Lisa Read online

  A SECRET BROTHER-SISTER THING

  In any case, I’m starting to wonder if Peter really does still think of me as the little girl I was then, tagging along after my big brother and impressed by everything he did. I mean, we haven’t really had much of a one-on-one relationship for the past few years.… It’s almost like we don’t know each other at all these days.

  Anyway, I’m not sure how to respond to his letter. He’s probably not really expecting me to write back. I could just ask Mom if I can add a note at the end of her next letter.

  But every time I think of doing that, I remember the look on Peter’s face when he first showed me how to shift the car out of neutral. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” he told me with a wink. “It’s a secret brother-sister thing.”

  I can’t help thinking this letter should be strictly a brother-sister thing, too. Maybe it’s a chance for us to get to know each other again.

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  RL 5, 009-012

  LISA: THE INSIDE STORY

  A Bantam Skylark Book / July 1999

  Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.

  “The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.

  “USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of the United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1999 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-82593-3

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  Special thanks to Sir “B” Farms

  and Laura and Vinny Marino

  I would like to express my special thanks

  to Catherine Hapka for her help

  in the writing of this book.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  First Page

  About the Author

  Diary of Lisa Atwood

  Dear Diary,

  Page one of a new diary … what a big event! Especially since I haven’t written in months and months. I know I used to write almost every day, but somehow I’ve gotten so busy I almost forgot I ever had a diary. That’s going to change. I really want to start writing regularly again, once a week at least. That’s why I spent most of my allowance buying this new diary.

  Actually, at first I was just going to start again in my last diary. But when I dug it out of my desk drawer, I remembered one of the reasons I put it away in the first place. My brother Peter sent it to me for my birthday last year, and Peter’s so much older than I am that I guess he thinks I haven’t changed at all since he left for college. I mean, the last time we saw each other every day, I was still wearing pigtails and playing with dolls and stuffed animals, so he must have thought that diary would be right up my alley. I would never want to hurt his feelings by saying so, but I don’t think fluffy kittens with big blue eyes and bonnets on their heads were ever up my alley. I mean really!

  Anyway, that’s why I went out and bought this new diary yesterday. But the reason I got inspired to start writing again in the first place was a magazine article I read a couple of days ago. It was called “Life Journals” and it was about people who keep really good diaries. One of the people in the article was a middle-schooler like me, but most of the others were adults. The article was really interesting—a lot of the people have been keeping journals and diaries since they were kids, and they love looking back over the years and remembering their lives that way. Some keep journals all the time, while others like making scrapbooks for big vacation trips or other important events, like weddings and stuff.

  The most interesting part, though, was that a lot of the people go beyond just writing down what happened to them that day. For instance, this one woman has a big, oversized diary, sort of like a photo album. She writes in it a couple of times a week, plus she pastes in things to help her remember all the interesting things she does from day to day—she’s saved napkins from nice restaurants, movie ticket stubs, letters from friends, play programs, snapshots, even her dog’s obedience-school diploma! She’s really creative about finding ways to remember the little things that are pretty easy to forget.

  I think I want to do something like that, too. I’ll probably skip the snapshots (I have my photo album for that already), and I doubt Dolly will be getting a diploma anytime soon (though Mom keeps threatening to send her to doggy detention if she digs up the petunias one more time), but I’m going to try to paste in any other things that seem interesting and will help me remember. I can at least put in letters (not that I get that many) and maybe print out some e-mails from my friends (though I may have to edit some of the longer horse-related ones from Carole, unless I want to buy a new diary every week! Ha ha!).

  Speaking of my friends, they’re already giving me a hard time about this diary project. Naturally, as soon as I told them about it at the stable yesterday, Stevie started making jokes: “Only Lisa Atwood could come up with her own homework to do during the summer,” and so on. I know she thinks it’s crazy—the last thing Stevie would ever do is volunteer for more homework—but in a way she’s right. I’ve been feeling like my brain is starting to rot from underuse this summer, and this should be a fun and interesting way to keep myself occupied.

  As for Carole—she doesn’t have anything against diaries, since she’s kept one herself from time to time. But of course she thinks mine should be all about horses. She couldn’t believe I didn’t get one with a picture of a horse on the cover!

