Stuck With the Grumpy Single Dad

1. Prologue Mabel

Prologue: Mabel

[ Nineteen Years Ago]

August 19, 2005

Dear Danny,

I know it’s not very brave of me to put this in a letter, especially since we literally just saw each other two weeks ago, but I finally found the courage to say this, so I might as well just get it out into the open somehow. Anyway, it’s easier to confess big feelings in writing, don’t you think? That’s what my mom calls things like love and hate and jealousy—big feelings.

My point is… I love you. Is that weird? Maybe you’ll think it’s stupid because I’m only fourteen and there’s no way I could know what love is, but you’re only fifteen, so it’s not like you really know any better than I do.

I’ve had a crush on you for the past three summers, Danny. Ever since the first day we met. I like the way you laugh even when my jokes aren’t that funny. I like the way you always agree with me about things, like how blue raspberry is the best Airheads flavor, and salt and vinegar chips are disgusting. I like that you let your little sister braid your bangs and wore the hairstyle proudly when you went to go play soccer with the boys.

You’re really nice, Danny. I don’t know what else to say except for that. And I know we go to different schools, but maybe if you also love me, we could work something out? I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but I still think I’d be a really good girlfriend.

Anyway, I’ll be up to visit my Aunt Sue again next summer. Will you wait for me? Let me know.

Yours truly,

Maple Leaf

With shaking hands, I seal the envelope, double-check the address on the front, and slip the letter into the mail slot at the Mermaid Shores Post Office.

I wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my denim shorts as I turn away and head toward the beach where my friends are waiting for me. In two weeks, I’ll start my freshman year of high school. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll know if Danny Marston loves me back before then. Maybe, when I walk through those doors on the first day of school, I won’t just be Mabel Lee. I’ll be somebody’s girlfriend.

** *

August 24, 2005

Dear Maple Leaf,

I feel really bad for telling you this, but I also couldn’t bring myself to let your letter go unanswered. Actually, I probably shouldn’t have even read the letter in the first place. I think that’s illegal. Please don’t tell the cops.

This isn’t Danny. Maybe you already guessed that from the handwriting. Me and my mom just moved into his old house. The landlord said Mr. Marston got stationed overseas and the whole family decided to go with him. Germany, I think. I’m new to town and I don’t know anybody, otherwise, I’d try to figure out how to forward your letter to him.

I’m sorry I read those personal things you told him. I’m sorry you’re in love with a boy who lives in Europe now. I bet he loves you back, if it helps. You seem like a really great girl.

Anyway, since I know something personal about you, I’ll balance the scales and tell you something personal about me. I’m fifteen years old, going into my sophomore year. I’m from a really small town near the Canadian border, but my mom and I just moved here because she’s got family in town and she really needs to be around family right now, considering my dad just died.

That feels weird to write down. My dad died. It happened about a month ago. Heart attack. He was at work and then he just collapsed, I guess. He worked for a landscaping company, planting roses for rich people and stuff like that.

I feel like the worst person alive for saying this, but my dad and I weren’t very close. He wasn’t very nice to me or my mom. He never got violent, but he liked to drink a lot, and then sometimes he’d say really mean stuff. I don’t know. My mom asked me if I want to go see a therapist to talk about it, but I know she can’t really afford something like that, so I’m dealing with it the only way I know how… by reading other people’s mail and writing letters to strangers.

That’s probably way more information than you ever wanted to learn about a random boy you don’t know. Sorry.

Sorry about Danny, too.

Also, I totally get it if you don’t write back. I just wanted to make sure you knew that Danny didn’t ignore your letter or whatever.

Sincerely,

Cal

I stare at the letter in my hands. I ran to my bedroom the second I snatched it out of the mailbox, but I should’ve known something wasn’t right the moment I saw the handwriting. Danny definitely doesn’t write that neatly.

It’s a lot to process. Danny is gone. Danny lives in Germany now. Danny never told me that his family was going to join their dad in Europe at the end of the summer.

