Love, Teresa
A Jane & Lisbon Story
By Brown Eyes Parker
Author's Note:
I wasn't going to write this but it's been in my mind for a couple of weeks now. So, I decided to type it up and see what kind of reception it got. It was inspired by the novel "Love, Rosie" written by Cecelia Ahern and then a little bit by "One Day". But this will have a much happier ending, I promise. You don't need to read the books or see the movie to know what's going on. Hope you'll stay a while.
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all.
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Chapter 1
Florida
Dear Teresa,
My name is Patrick Jane, I'm in the sixth grade and I drew your name from a hat when we were picking pen pals. I'm going to be completely honest with you and tell you that I didn't really want to be pen pals with a girl and especially not with a girl in the third grade. But it is what it is, so I guess I should do my best and try to forge a friendship with you.
Like I said, my name is Patrick and I'm in the seventh grade, I'm twelve-years-old. I'm an unusually smart for my age. My likes include history, classical music, classic cars, and reading. I dislike other children, math, sports and pop music. I live with my dad in a trailer park, I'm an only child (I think) and I've never met my mother.. I think. We don't have any pets, but I am trying to persuade my father to get me a dog.
In the summertime, we travel all over the united states with my dad's old carnival. One day, I might even have my own show but only if my father can square things away with the owner.
Tell me about yourself.
Patrick
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Patrick Jane read over the letter one more time and nodded in satisfaction. It was a good letter, he decided. Much better than any of the letters that his classmates would be writing to their pen pals in Teresa Lisbon's fourth grade class. He doodled an elephant in the margin and then folded the lined paper in a neat square before sticking it into the envelope his teacher had given to him.
"Miss Perkins," he said, forgetting to raise his hand again. "I finished writing my letter to Teresa."
"Patrick," Miss Perkins said, looking at him with gentle sternness. "What have I told you about raising your hand?"
"Oh, right!" Patrick replied, sticking his hand up in the air.
"Yes Patrick?"
"I finished writing my letter to my pen pal, Miss Perkins."
"You may come and put it in the envelope then," Miss Perkins told him. "And then you might as well get an early start on your homework."
"Yes Miss Perkins," Jane answered, hopping up from his seat and going up to the front of the room, he jammed his letter into the larger envelope on Miss Perkins desk and then sauntered back to his desk, ignoring the looks from the other students as he did.
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Chicago
Teresa Lisbon's friend Stella Hodge was chatting incessantly about their new pen pal assignment. She was excited because they were writing students that were three grades ahead of them. She sighed and buried her nose in her Trixie Belden mystery in an attempt to tune out Stella.
But her pretty blonde friend was persistent and not easily ignored.
"Reese," she whined, pushing the book down. "Stop ignoring me!"
Teresa sighed and lowered her book. "Sorry."
"Aren't you at least a little bit excited about our new assignment?" Stella asked.
"They're just seventh graders," Teresa answered.
"They're older than us," Stella reminded her as she turned to the bus window and applied a thin layer of glitter lip gloss.
Teresa sighed and opened her book again. "We'll be in seventh grade soon enough. Besides, it isn't like we'll ever get to meet our pen pals; they live a thousand miles away from us. It's just for this grade. When we're in fifth grade this assignment isn't even going to matter."
Stella wrinkled her nose and screwed her tube of lip gloss shut. "Geez."
"What?" Teresa asked.
"You are such a grown up," Stella replied.
Teresa frowned. "Are you making fun of me?"
Stella rolled her eyes. "Yes. Being grown up is the worst thing ever!"
"Weren't you just excited because we're writing letters to seventh graders?" Teresa asked, feeling the need to point out her inconsistencies.
"That's a different kind of older," Stella answered haughtily. "You're the kind of grown up that says no all the time and is so practical, you don't even think about having fun."
"I have fun!" Teresa insisted.
"Yeah, reading your silly books and doing homework."
"I have more fun that that!"
"Doing what? Watching the Cosby Show?"
"You like the Cosby Show just as much as everybody else does in our class," Teresa answered. "You're confusing me today."
The bus pulled to a stop before Stella got a chance to reply. The blonde stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow," Stella said, waving at her.
"See you tomorrow," Teresa parroted, thankful for some peace and quiet after fifteen minutes of unfiltered conversation.
