April Flowers Read online

  For Mamma, with all my love

  Thank you to all my family, Brenda Bowen, Nöelle Paffett-Lugassy, and Richard Tchen

  Angel Talk

  Little angel?” The Archangel of Understanding stood beneath the tree and peered up through the leaves. “I can see your feet. I know you’re there.”

  “Don’t look up,” the Little Angel of Understanding whispered loudly. “You’ll give me away.”

  “Oh.” The archangel squatted and pretended to be examining the base of the tree.

  “Is he still near?” whispered the little angel.

  The Archangel of Understanding glanced around. “I don’t see anyone. Who are you hiding from?”

  The little angel climbed down. “The Little Angel of Learning. I don’t like him.”

  “Why not? He seems nice to me.”

  “Ha. You don’t know half the things he says. He just came back from visiting the Galápagos Islands and he called the plants there ‘succulents.’ ”

  The Archangel of Understanding looked puzzled. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I’ve always liked plants.”

  “So?”

  “So he can’t call them ‘succulents,’ ” said the little angel. “That’s mean.”

  The archangel laughed. “A succulent is a certain type of plant that holds liquid. Cactuses are succulents.”

  The little angel smirked. “Why didn’t he just say that?”

  “Did you tell him you didn’t know the word?”

  “I didn’t have to. No one knows words like that. And I hate it when someone uses a word I don’t know.”

  “Little angel, you’re not being very understanding. And I need you to be the most understanding you can be now.”

  The Little Angel of Understanding’s eyes slowly widened. He smiled just as wide. “You have a task for me, don’t you?”

  “A hard one.”

  “Good. I’ve earned almost all my feathers. This task will finish it off, and I’ll finally hear the bell that announces my wings.”

  “Well, don’t congratulate yourself too fast.” The Archangel of Understanding walked ahead. “Maggie is just about to discover her problem. It won’t be easy to fix.”

  The little angel caught up quickly. “I’m ready to work my best.”

  Space

  Maggie picked up the green porcelain turtle and rubbed it with the soft cloth. When it was perfectly free of dust, she set it down and did the same to the blue glass turtle. There were twenty-two turtles in her collection, and she was cleaning all of them this morning, like she did every Saturday morning.

  There, the blue one was finished. And that was the last one.

  Maggie went to the window and opened it wide. Autumn weather was just starting. Last night had been the first night that she’d had to close her window in months. Since May, in fact. And, oh, the sugar maple in the DeLucas’ side yard had turned overnight. The leaves were bright red now.

  The sun glistened off the morning dew on the grass. It was going to be a perfect day. Maggie would call her friend Shelagh, and they could go exploring down by the creek. It would be fun to try to find frogs and turtles—real turtles—before they went into hibernation.

  “Hi.” Matthew stood in the doorway on one foot. The other foot was poised in the air, ready to step down into her room. Maggie had worked hard at training Matthew to ask permission before he came bounding in, so it was gratifying to see him standing there like that now. “Can I?”

  “Okay. What do you want?”

  Matthew jumped into the room. “A water ice.”

  Maggie laughed. “A water ice? On a cool morning?”

  “This is the last Saturday they’re serving them till next spring. Mom said I can go to the Co-Op and get one if you or Marcus will walk with me, and Marcus has already said no.”

  Maggie considered Matthew’s fat little face, which was already smeared with dirt. He’d probably been awake for hours, running around outside like a maniac, and here she was, still in her nightgown. Poor Matthew had way too much energy for his own good. “All right.”

  “Yay!”

  “After I get dressed and have breakfast.”

  “You’re the nicest sister in the world.” Matthew kissed Maggie and ran out of the room. “I’ll make you breakfast. Just wait,” he called over his shoulder.

  What awful thing would Matthew make Maggie for breakfast? But she didn’t have to eat it if she didn’t want to. She did a cartwheel on her rug. Then she got her new sneakers out of the closet.

