Shout-Outs: aussiewritegirl27, I Dream Of Scotty, janesbiotch, WeLoveNeville, Guest, Jane Doe51, Pellagrina, mayzee, blueeyedmentalistfan, Dutchie, , Mareear, and Chymom
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Chapter 3
Florida
"She's cute," Eddie said, peering over Patrick's shoulder at the picture of Teresa. "I bet she'd be swell to have on your baseball team."
"You and your baseball," Patrick answered, taking in Teresa's green eyes and dark braids, there was a Boston Red Sox hat sitting askew on the top of her head and she was wearing a miniature Chicago Cubs jersey with denim shorts and Red converse high tops, she was eating an ice cream cone and laughing. She was so thin, he wanted to wrap her up and take care of her.
"She looks like she could throw a mean pitch," Eddie interjected. "Don't you think?"
Patrick shrugged.
"Wow, you're speechless! I've never seen you at a loss for words," Eddie said. "I bet you're wishing you guys lived in the same neighborhood."
Patrick shoved the picture in his folder and glared at him. "Hardly. And even if we did live in the same neighborhood, she'd be like a kid sister! She's three years younger than me!"
"Hardly! She'll be ten in November," Eddie reminded him, waving the letter in his face.
"We're too young to get together," Patrick answered, snatching the letter back. "You have too many sisters."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean anyways?"
"You have way too many romantic notions in your head."
"Not true! I'm all boy, my grandmother said so!"
Patrick burst into laughter and earned a look from Miss Perkins. He cleared his throat and smiled charmingly at his teacher before turning back to finish working on his reply to Teresa.
Dear Teresa,
I am sorry that you were sick, I hate sore throats. Sometimes I think I would rather have the stomach flu than a sore throat. Because the stomach bug lasts about twenty-four hours when a sore throat can go on for days and days before you feel good again. I hope you don't need tissues anymore.
Thank you for the picture, I like knowing what you look like. I'll send you one of myself as soon as I possibly can. I don't have any available to me right now.
I am sorry Stella is giving you trouble. We don't have to talk about her anymore, we can talk about little league baseball and what books we're reading, or whatever it is you want to talk about in these letters. I'll never bring Stella up again. I promise, that was my last time doing it.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Patrick
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Chicago
Teresa reached up and scratched her nose while she tried to concentrate on praying her rosary beads, but her mind was on Patrick and the letter she had gotten from him on Thursday. He hadn't sent her a picture in return for her's because he didn't have any available to him. She thought it was strange that even though his father wasn't the best father in the world, he didn't have pictures of his own son.
"Teresa!" Siobhan hissed. "Stop fidgeting!"
"Sorry mom!" Teresa whispered back, completely contrite until her thoughts started drifting and she started to fidget again.
"Teresa!" Siobhan said, looking at her.
"Sorry!" Teresa repeated, closing her eyes and squeezing her beads tightly. Her carefully memorized prayers changed into clumsy ones for Patrick.
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"You seemed to be having trouble paying attention in church this morning," Siobhan commented as she put water on for pasta.
"I know," Teresa said sheepishly as she unbuttoned her cardigan and draped it over a chair.
"Going to mass is important," Siobhan reminded her.
"I know," Teresa answered.
"Do you want to tell me where your mind was?"
Teresa was embarrassed to admit it but she did because she knew her mother wouldn't appreciate it if she lied. "I was thinking about the letter I got from Patrick on Thursday."
"Oh? And what did he say that captured your intense attention?"
Teresa blushed. "He didn't have a picture of himself to send to me in return for my picture. Isn't that weird? Why wouldn't his father take pictures of him?"
Siobhan shrugged and got some hamburger from the fridge to make meatballs. "Sometimes parents don't know how to be parents," she answered. "Maybe Patrick's father just doesn't know how to be a father. You'll understand when you're older."
"I'm going to be a good mother!" Teresa replied hotly.
"I don't doubt it," Siobhan said. "But you'll understand why some people are good parents and why others aren't. Now be a good girl and go get some sauce in the pantry. And for pity's sake, try not to let your mind stray during church next week!"
"Okay," Teresa answered, smiling at her mother.
