“Just read it,” Mom said.
“Okay. For the game, the question is, what was Elvis Presley’s middle name?”
Sierra let out a groan, but Randy immediately answered, “Aaron.”
Tawni and Wes exchanged poker-face glances. “Is that your answer? It must be a team decision.”
Sierra looked at Randy. “Aaron? Are you sure?”
Randy nodded.
She couldn’t tell if he was right or not. He had come up with really bizarre and very wrong answers earlier in the game. She didn’t know him well enough to know if he was faking it or not. Sierra drew in a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with Aaron.”
“I don’t believe it!” Wes said, slapping the card onto the table. “It’s right.”
Randy slapped Sierra a high five. “We’re the victors!”
“All right! How did you ever know that?
“I told you my dad used to be in a band. I didn’t say it was a Christian band.”
They all pitched in to clear the table and carry the empty popcorn bowls and glasses to the kitchen. Everyone sat around talking for another half hour or so before Randy stood to leave.
“I better get going,” Randy said. “Thanks for a really great evening. ‘Bye, everyone. Nice meeting you all.”
Sierra’s family had said good-bye to Randy, and she walked him to the front door. Dad had fixed the doorknob. Still, Sierra opened it carefully. “Thanks for coming over and everything,” she said. “It really was a fun night.”
“This was the best first date with someone I’ve ever been on,” Randy said. Then looking over Sierra’s shoulder to make sure no one was listening, he added, “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“This was my first date of any kind.”
“You’re kidding! Mine too.” She started to laugh and Randy joined in.
“It’ll make the second date a whole lot easier,” Randy said. “I still want to take you to the movies. Maybe next weekend.”
“Sure. That would be fun.”
“Well, good night,” Randy said, giving her a crooked smile.
She held up her hand in a casual wave and said, “See you at school Monday.” He left, and she carefully closed the door behind him before returning to the kitchen.
“Well, did he kiss you?” Wes wanted to know.
“Of course not! We’re just friends. And you want to know something? He said it was his first date too.”
“It seemed as if he had a good time,” Mom said. “Once he got over the initial shock of our crazy introduction.”
“Thanks, you guys, for ‘double-dating’ with me,” Sierra said.
“Any time,” Dad said. Then, turning to Tawni, he asked, “Well, was that better than the Martin the Martian disaster?”
“It depends,” Tawni said.
“On what?”
“On whether or not he asks her out again. That will be the test.”
nineteen
SIERRA HAD A HARD TIME falling asleep that night. She felt as if she should think about Randy, what a fun guy he was, and how great the evening had gone. But she was thinking about Paul, wondering what it would be like to have him come over for pizza with her family. How well would Paul do at Trivial Pursuit? Would Paul have known Elvis’s middle name?
She kicked at the covers and turned on her side. What does it matter? Why am I thinking about him? My letter to him was enough to frighten anyone away. I can’t believe I wrote all those things. She thought back on how she had ended the letter, first by accusing him of using the word sincerely when she knew he wasn’t. And then by signing the letter so stupidly. What was it I wrote? “Irritatingly yours”? No, “very irritatedly.” Why did I do that?
With a groan she flipped over onto her back and stared at the dark ceiling. She remembered the notes in her journal about saying “forgive me” and “thank you,” and the wisdom of using them often in her youth. She wanted to say “forgive me” to Paul. Even if he still thought she was an immature nerd, she didn’t care. It was better than living with the memory of the unbridled words she had put into writing and mailed without thinking.
Sierra thought of how Granna Mae had told her last summer that whenever she had a big decision to make or if something was bothering her, she would bury it for three days and not think about it at all. Then, if on the morning of the third day, she found the choice or concern was alive, it would be evident God had resurrected it.
At the time, Sierra didn’t understand what Granna Mae meant and had thought her grandmother was rambling. Now Sierra understood. If she had buried that letter right after she wrote it, then when she went back and looked at it three days later, her emotions would have calmed down, and she would have been thinking more clearly. That’s what she would do next time. But for now, she needed to apologize.