  “Maggie?” Mom came into the room and sat on Maggie’s bed. Mom never had liked Maggie’s rules about knocking. In fact, Mom never seemed to obey anybody else’s rules. “I need your help today.”

  Maggie groaned. “Do I have to help? I already agreed to take Matthew for a water ice, and then I want to play with Shelagh.”

  “You can take Matthew first. And there’ll be time for Shelagh later. This is important. I have news.” Mom’s face was serious.

  “What is it?” asked Maggie.

  “Come here.”

  Maggie walked over to the bed.

  “Sit down beside me, won’t you?”

  Maggie sat down.

  “You know Granny’s coming to live with us, right?”

  That’s all Mom and Dad had talked about for weeks. “Of course. She’s coming on the plane tomorrow.”

  “Right. So we have to get the house set up for her today.” Mom made a little smack with her lips. “And last night Dad and I decided that the best solution is for her to be your roommate.”

  “My roommate? What’s that mean?” But the words slowly made sense to Maggie. “She’s going to share my room?” Her voice rose. “She’s going to move in here? With me?”

  “Right. So we need to bring in the extra bed and bureau and rearrange the furniture in here.”

  “With me?” said Maggie, shaking her head. “But what about the guest room? It’s just right for her.”

  “That’s what we’d been thinking. But Marcus will be twelve next week, and he can’t share a room with Matthew forever. It’s time he had his own room. So Matthew’s moving into the guest room, because it’s the smallest and he’s little, and Marcus will stay in the boys’ room alone.”

  “But then I’ll be the only one who has to share a room.”

  “You’re the only girl and you’ve had a room all to yourself for years. It’s time for you to share.”

  “But I love my room. I love having things where they belong. Granny’s got too much stuff. Whenever she comes, she sprawls all over the guest room and half the living room, too.”

  “She’s not bringing a lot. And your room has enough space for two.”

  “It’s my space! And the boys’ bedroom has even more space.”

  “Maggie,” said Mom with a rising tone. “You love Granny.”

  “I know.” Maggie did love Granny. But that didn’t mean she had to give up her privacy. She had the urge to kick something.

  “Anyway, Granny has to be in a downstairs room, and only the guest room and your bedroom are downstairs, so that’s that.”

  “I have a better idea,” said Maggie. “Granny and Matthew can share this room, and I’ll take the guest room. Matthew’s the youngest, after all. He should have to share.”

  “Matthew’s a boy.”

  “So what? He’s so little, he doesn’t care about the difference between boys and girls.”

  Mom’s eyes went steely. “But Granny does.”

  “She’s too old to care.”

  “No, she’s not. And that’s the end of the conversation, Maggie. I’m not asking you; I’m telling you. Your only choices are how we arrange the furniture.”

  “There’s no space for another bed and a
nother bureau.”

  “Hmmm. Those shelves over there will have to go.” Mom stood up and looked around the room.

  “But what about my turtle collection?”

  “You can keep it in a box. Or a drawer. . . .” Mom’s voice trailed off. “And if we move that mirror to the back of the door, the south wall will be freed up for a bureau. Yes, this will work out fine.”

  Angel Talk

  Maggie might be nice to her little brother, but boy is she selfish.” The Little Angel of Understanding stood in the corner of the bedroom and held out his arms. “Look how big this room is.”

  “Yes. There’s ample room, even with the second bed and bureau they just put in here,” said the Archangel of Understanding. “Before, when it had only Maggie’s furniture, it was positively capacious.”

  “What a yucky word: ‘capacious.’ You sound like the Little Angel of Learning.”

  “It’s a fine word. It means ‘roomy.’ ”

  “Then why don’t you just say ‘roomy’?”

  “What’s the matter with you today? You’ve been grumpy since I came to get you.”