As the school bus pulled away and she watched her designer-label clad friend go into her equally expensive house, Teresa took a moment to reflect why they were even friends. They were as different as night and day. She tugged on one of her dark braids and studied her red Converse high tops as she smoothed her hands down her denim overalls.
She decided not to think about it. The next morning, it would be like their spat hadn't happened at all. Stella would pretend it hadn't even happened and they would be best friends again. That was until Teresa did something to irk the other girl, again.
She shook her head and picked up where she had left off in her book.
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A few days later, Teresa was chewing on the end of her pencil and trying to figure out what to write to her new pen pal. His letter to her had been short and to the point, she wanted to do the same thing. She didn't want to overwhelm him with too much information. As it was, he had made it clear that he didn't really want to write a third grade, never mind a girl. She closed her lips on the end of her pencil and sucked on it thoughtfully, twirling the end of one of her braids with her free hand.
She looked over at Stella, who was still pouring over her letter and then back down at her own sheet of paper. Since this Patrick Jane had told her a little bit about himself, she decided to return the favor. She dated the top of the page and then in painstakingly neat penmanship, she began to write.
Dear Patrick,
I'm sorry you didn't particularly want to write a girl. I guess fate had different ideas though. I will try to make this as painless as possible for you. You know my name is Teresa and that I'm in the fourth grade. I'm almost ten-years-old. I have three brothers; the baby was born two weeks before school started. I have one cousin on the way; my aunt says the baby will be a girl. If it is, they're going to name her Kate.
I live in a brownstone in the heart of Chicago.
I like ice cream, pizza, reading, coffee, baseball, classic rock, dogs, and the Cosby Show, classical music is okay sometimes. My favorite piece is Bolero; I saw it performed at the symphony for my birthday last year. I dislike whiny brothers, other kids, long masses and ballet. But my mother makes me take it. My father is the chief fireman. One day I hope to be a homicide detective.
In the summertime I usually go and visit my grandparents. My grandfather taught me how to dance to Frank Sinatra this past summer. He loves Frank Sinatra.
What about you? Do you ever see your grandparents? What's your favorite book? Your favorite color? Do you like the Cosby Show? Do you even ever watch TV?
I'm looking forward to your reply!
Sincerely yours,
Teresa Lisbon
P.S
Thank you for the drawing of the elephant, I really enjoyed it. You draw really well.
Satisfied with her response, she added one of her favorite stickers for decoration and then folded the letter into fourths before tucking it into the envelope her teacher had given her. She licked the seal and raised her hand.
"Mr. Andrews, I've finished writing my letter."
"Very good," Mr. Andrews said. "You can come and give it to me for later and then get started on your homework or do some reading."
Teresa nodded; she would start on her homework. It would give her time to play a round of catch with her father later on or at least finish the Trixie Belden book she was still working on.
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"Can I read your letter?" Stella asked on the bus ride home.
"I left it in my desk, Teresa answered.
"Can I read it tomorrow during recess then?"
"Why?" Teresa asked, folding her arms across her chest and arching an eyebrow.
"Come on!" Stella coaxed, smiling prettily at her. "I'll let you read mine if you let me read yours."
"I would rather not; Teresa said primly as she opened her book and started to read.
"Come on, everybody else is doing it!"
"Well, I'm not everybody else. Am I?" Teresa answered, not looking up from her book.
"Are you afraid I have a better pen pal than you do?" Stella asked her tone was laced with the playground superiority that Teresa hated.
It was actually the exact opposite, Teresa was afraid that Stella would think she had a better pen pal than her, then she'd put up a huge fuss and try to get her to trade with her. It had happened on countless occasions and she was sick of giving in to her friend's tantrums and demands.
"It isn't that at all," she finally answered. "I just don't want to show you the letter I got."
"Well, don't expect me to share my letter with you!" Stella snapped.
"Don't worry," Teresa said, sighing. "I wasn't even planning on asking."
Stella fell into silence but Teresa got the feeling that her best friend wasn't about to drop the subject. It didn't matter though, for the first time in her young life, Teresa Lisbon decided she wasn't going to share something.
Except maybe with her mother.
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Florida
When Patrick had finished reading his reply from Teresa, he decided that maybe having a girl as a pen pal wouldn't be so bad. She was a girl of few words, short and to the point. And he could tell from her style of writing that she was very practical for her age.
