Ann Martin - Stacey's Broken Heart

"No, you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"Well, maybe," he said, laughing.

"I just didn't want to hear what you had to say about Robert. But you were right. You were right about everything."

"Ahhh," Dad said, "that's music to a father's ears."

I laughed. "No, really. I think we are too young. Maybe both of us were feeling it but we didn't know. It's better if we date different people. I see that now."

Dad nodded and then reached across the table to place his hand on mine. "Are you all right, Stacey?" he asked. "You can know things are for the best in theory but not feel that way in your heart."

Unexpectedly, his words brought a mist of tears to my eyes. I wondered if that was how he felt about his divorce from Mom. It was surely how I felt about the situation with Robert.

Roughly, I brushed at my eyes. "I'll be okay," I assured him.

Dad patted my hand. "That's my girl."

We finished our brunch and Dad requested the check. "Why don't you run up to the Walkers' while I pay? I'll meet you out front

in a cab and we'll go to Grand Central."

"Deal," I said, getting up from the table. I hurried out of the cafe and over to the Walkers' place.

"Stacey, hi," Mrs. Walker greeted me at the door. "I'm so glad you stopped by. I bought you a little something to say thanks." She took a package wrapped in blue tissue paper from the front hall drawer.

"Thanks," I said, pulling apart the tissue. It was a gorgeous pair of hammered bronze earrings, small mobiles, like the kind Mrs. Walker wore.

"A jewelry designer friend of mine makes them," Mrs. Walker explained. "I saw you admiring mine. I hope you like them."

"I. do," I said sincerely as I put them on, staring into the front hall mirror. I'd never even told Mrs. Walker how much I liked hers. She'd just noticed. I suppose being observant is a quality good artists have. "Are Henry and Grace 'around?" I asked. "I'd like to say goodbye."

"Henry! Grace!" Mrs. Walker called down the hall.

The kids came running. "Hi, Stacey!" Henry shouted. ".Where are we going today?"

"I'm going home, I'm afraid," I said, bending to his level.

"Why are you afraid?" Henry asked seriously.

"Oh," I said. "That's only an expression." (Although, in a way, I was afraid.)

Grace hugged me and then Henry reached over her and added his hug. I squeezed them back. I'd really miss them.

As the hug reached the minute mark, Mrs. Walker gently pried the kids off me. "That's enough now," she told them. "Stacey has to

go—"

" 'Bye," I said, my hand on the doorknob. "It was a great week."

" 'Bye, Stacey," Mrs. Walker said fondly. "Give our regards to your parents."

"I will." I left the Walkers' and headed down the hall, feeling sad. I pressed the down button on the elevator and waited. When the door opened, Ethan was standing there.

"Stacey!" he cried.

"Hi, Ethan," I said, stepping into the elevator with him. "I'm leaving today, so I came up to say good-bye."

He let the elevator door shut and pressed the down button for me. "You're going down again, too," I reminded him, laughing.

"So what? I don't mind taking a ride with you," he replied, his eyes smiling into mine.

"I'll even go to the station with you, if you want."

"My dad is waiting outside in a cab for me,"x I told him. "You can come, too."

Ethan shook his head. "No thanks. I want to get all decked out when I meet your dear old dad." We both glanced down at his torn jeans. He probably had the right idea. I was happy to hear him say he planned on meeting Dad. "Listen," he said, suddenly seeming shy. "I'd like to see you again. I mean, when you're in town. Is that okay? Would you like to?"

I nodded, feeling very happy. "I would like to, yeah."

"You're not seeing someone else or anything?"

"I was. But that's over now." Saying the words wasn't nearly as awful as I'd expected.

Ethan smiled. "Do you have a phone number?"

Rummaging in my pocketbook, I found a pen and wrote my city number and my Stoneybrook number on the back of my crumpled ticket for the Circle Line cruise. "There," I said, handing it to him. "What's your number?"

Ethan wrote his number on an old museum ticket I found in my wallet.

He walked me to the front of the building. There weren't any mushy good-byes because

Dad was there in a cab waiting in the street. "I'll call you," Ethan said, waving as I climbed into the cab.

" 'Bye!" I called. And then the cab pulled away. I waved to Ethan until we turned the corner. Then he was gone.

Sitting forward in the seat I thought about going home, and what my next conversation with Robert would be like.

Chapter 15.

I couldn't believe it. Before I was even at my front door, who came up the street but Andi Gentile. I saw her as Mom and I pulled into the driveway. Couldn't she even wait for me to get my suitcase unpacked before coming over to tell me she'd stolen Robert?

"Is this a friend of yours?" Mom asked, getting out of the car.

"Not exactly," I said as Andi turned up our front walkway. "But I know her."

Mom went into the house and left me standing by the car. Andi stopped and faced me. Her expression was so tortured and unhappy it actually made me feel sorry for her. I didn't want to feel that. I wanted to be angry.

I couldn't help it, though. She looked as if she were about to cry.

"Stacey, I have to tell you something," she began unhappily. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

"I already know," I said.

"You do?" She gasped. "How . . . could you?"

"Manhattan isn't another planet, you know," I said bitingly. "There are phones there."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. Robert and I just kept running into each other and when we did we always had a lot to talk about and a lot of laughs and — "

"It's all right," I said, cutting her off. I really didn't want to hear about their good times.

"It's all right?" Andi repeated, daring to step across the lawn toward me. "I don't understand."

"I don't own Robert," I said, and saying the words helped me realize they were true. "If you and Robert want to be together then I can't stop you. I shouldn't stop you."

"I don't want you to hate me, Stacey," said Andi.

"I don't hate you." Oddly enough, that was true, too. I didn't. How could I blame her for liking Robert? I knew how much there was to like about him. "I don't hate you," I repeated more softly. "But I would kind of like to be alone now. Okay?"

"Okay, sure. I'm glad we talked."

"Yeah, me too," I replied, turning toward my house.

Inside, I leaned against the door, catching my breath. Almost immediately, I heard the phone ring. "Yes, she's here, Robert. Just a moment," I heard Mom say into the cordless phone in the dining room. She brought the phone to me. "For you."

"Hi, Stacey," he said. The sound of his voice made my hands shake. "How was the city?"

"Fine," I said, my voice actually trembling.

"Can I come over?" he asked.

"Sure.".

"I'm at a phone booth. I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay." I clicked, off and clutched the phone.

"You all right?" Mom asked, seeing my expression.