And this boy… Cal. He lives in Danny’s house now. The old white house with green shutters on Applewood Lane. Cal is the same age as Danny. The same year in school. Does he play soccer, too? Does he like blue raspberry Airheads? Does he think I’m totally pathetic for being in love with a boy who didn’t even tell me he was moving to the other side of the Atlantic?

I reread the letter about fifteen times, especially the part about his dad. I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling. I should reply, shouldn’t I? It’s good manners to give my condolences, right?

Instead, I shove the letter into one of my desk drawers and walk away.

A week later, however, I find it again. This time, after deciding against replying, I hide it between the pages of my diary.

Then, another week later, I find myself rereading it again. I can’t get Cal out of my head. I can’t shake this curiosity to know more about him.

***

September 13, 2005

Dear Cal,

Hi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m beyond embarrassed that you read my letter to Danny, but I’m not mad at you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Feds.

I’m really sorry about your dad. I hope you and your mom are doing okay. I don’t really know what to say when things like this happen, and you don’t even know me, but just know that I’m not judging you for having complicated thoughts about it all.

I’m sorry your dad wasn’t very nice. I’m sorry for your mom, too.

Is it okay if I tell you about my parents? They’re really cool. My dad is a firefighter. His job is really dangerous, and sometimes I worry about him, but he’s really brave and never hesitates to help people. My mom is a chef. She used to work at a fancy restaurant on Nantucket, but she hated taking the ferry all time, so now she works at a different fancy restaurant in Barnstable. She really wants to open her own catering company, though.

Oh, gosh. Wait. I just realized that it’s not very nice of me to tell you how great my parents are literally two seconds after me writing how sorry I am that your dad wasn’t so great. Maybe I should just cross that whole paragraph out. Or maybe I should just throw this letter away and start over again. I could be acting dramatic, though. Let me know. Actually, wait. You don’t have to let me know. You don’t have to write me back at all. I just felt like I needed to tell you that I’m sorry for what you’re going through, and I hope you like your new town and your new school and stuff like that.

Okay, bye,

Maple Leaf

Is it weird that I used Danny’s nickname for me again? Should I correct him and tell him that my actual name isn’t really Maple Leaf? That it’s just an inside joke, because when I first introduced myself to Danny as Mabel Lee, he misheard me?

Maybe I don’t want Cal to know my real name. Not because I’m worried he’s a creep. It’s just that it feels kind of nice that Cal doesn’t know anything about me. Mermaid Shores is a small town. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. A secret can’t last an hour in this place. But to Cal, I’m just some random girl from Cape Cod. In his eyes, I could be anyone I want to be. I can decide what he knows about me.

In the end, I choose not to think too hard about it and send the letter. After all, who knows if he’ll even respond?

** *

October 1, 2005

Dear Maple,

I meant to answer your letter sooner, but I’ve been busy with homework and cross-country practice and stuff like that. Thanks for being so nice to me about my dad. Don’t worry. You didn’t upset me by telling me how cool your parents are. They seem really nice.

My new school is fine, I guess. I’m not very good at school. Not that I’m stupid or anything like that. It’s just that I don’t really like sitting still for long periods of time. I prefer to work with my hands. I guess I like science class the most because of that. I’m taking physics this year, which means we get to learn about engineering and build a ton of things. Maybe I’ll study engineering in college. I don’t know. Is it weird that I’m already thinking about college? I’m not even sure if I want to go. Like, if I suck at things like reading books and taking tests, college probably isn’t going to be very fun for me.

Sorry for rambling. Do you like school? I bet you’re crazy smart. I bet you like English class the most, since you’re the type of girl who writes love letters to boys who live hundreds of miles away. Ha ha.

Do you play sports? I run cross-country in the fall and do track in the spring. Running is pretty much the only sport I can do. My hand-eye coordination isn’t great.

Sincerely ,

Cal

***

October 17, 2005

Dear Cal,

I’m not “crazy smart” at all. School is okay, I guess. I do alright in my classes, but I get in trouble a lot because I talk too much. Oops. You’re right, though. English class is my favorite. We’re reading To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee . I like it a lot.