It wasn't going to be very bad at all he decided as he pulled out some paper from his folder and started working on his reply to her.
Dear Teresa,
I don't have any grandparents that I know of. Since I never knew my mother, I never got to meet her parents (I assume she has them though because everybody who is born does) and my father says his parents died when he was a teenager. I don't know if I believe him though because he hasn't always been honest with me.
I do have sort of stand-in grandparents. They live two trailers down from us. Their names are Ethel and Fred, like in I Love Lucy. Sometimes after school, I'll go to their house until my father gets home. Ethel makes brownies and serves them right from the oven with cold glasses of milk and Fred plays old records and dances with Ethel like they're the only two people in the world. I do my homework to It's Been a Long, Long Time.
Ethel and Fred have one son named George, but he is married and lives in Europe with his Vietnamese wife, Bich but he calls her Jade because that's what her name means in her language. They met during the war and he fell madly in love with her. They came and visited for the summer. The four of them are like the family that I never had.
My favorite book is the Little Prince, it might look like a kid's book but it really isn't. It's about figuring out truths about life and how to live. I quite enjoyed Peter Pan and the Adventures of Tom Sawyer too.
My favorite color is blue because it's the color of the ocean. I love the ocean. I've been surfing ever since I could stand up. One day, I'm going to have a house on the beach.
I do watch TV; the Cosby Show is pretty good. My dad doesn't like it though, so I don't watch it that much. He has issues with black people being successful. I am not like him though, my best friend is named Eddie Miller and he's a black boy.
He's the only kid I like, right now. I think I'm going to like you too though.
Do you have any favorite books? Any best friends? What's your favorite color?
Sincerely,
Patrick
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Chicago
Since they had gone on a field trip the day their letters had come, Mr. Andrews let them write their replies at home as part of their homework. Teresa saved this assignment for last; she waited until she had finished her math to even read his letter.
"I've never seen you smile this wide because of this homework," Siobhan Lisbon said as she added Guinness beer to her Irish beef stew. "Is this about the young boy you were telling me about? Your new pen pal?"
"Yeah." Teresa answered.
"Why don't you save writing your reply for later and come help me with dinner? You can tell me more about your new friend," Siobhan said as she put the Stranger on the record player.
"I don't know much about him," Teresa told her as she put on the mini-apron her grandmother had given her for Christmas and pulled a chair up to the counter.
"That's okay," Siobhan answered. "Tell me what you know about him."
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Dear Patrick,
Wow. And people say I'm like a grown up! You're just as much as a grown up as I am though. I've never read the Little Prince, although I've seen it at the library. I have a habit of finding books that have collected dust because they haven't been checked out in a long time, so I think I'm going to have to read the Little Prince next. My favorite book is the Magician's Nephew by C.S Lewis. My dad read gave it to me last year and I've reread it to the point of wearing it out. Mom says that she'll get me a new copy if I get a good grade on my first test next week.
My favorite color is green. It is the color of mine and my mother's eyes and the leaves when spring finally arrives after a long winter. It is the color of Christmas trees and my favorite holiday is Christmas. It is the color of the four leaf clovers I am always searching for and the ivy that decorates our church. It is the color of Ireland, my mother's and one of the color's in the Portuguese flag. . . my father's family is Portuguese. And my father says where we have come from, the people who have come before us are some of the most important things in history. So, my favorite color is green.
My best friend is a girl named Stella. Her father owns a chain of local coffee shops; she is one of the richest girls in school. Except my mom says that I am not supposed to talk about her money because it's impolite. I don't know why though because Stella talks about it often enough. I do not know why we are friends really; we don't have anything in common except our birthdays. I don't want to be mean to her either, I may be a kid but I can tell there is something missing from her life. Something I have and that she doesn't even though she has the more expensive version of everything I have.
I am glad you have Ethel and Fred. Everybody needs family even if it is people that don't have the same blood type or name as you.
I think I'm going to like you too.
Sincerely,
Teresa
TBC. . .
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Author's Note II:
Well, there's the first chapter. I hope you'll tell me what you think. If you didn't like it, I have two other story ideas in the back of my mind. Leave a review in the box below if you'd like to see more or not. This is completely up to my readers.
See you soon.
Love,
Holly, 8/3/2014_