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Overview
Dawn and Sunny used to be best friends. But now it seems like nothing can get them to talk to each other and resolve their issues. Dawn misses her former friend—even if she can’t admit it.
When Ducky scores tickets to see their favorite band, Jax, he wants to take both Dawn and Sunny. But even a fun night out can’t bring them together. In fact, they are angrier and further apart than ever before. The one thing they still share is their sadness over Sunny’s mom’s illness. No one else understands what they’re going through. But can they get through their anger long enough to rekindle their friendship?
This ebook features an illustrated personal history of Ann M. Martin, including rare images from the author’s collection.
Dawn: Diary Three is the 11th book in the California Diaries, which also includes Ducky: Diary Two and Sunny: Diary Three.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781453298183 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Open Road Media |
| Publication date: | 03/25/2014 |
| Series: | California Diaries Series , #11 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 144 |
| File size: | 10 MB |
| Age Range: | 12 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Dawn: Diary Three
California Diaries
By Ann M. Martin
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA
Copyright © 1999 Ann M. MartinAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9818-3
CHAPTER 1
Late Friday night 2/5
Ah. The weekend. Here at last. I don't know why I'm so thrilled. It's not like I have plans or anything. It's just a nice break. This is such a draggy time of year. Even in California. We don't get all that snow and ice and slush we used to have in Connecticut, but we've had endless storms and rains and
Oops. Sorry. Gracie was crying. Now I'm back. I'm baby-sitting tonight. These are my big Friday night plans. Baby-sitting for Gracie and Jeff.
This has been the great excitement of the week: On Tuesday the groundhog saw his shadow, so we will have six more weeks of winter. Big deal.
I can never understand how that groundhog thing works. Year after year it mystifies me. What is that ground-hog's name? Punxatonnie Slim? (I think he resides in Pennsylvania.) And why does seeing his shadow mean a longer winter? If he sees his shadow, doesn't that mean it's a nice sunny day? And wouldn't that mean that we're already enjoying an early spring? Very strange.
Oh, well. I don't think Punxatonnie Slim's condition in Pennsylvania has all that much to do with California weather anyway.
Boy. Gracie is really fussy tonight. Maybe she's getting new teeth. I've decided to keep her up with me for awhile. Now she's on her tummy on my floor, examining the bunnies on her blanket. She seems a lot happier, but I MUST get her back in her crib before Dad and Carol come home. They won't appreciate my laid-back baby-sitting techniques. They—Yikes there's their car
Later Friday night 2/5
Whoa. That was close. I scooped Gracie up and ran her back to her room. When Dad and Carol came in, they found me standing over Gracie's crib in the dark, talking softly to her, like I'd been trying to soothe her for hours. But I just know that letting her get up is better for her. If I were a baby, that's what I'd want.
Oh, well.
Dad paid me, and now he and Carol have gone to bed, so I'm the only one up. I can't sleep. I'm rolling that groundhog issue around in my head, which is absolutely insane. Whenever I start mulling over something as idiotic as a groundhog, I know something else is really bothering me. What is really bothering me tonight?
Easy.
It's Sunny.
We're still barely speaking to each other.
I AM SO MAD AT HER.
And yet she's my friend. She's been one of my best friends for so long. I miss her. I miss her a lot.
I'm mad at her and I miss her.
Saturday 2/6
I'm sitting in my bedroom, looking out the window and across the yard at Sunny's house. It's bad enough being mad at your best friend, but when she lives right next door, it's just so ... uncomfortable.
I wonder if Sunny feels the way I do. Possibly, this doesn't matter to her just now. After all, her mother is back in the hospital. In, out, in, out, for how long? The last year or so, at least.
I hope I never get cancer.
Sunny spends a lot of her time and energy not visiting her mother in the hospital. She must have to go to great lengths to appear so busy that, day after day, she can't get to the hospital.
I think I'll visit Mrs. Winslow today.
This afternoon.
Later Saturday afternoon 2/6
Oh. My. God.
Mrs. Winslow looks dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. Her hair was just starting to grow back and then they began chemo on her again, and now it's coming out in brushfuls. I brought her a new scarf today so we could experiment with styling. She tied it on her head so that just a few wispy bangs were showing.
"How should I fix these, Dawn?" she said. She was looking at her bangs in a hand mirror and holding up a comb.
"Maybe sort of over to the side," I suggested.
So she ran the comb through the bangs and pulled them out. I mean, all the bangs. Clean out of her head.
