together!

After all, we’re best friends. What about that?”

“I know, I know,” I whispered.

“How can you move, Holly? I mean, this is your home. You’d hate a big city, stuck in some high-rise apartment building. Who knows, maybe you’d never see the sun again. And a new school and new kids. They might ignore you, or—worse—bully you if you don’t fit in, or—”

“Just stop it!” I sat beside her on the bench. “I thought you’d be a little more sympathetic.”

“I am. I feel sorry for you.” She sighed. “For me—for us both.” Andie frowned at her music. “How long before you know for sure?”

“This Friday.”

“How could your uncle be so cruel?” Andie cried.

I stared at my feet. “He seems so selfish all of a sudden. I mean, he just waltzed into our lives and took over. And now this.”

“I can’t believe it.” She shook her head. “It’s so unfair.”

A few kids were trickling into the room, and I didn’t want to be caught crying, so I turned and headed for the alto section.

Andie played a mournful tune. It wasn’t anything from
The Sound of Music.
Watching her fingers on the keys, I sensed what Andie was feeling. I settled into a chair, worrying about the possible nightmare facing me.

“Holly? Are you, uh…
in
there somewhere?”

I looked up, startled to see my friend Paula Miller waving her hand in my face. Her other arm balanced a pile of music folders. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, standing up to help her distribute them.

“Man, that was some trance, Holly,” Billy Hill said, laughing as I tossed a folder to him. He flung it across the room to Jared Wilkins as he came in.

“Who’s spacing out?” Jared asked, looking around comically, then catching my gaze.

“Holly. She must be dreaming about a new man,” Billy teased Jared, elbowing him as he sat down.

“I seriously doubt that with a guy like me around.” Jared flashed a grin at me.

I blushed, then wondered what would happen to our friendship if I moved to Denver.

“Up here, Holly.” I turned to see Shauna holding her hands up for a folder. She sat in the back row with her best friend, Joy, who waved cheerfully.

Slowly, I moved to the back of the room, standing motionless as I gazed at first one friend, then another.

My eyes locked on Andie warming up at the piano. Her red Converse peeked out from under the hem of her jeans as she pressed the pedal. Our friendship went way back. During grade school, we’d written a set of Loyalty Papers and exchanged favorite teddy bears to seal the pact.

How…
how
could I leave Andie?

Jared hammed it up with Billy, laughing at his own jokes. He was every junior high girl’s dream: gorgeous light brown hair, blue eyes, and a teasing wink that wouldn’t quit. We’d jumped through a few hurdles, including my crazy month-long scrutiny test, to get where we were now. But I was comfortable with Jared—my first true guy friend.

Next to him sat Billy Hill, showing off his new letter jacket. I remembered the crazy antics he pulled at my thirteenth birthday last year. Where would I be without Billy?

Danny Myers wore one of his Sunday dress shirts. Long sleeves, buttoned at the wrist. He liked dressing up all the time. I smiled, recalling our short-lived close friendship—the gondola ride up Copper Mountain last summer and the afternoon at the library deciphering Uncle Jack’s handwriting. Yes, I would miss Danny, too.

And there was Amy-Liz, a curly-haired soprano. Fun-loving and sweet, Amy-Liz was the life of the party. Her friends and mine, Joy and Shauna, whispered as they thumbed through their music folders. Probably looking for one of the best love songs in the musical so far—“Something Good”—assigned last week. What good friends they were.

My gaze rested on Paula. She sat beside her identical twin, Kayla. Paula was obviously attempting to establish her own identity these days. Her hair swirled around her shoulders in layers, while Kayla’s was a mass of relaxed curls.