Mia's Golden Bird Read online

  For my birding friends, Margie and Dolores

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Preview

  About the Author

  Also by Lisa Schroeder

  Copyright

  A box had arrived in the mail for Mia.

  Not just any old box, but a box from one of Mia’s best friends, Caitlin, whom she’d met at summer camp a few months ago.

  Mia’s hands shook with excitement as she opened the box. Inside she found a large baggie of homemade cookies, a letter, and something small wrapped in tissue paper. Her heartbeat quickened. She slowly peeled back the tissue, wondering if it might be the one thing she was really hoping for.

  When she saw the charm bracelet, Mia let out a little squeal. Caitlin had chosen her to wear it next! She pulled the bracelet out of the paper completely and whispered, “Awesome,” as she fingered the cute flower charm Caitlin had picked out. The bracelet no longer looked sad and lonely, the way it had the last time she saw it at camp. Like a dog without a bone, Hannah had said.

  The thought made Mia smile.

  She fastened it on her wrist and just like every other time one of the Cabin 7 girls had put on the bracelet, a camp memory came to mind.

  In Mia’s memory, the four girls, Mia, Caitlin, Libby, and Hannah, had just gotten back from a trail ride. It was the first time Mia had ever been on a horse, and she’d enjoyed it up until the point where her horse, Jet, had stepped on a wasps’ nest in the ground and gotten stung. All Mia had known at that point was that Jet flew off the trail and through the woods, giving his name new meaning. Mia had held on tightly, but when she had to duck to avoid a low branch, she lost her balance and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

  She was okay, thankfully. But the barn wasn’t exactly close by, so she’d had to get back on the horse and continue to ride the trail. Mia’s three friends had been so kind and caring once they’d finally reached the end of the ride.

  “Are you terribly sore?” Libby had asked her with her sweet British accent. “Shall we carry you to the cabin?”

  Hannah, her southern friend, had given Libby a funny look. “Carry her? What is she, a sack of potatoes?”

  Caitlin had stepped in and said, “Here, Mia. Put your arm around my shoulder and lean on me. Hannah, you’re closest to Mia’s size, get on the other side of her and do the same.”

  Mia had started to resist but changed her mind. They’d really wanted to help her, and so she had let them. Once they were back at the cabin, her friends had insisted she rest on her bunk until dinnertime. The next day, the soreness really hit. Fortunately, the camp nurse gave her ibuprofen, and it had helped with the pain over the next couple of days.

  Now, Mia sighed. It was so nice to have a strong memory of camp, even if it wasn’t her most favorite one because of the silly fall. She missed Camp Brookridge. More than anything, she missed her friends. Especially right now, when all of her friends at home were busy doing things Mia couldn’t do. She looked down at the walking cast she wore and stuck her tongue out at the stupid thing. No soccer. No surfing. No nothing, it seemed like. How ridiculous that she’d fallen off a horse and managed to not break anything and yet, when she fell off a simple step stool at the café a couple of weeks ago, she’d landed funny and fractured a bone in her foot.

  As she nibbled on a cookie that tasted like cinnamon, she read Caitlin’s letter. She smiled, reading about how Caitlin had wanted to send a fruit pizza — which the girls had fallen in love with at camp — to cheer Mia up. It would have been too messy though, so she’d sent cookies instead. Caitlin wrote about making new friends and being in the school play with them.

  It was good to hear that Caitlin seemed happy after a rough start at her new school. When Mia got to the part in the letter about the bracelet, she forced herself to read it slowly.

  I hope you enjoy wearing the bracelet and the flower charm. Pretty flowers are like my Cabin 7 BFFs — they brighten up my life so much.

  I know you’re dying to know if the bracelet is lucky. I think you’ll have to find out for yourself. I can say this: I feel super lucky to have so many great friends, and you are one of them.

  Be happy! Remember, sometimes awesome shows up when you least expect it. I know it’s your favorite word, so I hope you get a whole bunch of awesome real soon!

  Love,

  Caitlin

  So Mia would get no clue at all as to whether the bracelet was really lucky. Oh well. She actually felt better than she had in weeks, simply by wearing it, so that was something.

  She stuffed the cookies back in the box, grabbed her camera, and went out to the kitchen. Her mom sat at the kitchen table with a bunch of paperwork in front of her and looking a little frazzled, her long black hair piled high on her head in a messy bun.

  “Look, Mamá. Caitlin, one of my camp friends, sent me cookies. Do you want one?”

  “How nice,” her mother replied. “Sí. I’d love to try one.”

  Mia put a few cookies on a plate, poured some milk for the two of them, and sat down across from her mom who was studying a piece of paper in front of her.

  “You don’t look very happy,” Mia said as she picked up her glass of milk. “Everything okay?”

  Her mother nibbled on a cookie. “Mmm. Delicioso.” She looked at Mia. “Paying bills is not very fun. Times like these, I really miss your father. It’s much easier to have someone to share the responsibilities with.”

