Bravo, Mia Page 3

  I think we all felt that things were going to be just fine as long as we had Coach Schubert in our corner.

  After the coach’s pep talk, I resolved to do my strengthening and flexibility exercises, even though I usually find them boring. I rushed home to get started before everyone came home for dinner. However, when I walked through the front door of our house, I stopped when I heard all the noise. The furnace was rattling louder than usual. It was so bad that I stood there for a moment, trying to decide if it was just that or if there was also someone banging around in the back of the closet—because there shouldn’t have been. We keep a chart with everyone’s schedule, and I knew that I should be the only one home right now.

  I grabbed the telephone on the table by the door, in case I needed to dial 911. The thumps moved from the back of the closet toward me, and the coats by the doorway began to move. Frightened, I raised the receiver to use it as a club.

  “Is it something I said?” Mom asked as she came out of the closet on a pair of crutches, one hand awkwardly clutching a feather duster. “Or do you greet everyone in your family this way?”

  Sheepishly, I put the receiver back into the cradle. “What happened, Mom?”

  She nodded down at the cast on her leg. “I took a bad tumble at work this morning. Sarah took me to the hospital and dropped me back here an hour ago.” Sarah’s one of Mom’s coworkers. “Your dad’s driving his boss into the city and couldn’t get back in time.”

  I snatched the feather duster from her. “You just broke your leg? You should be lying down in bed—or at least on the sofa. Not cleaning! Does it—does your leg hurt a lot?”

  “Not right now,” Mom said. “And I was lying down, but I was having trouble resting with the house such a mess. There’s so much to do around here that it’s driving me a little crazy.”

  I decided that my exercises and homework could wait until later. I motioned Mom toward the sofa. “Let me handle this. You just sit.”

  I pulled a pile of newspapers and a basket of clean laundry off the couch so that she could rest. Then I grabbed a pencil and paper. “Let’s make a list. What needs to be done, beginning with the most important?”

  As the list grew longer, I realized how much Mom does, and how much we all take her for granted. “How do you do it all?” I asked when she was finally done. “How do you balance all this with your jobs—and our sports?”

  Mom gave a little shrug. “I’ve learned to focus on what has to be done at a given moment. I just tell myself to take it one step at a time. But lying here doing nothing, it all got to be a bit overwhelming. Which is why I tried to start dusting. Pretty goofy of me, I guess.” Mom shook her head and laughed at herself. “But tell me about your day, Mia.”

  I started to say something about needing new skate boots, but I stopped. Mom didn’t need one more thing to worry about at this particular moment, and that could wait until later. Right now, I just wanted to see Mom smile, so before I tackled the list, I intended to give her a big dose of TLC.

  First, I made her as comfy as I could, plumping up cushions beneath her head and under her cast. The house was colder than usual, so I put a blanket over her legs. Then I continued to pick up until the living and dining rooms were, if not spotless, at least neater.

  “You know,” I said, talking in a loud voice so that I could be heard over the banging of the furnace, “Grandmom always says that there’s a silver lining to every cloud. Since you’re going to have to stay home, we’ll get to do more things together.”

  Mom perked up. “Sure, just us girls.”

  “I’ll borrow some movies from the library for us,” I said, growing excited at the prospect. She and I are often outvoted on film choices by the males in the family, although we sometimes force the boys to watch a musical with us.

  Mom nodded in agreement. “It’d be nice to see a show that didn’t involve cars crashing or buildings blowing up.” She clasped my hand suddenly. “And because the doctor doesn’t want me to go back to work right away, I was thinking that maybe I could go to Regionals with you. I’m sure Mrs. Sorokowski and Anya wouldn’t mind sharing their room with me, too.”

  “You mean you’d be there with me the whole time?” I asked.

  Mom grinned and nodded. “Instead of just driving up on the day of the competition with your dad and the boys.”

  “I’d really love that,” I said cautiously, “but can you really do it?”

  “You couldn’t keep me away,” she insisted.