Also, I’m sorry to tell you, but I don’t play sports. I’m a theatre kid. Auditions for the fall play were last week, but I haven’t heard back yet about what part I got.

Anyway, do you have any siblings? I always wanted a little sibling, but…

***

November 28, 2005

…and by the way, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Sincerely,

Cal

***

January 4, 2006

Cal,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Being sixteen must be really cool. Are you going to get your driver’s license? I can’t wait to drive, even though this town is so small I can walk basically everywhere.

Anyway, I have some bad news. Aunt Sue decided to sell the cabin and move down to Florida, so I won’t be coming up to Maine this summer, but it’s okay because it just means I get to keep being cool and mysterious and anonymous…

***

July 30, 2006

Maple,

Listen, I agree with you about salt and vinegar chips, and I’m so glad because I swear, I felt like the only person on this planet who hates them. It’s the smell that really bothers me the most…

***

August 11, 2006

…WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T LIKE AIRHEADS!?

You’re insane.

Sincerely,

Maple

***

December 27, 2006

…and I can’ t really believe that this is the second time I’m wishing you a happy new year. We’ve been pen pals for so long. Is it dorky if I think you might be one of my best friends?

Best,

Cal

P.S. I enclosed a pressed maple leaf for you. I meant to put it in my last letter, but I forgot.

***

June 12, 2007

Cal,

Good luck on the SATs. I know how much you hate taking tests. I’ll spend all day Saturday keeping my fingers crossed and sending good vibes up to Maine for you…

***

October 20, 2007

Maple,

I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anybody else yet. I don’t want to go to college. There’s this carpentry apprenticeship that I’m a lot more interested in. I think it could be cool, but I know everyone is going to be disappointed. Lindsay thinks I mailed in my application to UMaine at the same time she did. She’s a lot smarter than I am, but she’s nice enough to act like that’s not true…

***

February 29, 2008

Cal,

Happy leap day!

Except, maybe I shouldn’t be saying “happy” anything. I’m really sorry Lindsay broke up with you. I get that she was upset you lied to her about college and all of that, but surely you two could still work it out? I could write her a letter and vouch for you…

***

June 8, 2008

…and it’s genuinely the weirdest feeling in the world to know that I’m officially a high school graduate now. My apprenticeship starts next month, and I don’t really know what to do with myself until then. I guess I’ll go running in the woods. Help my mom with the chores. Write letters to you. Same old, same old.

Best,

Cal

***

September 26, 2008

Cal,

I’ve decided I love being a senior. I feel so mature and capable. It’s all an illusion, though. As soon as we graduate in the spring, we’ll be stumbling around like babies all over again. I still haven’t decided if I’m applying to college. Mom wants me to consider a few programs at the local community college, but Dad thinks I should go all the way and apply for Emerson’s literature program. I don’t know. I kind of just want to stay in Mermaid Shores and work at the Siren & Sword and relax by the beach. Does that make me lazy? Sometimes I wonder if there’s something a little bit wrong with me because I don’t have huge, wild dreams like some of the other people in this town…

***

August 25, 2009

Dear Maple Leaf,

Happy four-year pen pal anniversary! Do you ever think that maybe we should join the modern world and switch to email? I don’t know. I kind of like writing letters the old school way…

***

March 21, 2010

Cal,

I know it’s been ages since we last wrote to each other, but I was just thinking about you the other day and wanted to see how you’re doing…

***

April 16, 2010

…like, nobody told us how hard it would be to keep in touch with friends in adulthood. Why is life so busy? Why do we work so much? Is it ever going to end? Is this it? Do we just work and work and work until we retire and eventually die? Is twenty-one years old too young to have an existential crisis?

Tell me I’m not losing my mind, please.

Best,

Cal

P.S. I have good news. I think. It’s still new, but Lindsay and I got back together. Here’s to hoping I don’t mess it up this time.