Hard Choices Read online

  HARD CHOICES

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  HARD CHOICES

  "Enid?" Her grandmother's insistent voice reached her from the living room. "Enid, I need my medicine."

  Choking back tears, Enid stared out the front door watching her mother leave for the evening. This can't be happening, she thought wildly. My mother doesn't really expect me not to see Hugh tonight.

  Enid was trembling with anger as she walked into the living room. Her grandmother looked up from her magazine and smiled faintly, "Enid, please bring me my medicine."

  Enid stared in disbelief. Her grandmother had just ruined her weekend—and she was smiling! Just then the door bell rang.

  Enid went slowly to the front door. It was Hugh. Before he could speak, she said bluntly, "I can't go."

  For a moment he regarded her without speaking. The bouquet of flowers he was holding fell to his side.

  "My grandmother says she's sick. I can't leave her."

  "I can't believe you're breaking another date," Hugh said. "Do you think this is funny or something? Is that it?"

  Too tired and upset to argue, Enid leaned her forehead against the door and muttered, "Just go to the party without me, Hugh."

  "Listen," Hugh said. "Give me a call sometime when you've got a few free minutes. Maybe I'll be around." He threw the flowers down on the ground, turned, and strode to his car. Enid watched, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  One

  "How long are you going to be at Enid's?" Jessica Wakefield tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of the red Fiat convertible and turned to her sister, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "I told Lila and Cara I'd meet them at the Dairi Burger at four-thirty," Jessica added.

  Elizabeth Wakefield sent her identical twin a look of exasperation as they sat parked at a curb in a residential section of Sweet Valley. "Well, Enid and I are almost finished moving her stuff, so I guess I can be ready at quarter past, Jess."

  But to be perfectly realistic, she added to herself, Jessica's definition of being on time was pretty flexible. Whenever Jessica Wakefield arrived was when things got started—at least in Jessica's opinion. And besides, she never wore a watch, so it was anybody's guess when she might turn up. So Elizabeth had learned at a young age not to rely too heavily on her twin's punctuality.

  In a way, their different attitude about time was a perfect example of the differences between them. Elizabeth was only four minutes older than Jessica, but it was a standing joke in their family that Elizabeth had been born on time—and Jessica four minutes late! That had been more or less the pattern for all their sixteen years.

  Even though at first glance Elizabeth and Jessica seemed to be absolutely identical—from their slim size-six figures and blond hair to their striking blue-green eyes and the dimple in each girl's left cheek—they were as different on the inside as two people could be. Jessica dashed through life like a bolt of lightning, but Elizabeth thought things through before getting involved, often sorting out her ideas by writing in her journal. But in spite of their wildly different styles, the Wakefield twins shared a special bond that no one else could understand.

  Jessica sent her sister a twinkling smile. "Then I'll see you at a quarter past four, Liz. On the dot."

  "OK, Jess," Elizabeth agreed as she opened the door and stepped out of the Fiat. She held back a grin as she repeated, "On the dot."

  With a carefree wave, Jessica put the car in gear and roared away from the curb. Elizabeth chuckled to herself and headed up to the walk to her best friend's house.

  "Where do you want me to put these, Enid?" Elizabeth asked, carrying an armload of books and staggering through the door of the attic bedroom.

  Enid Rollins turned around, "Uh, just on the floor in the corner, I guess, Liz," she said absently. "I'll have to figure out something for bookshelves pretty soon."

  "Whew, what a load!" Elizabeth gasped as she put the the books down. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Pushing her bangs off her forehead, she looked around her critically. "This could be a really nice room, Enid, you know?"

  Enid nodded eagerly. "I know. Mom and I decided all it needs are a few touches to make it really homey. We saw a pretty rug downtown that would look great up here. And I thought some plants would look nice too, but for now . . ."