  I still didn’t know what to do about my skates, but I wasn’t about to let something like that keep me from taking a trip with Mom.

  “We had a meeting today, and Coach Schubert said we should dress nicely off the ice as well as on it,” I said. “So what do you think I should wear?” I usually like to make my own choices now, but I thought Mom would enjoy giving me her opinion.

  I had expected Mom to talk it through while she lay on the sofa, but she immediately insisted on clumping up to my bedroom to check out my wardrobe personally. I managed to make her lie down on my bed while I took various things from my closet and drawers.

  Mom’s part-time job at a boutique lets her get some very nice things for me at a discount, so I knew I wouldn’t be an embarrassment to the skating club. Mom wanted to see everything I had, so she kept me hopping as she had me try on different outfits, mixing and matching.

  Mom sighed happily, “This is so fun, Mia, and we don’t get to do this very often. Don’t get me wrong. I love the boys, but I’m grateful that I finally had a girl, too.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, their idea of high fashion is a new sweatshirt.”

  Mom pointed at my green skating dress. “Try it on,” she urged. “I always enjoy seeing you in it.”

  That wasn’t any burden, because I wanted to put it on. I hadn’t worn it since January. But now it was snug in all the wrong places. First the boots, now the dress, I complained to myself. Why does my whole outfit have to pick on me?

  Worry lines appeared on Mom’s forehead. “Stop tugging, dear. You’ll tear it.”

  “I’ve almost got it on,” I said, trying to wriggle into it.

  “No,” she said softly. “You’ve outgrown it.” Suddenly she sat bolt upright. “And if you’re too big for your dress, I’ll bet that means you’re too big for your boots, too. Am I right?”

  I stood there, still half-out of the dress, and nodded. “Oh, Mom, what can we do?”

  This was a double whammy. My green dress was a hand-me-down from my cousin, but she had given up skating, so I couldn’t borrow anything more from her. How could I go to Regionals without a dress?

  It’s funny. A few days ago I’d been afraid of going to Regionals. Now I was afraid I wouldn’t get to go—and I felt disappointed rather than relieved. I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted to be there despite everything that could go wrong. I guess what’s worse than failing is not even getting the chance to fail.

  “You can’t help growing,” Mom said, trying to calm me.

  “But skating dresses are so expensive,” I said, almost ready to cry. “Vanessa told us she spent a lot on her gold-star costume last year—you know, the one that lost all the beads.”

  “Well, I don’t give up that easily—and you shouldn’t either,” Mom insisted. “I keep a little pin money for unexpected emergencies just like this. It should take care of at least part of the cost, and as for the rest,” she smiled reassuringly, “well, we’ll find a way. We always do, don’t we?”

  Mom is the real competitor in our family—only she does it with the family budget rather than on skates. I bet that she could teach even the coach a thing or two.

  Mom got to enjoy being the center of attention the rest of that day and the next. Dad piled so many pillows and cushions behind her that she was practically sitting up rather than lying down. He would have spoiled her more, but the furnace was making more noise than ever while putting out less heat, so he spent a lot of time down in the basement, trying to nurse it ba
ck to health.

  We each were wearing several sweaters against the growing cold, and unfortunately for Mom, my brothers decided to keep warm by taking care of her. In their typical fashion, they turned it into a competition, so if Mom asked for a cup of tea, she got three different flavors, which she had to take turns sipping so that she wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.

  If she wanted to watch television, my brothers fought over the remote, pressing the buttons insistently so that images flashed across the screen with headache-causing speed.

  At Mom’s suggestion, I’d borrowed a catalog of skating dresses from Anya so that we could pick one and order it in time for Regionals. I think she had hoped we two girls could spend some time alone selecting one, but my brothers turned it into yet another contest, each lobbying for a dress in his own team’s colors. In the middle of a lecture from Rick about how green and gold were the best, there was a terrible groan from the basement, followed by a huge thud, as if an elephant had just collapsed.

