P.S. Longer Letter Later, page 9
Well, we’ve been here at DEER RUN for almost three weeks. Here are some of the pros and cons about it:
PROS CONS
We can afford it. It isn’t very attractive.
I like having other people around. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a fishbowl.
Two blocks from library Across the street from a row of gas stations
Four blocks from Dunkin’ Donuts Four blocks from Fred’s Fish Fry
Six blocks from Chuck E. Cheez (Emma’s pro) Six blocks from Chuck E. Cheez (my con)
Nine kids from our school live here. One of them is Karen Frank’s best friend.
We live on the first floor, so we have a little garden. Mom worries about our safety.
We’re pretty much unpacked now. We’re crowded, but it isn’t too bad.
Oh, Tara. We still haven’t heard from my father. No one has. Mom wants to file a missing person’s report with the police, but the thing is, Dad left voluntarily. I mean, he told us he needed to be alone for a while. It isn’t as if he called from the office and said, “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” and then never showed up and his car was located in a parking lot, with blood everywhere. He said he was leaving and he left. He just hasn’t been in touch like he said he would be. So we’re waiting, but I’m not sure for what. A phone call? A letter? Until my uncle says, “Okay, now we should go to the police”? Until three years pass and Mom meets someone nice and wants to marry him, but she can’t because she isn’t divorced from Dad, so she has to do something about finding him?
I’m mad at my father for putting Mom in this position when she has so many other things to do right now. Like she needs this too? She’s trying to juggle her new job, Emma’s day care, our new apartment, a whole new life — and do it all by herself. I know that lots of single moms do this, but my mother at least needs a little time to get used to it. I think things will be better when we get to know more people at DEER RUN, and Mom can share carpooling with other parents or whatever. Right now, for instance, she spends her lunch hour dashing across town to pick up Emma at Miss Fine’s and drive her to the day care center for the afternoon. Then Mom spends the weekends cleaning and running errands. (She decided to devote evenings to Emma and me, even though it’s nobody’s best time. Mom and Emma come home at 6:00 every night, exhausted, but we do have those few hours together.)
I help out, of course. I get home first every day, and I’m in charge of grocery shopping and making dinner. I’m learning to cook, Tara! Guess what. It’s kind of fun. I like it. Mom likes that I do these things, but she doesn’t demand it. And she knows that starting next week I won’t get home until 5:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She says we’ll just keep things in the freezer — casseroles and stews — that we can thaw out in the microwave for quick suppers those nights.
Why won’t I get home until 5:00? Because I will have poetry journal meetings on those afternoons. The poetry journal really is going to happen, and I really am going to be the student editor!!!! I CANNOT WAIT!!!! I will tell you about it in my next letter.
Write soon, okay?
Love,
April 26
Dear Barb and Luke,
CONGRATULATIONS!! Tara told me about the baby (but as you know she doesn’t want to talk about it, so I have to write b _ _ _ in her letters). But I think the news is great. Isn’t it wonderful to have something like that to look forward to? A baby! A brand-new BABY! Are you thinking of names yet? I kind of hope the baby is another girl. You could name her Mary. It’s plain, but it’s one of my favorites. Or what about Emily, Allison, Paige, Grace, or Anna? Of course, a boy would be fine too. Michael is a nice name.
Anyway, congratulations! I hope I get to see the baby one day.
Love,
P.S. I guess Tara has told you all my news. Except for not knowing about my father, things are pretty much better now.
April 30
Dear Elizabeth,
I was just looking at the date on this letter.
It’s the end of April.
Who would have thought that so much would be happening when we started writing to each other at the beginning of the school year? (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but I’m three inches taller … two shoe sizes bigger … and my bra size is bigger too…. Now I actually have a reason to wear a bra. And that’s just the physical stuff!!!!!!!!!!!)
