Holly's Heart Collection Two (7 page)
On the way to Denver, Andie and I sat in the backseat, singing last year’s choir tour songs. When we ran out of songs, we played alliteration games, making sentences with words that started with the same letter.
I started. “Pathetic Paula parades her perfect pose, posture, and clothes. She pampers pets par excellence with pink poodle pajamas.”
Andie chimed in. “Paula ponders Paris, posh parlors, and Park Avenue!”
“With palette paint on her cheeks and purple powder on her eyelids,” I finished, giggling.
Mrs. Martinez turned around in her seat. “Girls, are you making fun of someone?”
Andie and I looked at each other. “Not really,” Andie lied. We smothered giggles behind our hands.
All too soon, we arrived at Denver International Airport. At least we had had two hours together before Christiana waltzed into our lives.
While Andie’s dad parked the car, I looked at snapshots of Christiana. “Here’s one,” Andie said as we sat in the airport waiting area. “She’s standing in front of Mozart’s home in Salzburg. Can you imagine living in the same city as Mozart?”
“Bet you’d like to see it for yourself,” I commented, studying the tall house with many windows.
Before she could answer, Andie’s dad arrived, looking for the monitors posting departures and arrivals.
“There’s one down there, Daddy,” Andie said. We hurried to look at it.
“Let’s see, flight 227 from New York…yep, it’s on time.”
There was a certain amount of ecstasy in Andie’s voice. I tried to overlook it. After all, this was a special moment for her.
Andie hurried to the baggage claim area. “I can’t believe Christiana’s almost here!”
I couldn’t believe it, either. I was trying hard to squelch the green-eyed monster. It sure was causing me trouble.
Andie and I spotted the Austrian beauty right away. Being tall is an asset sometimes. She floated through the airport like some fairy-tale princess. A peaches-and-cream complexion graced her fair face, and she broke into a full smile at the sight of Andie. Hugging like old friends, the girls were quickly lost in conversation. For what seemed like several minutes I waited, rather impatiently, for Andie to introduce me.
At long last, Andie turned to me. “Holly, I’d like you to meet Christiana Dertnig. And Christiana, this is a friend of mine, Holly Meredith.”
Immediately my ears perked up. In just minutes I’d been reduced to a mere friend. What about lifelong
best
friend?
Christiana extended her hand. “So very nice to meet you, Holly,” she said. Perfect King’s English.
I reached out, warming up my smile. “Same here” was all I could say.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Andie’s letters,” Christiana said. “You’re the girl Andie made up so you could fool your college pen pal, right?”
My face flamed. “Sort of,” I mumbled. I disliked her instantly. Why’d she have to bring up one of the most embarrassing episodes of my life? And at our very first meeting!
Andie explained, “Christiana loves pulling tricks on people. They play jokes on each other all the time at her girls’ school. She loved hearing about our plan to trick Lucas Leigh.”
“That’s nice,” I said, fibbing through my teeth.
The entire trip home was spent discussing Christiana’s hopes for her visit to America. One thing was clear: She wanted to attend a rock concert.
“Andie’s never attended one,” her mother said. “And I don’t anticipate her father and I will change our minds about
that
issue.”
Christiana’s blue eyes widened. She was obviously shocked at the parental interference.
“There’s a Mandee Trent concert in Denver next weekend,” Andie’s dad said. It was only a suggestion, but he seemed eager to steer the conversation away from rock concerts.
“Mandee Trent?” Christiana said. “Who’s that?”
“She’s a hot Christian pop singer,” I volunteered.
“Oh,” she said, like it was nothing.
“What about classical?” Andie’s mother said. “I understand you enjoy Mozart.”
Christiana the Great replied, “In Salzburg, we are surrounded by serious music.”
“So maybe we should expose you to other types here,” Andie said. She was beginning to sound like the Queen of England herself. I could hardly wait to get out of the car. Away from this strawberry blonde who seemed to affect everyone in her path.
Then Andie’s mother mentioned my party. “Holly has a Valentines Day birthday,” she said. “And she’s invited you both to a make-over party tonight.”
Christiana had no idea what that was all about. Briefly, Andie explained.
I wasn’t surprised when Christiana decided she would not be interested in a make-over. No doubt she was quite satisfied with her present look, thank you very much.
That afternoon Andie escorted Christiana around to the principal and all the teachers at Dressel Hills Junior High. They’d been expecting her, of course, so the reception was red-carpet.
I ate lunch with Jared, without Andie. “Everyone’s freaking out over Christiana,” I moaned. “Especially Andie.”
“It won’t last forever,” he assured me.
“Even Danny Myers is following her around, volunteering his services.”
“Hmm,” Jared said. “Sounds serious. Are you jealous?”
“Are you kidding?” I laughed, and Jared grinned.
All day I avoided Paula as best I could. And it wasn’t easy. She kept showing up at the most conspicuous places. Places like the stall next to mine in the girls’ bathroom. And in the exact same section of the library—three books down. This was turning into a nightmare. Mostly because I refused to forgive her. How many times had she asked—begged—for my pardon?