In the stillness of the room, Sierra began to make her plan. Sunday afternoon she would write a letter of apology to Paul, and then she would call Katie and Christy to tell them that her dad had made the airline reservations.
As she began to doze off, feeling much more settled, Sierra remembered one of her recent verses from Isaiah. With my soul I have desired You in the night.
Sierra thought that was about the most romantic thing anyone could ever say to someone else. She whispered it aloud to the Lord. “With my soul I have desired You in the night, Jesus. Do You become tired watching me bumble things? Sometimes I get stuff right. Like tonight. That was a wonderful first date. Thanks for making it that way. Thanks for my family.”
Sierra thought again about the thank-you, forgive-me quote. It seemed that with the Lord, as with all her important relationships, the words she said most frequently were “forgive me” and “thank you.” She thought of how much better she would feel once she said “forgive me” to Paul.
But her eyes popped open when she remembered she had crumpled up his first letter and tossed it away. She wished she hadn’t. Once again the three-day resurrection principle would have been helpful.
The next morning, as Sierra dressed for church, Mom tapped on the bathroom door. “Sierra, may I come in?”
“Sure.”
“I just called the hospital to check on Granna Mae and guess what? The doctor was in her room, and he said we can bring her home this morning. Would you like to help me pick her up? He wants us to be there right away so he can go over instructions.”
“Of course I’ll go with you. Hang on. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Dad took the rest of the family to visit the church Tawni liked in Vancouver while Mom and Sierra drove to the hospital.
“I’m relieved to have her come home,” Mom said. “I know it will be a lot of work at first, but I’m glad I can count on you and Tawni to help out. She has her left foot in a cast, and I think they’re going to give her a cane. She should be able to walk upstairs if we help her. I think she’ll be glad to get back in her room.”
The doctor was waiting for them and had a list of printed instructions. One page was on caring for a patient with a broken bone, and the other was for a patient recovering from a gallbladder surgery. Sierra wished they had one for dealing with an elderly person who was losing her mind.
“How are you feeling?” Sierra said, leaning over and giving Granna Mae a kiss on the cheek. “Did the doctor tell you that you get to go home today? This is earlier than we thought. You’re doing so well!”
Granna Mae smiled and said, “Only a few like him are left in the world. Don’t let him slip away.”
Sierra assumed Granna Mae meant the doctor, who was standing right there. Granna Mae’s favorite doctor, Dr. Utley, who had performed the operation, was still on vacation. Tawni hadn’t thought much of this other doctor, but apparently Granna Mae did. Either that or she was rambling again.
“We’ll send up a wheelchair,” the doctor said as Mom signed some papers.
A nurse who had been standing nearby suggested, “You might want to make a trip to the car fi
rst to find a place for all these flowers.”
“I’ll take them,” Sierra said. “I can probably do it in a couple of trips.” She reached for the first gorgeous bouquet and read the card tucked in the plastic holder. It was some of Granna Mae’s neighbors. The next one was from her friends at Eaton’s Drug Store. There was a live plant from her friends at church. Sierra tried to balance the two bouquets and hold a vase in her hand. She got a good grip on them and was able to carry them all the way to the car only to discover it was locked.
On her second trip, she brought the keys and unlocked the car. All the flowers fit in the backseat just right, with enough room for Sierra to perch next to them on the way home.
She jogged back into the hospital, thinking about how great it was going to be to have Granna Mae home. She was glad Granna Mae had come through her surgery okay. Even with her broken foot and her memory problems, she was still alive.
When Sierra had met Paul, he was returning from his grandfather’s funeral in Scotland. They had talked about how close they each were to their grandparents. Sierra had always considered Granna Mae a good friend as well as her grandma. Paul had seemed to understand that.
Why am I thinking about Paul? I have to move on. I have other friends to think about—Randy, Amy, and Vicki, and maybe even Tawni in a unique way.