When I looked at the date, I thought about that song — you know, April showers bring May flowers. I know that probably sounds “goopy,” but maybe it’s true. Now you’re editor of the poetry journal and two blocks from the library (remember how we used to go there every weekend and pick out our weekly books?) and four blocks from Dunkin’ Donuts. (Yum. Remember how we used to go there after the library? … You used to get the whole-wheat ones and I used to get the ones filled with custard and covered with vanilla icing and multicolored sprinkles…. I really miss doing that.)
About the “con” stuff in your letter…. I’m sorry that the place isn’t very attractive…. It scares me that your mom is worried about your safety. (Please don’t think I’m overdramatic for saying that.) As for being six blocks from Chuck E. Cheez … I’m with Emma on that one. That would definitely be one of my “pros.” (Please say hello to Emma for me. Tell her I miss her and that if I still lived there I would love to go the “The Chuckster’s” with her and jump up and down in that little cage with all the balls.)
I’m really sorry that you haven’t heard from your father.
I think it’s great that you’re learning to cook. If you want, I can send you some of the recipes I’ve used…. Remember the marshmallow meat loaf?????!!!!! You probably don’t want that recipe!!!
I left your letter to Barbara and Lucas on the table. They probably got it, since it’s not there anymore.
Well, that’s it for now. Gotta go.
Much love,
April 30
My dear Elizabeth,
Yes … Tara Starr has told us all of your news. (At least she did tell us before she stopped talking to us.) … but she left your letter to her on the table with the letter you sent to us. She also left a note saying that we could read it. So, I am aware of all that is happening. You and your mother are being very brave … and it sounds like you are being a wonderful helper. That’s very important to her, I am sure. She must appreciate it so much and love you so much, although she may be too exhausted to tell you. Honey, you know that you can call us collect anytime. Please do so if you need us.
As for the baby … yes. Luke and I are very excited. We very much wanted this baby … and have been trying for a while. (I hope that doesn’t embarrass you.) We had Tara when we were practically children ourselves. Now that we’re twenty-nine we feel much more qualified and ready to be parents than we did when we were seventeen.
Luke and I are trying not to be hard on Tara-Starr right now, although she’s being impossible. There were a lot of years when we weren’t very responsible. We were (I hope) never bad parents. We just never managed to be organized, hold down jobs, save money. Tara Starr was, as soon as she was old enough, the most responsible person in the family … keeping things in order, trying to get everything on schedule (planning and making meals), worrying about money. I’m ashamed to admit this, but it took a long time for Luke and me to grow up. Well, now we are (mostly), and it’s been hard for Tara-Starr to adjust. Just when she was getting used to her parents as grown-ups and herself as “the kid,” I got pregnant.
So Tara Starr is angry and confused. Luke and I understand why, and we’re sorry that it wasn’t easier for her … but we have lives too … and we want to have this baby.
I hope this helps you to understand why Tara Starr is acting the way she is. Actually, she’s acknowledging that there’s going to be a baby. As she walked by the other day, she turned to me and snarled, “Why don’t you name it ‘IT’ or ‘DemonSeed.’ ” I really do like your name choices much better, Elizabeth.
Again … know that you can call us anytime day or night.
I hope that things get better … and that you find out where your father is.
Love,
P.S. Luke sends his love too.
May 7
Dear Tara*Starr,
I would love to have your recipes. Do you really have some? I mean, all written out on cards and everything? I found a kids’ cookbook at the library, but most of the “recipes” in it are for, like, celery with peanut butter. I do not call this a recipe. Under the Meats section there are two casseroles, but I’ve made each of them four times already. Mom and Emma have been very polite about this, but I know they’re thinking enough is enough. (At this point they would probably love your marshmallow meat loaf.)