Seeing her grim face only reminded me of that horrible tube in my cat’s stomach. Poor little Goofey. His suffering had been caused by a senseless act, and it was totally Paula’s fault.
When it came to prayer, I avoided the forgiveness issue with God. It was much easier to pray about a zillion other things, like Goofey’s restored health and Christiana’s quick return to her homeland.
There was one request I asked for repeatedly, however. “Dear Lord,” I prayed, curling up on my window seat after school. “I need your wisdom and help as fast as you can send it. It’s about Goofey’s next home. He needs a new one—fast! Please let it be a place where I can visit him every day. Could you do something soon? Amen.”
I reached for my journal and recorded my thoughts.
Friday, February 11: I miss Andie already. Every time I looked for her at school today she was tied up with Christiana. I want to disappear and come back AFTER Christiana leaves!
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
The phone rang.
“Holly!” Mom called. “It’s for you.”
The vet was on the line. Goofey was being released tomorrow. A sad lump squeezed my throat.
“You’ll need to monitor his eating and drinking for several more days,” the vet reminded me.
I swallowed the lump. My heart was pounding. My darling Goofey was well, but for a cat without a home, this was horrible news. “Is there any way you can keep him a little longer?” I asked.
A short pause, then, “Is there a problem?”
Quickly, I shared my dilemma.
“We have a kennel of sorts,” he explained, “but we can only keep him up to a week here.”
“How much will it cost?” I thought of the birthday money I’d already started acquiring from relatives.
“About ten dollars a day,” the vet said.
Mentally I tallied up my money. I had just enough to handle it. “Let’s do that,” I said. “Uh, only if I can visit Goofey every day.”
“No problem. We’ll look forward to seeing you. Good-bye.”
I hung up the phone feeling a little better. But I wasn’t independently wealthy, of course. And Mom must never find out about this. She wouldn’t approve of using birthday money for Goofey’s temporary housing.
When Uncle Jack arrived home, he took me for a quick visit with Goofey. My cat seemed much better, more energetic. And he licked my hand repeatedly as if to tell me so.
When we returned home, I helped Mom set out the makeup and stuff for my birthday party. Together, we turned the kitchen into a beauty salon, complete with facial and beauty kits and hand mirrors for each girl. It was fabulous.
“The guests will be here in one hour,” I said, thinking of the Patterson and Meredith family members. “Where are we gonna stash all our kids?”
“Well, let’s see,” Mom said, grinning. “Uncle Jack took Phil and Mark out for the evening. Stan’s going to make himself scarce in his room, and Carrie and Stephie are planning their own party.”
I sat down on a barstool, absently picking up a creamy-pink blush. “I hope this make-over thing is a good idea.” Christiana’s snide remark this morning had me worried.
Mom stopped arranging things for a moment and looked at me. She pushed a stray hair off her forehead. “Is everything okay, Holly-Heart?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I really miss Andie.”
I heard her sigh. Extra loud. “This isn’t about Christiana, is it?”
“Who else?” I muttered.
I ran upstairs to change clothes. By the time I freshened up and slipped into a clean pair of jeans and sweater, Mom was knocking on my bedroom door.
I let her in.
“How’s my birthday girl?”
“Oh, Mom.” I ran into her outstretched arms. “I love you!”
She hugged me bone hard. “Let’s start getting the sloppy joes ready. Your guests will be arriving very soon.”
I followed her downstairs. It was amazing; Mom could calm me down, no matter what. One of her many God-given gifts.
Speaking of gifts, Daddy sent me money from California, as usual. I wondered what my best friend would give me for my fourteenth birthday. As for Christiana, I would be lucky if she cracked her face to give me the slightest smile.
The doorbell rang, and I ran to get it. Shauna and Joy were first to arrive. A few minutes later Amy-Liz showed up. By the time I’d hung up their jackets, the doorbell rang again. This time it was Andie with her shadow—er, pen pal—Christiana.
“Happy birthday,” Andie said, giving me a big hug.
“Thanks,” I said. “Glad you’re here.”
Christiana reached out to shake my hand like she had at the airport this morning. Reluctantly, I held out mine.
Z-z-z-z-t-t!
I shrieked and jumped back. Christiana had zapped me with a hand zinger.
“Ooh, she got you good, Holly,” Amy-Liz exclaimed. The girls laughed.
“Are you all right?” Christiana said, trying not to smirk.
I nodded, forcing a smile.
Andie giggled. “Remember, I told you Christiana loves practical jokes.”
Rubbing the zing off my palm, I led them into the kitchen. Christiana immediately launched off on entertaining my guests with her stories. She talked about Vienna and Mozart’s
The Magic Flute.
I couldn’t imagine Amy-Liz or Shauna or any of the others being half as interested as they looked. I was the one interested in classical music. They were diehard Mandee Trent fans.
“What’s school like in Salzburg?” I asked.
“I attend a boarding school,” Christiana said. “It’s an all-girl school.”
“You sleep over?” Amy-Liz asked.
Christiana chuckled. “It’s great fun. We pull jokes on each other nearly every night.”