  For now, they couldn't really afford those extra touches, Enid thought to herself. As a single parent, Mrs. Rollins couldn't make her salary stretch to redecorate two rooms in the house at the same time; and at the moment they were working hard to make Enid's old bedroom a new home for Mrs. Langevin, Enid's grandmother, who was coming to live with them.

  With a happy sigh, Enid dropped down on the floor beside Elizabeth and crossed her legs in front of her. "I can't wait till Nana gets here, Liz. You'll love her as much as I do, I know it. She's so funny and sweet and—and grandmotherly!" She laughed. "And when she starts baking cookies—look out!"

  "Whoa! Sounds serious." Elizabeth smiled. "I'm so happy for you, Enid. Really."

  "Thanks, Liz. Me, too." Even since her grandmother had decided to move in with them, Enid had been very excited. Some of her happiest childhood memories were of Nana—and Gramps, too, when he was still alive, but it was her grandmother's loving green eyes and snow-white curls that always sprang to mind whenever Enid thought about those magical visits to the rambling old house in Chicago.

  But when Mr. Langevin had died a few months earlier, it didn't make much sense for his widow to live alone in that big house. So even though the Rollinses' house was much smaller, there had never been any question about finding room for Nana. Enid didn't like having to give up her pretty bedroom and move up to the attic, but her grandmother was worth it. They certainly couldn't ask her to climb those extra stairs! Enid was willing to make any sacrifice for her grandmother's sake.

  There were footsteps on the attic stairs, and Mrs. Rollins, who had taken the afternoon off from her job, appeared in the doorway with a pile of linens in her arms. "What's this? Sitting down on the job, girls?" she joked. "Elizabeth Wakefield, you're a terrible influence on my daughter."

  "That's right," Enid chimed in, trying to suppress a laugh. "It's all her fault, Mom."

  "Hey, no fair ganging up on me!" Elizabeth protested. But she had been around the Rollinses enough to know that they were only teasing.

  Enid scrambled to her feet and held out a hand to help Elizabeth up. "Here. Help me make this bed, will you?" she asked, shaking out a fitted sheet. "And stop causing trouble," she added, the smile on her face betraying the joke.

  "The abuse I take," Elizabeth muttered in an injured tone. "Every time I come over here, it's nothing but nag, nag, nag."

  When they finished making the bed, Mrs. Rollins reappeared in the doorway with an armload of Enid's clothes.

  "Sorry, honey. I know there really isn't anywhere for you to put your clothes in here yet, but the closet in Nana's room is so small—and I'm not sure how many things she'll be bringing."

  A look of dismay crossed Enid's face as she took the dresses and skirts. "What am I going to do with this stuff?" She glanced quickly around the room.

  "Maybe we could put some nails in the wall," Elizabeth suggested. "Then you could hang up a cord to put the hangers on."

  "Hmmm." Pursing her lips, Mrs. Rollins regarded the unfinished attic walls and shrugged. "I guess that's what we'll have to do for now. Later on we can get some kind of wardrobe, honey."

  Enid nodded and tossed the bundle of clothes on the bed. "Oh, well—it's not such a big deal." She met Elizabeth's gaze briefly, then looked away.

  At that moment, a furious honking reached their ears from the street. Enid and Elizabeth crossed to one of the attic windows and looked out.

  "Wouldn't you know it?" Elizabeth said with a laugh. "For once in her life, Jess is on time. I hate to leave you stranded," she continued, glancing around at the mess. "Hey, why don't you come with us?"

  "Oh—well, I—" Enid frowned.

  Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. "Go on, honey, you can always finish later."

  The horn sounded again, and Elizabeth picked up her jacket. "I'll try to keep her calm until you get ready."

  Enid nodded. "Thanks. I'll be down in a second."

  As Elizabeth ran quickly down the stairs, Mrs. Rollins put both hands on Enid's shoulders and looked intently into her face.

  "Sweetheart, I want you to know how proud I am of you for being so generous and helpful about moving and getting ready for Nana."

  Enid blushed. "It's OK, Mom. You know I'd do anything for her."