As for our safety, it scares me too. I never really thought about safety when we lived in our house. We had that fancy alarm system and all the gates and locks. And if you feel safe I guess you don’t go around thinking about how safe you feel. So I didn’t think about it here at DEER RUN until I noticed Mom checking and rechecking the locks on our doors and windows (especially the sliding door to the little patio) before we go to bed at night. Everything has a lock, but Mom thinks it would be pretty easy for someone to get in our apartment anyway. (She won’t even let us sleep with the windows open right now.) Here is how Mom is going to take care of this: Since Nana and Grandpa said they could help us out every month for a year, but we only need their help until Mom gets a raise in November, Mom is going to ask if they could buy us a simple alarm system with the rest of the money. I’m sure they’ll say yes. Then we’ll all feel better.
Anyway … here is the big news. The poetry journal is underway. Mrs. Jackson posted signs about it around school, and six kids besides me have joined. They are Howie Besser, Nancy Jordan, Fiona Hancock, Evan Werner, Sandra Rossner, and (you won’t believe this) Susie Maldrey. And yes, Susie does live at DEER RUN. So does Howie. Susie has a little brother who’s Emma’s age, so Mom might have a car-pooling buddy pretty soon.) After the very first journal meeting Susie and Howie and I walked home together. We walked home together after the second meeting, too, and then we started walking to and from school every day! Susie is really nice. So is Howie. Howie’s mother died last year, so he and his father are on their own. His father owns one of the gas stations across the street. Susie’s mother has a desktop publishing business in their living room, and her father works at the library. (Isn’t that cool? Imagine working at the library.)
Anyway, everyone on my staff (Mrs. Jackson lets me call the other kids “my staff,” even though technically we are all her staff) has been assigned a job and we’ve come up with a title for the journal. It’s Silhouette. Like that poem by Langston Hughes? A very disturbing poem, but it’s Nancy’s favorite, and Langston Hughes is currently my favorite poet (do you know “Mother to Son”?), so we all voted for Silhouette. We will put out one edition at the end of the year and then get back to work in the fall. Mrs. Jackson wants to put out three volumes next year, but I think we can do four.
Okay. I better go. Howie and Susie are coming over in a few minutes.
Love,
P.S. I got Barb’s letter too, which was very nice. Are you talking to her yet? If you are, please thank her for me. I’ll try to write her again soon.
P.P.S. Emma misses you too.
P.P.P.S. I think my May flower time has come, just like you said. I like that thought.
P.P.P.P.S. No word on my father, though.
May 13
Dear Elizabeth,
Of course I’ll share my recipes with you. The marshmallow meat loaf was just for fun … kind of a goof … but it actually tasted pretty good. Luke ate two pieces. (Whoops … I forgot … Now he’s Lucas … but this happened in the good old days when I wasn’t mad at him and I called him Luke.) I didn’t write down the recipes, but I remember them, and as soon as I have a chance, I’ll send them to you. They’re easy to make and not expensive. (I know. I know. Send them ASAP!!!!!!) One of them is Rosemary Chicken. (Doesn’t that sound like someone who’s afraid and won’t do things? … But it’s not. And it’s really good.) I also have a great macaroni and cheese dish and this thing that I invented called Chicken Bombay. (I don’t remember. Do you like curry? You’ve got to like curry A LOT for this to work.) Remember my mashed potatoes and Reese’s Pieces dish? I don’t suppose that’s one that you would like. (But it’s easy … and yummy. Maybe you could substitute granola for the Reese’s Pieces.)
It’s so wonderful that you have friends at Deer Run. (I am still worried about your safety. Maybe they should rename the place Run, Dear! … Was it bad to make a joke like that about it? Sometimes I can’t help it that stuff like that just pops into my brain … but I’m trying to learn where and when to say it out loud … and to whom.) Anyway, I am sooooooo glad that you have friends there, ones who are also on your “staff.” Susie is really nice … and so is Howie. (He’s also soooooooo cute. Hmm.)
Elizabeth … thanks for not saying much in your letters about the baby. I really appreciate that. I just don’t want to deal with it now.
There’s a lot of stuff that I want to ask, to say about your father, but I’m trying not to. I figure that if you are being sooooo good about not talking about the baby (did you ever think about the fact that “baby” is a four-letter word?), then I won’t push you to discuss your innermost feelings about your father and what he’s done. I do wish that you knew where he was.