  The little angel felt a flush of embarrassment. It was true: He’d been upset ever since his brief encounter with the Little Angel of Learning this morning. He could still hear the insult the little angel had hurled at him. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what it meant. But that wasn’t the archangel’s fault; he had no right to take it out on him. “Sorry. Anyway, this girl Maggie needs to learn how to share. Maybe the Little Angel of Generosity could help her more than I can.”

  “Sharing doesn’t seem to be her strong suit, that’s for sure,” said the archangel. “But I suspect sharing is going to be the smaller of Maggie’s problems.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maggie’s ability to understand is about to be challenged like it never has before. That’s why I called you in to help.” The archangel put his arm around the little angel’s shoulders. “This is going to be a whopper.”

  Changes

  “Granny’s here!” Matthew came running through the front door. He zipped around Maggie, grinning like crazy.

  Dad followed, with Granny holding on to his arm. “It’s an easy step,” he said softly to Granny.

  “I know the step,” Granny snapped. “It’s the same step it’s always been.” She planted her right foot in the threshold. Then she heaved herself up from the porch step with a little “humph” sound. “I can make it the rest of the way by myself.”

  Mom came forward and kissed Granny on the cheek. “Did you have a good flight?”

  “Flights are never good.” Granny shook a little, as though to rid herself of the memory.

  “Right.” Mom’s face fell.

  Granny looked hard at Mom. Then she gave a little smile that didn’t seem quite genuine. “But I guess it was about as good as a bad thing can be.”

  “I’ll get your bags and be right back.” Dad ran out to the car again.

  Maggie squeezed her hands together. It had been only a few months since she’d last seen Granny, but, oh, what a change. Mom had told her Granny had had a stroke. It was a mild one, but a stroke is serious. That’s why Granny couldn’t live alone anymore. She didn’t have the strength to do lots of things she used to do easily. But Maggie hadn’t realized her personality had changed, too. Granny used to be full of smiles. Now she seemed like an old meanie. Maggie would be sharing her bedroom with a sourpuss.

  Granny looked straight at Maggie. “Your father told me we’re roommates.”

  Maggie didn’t know what to say to that. Granny kept staring at her, and her face wasn’t happy at all.

  Maybe Granny was just hungry. Whenever Matthew acted terrible, it was because he was hungry. Maggie gave Granny a quick peck on the cheek. “Dinner’s almost ready.” She smiled hopefully.

  “All right.” Granny walked past Maggie into the dining room and sat down.

  It wasn’t exactly the response Maggie had expected. Dinner wasn’t actually completely ready yet. Oh, dear.

  “Yay!” called Matthew, hopping around the table.

  “Where’s the food?” said Granny.

  Mom jumped to attention. “Right. Dinnertime. Matthew, come help me serve. Maggie, call Marcus. He’s at Craig’s house. Tell him to get home quick.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  • • •

  Dinner was quiet. Mom and Dad asked Granny a lot of questions at first, but it became clear pretty fast that Granny wasn’t in a chatty mood. So everyone concentrated on the chicken and peas and salad.

  There was watermelon for dessert.

  “I love watermelon,” said Matthew.

  “Too many seeds,” said Granny.

  Marcus looked at Maggie. Maggie looked back wordlessly. Matthew made designs with the seeds on his plate, totally happy.

  After dinner Dad washed the dishes while everyone else cleared. Granny picked up the salad bowl to carry it into the kitchen.

  “Isn’t that too heavy for you?” asked Mom.

  Marcus took the bowl from Granny.

  Granny looked confused for a moment. Then she let her shoulders slump. “I guess you’re right. I’ll go to bed.”

  “It’s kind of early,” said Marcus. “Want to watch TV?”

  “You have homework to do, Marcus,” said Mom. “No TV for you on a Sunday night.”

  “I love TV,” shouted Matthew. “I’ll watch with you, Granny.”

  “I’m tired,” said Granny. She went straight to Maggie’s room.

  Maggie watched her go, and blinked back tears.