I nearly cried.
But Mrs. Winslow just held up a big pair of gold hoop earrings and said, "Well, if I want the pirate look, it'll work better without the bangs." And then she dropped her bangs into the wastebasket (on top of another clump of hair).
I forced a laugh. "The pirate look. Oh, that's your best look."
Mrs. Winslow set the comb and mirror aside. She put on the earrings. "How's Gracie?" she asked.
"Teething," I replied.
"Oh, poor you. Poor all of you."
"Jeff got up in the middle of the night and slept on the kitchen floor," I told her. "He tried the bathroom first, but the kitchen was farther away from Gracie's room. Anything to escape the screeching. I slept with my headphones on."
"Smart girl," said Mrs. Winslow.
I really wanted to ask if Sunny had been by recently, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to put Mrs. Winslow in the middle. She knows Sunny and I aren't speaking (much), and she feels bad about it. She also feels hurt that Sunny visits her so rarely. But she doesn't mention it. At least not to me. After all, Sunny is her daughter.
I tried to make myself useful. I watered Mrs. Winslow's flowers. I tidied a pile of newspapers and magazines and set them under the visitor's chair. Mrs. Winslow is lucky to have a private room, but god it's tiny. You can barely walk around her bed. The rest of the furniture consists of a narrow table that slides across the bed so she can eat (which she hardly ever feels like doing), the visitor's chair (just one), a TV, which is bolted high up in a corner of the room and is really hard to operate, and the wastebasket. That's it. I tidied up in, like, 45 seconds. After that I filled the water glass and got Mrs. Winslow another blanket. (She's cold all the time.) By then I was starting to get nervous that Sunny might show up after all, and I really didn't want to run into her.
I put my jacket on. "So how long do you think you'll be here this time?" I asked.
Mrs. Winslow shrugged. "I never know. Awhile, I guess."
I nodded. Then I kissed her cheek, said good-bye, and left.
You know what? This is completely ridiculous, but every time I kiss Mrs. Winslow this teeny, tiny part of me wonders if you can catch cancer. I know you can't.
And still I wonder.
Saturday night 2/6
I love Ducky. I really do.
When I came back from the hospital, I walked by the Winslows' house and saw him sitting on their front porch.
"Hey, Ducky!" I called.
"Hey," he replied. He stood up.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I dropped by to see if Sunny was home. I guess she isn't"
I love Ducky, and Ducky loves Sunny. Deeply. Like a sister. And I love him like a brother. Well, that's not quite true because I do not feel the way about Ducky that I do about Jeff. (Although maybe that's because Ducky is sixteen and Jeff is ten.) What I'm trying to say is that there is no boyfriend/girlfriend thing going on between me and Ducky, or Ducky or Sunny. Ducky just loves Sunny and me. Maggie and Amalia too. He likes to take care of his friends. He's especially protective of Sunny right now.
Ducky trotted across the Winslows' lawn.
"I was just at the hospital," I told him.
"With Mrs. Winslow?"
"Yeah."
"Was Sunny there?"
"Ducky."
Ducky shrugged. "Just asking."
I said, "A, she hardly ever goes to the hospital. And B, we still aren't speaking, so we certainly wouldn't have gone to the hospital together." I took off my baseball cap and put it on Ducky's head.
"I just thought you might have run into each other there."
"Nope. Want to come over?"
"Sure."
Ducky and I sat at our kitchen table and split a bottle of spring water. Carol joined us for awhile. She sat down on the other side of the table and began to breast-feed Gracie. Ducky hasn't been to my house that often, so he doesn't know Dad and Carol very well. But this didn't stop Carol. She didn't even hesitate before lifting up her shirt. At least she kind of rearranged herself and Gracie's blanket so that not TOO much of her breast showed. And Ducky barely batted an eye. He didn't look, and he didn't make a big deal about not looking. He is incredible that way.
I kept telling myself that breast-feeding is a natural bodily event.
But really. In front of my friends?
Eventually Carol and Gracie left. Ducky and I paged through The Corner Bulletin, which is the new community newspaper. (It's, like, 8 pages long.)
"Hey, look! Vanish is going to be playing next week. At the high school in Verona."
"Cool. They're advertising now," said Ducky.
And at that very moment, almost as if she'd overheard us, Amalia called. I picked up the phone, heard her voice, and shrieked. "We just saw the notice about Vanish in the newspaper!" I cried. "How come you guys are playing in Verona?"