Guess what. Everyone here really likes my column in the school paper. (Well, almost everyone … one of the teachers told me that I am “irreverent.” Look it up in the dictionary and tell me if you agree. Tee-hee.) I don’t know what Barbara and Lucas think because I haven’t shown them the newspaper.
It’s great that you’re earning some extra money. I wish I could do that … especially now that I’m not asking the Charents for anything. But I don’t want to baby-sit anymore.
Anyway, write back soon. I really want to know what’s happening.
Love,
May 20
Dear Tara*Starr,
Okay, you asked for it! You said you wanted to know what’s happening, and suddenly a lot is happening again.
Although I would like to be all perky and tell you about the good stuff (which is also exciting) first, I can’t deny that the good stuff is not really the most dramatic or important stuff. So I’ll save the cheerful things for later and start off by telling you about … my father.
Can you believe it? He finally called. It was so weird. He called on the very day — the very day — that I had stopped automatically wondering every time the phone rang if the caller might be Dad. So when the phone rang at about 8:00 tonight (Sunday) I was completely unprepared to hear my father’s voice. In fact, I was expecting to hear Susie’s, because I had just called her and she was on the other line and had said she would call me right back.
Of course, I recognized Dad’s voice right away. He said, “Elizabeth? Hi, it’s me, Dad.” And I just said, “I know.” I’m sure he was waiting for a big gushy conversation, but the second I heard his voice I felt like my brain had turned to steel. So instead of saying, “Where are you? I’ve missed you! When are you coming home? Are you okay?” I just said stiffly, “Hold on, I’ll get my mother.” (I’m mad at him, Tara. Really mad at him. It may not seem that way, but I am. How could I not be mad at him?)
I set the phone down on the kitchen table and ran to get Mom. Since she and Emma were both tired, they were plunked down in the living room, watching The Little Mermaid together. “Mom,” I whispered loudly, “come here.” Emma didn’t take her eyes off the screen (or her thumb out of her mouth) when Mom left the room.
When we were in the kitchen I said, “Mom, Dad is on the phone.” And then, Tara, I did something — well, two things — I know you would be proud of. First I eavesdropped on Mom’s end of the conversation from outside the kitchen door, and then I actually picked up the extension in the hallway and listened to the rest of the conversation.
You know that saying about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good? Well, I guess it’s true. My father is going to leave us. He wants to get a separation from Mom. I’m not sure where he’s been all this time (I missed that part of the conversation, and I haven’t pressed Mom for details because she’s pretty upset), but he’s coming by on Saturday to pick up his stuff. At least he wants to see us before he goes. Where is he going? He didn’t really say, but I got the feeling he was leaving town. When I see him on Saturday I am going to make him tell us where he’s going. Give us an address and a phone number. I have a LOT of questions for him too. I’m going to list them on a sheet of paper, sit across from him in the living room, ask every single one, and make him answer every single one before he leaves.
So that’s the news about my father.
Other news is that Silhouette is coming along really well. We put up signs about it all over school, and kids have already started sending us poems. I hadn’t expected so many, but I guess Mrs. Jackson had. She told us the hardest part of putting together the journal will be deciding which poems are not going to be in it. I’m not going to think about that right now. There’s an awful lot of other stuff to do anyway. For starters, we need to find a couple of people to do some artwork for the journal. Plus, I’m writing a few poems myself.
School is a lot more fun now that I’m hanging out with Howie and Susie. We eat lunch together most days. And then there are the journal meetings. I feel like I’ve been asleep since last fall and I’m just waking up.
Emma has a friend here at DEER RUN. He’s Susie’s brother Matt. They played together last Sunday and invented a game in which they were cars at a gas station. It went on forever and I didn’t see any point to it, but they had a lot of fun.
Tara, you mentioned the baby in your last letter. Is it okay for me to bring up the subject now? I won’t if you don’t want me to. Just let me know.