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Dear Patrick,
My cold is completely gone now; I don't even need tissues anymore. I do think having the stomach bug is equally as bad as a sore throat, even if it does only last for 24 hours. Those 24 hours can be completely nasty.
I will wait patiently for your picture; there isn't any hurry for it. Although, I would like to see what you look like before the school year ends and we lose contact.
Stella and I still haven't made up, but I think I am better off without her. And that is the last thing I will say about her.
I am reading another Nancy Drew story, the one where she meets Ned Nickerson. You probably don't know it though. I love Nancy Drew; she is one of my idols. One day I am going to become a detective. Not because of Nancy Drew though, because the people in my family always go into police work and I am keeping up the family tradition. Before you tell me to follow my own dream that is exactly what I am doing. Nobody in the family has been a detective since my great-grandfather Lisbon.
He had the best stories when he was alive, all about the murderers he would track down and the gorgeous women who would come in his office looking for a missing person. He made putting away bad guys sound like the most fun in the whole entire world. So, you can call me Nancy Drew if you want. And I don't even want to hear about how Nancy Drew doesn't even carry a gun!
Looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Sincerely,
Teresa
P.S
I am Chicago Cubs fan all the way, but I had a Red Sox hat on in the picture I sent you because they are another underdog team and my uncle loves rooting for the underdog teams. The last time they won a World Series was in 1918, of course that is barely anything compared to the Cubs last win in 1908 but still. . . 1918 is a long time not to win especially when they were literally baseball royalty at one point. I guess you aren't a big fan of sports though, so I'll end there for now.
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Florida
"Here's the picture you asked for from the family picnic this summer," Eddie said, thrusting it at Patrick. "Mom got it developed just in time for today's letter writing assignment."
"Thanks!" Patrick answered enthusiastically as he looked at it. It was a family picture of him and the Millers, but she could tell who he was easily. With his white blonde hair and tan skin, he stuck out like a sore thumb.
"So, are you coming to my house after school?" Eddie asked as he slid into his desk and craned his neck to look at him.
"What's the occasion this time?"
"Nothing, except that it's Friday. You know what that means!"
"Homemade mac & cheese and a trip to the movies," Patrick finished for his friend, smiling at the thought.
"Exactly!" Eddie replied. "So, are you going to come or not?"
"Of course!" Patrick answered. "Thanks for inviting me!"
"Of course!" Eddie repeated, smiling at him.
When they got to Eddie's house at the end of the school day, Ray Charles was pouring out of the screen door and windows.
"Georgia on My Mind means one thing, Dad's home early!" Eddie told Patrick as he raced up the walkway. "He's the only one who puts Ray Charles on voluntarily, mom prefers classical music."
"I know!" Patrick replied as he caught up with Eddie.
The door flew open and LeRoy Miller came out. "Edward, Patrick! There you are! How about we swing by the beach for quick surf before dinner? Your mother said there's plenty of time to do it."
"Do we want to go surfing!?" Eddie repeated, laughing. "Dad, you know Patrick here lives to surf! You don't even have to ask."
"I thought that was your surfboard and swimming trunks I saw when I left for work this morning," Mr. Miller told Patrick.
"The waves were pretty good this morning," Patrick answered. "Eddie and I couldn't resist going surfing before school started."
Mr. Miller looked at Eddie. "Next time the two of you decide to go surfing in the morning, come and get me. Okay? It's dangerous for two little boys to be out on the waves all by themselves."
Eddie made a face. "Dad, we're hardly two little boys!"
Mr. Miller laughed. "Only little boys say stuff like that. Now go on, go and get changed and make sure you put sunblock on while you're at it. Hurry!"
They did as they were told even though Eddie mumbled a little bit about having to put sunblock on even though it wasn't that sunny outside. A few minutes later, they rolled out of the driveway in Mr. Miller's door less jeep that he only reserved for going on surfing trips and to the drive-in theater.
They surfed for an hour and then Mr. Miller made them come out and get dried off, because dinner was probably ready and he didn't want to make Mrs. Miller keep it warm for them.
Dinner was waiting for them when they got home; they ate it while they were still dressed in their swim shorts. Afterwards, they left the dishes in the sink and went to the drive-in theater where they ate salty movie theater popcorn and peanut M&Ms while they watched a double-feature of Gidget and Gidget Goes Hawaiian.