  Still, whoever said best friends always have to think alike? It’s not like there’s ever been much danger of that with the three of us. Since the first day we all met at Pine Hollow Stables, I’ve known that Carole Hanson is the horse-craziest person on the planet. I’ve also known that Stevie Lake can’t be serious about anything for more than two seconds, especially if it’s got anything to do with school. Despite all that, somehow we manage to work pretty well together as a team. I’m sure The Saddle Club has something to do with it. Ever since we started it, it’s just seemed natural that we all have our own different, unique personalities and yet we fit together so perfectly. I used to think The Saddle Club should have more than two rules, but I’ve changed my mind. I think the two we have are just perfect—members have to be horse-crazy, and they have to be willing to help each other. That leaves a lot of room for us to include different people.


  Anyway, I’m getting away from the point here, which is that I’m really excited about this diary/scrapbook idea, no matter how much my friends tease me about it. For one thing, it will be good practice in case I decide to become a newspaper reporter or some other kind of writer someday, like my English teacher kept saying I should. For another, it will give me something really nice to look back on in the future. I’m definitely going to try to write at least once a week for the whole summer … although this new diary is so nice and fat it will probably last me all the way through high school!

  So here goes—my first weekly entry. Unfortunately it’s been kind of a slow week. Not much is happening other than the usual stuff. Prancer, my favorite new horse at Pine Hollow, seems to be getting better every day. Max isn’t letting anyone ride her, of course, because her injured leg is still weak, but her sweet personality is as healthy as ever. Carole is still working hard at training her horse, Starlight. They’ve been spending a lot of time jumping lately. Stevie has been trying to teach Topside to nod his head when she says yes, but it’s not working so far. Max says it’s because he’s a sensible horse and not a circus performer, but naturally Stevie isn’t giving up. In other words, things at Pine Hollow are pretty normal. My friends and I spend tons of time there, going to lessons and Pony Club meetings and taking trail rides together. And of course we’ve been spending plenty of time at TD’s, our favorite ice cream place, as well. Yesterday Stevie ordered marshmallow topping and pineapple chunks on rum raisin, and I thought the waitress was going to dump it over her head when she brought it to the table. Boy, if that’s the most interesting thing I can come up with to write about, I guess my life must be pretty boring!!!

  Let’s see, what else? Mom and Dad are the same as always. Peter called home the other day from England, but I was at the stable so I didn’t get to talk to him. Mom told me his college in London just finished for the year and he’s planning to spend the next couple of months traveling around Europe. Sounds like fun! Maybe if I could do something like that, I’d have more interesting things to write about …

  FROM: LAtwood

  TO: Steviethegreat

  TO: HorseGal

  SUBJECT: Where can it be?

  MESSAGE:

  Well, Mrs. Reg still hasn’t called. Maybe she hasn’t noticed yet. Either way, I feel as guilty as can be! Are you sure we looked everywhere? Never mind—I’m sure. I just keep thinking a pin can’t disappear into thin air!!! It’s all my fault … Aargh!

  Dear Diary,

  I thought about not pasting in the above e-mail because I feel so terrible about what happened. But all those people in that article talk about how they like to record everything, good and bad. They claim that after a few years, they often look back on the bad stuff just as fondly as they do the good. I doubt that’s going to be the case here, but I figure I might as well follow their lead and try to record everything. Besides, it’s not like anyone but me will ever see this. And since it’s almost eleven o’clock and I can’t sleep, I might as well write. Right?

  It’s Monday night. Today started out nice and boring and fun, just like last week. I can’t believe I ever complained about my life being like that! I miss it now, that’s for sure.

  Anyway, after jump class and our Pony Club trail ride, I had stable chores to do as usual. One of the things my friends and I were assigned to do was to check the hay in the loft for mold and mildew. Since that’s such an important job—moldy hay can make horses really sick, and it can also start fires—I went to tell Max when we finished. I couldn’t find him, but I found his mother, Mrs. Reg, which was just as good since she helps run the stable. She was on the phone when I got to her office, so I waited around for a couple of minutes until she finished her call.

  One of the first things I noticed when she hung up was that she looked kind of serious. I guessed it had something to do with her phone call, and it made me feel a little embarrassed about almost eavesdropping (even though I hadn’t actually heard anything). As I was thinking that, I suddenly noticed something shiny on the desk.

  “What’s that?” I asked Mrs. Reg.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?” she said with a smile. “Go ahead, pick it up.”

  I did, and I saw that it wasn’t just pretty—it was beautiful. It was a gold pin of a galloping horse with a diamond for an eye. Mrs. Reg told me her husband had given it to her long ago.

  “It would be our fortieth wedding anniversary this week,” she explained as I admired the pin. “It was his wedding present for me.”

  That made the pin seem even more special. I was sure Carole and Stevie would love it just as much as I did, so I asked if I could borrow it for a minute to show them.