  Mia nodded, although she couldn’t really understand what it was like for her mom. Not really. It had been just the two of them for as long as she could remember. Her father, who had been a marine, went to Afghanistan shortly after Mia was born. He never came home. She was only four years old when she had attended his funeral.

  “I thought the café was doing well,” Mia said, taking another cookie.

  “Fairly well,” her mom said. “The cost of supplies has gone up though. And the tourist season will start to wind down now. It’s always a bit harder in the winter.” Her mother shook her head. “Todo está bien. I shouldn’t talk about this with you, Mia. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Mia said. “I don’t mind. And I want you to know I’m going to find a way to help pay for camp again next summer. I don’t know how yet, exactly, but hopefully something will come up.”

  “We need another set of twins born in the neighborhood,” her mother teased.

  Last spring, Mia had helped their neighbor, Mrs. McNair, every afternoon after school. Mrs. McNair had given birth to twins and already had two older children to care for. Mia went over and played with the older children or helped with laundry or whatever else Mrs. McNair needed until her husband, a professor at a nearby university, got home from work. “A mother’s helper” was what Mrs. McNair had called the position. She’d paid her well, and Mia had used all of her money to pay for more than half of the camp fees.

  She worked for her mother at the café sometimes too, usually on the weekends, but that money was put into a savings account for college.

  “I’ll figure
it out,” Mia said, her insides twisting into a knot as she thought about it. What if she didn’t come up with a way to make some money? What if she had to stay home next summer, while the rest of her cabin friends returned without her?

  Her mother interrupted her anxious thoughts by reaching out and touching the bracelet on Mia’s wrist.

  “Muy bonito. Did your friend send that along as well?”

  Mia nodded. “I know, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? The four of us bought it in a fun little shop during our field trip at camp. We’re taking turns wearing it.”

  Her mother stood up. “That is sweet. Good friends are a treasure. We must always remember that. Now, I’m going to make us some dinner.” She pointed to the camera. “Are you going to the beach?”

  “Just for a little while, if that’s okay.”

  Her mother nodded. “You’ve been off your foot for most of the day, so I suppose a little walk is fine. Take it easy though. And please be back in thirty minutes.”

  Mia kissed her mother on the cheek and then hobbled to the front door, her camera in hand. Maybe she couldn’t get in the ocean, but at least she could still look at it.

  It was a beautiful fall day — warm and sunny with a slight breeze. It reminded Mia how, at camp, Caitlin had asked if it was true what they said about Southern California and its perfect weather. Mia had told her it was absolutely true. Though it was also true that Southern California had some of the worst traffic anywhere. That fact didn’t affect Mia much, however, since she could walk to the beach from her house. She thought about how thankful she was to be able to do just that as she slowly made her way down the sidewalk and toward the access trail.

  Mia had probably been to the beach near the small cottage where she lived more than a thousand times over the years. She never grew tired of it. Never grew tired of searching the sand for shells and special rocks or taking photos of the sea and the sky and trying to capture the beauty as she looked out at the horizon. It was only recently that her mother finally let Mia come here alone, with her camera and cell phone. She wouldn’t ever be allowed to surf alone, of course. Too dangerous. But wandering the beach by herself to take photos or whatever was something Mia had begged to do for a long time.

  Because it was just the two of them living in the cottage, Mia sometimes felt smothered. It’d been hard for her mom to let Mia go off to camp all the way across the country, to New Hampshire, but Mia never gave up, and finally, her mom had agreed. It was often a tug-of-war between the two of them, her mother wanting to keep Mia close and safe and Mia seeking independence any way she could get it.

  The soft sand was hard for Mia to walk in with her walking cast, so she made her way closer to the water, where the sand was firm from the waves hitting it over and over again. Once there, she searched the sand for treasures, her thoughts still focused on her mother, who had worked so hard all of these years to support the two of them. She was thankful for everything her mom did for her. It could have been much worse, and she knew that. Still, sometimes she couldn’t help but be envious of her friends, who had it a lot easier than she did in the money department. Worrying about finances and whether she could get to camp again next year was about as much fun as wearing a walking cast.

  Up ahead, Mia saw a couple of her friends, Salina and Josie. They waved, and she waved back. Mia took her camera and snapped a photo of them walking toward her, the ocean on one side of them and the sandy beach on the other.

  Salina was one of the prettiest girls in sixth grade. Tall, dark, and lean, with one of the nicest smiles Mia had ever seen, Mia had always thought her friend could become a model, if she wanted to. Of course, Salina always laughed it off when someone told her that. Salina was a straight-A student and dreamed of medical school someday. Josie was strong and athletic, like Mia. And she was funny. The three girls had been friends for a long time. So long, that Mia couldn’t even remember a time when they weren’t a part of her life.

  When Salina and Josie reached her, Mia asked, “Hey. What are you guys up to?”

  “We’re heading up to Gill’s,” Salina said. Gill’s, a diner by the beach that had been around forever, was known far and wide for their fresh strawberry shakes and their sweet potato fries. Just the thought of fries and a milk shake made Mia’s stomach rumble.