"Hey, we have a reputation now," Amalia said. "People know us. The offers are pouring in."
We chatted for a few minutes and then hung up.
Ducky left.
I was at loose ends. I called Maggie. Ostensibly I was calling just to say hi, but I tried to work food into the conversation. I wanted to hear Maggie say she'd been eating like a normal person lately, or that she had gained five pounds and needed to buy new clothes. Something. But she didn't pick up on my cues. I guess I was too subtle. Anyway, she's much better these days. Dr. Fuentes is really helping her work things out.
When I hung up the phone this time, I just sort of sat at the table. I thought about what a weekend in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, would have been like—Mary Anne and Claudia and Stacey and everyone in and out of the house, baby-sitting, so many activities that by the end of the weekend I would need another weekend just to recover.
So many activities? What I really mean is so many friends. So many close friends. I don't seem to have that now. Not with everything changing.
Not without Sunny.
Sunday 2/7
Guess what. I took off on my bike for a ride this afternoon, and when I got home, Sunny was darting across our backyard in the direction of her house. I found Carol and Gracie in the kitchen and two bottles of spring water on the table. Now, Gracie certainly wasn't drinking that bottled water. So I said, "Carol, was Sunny just here?"
Carol looked uncomfortable, but she replied, "Yeah. She came over to visit Gracie."
"She has awfully good hearing," I commented.
"Gracie?"
"No, Sunny. She's fast too."
"What do you mean?" asked Carol.
"I mean that she must have zipped out the back door the very second she heard me putting my bike away. She had almost reached her yard by the time I saw her. Very quick. She must be in good shape from all those trips she's been making to the hospital."
"Dawn."
"Well, she makes me so mad! She sneaks around, visiting you and Gracie right under my nose, but she never visits me. And she never visits her mother either."
"She's dealing with things in her own way, Dawn."
"You mean she's avoiding things in her own way."
"Honey, this is an extremely difficult time for her. Her mother is not doing well. You know that."
"Yes, because I'm the one who visits her mother."
"But she's Sunny's mother, not yours, Dawn. We don't know how we'll react when we find ourselves in difficult situations. We always think we know, but we don't. Not really."
"But I'm in the same difficult situation she is."
"No, you're not. Because Mrs. Winslow isn't your mother."
I stared at Carol. And neither are you, I thought. For just one little teeny split second I hated Carol. Then the moment passed.
I shrugged and stood up from the table. I used to think of Carol as my wicked stepmother, but not anymore. She can still drive me crazy, but in a more normal way.
I changed the subject. "How are Gracie's teeth?"
"Coming in just fine." Carol grinned. "She'll be well armed when she reaches the biting stage." Carol put the empty bottles in the recycling can. Then she said, "Dawn, I am convinced that you and Sunny will be friends again one day. Just give her time."
Sunday night 2/7
I am bored.
What a rich and fulfilling weekend this has been. Baby-sitting (for three hours), one hospital visit, one bike ride, a few dull phone calls, playing Monopoly with Jeff, watching Gracie's teeth come in, homework. Yada, yada, yada. I am exhausted from all the excitement.
Later Sunday night 2/7
I heard somewhere that if you want excitement, you have to create it. Or maybe I made that up. Anyway, after letting boredom wash over me, I decided to un-bore myself.
First I called Maggie again. "Hey," I said.
"Hey," she replied.
"What are you doing?"
"Studying. History test tomorrow. First thing."
"Ugh."
I think Maggie wanted to get off the phone, but that would have made for a sad first attempt at un-boring myself, so I just asked point-blank. "How's your weight?"
Maggie was in a huge rush to get off the phone. "Fine. I gained two more pounds." She actually sounded proud of herself, which pleased me. I didn't think we would have to eat any more meals watching Maggie pick at a carrot shaving and then announce that she was full.
"Well ..."
"Well, I really have to finish studying," said Maggie. (Very few things can come between Maggie and her studying.) "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah. See you."
I put the phone down, then picked it up and called Ducky. "What are you doing?" I asked him.
"I just finished dinner."
I looked at my watch "Now?" It was a quarter to ten.
"Yeah. I thought my brother was coming home, but I guess he isn't. Not yet, anyway. So I finally took the pizza out of the oven. I ate all of it except for the two pieces I dropped on the floor. I saved those for Ted."
I laughed. Ducky didn't. I thought he sounded a little sad or something. "Ducky? Is everything okay?"
"Sure."
