Happy Birthday, Sophie Hartley Page 3

  Mrs. Hartley freed Maura, and they continued to the kitchen. “Let’s eat lunch,” she said. “I’ll tell Nora she needs to vacuum your room before she comes down. She’s taken every cleaning tool in the house. We probably won’t see her until dinner.”

  “Good,” said Sophie. She wasn’t ready to see the new, happy Nora yet. The happy Nora who finally had her own space and didn’t miss her horrible little sister one bit.

  When they got to the kitchen, Maura began climbing her highchair as if it were a tree. Mrs. Hartley opened a cabinet and took out some glasses. “You know Nora—everything has to be perfect,” she said. “Pour some milk in Maura’s cup, that’s a good girl, and take the plate of sandwiches out of the refrigerator.”

  “She’s not going to let anyone wear shoes in her room,” Sophie said.

  “Good luck to her,” said Mrs. Hartley. “Just think,” she went on when they were sitting at the table, with Maura safely tucked in her chair. “You can spread your artwork on your bedroom floor and no one will trample it. With a coat of paint, the room will look brand-new.”

  “Can I paint it any color I want?”

  “I don’t know about ‘any,’” her mother said evasively. “I seem to remember an argument between you and Nora about purple.”

  “Nora used to like color. Now she likes everything white. White and clean and perfect.”

  “She’s growing up,” said Mrs. Hartley. “Now you don’t have to conform to her standards. See? The benefits are already starting.”

  It was clear her mother’s sympathy was fading. “It’s so empty,” Sophie said, giving it one last try. “A TV would make it feel less lonely.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” her mother said. “You’ll be amazed at how quickly you can’t imagine living without all that wonderful space.”

  Sophie had already been thinking about space. Specifically, about the empty space where Nora’s desk had stood.

  “It does feel bigger,” she said, trying to sound casual. “There might even be room for a cage.”

  “Any more talk about cages,” her mother said with a pleasant smile, “and I might decide there’s enough room for a crib.”

  “Now, Maura…” Sophie said.

  Her mother had run out to the grocery store and asked Sophie to give Maura dessert and wipe her face before letting her out of her highchair. It was too good a teaching opportunity to pass up.

  “Would you like a cookie?” Sophie said, waving one back and forth enticingly in front of her sister.

  “Mawa cookie,” Maura said. She held out her fat little hand.

  Sophie sat back. “First you have to say ‘please,’” she said primly. “When you want someone to give you something, you say ‘please.’ “

  “Mawa cookie,” Maura said, louder this time.

  “Say please.”

  “Cookie, cookie, cookie!” Maura shouted, drumming her heels against the chair.

  Sophie put the cookie in her lap. “I’m not giving it to you until you ask politely.”

  Maura continued to squawk, but Sophie refused to budge. All it took was a firm hand and determination. Maybe she’d teach Maura how to tie her shoes after this. Then how to put her dishes in the dishwasher so the rest of them could stop having to clean up after her.

  That lesson couldn’t come a minute too soon.

  It was hard to think with Maura making such a racket, but the more Sophie did, the better her idea seemed. She could train other babies, too, and charge money. Think of all the grateful brothers and sisters who’d be willing to pay.

  Of course, if every baby was as noisy as Maura, Sophie would have to invest in a pair of earplugs first. Maura wasn’t loud enough, however, to drown out the sound of the mudroom door opening.

  Sophie sat forward and thrust the cookie into Maura’s hands. Maura stopped yelling immediately.

  “Where’d I leave my list?” their mother said as she hurried back into the kitchen. “Oh, there it is.” She snatched it off the counter and shook it in the air. “If I end up at the grocery store without this thing one more time, I’m going to scream.”

  “Maura wanted a cookie, so I gave her one,” Sophie told her.

  “That was nice of you.” Mrs. Hartley smiled at Maura. “What do you say to Sophie, Maura?”

  “Pease,” Maura said sweetly. “Sank you.”

  It was mean of her mother, threatening to move Maura’s crib into her room just because Sophie had made the slightest suggestion about a pet. Sophie wasn’t going to let it stop her. She tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and sat at her desk.