Sierra remembered she had invited Tawni to go to California with her over Easter. She still wasn’t sure why she had done that. The subject hadn’t appeared again on Tawni’s lips, so Sierra had determined not to bring it up either. Tawni had probably forgotten about the invitation. In two weeks, Sierra would be on her way to visit her good friends.
Until then, she had friends to eat lunch with at school, a possible date to the movies next weekend, more cinnamon rolls to serve, a dear Granna Mae to care for, and an apology letter to write.
When Sierra stepped back into the room, Granna Mae was already in the wheelchair, and her face was looking much brighter. “One more flower, Lovey!” she said. “I want to take all my daffies home with me. He was such a dear young man. Kept me company most of the evening after you left last night, Sharon.”
“That’s nice,” Mom said, gathering Granna Mae’s personal belonging from the restroom.
On the tray table was a small white vase with a single yellow daffodil. Sierra hadn’t noticed it before. It almost seemed like a small decorative touch that had been served with breakfast. She wondered if someone from the hospital had brought it from his garden. Maybe the young man Granna Mae was rattling on about was a volunteer who had taken a shine to her and kept her company last night while Sierra and her family were all at home, busy playing Trivial Pursuit.
“Are we ready?” Mom asked, preparing to push the wheelchair out the door.
Granna Mae turned to the doctor and held out her hand. He grasped it, and she held his. From her lips came a gracious “Thank you.” She thanked each of the nurses who came to say good-bye too. Sierra grabbed the final daffodil and followed the procession down the hall.
“Looks like you were pretty popular around here,” Sierra said as two more nurses looked up from the central nurses’ station and waved their good-byes. “I don’t know about you, Granna Mae,” Sierra teased. “Making friends everywhere you go, strange men bringing you flowers in the night.…”
The small gift card attached to the daffodil vase rubbed against Sierra’s thumb as she marched in Granna Mae’s exit parade. Sierra glanced at it. The sight of the bold, black letters made her stop in her tracks. In a mixture of cursive and printing, the card held only two words: “Sincerely, Paul.”
one
“COME ON, BRUTUS, help me out here, buddy. I know you can’t wait to get to the park, but you have to hold still.” Sierra pushed away her St. Bernard’s attempt to deliver a slobbery kiss and cinched the leash around his massive, furry neck. “Now remember what I said about being on your best behavior around Amy and her dog. She’ll be here any minute, and I don’t want you drooling all over her car’s backseat.”
Brutus returned Sierra’s gaze with droopy brown eyes as he panted expectantly.
“Don’t give me that innocent look.” Sierra sat down on the floor of the front hallway and tugged on her old cowboy boots. “I’m serious. The only way to make a friend is to be a friend, and that’s your job today. Be nice, okay?”
Am I talking to Brutus or to myself? Sierra wondered. Ever since Amy had asked Sierra if she wanted to go to the waterfront park on Saturday morning, she had been a little nervous. Making new friends in Portland had not come easily to her. Amy Degrassi was the closest thing Sierra had to a friend here, and she didn’t want to blow it.
“That’s the doorbell. Let’s go, Brutus.” That’s all it took to persuade the big fur ball to take off.
Sierra grabbed his collar and opened the front door. Dark-eyed Amy met her with a laugh. “You weren’t kidding! He is a monster.”
“We don’t have to take him if you don’t want to,” Sierra said, pulling hard on the leash to keep Brutus from knocking Amy over in his excitement to get outside.
“I think he would be fiercely disappointed,” Amy said.
Sierra followed Amy to her car, a 1986 Volvo with a badly peeling paint job. On the backseat, with twig-like paws pressed against the window, was Peanut, Amy’s itty-bitty Chihuahua.
“He’s no bigger than a rat!” Sierra said. “I don’t think this is such a good idea, Amy. I’m afraid Brutus is going to squash him. Or eat him.”
“They’ll be fine. Look, Peanut, I brought you a new friend.”