  Running to the cellar door, I shouted, “Dad, are you okay?”

  To my relief, he trudged up the steps, his face streaked with dirt. “I’m fine,” he said, hanging his head as if in mourning, “but that furnace and I have danced our last waltz together. I’m afraid that not even a truckload of duct tape can bring it back to life. It’s finally time to get a new one.” He knelt down next to the sofa where Mom was resting. Putting their heads together, they spoke in low, urgent whispers. They seemed almost ready to cry when they turned around.

  “We need a family council,” Dad said solemnly. I turned off the TV and joined my brothers on the rug.

  Mom cleared her throat. “You know money’s been tight lately. With this broken leg, I’ll eventually get some disability income, but I won’t be able to work at either of my jobs for a while. Which makes things even tighter than they already were.”

  Dad clasped his grimy hands. “And replacing the furnace is going to be a very expensive proposition. Your mom and I thought we could nurse it through one more season, but…”

  “Macaroni and cheese, here we come,” Rick sighed.

  “Quiet, small fry,” Perry said. “We’ll make whatever sacrifices Mom and Dad say we need to make.”

  Mom and Dad exchanged glances, each of them reluctant to be the one to break the bad news to us. Finally, it was Mom who went on. “You know how your dad and I have always tried to let each of you live up to his or her potential.”

  “You’ve always been incredible that way,” Skip reassured them, and the rest of us nodded.

  “I’ve been trying and trying to make the figures work,” Mom said, “but as you all know, we have two important things coming up—Mia’s Regionals and Perry’s tournament. Fees and travel are costly for both. And Mia has outgrown both her dress and her boots.”

  Dad blurted it out. “But now we have to get a new furnace, an expense we can’t put off any longer. Which means that we can pay either for Perry to go to his tournament or for Mia to go to Regionals—but we can’t do both.”

  “Can’t we rough it like pioneers?” Rick asked, pantomiming chopping wood. “You know, burn logs in the fireplace?”

  Dad shook his head. “The weather forecasters say that there’s already a freeze coming. And that it’s going to be an early and cold winter.”

  “There are going to be college scouts at Perry’s tournament,” I said in a small voice. This was going to be his big chance.

  Perry, though, knew how much Regionals meant to me. “But you’ve dreamed about going to Regionals, and you’ve worked hard all year.”

  “Yeah,” Skip agreed, “how many opportunities will Mia get? I hope it’s lots, but maybe…well…” He let his shrug stand for the negative side.

  “We know Perry can hold his own against anyone,” Rick countered. “But up until now Mia’s only skated against local competition. At Regionals, she’ll have to go up against big-time skaters. She could be way out of her league. Maybe waiting a year would be good for her.”

  Perry and I studied each other uncomfortably. I knew that he knew how hard I’ve worked to be good enough to go to Regionals. But I knew how hard he’s worked, too—and what the tournament means for him.

  Suddenly, he clapped his hands together. “Well, there’s only one thing to do.”

  I let my breath out slowly. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it. “Toss the Coin of Destiny,” I said.

  I’m not sure how other families handle difficult choices, but our family has been settling matters with Dad’s magic thumb since Perry and Skip were small. I think it was Rick who came up with the name for it.

  “Are you sure, both of you?” Mom asked quietly. “I wish we had a better way of settling this, but I’m at my wit’s end as to how to do it.”

  “It’s fairer than asking you to choose between us,” Perry said.

  I just nodded, not trusting my voice anymore.

  Dad dug into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Heads or tails?” he asked me.

  “Heads,” I said.

  With a flick of his thumb, he sent the coin tumbling end over end upward into the air. The reflected lamplight flickered from the sides, and I couldn’t help thinking that my future rested on that one silly coin.

  And then it was falling. When it landed on the carpet, it flipped over. It was tails.

  Perry looked at me sadly. “I’m sorry, Sis. How about we make it two out of three?”

  My lip wanted to tremble, but I stopped it. If our parents have taught us one thing, it is to be good sports. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. And no to two out of three. The risk was fifty-fifty, so the toss could have just as easily gone against you.”

