Fashion Frenzy (19 page)

Maeve glanced around the table. No one spoke; no one even breathed. They were all hanging on the words of the girl who wrote this letter so long ago. “
I did have a bit of luck, though, on the voyage over. I met a young man who also came from Ireland to make his fortune in New York. His name is John Taylor, and he’s already asked me to marry him
.

Of course, John is not able to support a wife yet. He earns only seven dollars a week working on the construction site downtown,
but it’s steady work, so far. He’s a good worker and willing to do whatever they ask, so they may keep him on for awhile. But work is hard to find and keep these days—there’s a depression on, everyone always reminds me—and it may be years before John and I can get married. It will be much longer, I know, before we can afford a flat for ourselves. We may live in one room, but it will be under our own steam, and I’m fine with that.

The air in New York always smells sooty, nothing like the crisp, clean air of Cork. I miss that, and I miss you and my brothers, Mother. Please tell them not to worry—even though I’d like to marry John, I won’t until I’ve earned enough to pay their passage over, as I promised before I left. I’ll keep that promise.

I hope someday to see you again, Mother. Please write to me. And I’ll write to you as often as I can afford the stamps. Your loving daughter, Maeve.”

It was very quiet at the table when Maeve finished reading. Her eyes were swimming with tears. She felt as though she could hear the voice of her great-grandmother, that young, hopeful Irish girl.
How brave she was!
Maeve thought.
And how amazing, to come here and work with no expectations except to pay for her brothers to join her!

Katani was moved also. “She was remarkable,” she said at last. “Imagine! Living like that in a sixth floor walkup with cold water…”

Mr. Taylor nodded. “Strangely enough, the very area she lived in later became a pretty fancy address right in Greenwich Village. If I’m not mistaken, Katani, it’s only a few blocks from where your cousin Michelle lives now.”

Katani began to smile. “I’ll bet Maeve Reilly would have thought that was pretty funny.”

Mr. Taylor smiled too. “She had a wonderful sense of humor, though it’s not apparent in that letter. I heard stories about her youth when I was a boy. I always thought my nana was spunky and brave and wonderful. And Maeve is turning out to be just like her.”

Katani looked at Maeve across the table. “She is, Mr. Taylor!” she declared with conviction. “She really is!”

The Perfect Gifts

It was two o’clock when they took the ferry back from Ellis Island. Everyone was quieter than usual, thinking of the girl who had written that letter of hope so long ago. Maeve, who put the letter in her jacket pocket so she could feel it close to her, touched her pocket every so often, just to remind herself of the girl who had come before her.

Mr. Taylor suggested they do some shopping for souvenirs. Katani eagerly said yes; she was anxious to find something perfect for Kelley, as well as her other sisters and the rest of the BSG.

Together they browsed the vendors lining the streets, just as—Katani and Maeve imagined—the early immigrants had combed the streets, craving what the vendors offered yet unable to pay for it.

Sam, whose imagination was limited to famous military battles, had stopped thinking about Maeve Reilly. He was busy looking for a general’s hat he could take home.

Mr. Taylor was looking for old movie posters he could frame as artwork and put in the lobby of his theater. Since the theater had been saved by the seventh-grade talent show, he was constantly thinking about new ways to educate his
customers. Making them aware of great old movies, he thought, was the perfect way to educate.

Maeve and Katani looked through intriguing piles of hats, belts, sunglasses, hair ribbons, and funky watches for souvenirs. “This is perfect for Kelley!” Maeve declared, pulling out a coffee table-sized book about the history of horses in New York.

“This too!” Katani said, holding up a miniature horse and carriage like those driven around Central Park.

“She’ll love it!” Maeve laughed, picturing Kelley’s face when Katani gave it to her.

Twenty minutes later, the girls had chosen a pair of gorgeous combs, decorated with sequins and sparkling green jewels for Isabel’s hair; a lined journal with a silhouette of the New York skyline and “NY State of Mind” written on it for Charlotte; and a New York Mets baseball cap for Avery. “We could never get a Yankees cap—they’re the Red Sox’s biggest rivals,” Katani pointed out.

After a short stop at Michelle’s apartment they were packed and ready to go. Katani and Maeve thanked Michelle profusely and told her they’d had the time of their lives.

Michelle laughed. “Well, listen, you’re both welcome back any time—but only on one condition…when you two are either debuting your first fashion line or going to your Broadway premiere, I expect to be mentioned in the ‘Thank you’ speech!”

“It’s a deal!” Katani promised.

Everyone agreed they could make the quickest run back to Boston if Mr. Taylor would agree to take the main
highway. “After Thursday, Dad,” Maeve said sternly, “you should forget about retro roads and drive on the Interstate like everyone else.”

“Hey,” Sam chimed in, “how come we drive on parkways but park on driveways?”

The girls groaned. “Are you going to be like this all the way back to Brookline?” Maeve asked him.

“Maybe.” Sam grinned. “But I think we should take the the Interstate too.”