  "Of course you would, but I want to make sure you realize what it means."

  "What it means?" Enid repeated as her mother led her to the bed and sat her down.

  "Nana is going to have a very difficult time adjusting to life here, and we're going to have to try very hard to make it as easy for her as possible," Mrs. Rollins said. She took Enid's hands in her own and smiled tenderly. "When Gramp
s died, a big part of her life ended, too. Just remember that, will you?"

  "Sure, Mom. I understand. Really."

  "I know you do, sweetie." Mrs. Rollins drew Enid close in a tight hug. "Oooooh. I love you so much. You know that?"

  Enid smiled and squeezed back. "I know. Me, too." She wished they could stay that way forever—her and her mother, and now her grandmother, too. She felt a momentary sting of jealousy as she thought of her mother's boyfriend, Richard Cernak, and the time her mother spent with him. If it weren't for his taking so much of her mother's attention, things would be perfect.

  "Now get out of here—your friends are waiting for you." With a playful shove, Mrs. Rollins pushed Enid out of the room. Enid grabbed her canvas shoulder bag in the downstairs hall and ran outside to join the Wakefield twins.

  The Fiat glided into the parking lot of the Dairi Burger, and Jessica maneuvered it deftly into a space. The three girls made their way across the parking lot, which was packed with cars—typical for a Friday afternoon. At the door Jessica went her own way, spotting her two best friends, Lila Fowler and Cara Walker, sitting in a booth. Elizabeth and Enid found an empty table across the room and sat down gratefully.

  "You stay here," Enid suggested, instantly rising to her feet, "and I'll go get us some sodas. It's so crowded today we'd probably lose the table if we both went."

  Elizabeth grinned up at her friend. "OK—make it my usual, bartender."

  "One root beer, coming up!" With a salute, Enid turned and picked her way across the popular after-school hangout.

  "Liz! Hi, I can't believe I found you."

  Looking up in surprise, Elizabeth saw Penny Ayala, the editor-in-chief of Sweet Valley High's student newspaper, The Oracle, hurrying toward her.

  "What's up, Pen? You look like you're in a panic."

  Rolling her eyes, Penny sank down into Enid's empty seat and dumped a manila folder on the table. "That is not the word for it, Liz. Listen, we had a major problem with the typesetter this week, and I just got the proofs for the next edition today. Can you do me a huge favor and proofread some of them this afternoon or tonight?"

  "Sure, no problem," Elizabeth said quickly, pulling the pages toward her. Writing the school's "Eyes and Ears" gossip column was only part of the work she did on the paper. She also wrote articles and, like everyone else on the staff, helped out with editorial duties such as proofreading.

  As Penny left wearing a grateful smile, Elizabeth ran her eyes down the first page. Instantly she spotted a headline that caught her attention: "Filmmaker Announces Showcase for Student Documentaries." Her curiosity was piqued, and Elizabeth read the short piece quickly. Jackson Croft, a famous film producer and director, was the father of one of Elizabeth's classmates, Susan Stewart.

  "What are you reading?"

  Elizabeth looked up as Enid rejoined her with two sodas. "Listen to this, Enid," she said as she reached for her root beer. "Susan's father is sponsoring a showcase for student documentaries. Anyone who's interested can have a one-hour video shown. I wonder if anyone from our school will make one."

  "Why don't you?"

  Elizabeth met Enid's gaze across the table and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I never really thought about doing anything like that," she said. "Besides, I wouldn't have any idea what to make a documentary about."

  Enid rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're always such a creative desert."

  "Oh, shut up!" Elizabeth regarded her best friend and smiled, "Well, maybe I'll think about it."

  "You could do a documentary about grandmothers moving in with their kids' families," Enid quipped, her eyes twinkling above the rim of her paper cup.

  "Hmm. Know anyone like that I might be able to interview?"

  Enid shrugged nonchalantly. "I could probably think of one person."