  “A bunch of us from the team are meeting there for dinner,” Josie told her. “You know, to celebrate our win this morning. Aren’t you coming?”

  Mia shook her head. “No. Nobody told me.”

  “You left so fast after the game, we probably didn’t have a chance,” Josie said. “Where’d you go, anyway? Your mom take you out for your favorite breakfast, pigs in a bunk bed?”

  This was a running joke with the girls. Every time they saw “pigs in a bunk bed” on the menu of their favorite breakfast place, they laughed about it. The first time, it had been Josie who’d said, “I can just see little pigs, lying on bunk beds, covered in pancakes to keep them warm.” The dish was delicious yet simple — sausages nestled within the layers of pancakes.

  Mia smiled as she replied, “Nope. No pigs in a bunk bed for me. My mom had to get to work. Anyway, it was a great game. You guys were really awesome. Not that I need to tell you that.”

  Now Josie smiled. “Thanks. We were pretty awesome, weren’t we?” She held her hand up to Salina and they high-fived.

  Mia waited for her friends to say they missed having her on the field with them. Or that it would have been even more awesome if she’d been playing. Something. Anything that let her know she was still an important part of the team, even if she couldn’t exactly be a part of the team right now. At least, not in the way that it mattered. But they didn’t say anything.

  “Well,” Mia said softly, “guess I should let you guys go. Don’t want you to be late or whatever.”

  “You can come if you want,” Salina said, tucking her thick, wavy hair behind her ears. “It’s no big deal.”

  Mia didn’t like feeling as if she were a second thought. If they hadn’t run into her, would they have even missed having her there? She imagined everyone sharing stories about the game and talking about plays she hadn’t been involved in. She wouldn’t have a thing to say, really. On the other hand: a milk shake and sweet potato fries. Not to mention a chance to hang out with her friends, which she hadn’t done much lately.

  As she glanced down, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, her eyes landed on the stupid cast. She’d have to hobble along beside them, all the way to Gill’s.

  “Thanks, but I can’t,” she said, looking back up at her friends. “My mom’s making dinner right now. I should probably get home. You guys have fun though. And have a strawberry shake for me.”

  Was that relief she saw on their faces? Mia wondered.

  “Okay,” Josie said. “See ya later.”

  “Yeah. Later.”

  As the two girls continued down the beach, Mia started to take another picture but changed her mind. Her pictures were supposed to cheer her up, not depress her. And watching them walk away without her, to have fun with the team, celebrating a win Mia hadn’t really been a part of, definitely would not cheer her up.

  When she got home, her mom told her to get a plate and dish up. She’d made rice and beans and heated up some tamales from the batch she’d cooked yesterday. Mia sat quietly, eating, while her mom talked about an article she’d just read about how a couple of cups of coffee a day are good for you. Because of the café, coffee always seemed to be on her mother’s mind.

  After dinner, Mia went to her room and flipped through her CD collection. This is what she did when she was feeling down, because dancing in her room, by herself, always made her feel better. She went back and forth, trying to decide between a boy band from Australia called Underground Bliss, and her favorite actor/singer from the Whimzy channel, Levi Vincent.

  She decided to go with Levi Vincent. She loved his voice so much. And man, was he cute.

  As she started to move and groove, the weig
ht of her cast was noticeable once again. Not only that, her foot was starting to hurt a little bit, after walking to and from the beach. She tried to ignore it. Tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that she could stand still and dance.

  But it just wasn’t the same.

  She plopped down on her bed with a big sigh, the charm bracelet poking her hand as she landed on it.

  “You need to bring me some luck,” Mia whispered, fingering the pretty flower charm. “Soon. Really, really soon.”

  Six out of seven days, Mia’s mom had someone else open the café early in the morning. This allowed her to see Mia off to school during the week and attend activities like soccer games on Saturday mornings. But Sunday mornings, both Mia and her mother woke up early so they could open the café by six.

  It hadn’t always been this way. The café used to be closed on Sundays, but her mom finally decided she couldn’t miss out on the revenue a second weekend day would bring, especially during tourist season.

  So for the past few years, it had become part of Mia’s weekly routine. She worked side by side with her mother, serving customers or helping to bake muffins in the back. But when Mia got her walking cast, the doctor had told Mia she should be careful to not overdo it and to stay off the foot as much as possible. Her mother had insisted this meant no more working at the café until the cast came off. Mia still wanted to go along with her mom though, just in case it got busy and she needed her. She didn’t tell her mom this, of course. Instead, Mia told her she liked the coziness of the café and it was as good of a place as any to put her feet up and read or do homework. This particular Sunday, she decided she wanted to work on putting together a scrapbook of camp photos.

  Earlier in the week, Mia and her mom had visited the craft store where Mia was allowed to pick out a scrapbook along with some special glue, pens, and stickers. Now, she grabbed the bag containing all of those supplies, plus the envelopes of photos she’d had developed at the drugstore. She also brought her camera along, because she believed a true photographer should always be ready, just in case a good photographic moment presented itself.