  That nice Dr. Pimm who’d raised Kiki in the zoo was sure to write back when she heard how much Sophie loved gorillas and what good care she planned on giving hers.

  Her mother would be impressed, too, by how much Sophie knew about what snack foods gorillas ate and what they did in their spare time. Most important, Dr. Pimm could tell her whether the baby gorilla could sleep in a twin bed without falling out.

  Sophie had lifted her mattress to hide the letter until she could mail it, when she stopped. Wait a minute! She didn’t have to hide things anymore. It was her own room.

  Sophie put it on her desk, in plain sight. This new arrangement might turn out to have its benefits after all. She heard voices on the stairs and quickly sprawled on her bed so whoever it was would see how relaxed she was now that she finally had the room to herself.

  It was Nora.

  She sailed past her old room without as much as a glance in Sophie’s direction, laughing and talking with two of her friends who were spending the night so they could practice their cheerleading jumps.

  Her friends didn’t look at Sophie, either. She heard them dutifully dump their shoes into the wicker basket Nora had put in the hall outside the attic door, then troop up the stairs to the attic. When one of them slammed the door, as if to alert someone who might be listening that they weren’t allowed to follow, Sophie sat up.

  The nerve of them, slamming the door at her like that!

  “I heard that, Nora!” Sophie shouted. She was used to such rude treatment from Nora, but from total strangers in her own house?

  Sophie went downstairs and found the rest of the family watching TV. John and Mr. Hartley were so engrossed in their movie, they didn’t even look at her while she complained. Thad said, “Nora who?” before giving her a quick glance and adding, “That’s a joke, Sophie. Lighten up.”

  “You used to complain she paid you too much attention,” Mrs. Hartley said, patting the couch next to her. “Sit with us and watch the movie.”

  Sophie didn’t want to watch the movie. If Thad and John and her father liked it, it was all about shooting and explosions. She stomped back up to her room and moved things around for a while to make the room feel more like hers, but it still felt deserted.

  She felt a little better after she painted one of the window frames with green and blue and yellow and—too bad for you, Nora!—purple dots. Doing art always made her feel better. She planned on painting the other window frame with different-colored stripes next.

  Then, who knew? Animals all over her dresser! The closet door bright yellow! No, more purple! Two coats of purple.

  It would serve them right.

  Sophie cheered up, thinking about the shocked look that would be on her mother’s and Nora’s faces when they saw it. Then she started rearranging her belongings and soon felt gloomy again. Her clothes looked limp and lonely in the almost-empty closet. Her underwear slid around in the almost-empty drawer.

  There were no two ways about it: her room looked empty. Even with her in it.

  Sophie heard faint music over her head, accompanied by laughter and an occasional thump when someone jumped. She thought about getting a broom and using the handle to thump on the ceiling, but that would only give Nora the satisfaction of knowing Sophie was paying attention to them.

  She finally gave up and got into bed. With the door closed and the lights off, the room f
elt as huge and empty as a cave. Sophie couldn’t sleep with her door open, either, though it might help her feel less lonely. When they came down to use the bathroom, Nora and her friends would think she was a baby.

  Between the sounds from the attic and Sophie’s active brain, she couldn’t fall asleep. She thought about the times when Nora had spent the night at a friend’s house, or last summer, when Nora had gone to cheerleading camp for a week.

  It had been fun, having the room to herself then. She’d known Nora was coming back.

  This time, it was for good.

  No more having to yell at Nora to make her turn off her light. No more annoying snuffles from Nora’s side of the room when she had a cold. No more Nora saying, “Shut up and go to sleep!” when Sophie talked about one of her interesting ideas.

  She was going to be alone for the rest of her life with only a tiny sliver of light under her door for company.

  “Good night, Patsy,” Sophie said, testing to see how it felt.

  Even Patsy ignored her.

  Sighing heavily, Sophie rolled over onto her side, her back to the wall so nothing could sneak up on her. Her only cheerful thought came right before she fell asleep.