Sierra expected the miniature dog to turn tail and look for a place to hide. Instead, he yipped merrily, clawing at the closed window. Brutus pressed both his paws on the glass and studied his new companion. He turned to give Sierra a look, which she imagined meant, “Is this a joke? You expect me to hang out with this little leftover?” But Brutus barked without malice, and when Amy opened the door, he even waited for Peanut to hop off the seat before he bounded inside.
“See?” Amy said. “They’re going to be great friends.”
Sierra’s amazement didn’t cease as they drove off and headed for Burnside Bridge. She peeked over her shoulder and saw the two unlikely companions sniffing each other and making all the right kinds of amiable dog motions.
“I never would have guessed,” Sierra said, turning back around. As she did, a tangle of her long, curly blond hair caught in the headrest. “Ouch!”
“Ouch?”
“My hair got caught.”
“I hate when that happens,” Amy said, tossing her wavy, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m ready to chop mine off. I wish I had Vicki’s hair—straight and sleek.”
Most of the girls at school wished they had hair like Vicki’s. Not to mention a face, body, and personality like hers. She was the kind of person that made people, especially guys, stop to look twice.
“Don’t you hate having naturally curly hair?” Amy asked.
“Yes.” Sierra tugged the locks from the metal bar and left several strands behind. The truth was Sierra had given up wishing her hair were different. Cutting it only made it curlier. Living in the moist climate of Portland, Oregon, only made it curlier. Every kind of curl-taming shampoo she had ever used only made it curlier. She had decided long ago to let it just go wild.
“I think Vicki is interested in Randy,” Amy said. “Did he say anything to you about her?”
“No, why would he? Randy has barely spoken to me this week.”
“Why isn’t he talking to you?” Amy asked as she eased into a parking place along a side street. She pulled out her ashtray and sorted through the coins. “I thought you guys were buddies.”
“I don’t know. I’d like to think so. Here, I have some money.”
Sierra opened her backpack and pulled out three quarters for Amy.
In the backseat, both dogs were eagerly barking and yipping.
“Okay, okay,” Sierra said. “You boys get out the side door. And mind your manne
rs, Brutus.” She opened the back door slowly, tangling with Brutus’s leash until she had a firm grip. Amy put the coins into the meter as Peanut ran around her feet in circles.
“Are you excited about your trip next week?” Amy asked.
“Yes, I’m really looking forward to it.” Sierra kept her answer nice and tame. Actually, she was so excited that the last two nights she had had a hard time falling asleep. She had been thinking about her friends Christy, Katie, Tracy, Todd, and Doug. She hadn’t seen them since they were together in England three months ago. With Easter vacation around the corner, Sierra had big plans to spend the week with them. But she toned down her answer because she didn’t want Amy to think she was so wrapped up in those friends that she wasn’t in the market for a few new ones.
“I wish I were going somewhere fun.” Amy said, dropping the last coin in the meter. “It’s going to be pretty uneventful around here.”
“Brutus!” Sierra cried. He had run out of patience during their small talk and taken off across the grass at a gallop, with Sierra sailing behind him at the end of his leash. Not to be outdone, Peanut yipped wildly, tippy-tap-toeing his way after them.
Brutus flew across the long stretch of grass and came to a screeching halt in front of the water fountain. This downtown Portland landmark was designed with several circles of holes bored into the concrete sidewalk. The holes shot arcs of water ten or more feet into the air before they all convened in the center. It wasn’t a particularly warm April morning, yet a few kids were dodging in and out of the watery spires, trying to weave their way through the open spaces before the water pattern changed and the kids got soaked.
“Don’t even think of it, Brutus,” Sierra said, pulling him back toward the walkway. They waited for Amy and Peanut to catch up, and then Sierra and Amy tried to walk along the waterfront like normal people out for a Saturday stroll on a fine spring morning. Such an activity proved impossible.
Brutus galloped ahead despite Sierra’s trying to slow him down. Peanut, not willing to be outdone, sprinted. He looked as if he would have a heart attack before they had gone more than a hundred yards. Joggers and bikers passed them, turning their heads for a second look at the giant bumbler and tiny toe-tapper. Some of them laughed at the strange sight.