  Angel Talk

  The little angel gulped. “You didn’t prepare me for this. Granny’s acting terribly.”

  “You’re right,” said the Archangel of Understanding. “She’s even more grumpy than you were yesterday.”

  That’s not fair.” The little angel sniffed. “I had a reason. A big one.”

  “And you think Granny doesn’t have a reason for being grumpy?”

  “Well, sure. I can imagine how Granny feels—anyone can imagine it. Maggie’s bedroom is painted cotton candy pink. And the curtains have mermaids on them. It’s a girl’s room, not a grandmother’s room. So of course it isn’t easy for Granny to share that room. But Maggie has to share the room, too. And Maggie’s already acting good about it. Granny’s acting so bad, the whole family is in the dumps. Except Matthew.”

  “Yes. Matthew’s imperturbable.”

  The little angel frowned at the archangel. “Stop that.”

  The archangel raised his eyebrows innocently. “Stop what?”

  “You know what. You’re using fancy words just because I hate them.”

  “It was the right word, little angel. ‘Imperturbable’ means ‘unable to be disturbed.’ Matthew seems happy no matter what other people do.”

  “You’re not going to get me to like the Little Angel of Learning just by using a lot of big words like he does.”

  The Archangel of Understanding smiled. “See how well you understand me?”

  “I understand everyone.” The little angel threw back his shoulders, “At least when they use ordinary words.”

  “Really?” The archangel gave the little angel a piercing look. “Everyone? Do you understand Granny? Do you truly believe it’s the color of the bedroom and the pattern on the curtains that bother her?”

  The Little Angel of Understanding remembered the “humph” noise Granny had made when she’d climbed the step into Maggie’s house. And she remembered the sad little groan Granny had made in the middle of dinner. “Now that I think about it, I bet she’s upset about more than just sharing a bedroom.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Well, I’m going to find out what,” said the little angel.

  “Fine. Just don’t forget about Maggie in the process. She’s the one you’re here to help.”

  Cats

  It was already 8:00. Maggie had finished her homework ten minutes ago, but she was waitin
g to take her bath, because that meant going into the bedroom and facing Granny.

  Maggie went into the kitchen and ate another molasses cookie. Mom had made molasses cookies from Granny’s old recipe. They were Dad’s favorite. Granny hadn’t eaten any, though. Not a single one.

  It was 8:05. Maybe Maggie would be lucky and Granny would already be asleep. Anyway, Maggie couldn’t just eat cookies all night.

  She put her homework away in her backpack and walked quietly to her room.

  The door was shut.

  She stopped outside. Should she knock? She’d never knocked on her own door before, but now it wasn’t her own door, was it?

  Maggie cleared her throat.

  There was no answer from inside.

  Maggie cleared her throat louder.

  Still no answer.

  Oh, well. Maggie knocked.

  “Who is it?” called Granny.

  “Me. Maggie.”

  “Well, come on in. It’s your room.”

  Maggie braced herself for the sight of Granny’s clothes and makeup and perfume strewn all over every surface. She opened the door gingerly. But the room was as neat as Maggie always kept it.

  Granny sat on her bed with her legs over the side. The small lamp on the bed table cast a dim light. Her big suitcase lay open on the bed beside her. “I wasn’t sure which bed was mine. Is this okay?”

  “Yes.” Maggie went to her own bed and took her nightgown out from under her pillow. “I’m going to take a bath now. Do you need anything?”

  Granny straightened the folded edge of the sheet on her bed. “I’ll bathe in the morning.”

  “I have school in the morning. But I’ll try my best not to wake you up.”

  “That’s okay,” said Granny. “I’m used to getting up early. I have to feed my cats.” Her voice caught. “I don’t have cats anymore.”

  Maggie tried to remember Granny’s house. It was hard, because Granny always visited them; they hardly ever visited her. But Maggie conjured up the vague image of a big orange cat. “Did you have a lot of cats?”