Dana's Valley Read Online Free PDF Page B

enthusiasm. “You’ve got one? I never knew that.”
    â€œSure. There’s a park in the city. A bunch of us guys go whenever we can. It’s great. But you’ve got to have a lot of nerve to do it. The ramps are really high.”
    â€œHow high?” I could tell Brett was warming up to the idea. I wondered if it was the thought of needing nerve that appealed to him.
    The next gift from Mom and Daddy was a helmet and a set of pads. Brett flipped them over and over. I was pretty sure he was trying to picture what he’d look like in them.
    Travis laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about what you’ll look like. All the guys wear them—and you’ll need them. Believe me.”
    Brett’s next gift was from Dana and me, a new model car because we weren’t quite sure what else he’d like. Dana had wanted to try to be more original, but I talked her into staying with the sure thing. Brett could always use a new model kit.
    â€œThanks. This I know what to do with.”
    There were a few more gifts, and then Mom bundled up the torn gift wrap while Brett handled each of his gifts again.

    The next morning Dana’s gaze was a little preoccupied while we were walking to school. I knew that look. She was dreaming of the gifts she might get. And she had never stopped thinking about the possibility of the new bedroom accessories.
    At last Monday night and Dana’s birthday celebration arrived. Both Marcy and Carli had been invited for the birthday dinner. They entered with giggles and chatter, sliding onto the bench on the far side of the table between Corey and me. Dana was allowed to sit in Daddy’s seat at the head of the table, and Mom stood nearby, her camera in hand. The supper that Dana had chosen was Chinese food. She loved sweet-and-sour chicken and fried rice. Since none of the rest of us were crazy about it, this was a rare treat for her, and she savored it thoroughly.
    Dana had made another odd choice for dessert. A cheesecake, topped with cherries. Mom had already positioned and lit the candles on this nontraditional birthday treat, and we sang “Happy Birthday” as we watched the tiny lights flicker against the shiny red fruit.
    We did the usual counting-of-family-compliments thing, but I wondered as I watched Dana if she was really hearing the nice things we were saying about her. Her smile was looking more and more forced, and she was fidgeting on her seat.
    Once the presents were gathered and set before her, she seemed rather ill at ease. I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was, but I wasn’t about to explain. Even unwrapping the gift from me, the new music book, just what she had wanted, brought only a wistful smile.
    Finally there were no presents left, even though Mom and Dad’s was conspicuous by its absence. Just as Mom was about to begin a little speech, Dana raised her tense face and whispered, “Mom, can I talk to you for a minute? Please?”
    Mom looked surprised but led Dana into the laundry room, where their conversation was just barely audible. I knew what was going on, even though no one could make out their words. Dana was confessing. But to my way of thinking, there had been no crime. Not even a slight transgression. What kid wouldn’t, if given opportunity, want to snoop out a birthday surprise before the actual day arrived? That was just common sense to me. And I was certain that when I became a parent, I would just expect my children to be tempted. I’d simply choose my hiding places well.
    But Dana, who lived by “What would Jesus do?” could not rest until she had confessed to Mom that she had attempted to discover the hidden surprise. Mom had described Dana as having a “tender conscience.” I felt she was just a bit too goody-goody.
    When Dana returned, she was smiling again. And Mom made her special presentation of the mystery packages. A lovely pair of blue