  She’d draw a picture of Nora and write “Unprotected victim in attic” across the bottom and stick it on Nora’s door.

  Even Nora would have a hard time trying to make a monster take off his shoes before he came up.

  FIVE

  When Sophie woke up the next morning, she made two decisions: she was not going to show any interest in Nora’s room before Nora invited her to see it. Then, as soon as Nora did, Sophie was going to tell her she was too busy.

  The trouble was, Nora didn’t invite her.

  She and her friends listened to music in the attic until lunchtime. Then they walked to the field behind the middle school to practice their cheers. Sophie played a halfhearted game of cards with John in the family room while her parents read the Sunday papers, waiting for Nora to get back.

  When she heard Nora in the mudroom, Sophie grabbed a book and threw herself on the couch so Nora would see how busy she was. Nora didn’t stop long enough to notice.

  She breezed past the family room, called, ‘Another new poster for my room!” as she waved a poster-size roll happily in the air, and ran upstairs.

  “Sophie, why don’t you go with her?” said Mrs. Hartley. “You’re the only person who hasn’t seen her room.”

  “I’m too busy,” said Sophie.

  “Reading a book that’s upside down must be very time-consuming,” Mr. Hartley said.

  Sophie took a closer look and threw the book on the table. It was a good thing Nora hadn’t noticed.

  Her parents were taking Maura and John to the park for ice cream. They invited Sophie to come, but she wanted to stay home and ignore Nora. Besides, Alice had been at the store with her mother when Sophie called earlier to see if Alice wanted to do something.

  Sophie was waiting for her to call back.

  The longer she waited, the grouchier she got. When the phone finally rang, she ran to it, picked it up, and shouted, “What took you so long?”

  There was shocked silence at the other end. Then a voice said, “Is Nora there?”

  It was a boy.

  A boy for Nora. Sophie couldn’t remember a boy ever calling Nora before.

  “Hello?” the boy said. “Can I talk to Nora?”

  “Nora?” said Sophie.

  Another silence. Then, “Isn’t this where Nora Hartley lives?”

  “Oh. That Nora.” Sophie paused to let the boy speak again, but he didn’t. “Hold on,” she said, and pressed the phone against her stomach.

  Nora didn’t expect everyone to run up two flights of stairs whenever she got a phone call, did she? Too bad if she did.

  “Nora,” Sophie said calmly. “Telephone.”

  She waited for a minute before she spoke into the phone again. “She’s not here,” she reported.

  “Oh.” The boy sounded disappointed. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “Hold on.” She pressed the phone into her stomach again and waited. Then she said, “Nope.”

  “Oh.”

  This boy sure said “oh” a lot. If this was what talking to a boy on the phone was like, Sophie didn’t understand why girls got so excited about it. She stayed unhelpfully silent, waiting to see what he’d say next.

  “Well, thanks, anyway,” he said, and before Sophie could stop him, he hung up.

  “Wait!” she cried, anticipating the expression on Nora’s face. “What’s your name?”

  He was gone.

  Sophie put down the phone. Nora would be furious when she found out she’d missed a phone call from a boy. When Sophie told her she hadn’t gotten his name, Nora would be doubly furious.

  As it turned out, Nora was so excited it had been a boy, she wasn’t mad at all.

  ‘A boy? Really?” she said when she came downstairs. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I did,” said Sophie. “You didn’t hear me.”

  “I was listening to music,” Nora said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “What’d he sound like?”

  “A boy.”

  “What kind of boy?” Nora got a dreamy look on her face. “Like maybe he has shiny dark brown hair that’s almost down to his shoulders, and really, really blue eyes? And maybe he plays the saxophone in the school band?”

  Wow. She was in worse shape than Sophie had realized.

  “Never mind,” Nora said before Sophie could answer. She picked up the phone and began stabbing the buttons. “Wait until Leslie hears. And don’t listen to my phone call. Leslie? I think Ian called me. No … my little sister answered the phone.”

  “I’m not that little,” said Sophie.