  Giggling, Elizabeth looked around the familiar interior of the Dairi Burger. It was packed with students from Sweet Valley High, and her own junior class was well represented. In a booth by the window, her twin was deep in conversation with Lila and Cara. Next to them, six members of the soccer team were squeezed in around John Pfeiffer, sports editor of The Oracle. Sally and Dana Larson, cousins, were just sitting down at a nearby table with plates of burgers and fries.

  Everywhere Elizabeth looked, she saw friends and familiar faces, and a warm glow of pride and happiness washed over her. It always struck her as special that although Sweet Valley was a bustling town, it somehow managed to feel small and friendly at the same time. She loved her hometown. Smiling fondly, she rested her chin in her hands and gazed off into space.

  "I know that look," Enid said, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest.

  "Oh, yeah? What look is that?"

  "The Elizabeth-Wakefield-creative-inspiration look," her friend replied with a smile.

  Elizabeth snorted. "If you only knew how un-creative I was being. I was just feeling sentimental about living in the most wonderful town in the whole world, that's all."

  "Oh, that's all!"

  At that moment Jessica rushed over to the table. "Ready to go, Liz?"

  "Oh—" Elizabeth looked questioningly at her best friend.

  "I can get a ride from the Larsons," Enid assured her. "I'll talk to you later."

  With a grateful smile, Elizabeth stood up, and gathered the proofs together. She would finish them at home that night and drop them off the next morning at Penny's. "OK. Oh, and, Enid—good luck tomorrow when your grandmother gets here. I can't wait to meet her."

  Enid's eyes shone, and she nodded happily. "Thanks. I can't wait either."

  Two

  Enid slammed the front door behind her and took the stairs two at a time. A rapid glance at her watch told her it was one-fifteen: her mother and grandmother would be back from the airport at any minute. She had stayed behind in order to make some last-minute preparations.

  Hurrying into the bathroom, she set down the packages she was carrying, then unwrapped one of them. The scent of lavender immediately filled the room as she opened the box of pretty, heart-shaped soaps she had bought at the Valley Mall that morning. She arranged them in a dainty porcelain dish by the sink.

  "Nana will like that," she said aloud, brimming with satisfaction and pride. The soaps had been expensive, but her grandmother was worth it.

  Next she picked up a tissue-wrapped bouquet of flowers—freesias, carnations, baby's breath, and three white rosebuds. Holding them up to her face, she breathed deeply, inhaling the heady fragrance. Then she arranged them carefully in a vase and took it into her old bedroom. Between the soaps and the flowers, she had just about exhausted her allowance. But the look on her grandmother's face when she saw them would be more than ample compensation.

  "There," she said, setting the vase on the bureau and looking around appraisingly. Her old room had been transformed: new curtains billowed out from the open windows, a new bedspread and new pillow shams decorated the bed, and family photographs had been arranged on the bedside table. Enid could just imagine her grandmother's pleased smile.

  With a contented sigh, Enid sank down on the bed. It was going to be so wonderful to have her grandmother there. She loved sitting and talking to her grandmother. And, of course, Nana would be home all the time, not like Mrs. Rollins, who spent so much time working. Enid and her grandmother could talk and play Scrabble and go to the movies together, anytime.

  Enid studied the room one last time. It was a pretty room, and she realized that she would miss it. But she also knew she didn't regret having to move.

  Tapping her foot impatiently, Enid checked her watch again. There must be a delay at the airport, she told herself.

  For a moment she considered taking some time to call her boyfriend, Hugh Grayson. Lately they had been having some problems with their relationship that she wanted to clear up.

  Since he went to nearby Big Mesa High School and didn't live in Sweet Valley, they couldn't see each other every day. At first, it hadn't made any difference. When they had met a few months earlier, there was an instant spark of attraction, and they had both gone out of their way to make time for each other.

  But recently it had been getting harder and harder to do. They each had their separate school activities and different circles of friends. Enid shook her head; she and Hugh definitely needed to spend some time together. But for the moment . . .