Melanie Martin Goes Dutch (28 page)

Dear Diary,

Matt declared today W.B. Day for Walking Backwards Day. He's been walking around the house backwards for the last two hours. He even walked into my room backwards and said, “Ttam si eman ym.”

“Is that Dutch?” I said.

“It's ‘My name is Matt’ backwards. You can call me Ttam.”

I rolled my eyes and didn't call him anything.

He started dealing cards.

“What are you playing?” I asked.

“Raw,” he said.

“Raw?”

“Raw.”

“War?!”

He nodded.

“By yourself?” I asked.

He nodded again.

“That's pathetic,” I said.

“Do you want to play Rj Eulc?”

“What's Rj Eulc?” I said.

“Clue Jr.,” he said.

I was going to say “You need mental help,” but instead, I decided to make his day and said, “Erus.”

I didn't even add “Tarb eht Ttam.”

Dear Diary,

Matt was still walking backwards after dinner and he banged into Dad's reading lamp and knocked it over. It didn't break but Dad got really mad and said, “How can we learn from this?” (Hee hee.)

By the way, did I ever tell you that thanks to me, four kids in my class now have made-up names for their brothers or sisters? It's true: Will the Pill, Nicky the Picky, Burke the Jerk, and Elaine the Pain. I'm an inspiration!

Inspiringly yours,

Mel

P.S. There's one thing I still have to do before school starts:

Dear Diary,

I
still
haven't given Mrs. Hausner her present.

I am such a chicken!! Bok bok bok.

I was thinking maybe I could just write her a note apologizing for hanging up on her. Or scribble something like “Dear Mrs. Hausner, Get well soon. This is for you. Melanie.”

Deep down, though, I
know
I should go see her in person. I've known her forever and she went through this terrible thing and I've been acting like I don't even know about it.

Gotta run. Cecily is coming for a sleepover.

Dear Diary,

Breakfast was French toast, which Matt calls French toes, which cracked Cecily up. Mom got the maple syrup from the cupboard instead of the refrigerator (where it belongs). Since she had opened it a few days ago, Matt kept asking, “Are you sure nothing fuzzy is
growing on it?” and Mom kept saying, “Enough, Matt! I'm sure.”

Then Mom announced that school starts next week.

The weird thing is that I don't think any of us minds that much. Matt is excited about second grade, and Mom is excited about the assemblies she is giving on van Gogh, and Cecily never minds school (maybe because things are usually pretty quiet at her home).

And me? Just between us, I'm almost looking forward to school starting up again.

I realize that if I were in hiding, I would miss not just marshmallows and M&M's and pretzel goldfish and slice 'n' bake cookie dough and Chinese food. I would miss school. And my friends. And the whole wide world.

Anne did.

We showed Cecily the frame she gave us, which now has a photo of us all in Holland. It's the cheesy picture taken by Hans. I can hardly believe I was practically competing with Cecily over him when obviously best friends matter more than cute tour guides.

Dear Diary,

I did it. I talked to Mrs. Hausner.

Matt and I were playing archeologist with chocolate-chip cookies and toothpicks and paintbrushes. The game is Dig the Dinosaur Eggs out of Their Nests, and the object is to get the chips out whole—without breaking or eating them. I always win because Matt can never resist snacking on his chocolate dino eggs.

Well, I knew I couldn't just keep playing games and being a bok-bok chicken. So I called Cecily—even though she's at her father's. Part of me was hoping to get her answering machine, but I got her mom.

“Hello, Mrs. Hausner, this is Melanie,” I said. Then, instead of saying, “May I please speak to Cecily?” I said, “How are
you?
”

“Fine, thank you,” Mrs. Hausner said, “But Cecily's at her father's. She won't be home until tomorrow.”

“I know. I was calling to talk to you.” Mrs. Hausner probably thought she'd heard wrong because she didn't say a word. “Could I drop something off?” I asked.

“Sure, unless you'd rather give it to Cecily when she gets back.”

“It's not for Cecily—it's for you.” I started thinking that it might be fun to surprise Cecily with a gift someday too. Maybe a little bag of FAO Schwarz M&M's— regular blue, light blue, and dark blue.

Next thing you know, the Dutch shoes were in my pocket, and I asked Mom to walk me over to Mrs. Hausner's. Mom was doing a puzzle of her favorite Vermeer painting:
Girl with a Pearl Earring
. It's in Holland but not in Amsterdam, so we didn't get to see it. It's really really beautiful, and when you look at it, sometimes you see a girl, and other times you see a young woman.

Well, Mom and I walked outside and I told her everything. Everything! About the manners lessons and messy kitchen and even hanging up on Mrs. Hausner. (I said I did it “a couple times,” not
three
times.) Then I asked Mom if she'd ever done anything like that. She said, “Mellie, it's not something I'm proud of, but yes, when I was in grade school, my best friend and I made a few phony phone calls. That was before the days of Caller I.D.!” (Ha! Even Mom was not a perfect kid.)