  “No … I was in my room. You know I don’t.” Nora was drifting toward the stairs. “We’re probably the only family in America that doesn’t have cell phones. They should do a documentary on us…”

  “You’re not allowed to take the phone upstairs!” Sophie called.

  “You’re kidding. They did? They broke up?” A squeal. A pause. “Who dumped who? He did! Good. I do not want to get him on the rebound.”

  Was he a boy or a basketball? Sophie thought. “If something falls in the toilet and I get my arm stuck trying to get it out, I won’t be able to call 911!” she shouted.

  It was all in vain. Nora was too far gone to hear or care.

  Jenna was standing outside their classroom when Sophie got to school the next morning. Destiny Thatcher was standing next to her. Last year, Sophie, Jenna, and Alice had agreed that Destiny was a snob. This year Destiny and Jenna were on the same lacrosse team. Destiny didn’t act snobby to Jenna anymore.

  She still did to Sophie and Alice. When she spotted Sophie, Destiny turned and whispered something in Jenna’s ear. Then she looked back at Sophie. Destiny’s long dark hair was pulled back with a purple ponytail bow that matched her skirt.

  Sophie didn’t like the look on Destiny’s face. Maybe the jeans with the frayed hems and her sneakers with mismatched laces didn’t look as cool as Sophie had thought when she put them on that morning.

  “Go on,” Jenna said, nudging Destiny’s side when Sophie stopped in front of them. “Tell her.”

  “Tell me what?” said Sophie.

  “I’ve never heard of a kid having a gorilla for a pet, either,” said Destiny.

  “What’d I tell you?” Jenna said.

  “We think you’re lying,” said Destiny.

  “Not lying,” Jenna said quickly. “Making it up. You know how you are, Sophie.”

  “Sophie’s getting a gorilla?” David Holt, one of the major sound makers in their class, stopped on his way into their room and looked at Sophie with real interest. “Cool.”

  “A gorilla?” Aaron Mass echoed, coming up behind him. “Holy moly!”

  The two boys dropped their packs and started loping around, scratching their armpits and making gorilla noises. Kids
passing in the hall laughed.

  “Some people are so immature,” Destiny said. She flicked her ponytail as if she were flicking it in general. Sophie knew Destiny was flicking it at her.

  “Don’t look at me,” Sophie said. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “All right, everyone, break it up,” Mrs. Stearns called as she hurried toward them with an armload of books. “My class, inside, please. Destiny, Aaron, go to your own rooms. The bell has rung.”

  Sophie liked Mrs. Stearns. She was strict, like her name, but nice. She had been Nora’s fourth grade teacher, too. When it was time to write in their journals, Nora had written about the crazy things she and Sophie had done.

  The first time Sophie met her, Mrs. Stearns said she felt as if she and Sophie were old friends. It sounded nice, but Sophie had had the uneasy feeling ever since that Mrs. Stearns knew a lot more about her than Sophie would have liked.

  “Sophie’s getting a baby gorilla,” David told Mrs. Stearns as they filed in behind her.

  “Really?” Mrs. Stearns smiled. “If anyone could, it would be Sophie. Maybe you can bring it to class, Sophie.”

  “Ohhh, bring it to class, bring it to class,” a few girls pleaded, clapping their hands. “I want to hold it.” “Baby gorillas are so cute.”

  “Sophie can tell us all about it when she gets it,” said Mrs. Stearns. “Right now, it’s time for math.”

  They scattered to put their things away. Sophie was bent over, fishing her math book out of her desk, when a voice said, “In case you didn’t know, gorillas are quadrupedal.”

  It was Brendan Warden.

  “What?” Sophie said distractedly. The nerve of Destiny, calling her a liar! Destiny didn’t even know her!

  “I said,” Brendan repeated patiently, “gorillas are quadrupedal, which means they walk on all four feet. They also have thumbs on all four.”

  Brendan was one of the AG kids. Some of the boys called him Mr. Notebook because he carried several notebooks with him at all times. He had a different color notebook for each subject. No matter what he was talking about, he sounded like a tour guide in a museum.

  “I already know that,” Sophie said.