  “Sure,” Mrs. Reg said. “I have to talk with Max about something. If I’m not here when you bring it back, just put it in my center drawer, okay?”

  “Okay,” I promised. “Thanks.” I really appreciated her trust in me.

  Holding the pin carefully, I hurried to the locker area, where Stevie and Carole were already changing out of their riding clothes. They were probably wondering where I was—Stevie gets really impatient when she thinks we’re late for a Saddle Club meeting at TD’s—but they forgot everything else when they saw the pin.

  “Oh, the diamond is so perfect!” Stevie exclaimed. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could have a pin like this for The Saddle Club?”

  I didn’t know about that. I loved Mrs. Reg’s pin, but I also love our club pins. They’re silver horse heads, and they’re just right for us.

  Before I could say so, Carole started raving about the conformation of the horse on the pin, pointing out that it looked like it was supposed to be an Arabian.

  That made Veronica diAngelo, who was also in the locker area, look up and take notice. Normally Veronica doesn’t bother to pay attention to us at all, unless she’s saying something snobby like how expensive her new riding boots are or which upper-crust member of Willow Creek society her family had dinner with the night before. But her horse, Garnet, is a purebred Arabian, so she came over to see what we were doing.

  We didn’t have much choice but to show her the pin. While she was looking at it, the ruckus began.

  At first there was just a sort of skittering sound, followed by an unmistakable squeak. Before we knew it, one of the stable cats came racing by in hot pursuit of a mouse.

  Veronica jumped onto the bench, screaming bloody murder. The rest of us might have laughed—who could really be afraid of a tiny, furry creature like a mouse?—but a second or two after the cat chased the mouse out the door, we all heard a frightened whinny.

  “Come on!” Carole said, racing for the door.

  She didn’t have to say it twice. I’d already realized what was happening. The chase had ended up in or near Prancer’s stall. Prancer is a wonderful horse, but like all horses—especially high-strung Thoroughbreds—she has her quirks. One of them is a fear of cats.

  To make a long story short, we managed to oust the cat from the stall, calm Prancer, and shoo the mouse outside, safe and sound. After that bit of excellent teamwork, we decided it was past time to head to TD’s and celebrate.

  So we did. But we’d hardly taken our seats in our favorite booth when I realized I had no idea what had happened to Mrs. Reg’s pin. We raced back to Pine Hollow and searched the locker area, but there was no sign of it. I even called Veronica at her house to see if she knew where it had gone.

  “Pin … pin …,” Veronica said when I asked her about it. “I don’t know. I think I threw the darn thing at the cat.”

  That wasn’t much help. I hung up, a sinking feeling in my stomach, just in time to see Max coming toward me. At first I thought he might be mad because I’d used the office phone without permission. But he was in a good mood and let it slide.

  “Isn’t it time for you to get home now?” he asked me. “We want you rested for tomorrow’s jump class. You’re doing very well, you know.”

  “Thanks,” I said, pleased in spite of my w
orry. Max is a fantastic riding teacher, and he does a terrific job running the whole stable. He’s so busy he doesn’t have much time to hand out compliments, so when he does, it really means something.

  Still, part of me felt worse than ever at his nice words. If he only knew that I had just lost his mother’s beloved pin …

  DU BUREAU DE MADAME SMITH

  Mademoiselle Lisa, what a wonderful essay on the Eiffel Tower! You have such a fine command of the French language already, after less than a year of study. Keep up the good work! Bien fait!

  Dear Diary,

  I just found that note from Madame Smith last week when I was cleaning out my last year’s notebooks, and I thought I’d stick it in for moral support. I just hope I can remember everything I learned in her class when I meet the French ambassador tomorrow! Anyway, there’s lots to write about—it’s amazing how much can happen in two short days!—but I’m too exhausted to write another paragraph tonight. I’ll have to describe this busy, busy week sometime when I can keep my eyes open.

  Dear Diary,

  I really wish I hadn’t used such strong glue to stick in that note from Madame Smith! I feel so stupid about what happened—today is definitely not a day I’m going to want to look back on and remember.

  I’m just as exhausted tonight as I’ve been this whole exhausting week. I can’t believe it’s only Thursday—it feels like months have passed since Mrs. Reg’s pin disappeared! But tomorrow afternoon feels all too close. That’s when she comes back and finds out it’s lost. I guess that’s why I’m too nervous to sleep. Even though my eyelids feel like they have lead weights attached to them, every time I let them close, I start worrying about where the pin could be and what Mrs. Reg is going to say, and then I’m wide awake again. So I might as well write down what’s been happening …