They drove home when it was late, too late to take Patrick back to his own home. He spent a sleepless night in a sleeping bag outside, staring at the stars and wondering what it would be like to have a family who went to drive-in theaters on Friday nights and a father who worried about him when he snuck out to go surfing in the wee small hours of the morning or when he didn't come home at night. The tidal wave of longing that overtook him was so strong, it stole his breath away.
He looked over at Eddie, sleeping peacefully in a sleeping bag next to his, and tried not to be envious of his friend. But he had things he didn't; it was easy to let the feelings creep in. He fought hard not to let it overtake him.
Dear Nancy Drew,
Unlike you and Eddie, I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I guess I still have time to figure it out; it isn't like somebody is going to come to me tomorrow and demand I make a career choice. It will be years before I even have a family to support. I do know I do not want to be the Boy Wonder for the rest of my life; I do not want to lie and give people false hope. Up until now, being a showman was my biggest desire.
I think you'd make a really good detective one day. And Eddie is going to be a very good pastor. I know he has already decided to do this even though he doesn't.
Tonight is mac & cheese night at his house, he invited me to go and have dinner with him and his family. Later on, we'll go and catch the double-feature at the drive-in. They're showing two of the Gidget movies.
This morning, Eddie and I snuck out before sunrise to go surfing. The waves were terrific this morning. Usually you have to wait forever to catch a good one. One day, I want to live on a beach in California or Hawaii where the surfing is always good. One day, I want to teach you how to surf.
You'll love it, I promise.
Your great-grandfather sounds like he was really interesting. You were lucky to get to know him.
I'm glad you're feeling better.
And I don't like sports, but I do like history. And your PS was exactly that, a little history lesson about sports teams. Thank you.
I am sorry you and Stella haven't made up yet. I hope you find a new friend soon. You deserve somebody who's just as amazing as you are.
Sincerely,
Patrick
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Chicago
Teresa tapped her pencil against her desk as she reread her latest letter from Patrick. He reminded her of the lost little boy she had seen at the park during summer vacation. So sad and so alone.
She sighed and pulled her piece of notebook paper closer, she doodled flowers in the margin, trying to figure out how to reply to him. He had bigger feelings than she could fathom, she didn't know how to deal with them and yet, she didn't want to leave him to deal with them all by himself.
She wished she could discuss it with her mother, her mother always knew the right thing to say. She skimmed the letter one more time and then she began to write.
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Teresa sat by herself on the bus ride home, she read the copy of the Little Prince she had checked out from the library that day. She was so engrossed that she didn't notice when the girl fresh off the plane from the Philippines sat down next to her.
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
Teresa looked up quickly, startled out of her engrossed reading and then nodded. "No, of course not!" she tucked her book into her backpack and stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Teresa Lisbon. You're Leah, right?"
"Yes," Leah answered. "Nice to meet you Teresa."
"It's nice to meet you too," Teresa replied, smiling at her.
Dear Patrick,
Well, what do you like to do best besides being a showman? I bet you'd make a good teacher one day. Daddy says the world always needs good teachers. Maybe you could teach history since you love it so much. Or maybe you could work at a resort in Hawaii and teach surfing to the kids who come for vacation. Whatever you decide to do, I'm sure you'll be amazing at it.
Sometimes I am sad thinking about you without a real family and then I realize you have Eddie and his family. You know that, though. I'm glad you have them. And mac & cheese Friday nights and drive-in movies. I hope you have them forever.
Maybe one day you will get to teach me to surf. I hope you will anyways.
Stella and I haven't made up yet, but it's okay. I think I am better off without her anyways. I am sure there is somebody out there to be friends with. And even if there isn't, I have you. And that counts for something to me.
Until next time!
Sincerely,
Teresa (aka Nancy Drew)
TBC. . .
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Author's Note:
I am SO sorry for the delay. Real life totally got in the way and before I knew it, it had been over two weeks since I updated. I hope you're still reading this and you'll forgive the long absence. I am still here, I am still writing this story. I hope to go back to updating once a week (on Fridays) because things are finally slowing down. In the meantime, I hope you'll leave a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter!
Until Next Time!
Love,
Holly, 8/27/2014_