Maeve’s mouth fell open.

“Yeah,” he joked, “I don’t think I could stand it if we had another flat and needed another
girl
to rescue us!”

“Hey!” Maeve cried. “Sally was amazing!”

“Humph,” Sam sniffed. “I’d feel a lot better if I’d been saved by a real mechanic.”

“Puhlease!” Maeve huffed. “Sally
is
a ‘real’ mechanic!”

Mr. Taylor grinned at his daughter. “He’s eight, Maeve. Give him time. Eventually he’ll find out that girls are pretty good to have around.” Mr. Taylor turned toward the Interstate, and headed for home.

T
hat was an absolutely amazing adventure,” Charlotte declared Sunday night.

“Totally cool,” Avery pronounced.

“Awesomely fabulous,” Isabel added.

The BSG, finally together again, were sitting in the Tower exchanging stories of their weekend and sighing over Maeve and Katani’s “excellent adventure,” as Maeve had nicknamed it. Isabel was wearing the hair combs they’d brought her, Charlotte clasped the journal in her arms, and Avery already sported the Mets cap over her straight black hair.

Maeve and Katani regaled their friends with the misadventures and highlights of their trip to New York. At one point Avery laughed so hard at Maeve for not recognizing Simon Blackstone that Maeve threw Happy Lucky Thingy at her. Marty went completely insane and tried to wrestle Happy Lucky away from Avery. That, of course, sent all the BSG into a frenzy of giggles that did not stop
until Avery let go of Happy Lucky. After Maeve described in detail Simon kissing her hand, as well as his spur-of-the-moment concert, Charlotte decided that they needed to make a BSG reality show to save their stories and adventures for when they were older.

“My dad says my mother used to call things ‘swoony’ if they were just to die for,” Charlotte volunteered, “and what happened to you, Maeve, is 100 percent swoony. Imagine having your hand kissed by Simon Blackstone—wow! You HAVE to tell this story on video. You can show it to your kids when you are older.”

“Much better than being hugged by Danny Pellegrino,” Avery said, and Isabel choked.

“Thanks a lot,” she sputtered when she could talk. “It’s not exactly like I planned that.”

“Nope—you just were more afraid of the mummies than you were of Danny!” Avery laughed. Isabel threw a sequined pillow at her.

Avery ducked and then said to Maeve, “Admit it, Maeve. You’ll never wash that hand again, right?”

Maeve grinned. “Well, I’m tempted, but if I don’t, I’ll have to wear a glove…permanently!”

“Good point,” Isabel shuddered.

“Yeah, we get the picture,” Charlotte said.

“Anyway, if Rini actually does come to Boston like she says, I could end up in her music video—and who’d cast a girl with one gloved hand?” Maeve asked practically.

The girls laughed. Katani fished around in her bag and brought out something wrapped in brown paper, which she handed to Avery. “For you, Ave.”

Avery opened the brown paper and squealed out loud. “Oh, Katani! You got me Leah Kim’s autograph!”

“And on a program from the show,” Katani pointed out. “She wasn’t showing her own collection, but I saw her backstage. When I told her you were a big fan, she was glad to sign it.”

“Kgirl, I can’t believe you!” Maeve exclaimed. “You kept the Leah Kim sighting a secret from me, too.”

Katani grinned. “I figured it’d be a good surprise.”

Avery clasped the program to her. “I’m going to frame it! This is so cool!”

“I think it’s even cooler that Katani’s scarf was such a big hit at the show,” Isabel said.

“Well, I think that Katani ought to make more of them and sell them at Ms. Razzberry Pink’s store,” Charlotte suggested. “If they made such a splash at the show, can you imagine what they’d do here?”

“The problem is that if I sold them at Think Pink, they’d all have to be pink.” Katani laughed, and then a mysterious look came over her face.

“Here we go—Kgirl’s brain is churning,” chuckled Isabel.

And it was. Katani suddenly had visions of pink scarves in different hues and textures hanging from the windows at Think Pink.

“It’s been a ‘happily ever after’ weekend,” Maeve said dreamily. “Everything just fell into place, even though there were some rough spots along the way.”

“I know what you mean,” Katani said. “If anyone ever tries to get me to model again, drag me away, pronto!”

“At least Danny’s backed off some,” Charlotte said. “It was a pretty, should I say, ‘sticky’ trip to the museum, but it’s worth it if he gives Izzy some space…finally.”

“Who knows?” Isabel wondered. “Poor Danny, he didn’t realize that he just had to give us some space and then we’d miss him.”

The other girls gave good imitations of being sick. Isabel laughed. “I was kidding! But it does feel good not to worry anymore that he’s going to be popping up everywhere I go.”

“I still say,” Charlotte murmured, “that he and Betsy are a match made in heaven.”

But nobody else was listening. They were looking at the lovely gifts Maeve and Katani had brought back and marveling over one of the best weekends ever…

To be continued…