Rewrite the Stars by Christina Consolino (books for 8th graders .txt) ๐
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- Author: Christina Consolino
Read book online ยซRewrite the Stars by Christina Consolino (books for 8th graders .txt) ๐ยป. Author - Christina Consolino
from: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
to: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:18 PM
subject: Help!
Hi, Jackie. Me again (obviously). I opened my file and realized a brainstorming session is badly needed before I can move forward. Any time for a call soon? Iโd prefer that over an email discussion, if you have the time. Thanks. Sadie.
from: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
to: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:19 PM
subject: Oh, I can help...
Hi, Sadie. Sure, I can schedule a call, but it might not be a good time right now. I have someone here, and I need to speak with him. He just left to take a call of his own. And he says hi, by the way. xo and ;-) Jackie
from: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
to: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:20 PM
subject: No!
Really? Itโs Andrew isnโt it? Why did you tell me that? Remember why I went on this vacation? Didnโt I tell you? Yes, Iโm sure I did. What kind of friend are you anyway? :P Sadie
from: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
to: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:21 PM
subject: Yes!
Itโs Andrew, and I guess I wasnโt thinking. Can I blame it on the hormones? Iโm STILL not back to my pre-baby self, in mind or body. Will I ever get there? And you ARE a great friend, one who I would NEVER intentionally do anything bad to. You know that, right? Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry. xo Jackie
from: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
to: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:23 PM
subject: Yes, and youโll get there
Youโre lucky Iโm one of your GREATEST friends because yes, I can forgive you. And I get what you mean about mind and body. It takes a long time, but you will get back to some semblance of who you were before you had Clara. Of course, it wonโt ever be the same, and you might have to tape a few body parts up, but that, my friend, is way too much for me to delve into in this email. I guess Iโll be polite, and you can say hi to Andrew for me. But thatโs all. You donโt need to say where I am. And now, you owe me. So call me tomorrow at 9:30 a.m. We can brainstorm for a bit, and then I can come back here to the library. They open at 10 a.m. Thanks. Sadie.
from: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
to: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:25 PM
subject: Okay
Iโll give your best to Andrew and Iโll call you tomorrow at 9:30. I wrote you in on the desk calendar, IN PEN. How about that? Now letโs hope the connection goes through (if you donโt hear from me by 9:35, give me a call). But please donโt work the entire two weeks while youโre up there. You have a lot of memories from that place, and memories can work *magic* sometimes. Remember, your family needs you. You need you. xo Jackie
from: Sadie Rollins <[email protected]>
to: Jackie Mills <[email protected]>
date: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 4:26 PM
subject: Payment
Your check is in the mail.
After making progress on a smaller but as important project, I packed up my belongings and made my way out of the library. The walk home would be short, no more than five to seven minutes, and the anticipation of extending the quiet that had ensconced me at the library energized me. I pulled my wool coat around my waist, tightening the belt, and thought back to what Jackie had written to me. She was right: Theo and I had years and years of memories embedded in this place. From time at the beach to the hours spent at the playground, moments in each otherโs arms on the front porch and in the back bedroom. In fact, I was certain Delia had been conceived in this place. And this was my time to get away from the life that had started to spin out of control at Kettering Plaza. If I connected with the memories and remembered how invested we had once beenโin each other and in usโwinding myself back on the right path, the path toward a more authentic me might be possible,
When I stepped around the corner at Lake Street, I almost walked into a little old lady and her beagle. Even in the dark, the womanโs houndstooth coat and plaid scarf stood out, and a huge smile splayed across her face. A flower clip sprang from her ashen hair, and her blue eyes sparkled as she lifted a gloved hand to wave. Year-rounders liked to stop and chat, check in on all of lifeโs comings and goings, so I hesitated, but with a wink and another smile, she kept on her way. Taking my cue from her, I waved back and continued my walk toward the cottage.
Something pushed me to turn back and watch the lady as she progressed up the street while keeping up a conversation with someone invisible. She had to have been talking to her petโan amusing thoughtโas she shuffled away, straightening her skirt from time to time and stopping to pick up rocks from along the road. Her short, jaunty movements emitted joy, and the small encounter with her produced a warmth within my chest.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a short, quick text to Andrew: Away but youโre on my mind
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