What Maisie Knew: 45. The Low Profile Returns

Our two visitors started shifting anxiously in their seats. I couldn't imagine what was on their minds.

"Uh, one reason we came over—"

"...if you don't mind..."

What Maisie Knew: A Marcie Donner Story, by Kaleigh Way

 
45. The Low Profile Returns

 

Maybe Misty had warned Mrs. Wix and Ms. Overmore that my Dad didn't know about her, but in any case, as soon as they saw him, the two immediately switched gears.

Mrs. Wix told my father about Sister Honororia's leaving – which he already knew — and said it was because of her brother's role in my kidnapping. He already knew that, too, but it left him to infer that our crying had something to do with... well, with something, somewhere in that bundle of information. At least he could feel that we didn't need him to do anything.

Still, the next thing she said was a total surprise. She told us that Ms. Overmore was going to be the new principal! "She'll be the first principal who isn't a nun in the history of the school!" Mrs. Wix announced proudly.

Ms. Overmore, in her turn, as part of the new old-friends mutual-admiration society, said, "They did ask you first, though."

"And you said no?" I asked.

Mrs. Wix smiled. "I'm taking a sabbatical year. I need some time to look at my life. I've been so closed up and inside myself ever since Misty died — which means my whole adult life. You may not realize this, Marcie, but I'm still pretty young, and I've been hiding under a rock all these years. I've got to shake myself! I need to go places and do things."

"You need to get your groove back, girl!" Ms. Overmore joked.

"Well, good for you!" I said. (It seemed like the right thing to say.)

Mom said some encouraging things as well, and then our two visitors started shifting anxiously in their seats. I couldn't imagine what was on their minds.

"Uh, one reason we came over—"

"...if you don't mind..."

"We were hoping you'd let us see the house a little bit..."

"...if we're not intruding."

My mother was only too happy to oblige. She explained, much to my embarrassment, that Maisie — my Maisie — — had done a great deal of the work, and pointed out many specific examples.

The room they mainly wanted to see, it turned out, was my bedroom. They oohed and aahed, and loved everything. "It's so different from how it used to be!" Mrs. Wix exclaimed. "This used to be our room — Misty's and mine — and now one girl lives in it alone!"

"The three of us spent hours here – years," Ms. Overmore declared. "A lot of it camped on the floor of the dressing room."

They were both astonished at how small the dressing room was. They both declared that they "remembered it being much larger."


After the tour, we had a late cup of tea, and then our visitors took their leave.

"I'm so glad you knew Misty," Mrs. Wix told me, her eyes shining. "She was a lovely person, a wonderful sister, and a very good friend. Now, thanks to you and Susan she's moved on to a better place, and Yvette and I have patched up a good old friendship gone bad." She gave me an awkward, if enthusiastic, hug, followed by a kiss on both cheeks from Ms. Overmore.

The two went off, arm in arm, into the Christmas evening.

Mom put her arms around me, apparently oblivious to the cold outside air. She rested her chin on the top of my head and started talking, "Oh, Marcie. Life has been one crazy adventure after another ever since you became a girl. As frightening and stressful as it gets, though, I don't know whether I'd want it any other way. I mean, look at all the good you've done," and she gestured with her hand at the retreating figures of my high-school teachers. "Even though you were in awful danger, you kept your head and came through, and put a bad man behind bars, where he belongs."

I heaved a big sigh, and said, "Yeah, but this time really did it for me. I am SO through with any kind of action or adventures. From now on I'm going to live a quiet life, and REALLY keep a low profile for once."

Mom held me in silence for a moment, then I realized she was shaking. I turned my head and saw that she was stifling a laugh. When I frowned in distress, the laugh just burst out of her.

"Oh, Marcie! I'll believe that when I see it!"

I rolled my eyes. Mothers!


This is the end of What Maisie Knew


 

© 2007 by Kaleigh Way



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