I knew it wasn't. I cast around for what could be wrong. Let's see. He was worried about Sunny. He missed his parents. Oh, wait. Alex. He missed Alex or felt guilty about him or was mad at him. "Is it Alex?" I asked.
Ducky was startled. "What?"
"Is that what you're upset about?"
"I didn't say I was upset."
"I know, but you are."
Ducky sighed. "I called his mother today. Alex probably isn't going to come back to Vista anytime soon."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Why not?"
"He just ... isn't."
"But why?" I pressed.
"He needs special, um, treatment. For at least a few months. I guess he'll be in a hospital or something."
I didn't know what to say. I mean, he's Ducky's best friend and he tried to kill himself.
"Dawn?" said Ducky after a moment. "It's okay."
"I know. I know it will be, anyway. But it's awful right now."
"Yeah."
"What's the worst part?"
Ducky paused for so long that I said, "Is it that you miss him?"
"No."
"What, then?"
"That I think I could have prevented it from happening."
"Oh, Ducky. Don't do that to yourself. Anyway, you kept the worst from happening," I pointed out.
"Yeah." Ducky did not sound convinced.
I changed the subject. "Sunny came over today."
"You're kidding. Really?"
"To visit Carol. She fled when I came home."
"I'm glad she talks to Carol," said Ducky.
For some reason, tears sprang to my eyes. "Well ..." was all I managed to say.
"Dawn, just go easy on her."
When Carol says things like that I want to stick my tongue out at her. When Ducky says them, I just love him even more.
"Okay," I replied.
Even later Sunday night 2/7
After I hung up the phone I was going to call Amalia, but the conversation with Ducky had tired me out. And then the phone rang and it was Amalia. Of course, when Carol called me to the phone she had to whisper, "Tell your friends not to call so late."
I looked at my watch again. It was 10:05. I couldn't decide whether that was actually late for a phone call, so I didn't say anything. I just took the phone from Carol.
"Hi, it's Amalia," said Amalia. "Is it too late to call?"
I considered. "Carol thinks so, but I don't," I said finally.
Amalia laughed. Then we talked about school and Brendan and Maggie and Ducky and even Sunny (a little). Finally I noticed that Carol was standing in the kitchen doorway, circling her finger at me, which is her embarrassing way of silently telling me to wind up the call. I made a face, but when we reached a lull in the conversation, I said, "Amalia, I have to go." I was going to whisper that Carol was making me get off the phone, but she was still standing right there. Luckily Amalia understood.
"Yeah. My dad's telling me to go too. I'll see you in school tomorrow."
Study hall, Monday 2/8
Last night when I got off the phone I didn't go to sleep. I had created enough excitement with my phone calls so that I was just a little too keyed up to fall asleep. I found the newspaper and took it into bed with me. Not that dinky 8-page paper, but the Palo City weekly paper. I thumbed through it. Headlines ran by my eyes. Stuff about the school board, potholes, the town's budget. Yawn, yawn, yawn.
Then I read the wedding announcements, the birth announcements, and the police blotter.
And then a headline caught my eye that was so exciting it was responsible for keeping me up until nearly 3:00. It read: JAX TO PLAY IN NORTH PALO. Since I didn't believe this could actually refer to the Jax, I almost turned the page. But something made me glance at the article anyway, and I nearly began screaming. I had to read the first paragraph twice to make sure I understood it. But sure enough, it said that Jax, "the rock phenomenon from Belgium," was going to play a concert—a single concert—at a club in North Palo in a few weeks.
Jax. The real Jax.
The band of my dreams.
The band for which Pierre X is one of the singers.
I know almost nothing about him except that I am in love with him.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Dawn: Diary Three by Ann M. Martin. Copyright © 1999 Ann M. Martin. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Late Friday night 2/5,Saturday 2/6,
Sunday 2/7,
Monday 2/8,
Wednesday 2/10,
Thursday 2/11,
Friday 2/12,
Saturday night 2/13,
Sunday 2/14,
Monday 2/15,
Tuesday 2/16,
Thursday 2/18,
Friday 2/19,
Saturday morning 2/20,
Sunday 2/21,
Monday 2/22,
Tuesday 2/23,
Wednesday afternoon 2/24,
Thursday 2/25,
Friday 2/26,
Saturday morning 2/27,
Sunday morning 2/28,
Monday night 3/1,
Tuesday 3/2,
Thursday morning 3/4,
Friday morning 3/5,
Preview: Sunny: Diary Three,
A Personal History by Ann M. Martin,