Ann Martin - Dawn's Big Move

"You don't sound too happy, either, Dad." I was fighting the urge to cry.

"Oh, Dawn, I'd be overjoyed if you came. Don't get me wrong. It's just that . . . well, I hope you're not setting yourself up for disappointment. It's not easy going back to a place after you've left."

"I know, but I don't want to move back. It would just be temporary."

Dad was silent for a long time. Finally he said, "I suppose I should talk with your mom."

"Mom?" I was mortified. "But — she doesn't — she'll think — "

"Don't worry. I'll explain everything. I'll say you called only to discuss the idea, not to make me side with you against her. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll go get her."

I ran out of the room. Mary Anne was peering from her doorway with huge, questioning eyes. I smiled and ran downstairs.

Mom was practically asleep, watching some old bearded man conduct an orchestra full of

younger bearded men and unbearded women. "Mom?" I said.

"Huh?"

"Dad's on the phone. Can you talk to him?"

Mom looked a little — well, annoyed, shocked, scared, wary, you name it. She picked up the extension in the kitchen. "Hello?"

I pretended I had things to do downstairs. I walked around the living room. Then I wiped off the clean dining room table. Then I inspected the dishwasher.

I heard snatches of conversation: ". . . midterm enrollment. . . after-school activities . . . statewide achievement standards . . . sure I feel that way. I'm human ... six months . . . you think so? . . . That would be nice . . . so sad lately. ..."

It was a looooong conversation. My imagination was going wild dreaming up ways to make myself look busy. By the time Mom hung up, I was examining the front hall carpet.

I ran into the kitchen. "Well?" I said. "Did you talk about it?"

I expected Mom's face to look all grumpy and thoughtful. But she gave me a warm smile. "Sure we did. It's the only thing we talked about. Give us some time, Dawn. It's a big change. We're going to sleep on it and talk again tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay, sure," I said. I nodded and went upstairs. I was cool. I was reasonable. I walked straight to my room. I shut the door behind me.

Then I buried my face in my pillow and screamed at the top of my lungs.

Mary Anne came running in. "Did they say yes?"

"No," I said, grinning.

"Then why were you screaming?"

"They didn't say no. And Mom wasn't angry!"

Mary Anne looked at me as if I were crazy. "Uh, okay. I guess that's progress."

"Yup," I said.

Mary Anne gave me another curious look, then went back to her homework.

Me? I guess I was happy to have the matter out in the open. I was sure that if I stuck to my guns, I had a chance.

And all I needed was a chance.

Chapter 6.

"Yes, it is early in the school year, but I'm not sure you understand," Morn was saying into the phone.

It was Sunday afternoon. Mom and Dad were talking for the second time that day. Their earlier conversation had been horrible. Mom had been crabby, and obviously Dad hadn't been any better. Fortunately, they seemed to be pretty calm now.

Mary Anne was off sitting for the Kuhns, and Richard was food shopping, so I had to face the tension alone. What do I like to do to relieve tension? Talk on the phone! Doesn't it figure? So instead, I decided to read a mystery — in the living room, conveniently within earshot of the kitchen.

"They're already a few weeks into the curriculum," Mom continued. "Yeah, I guess I should ask Mrs. Amer."

Whoa. This was a big breakthrough. Mrs.

Amer is my guidance counselor. So Mom and Dad were no longer talking about whether I should go, but how I would adjust if I did go!

I pulled myself together. A real "yes" was still a long way off. I knew I should remain calm, calm, calm.

"Okay, what else?" Mom said. "Yes, she does date . . . occasionally. Steady? Well, no, but there is a boy she writes to pretty often."

I blushed. That boy is Logan Bruno's cousin, Lewis. We had a great time when he visited, but we're more pen pals than anything now.

"Yes," Mom continued. "She has to be home by nine on weekdays and ten on weekends, unless she's sitting late. . . . Baby-sitting. . . . Clothes? Uh, yes, she picks them out herself. She's thirteen, you know."

Hmm. Dad was asking some pretty serious questions — some pretty dumb ones, too. I guess he was just trying to find out all he could about my life now. Visits are one thing, but Dad was going to have to be a parent to a teenaged girl.

Maybe. Maybe. I had to take things one step at a time.

When Mom hung up, I debated running into the kitchen. But before I could make up my mind, I heard her tapping out another number.

"Hi, Linda. It's Sharon Spier. I just need to

know the going rates for coach airfare to Los Angeles. ... I don't have a date yet. How far in advance do flights book up? . . . Uh-huh, right. . . . Well, thanks a lot. . . . Okay, 'bye."

Airfare? My jaw almost hit the floor. I flew into the kitchen. Mom was scribbling something on a pad of paper.

"Mom?" I squeaked.

She smiled knowingly. "Just checking things out. Airfares are so crazy these days."

"But those things you and Dad were talking about. ..."

"You weren't supposed to hear that!" Mom laughed. "We'll discuss it over dinner with the whole family."

"Over dinner? Come on, Mom. That's not fair. I'm dying to know what happened! What did Dad say? You decided something, didn't you? Otherwise you wouldn't want to talk about it with the whole family! Right? Oh, please please please tell me."

Mom kept smiling, although I thought I could see tears in her eyes. "Okay. Sit down, sweetheart, before you fly through the window."

I sat.

"We just don't know whether or not the Palo City school is teaching the same things as SMS," she began. "If not, you could end up terribly bored or terribly lost. Now, I need

to talk to Mrs. Amer tomorrow, and your dad's going to talk to a guidance counselor out there — "

"And if they say it's all right?" I butted in.

"Well, if they convince us that you'll be able to cope with the change, then yes, we'll let you go for six months."

I rocketed out of my chair and threw my arms around her. "Ohhhhh! You are the best, wonderfulest, understandingest mom in the universe!"

"Honey, please don't get your hopes up yet," Mom said gently. "Let's wait to hear what your counselor says."

"Right." I nodded and stood up. "I understand."

Ding-dong! "Delivery man!"

It was Richard. He pushed open the front door and clomped through the living room, loaded down with four humongous grocery bags. I have no idea how he managed to ring the doorbell.

Mom and I ran out and helped bring in the other bags. They barely fit on the kitchen counter.

"Quite a haul, huh?" Richard said proudly.

Richard shops with a boxful of coupons organized by category. He takes his calculator and makes sure to get only the groceries that are on sale. Then he figures out the percentage

he's saved over the regular prices.

Mom and I glanced inside the bags. "Did you remember the acorn squash?" Mom asked.

Richard's smile disappeared. A mistake! I don't know who was more surprised, Richard or Mom and me.

Well, we managed to reassure Richard that he had done a great job shopping. And he did bring us some slices of fabulous prepared la-sagna for dinner (vegetarian for me).

While we were eating, Mom broke the news to Mary Anne and Richard about her conversation with Dad. The four of us talked about it then, but only a little. No one wanted to talk about it too much until the trip was definite.

Later on Mary Anne and I squirreled away in my room. "I am sooo nervous!" Mary Anne squeaked.

"You're nervous?" I said. "How do you think / feel? What if Dad calls tomorrow and says the kids out there are studying, like, Ancient Streptococcus or something?"