  Perry understood me too well. “But I know what Regionals mean to you.”

  He was trying to be kind, but talking about it was only making the hurt worse. “And I know what the tournament means to you. It’s…it’s okay, Perry. Honestly, I’m happy for you.”

  “You’ve got guts, Sis,” Skip said approvingly, looking at me with the same respect he would give to someone who had just taken one for the team.

  Perry’s head drooped. “But no glory.” I think he was feeling almost as bad as I was that I had lost.

  For his sake, I tried to keep my head up high. “I’m not giving up on my dreams,” I said. “I’m just postponing them for a little while.” At least, I hoped that was all it was, and that I would get another chance. When I felt the stinging at the corners of my eyes, I knew my own private Niagara Falls was coming on. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I murmured.

  I had wanted to march out of there with dignity, but instead I wound up running from the room.

  About an hour later, I was still crying quietly into my pillow when I heard a tap at my door. “What is it?”

  Skip’s voice came muffled through the door. “I just thought you might want some hot chocolate to cheer—I mean, to warm you up.”

  “I don’t feel like company now,” I said.

  Skip opened the door a crack so that the aroma could waft into the room. “But hot chocolate always makes you feel better.”

  I gave in. Dragging my sleeve across my eyes to wipe away any last tears, I sat up. “Sure, uh, thanks. Come in.”

  Behind Skip were Rick and Perry. Their large frames were even bulkier because of all the sweatshirts and sweaters they were wearing against the cold.

  “We were out of the little marshmallows, but I found this big one in the back of the drawer.” Skip held out the cup so that I could see a large, dented marshmallow floating on top of the full mug like a glacier on a chocolate sea. “It’s kind of stale, but I figure it won’t matter when it melts.”

  I wondered in what year the old, rock-hard marshmallow was going to do that.

  “Go on, drink up,” Skip urged.

  I tried, but when I did, the huge marshmallow kept bumping my nose, so I could manage only a sip. “Thanks,” I said.

  “It’s so cold that I thought you might like an extra blanket
,” Rick said as he deposited one at the foot of my bed. It had originally been decorated with the logo and colors of his favorite team, but over the years Mom had repaired it so often that there wasn’t much left of the original blanket. It looked more like a patchwork quilt that had been handed down through generations.

  Perry’s hands were jammed in his pockets and he looked miserable. “I just wanted to tell you again that I’m really sorry.”

  I had to let him know that I wasn’t holding any grudges. With my free hand, I opened the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out a deck of cards.

  “You might have beaten me at the coin toss, but I bet your luck doesn’t hold up at cards,” I said.

  He grinned. “Hearts?”

  Setting down the cup, I nodded and began to shuffle the cards. “Merciless Mia is going to have you weeping and gnashing your teeth in no time.” I jerked my head at Skip and Rick. “All three of you.”

  Despite my bragging, my head wasn’t really into playing. Besides, I wound up getting the queen of spades. The aim of the game is to get as few points as possible, which means avoiding the hearts, each of which counts for one point, and the queen of spades, which equals all the hearts packed together. So now that I was stuck with her, I already had a whopping thirteen points. Unless…I glanced at my brothers.

  Their foreheads were wrinkled as they each worked out the strategy for the cards in their hands. My heart started to race as a new thought bubbled up in my mind.

  It requires a lot of luck and skill, but if you take all the hearts cards, along with the queen of spades, you can pull off a stunt that’s called “shooting the moon.” Then you can choose to deduct twenty-six points from your score or give each of your opponents twenty-six points instead.

  I’d only managed to do that a couple of times against my cutthroat brothers, but hey, as my family always says, no guts, no glory, right?

  Slyly, I pretended to be disgusted each time they dumped more hearts on me. When they finally understood what I was up to, it was too late. With growing excitement, I drew all the other hearts from them. It was with great satisfaction that I wrote a 26 under each of their names.