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lonely.”
    “I
adore
cupcakes,” confides Miss Meadows. “And birthdays . . . and birthday presents!”
    “Me, too,” Annie confides right back. “Only this year I didn’t give him a present.”
    “Oh!”
    “We were supposed to get a dog. . . .” Annie is grim. “
That
was the plan.”
    “But?”
    “
Some
people aren’t that comfortable with dogs.” Rolling her eyes to the sky.
    “I assume
you
are a person who is very comfortable with dogs,” guesses Miss Meadows.
    “Yes.”
    Miss Meadows nods in a way that means
she
likes dogs, too, and then she says, “My father likes pictures.” (Miss Meadows has a father!) “When I was a little girl, I often made him a picture for his birthday.”
    “
My
father likes books,” Annie says. “I wish I could make him a book.”
    “Maybe you can.”
    “Only grownups write books, Miss Meadows.” But even as she says it, Annie is thinking about another book, Remembering Mrs. Rossi. Grownups didn’t write that! The kids in room 222 did!
    “Maybe you could write a
short
book,” suggests Miss Meadows. “Maybe”— thinking —“oh, here’s an idea! How about a birthday card, Annie, with a story inside? A story by
Annie
inside!”
    A story by Annie inside!
Annie giggles at the thought of it.
Annie the author!
    “Ah, so you like my idea?” Miss Meadows looks pleased.
    Annie nods. “But . . . what
kind
of story?”
    “Hmmm.” Miss Meadows wrinkles her nose and thinks. “Well”— more thinking —“it’s always good to write about something you know,” she points out. “Better yet, about
someone
. . . or maybe a whole
family
you know.”
    Annie opens her school bag. She takes out her mother’s picture again. “Maybe a story about my family,” she says slowly, “and we get a dog . . . and . . .”
    Miss Meadows blinks in the sunlight and moves a tiny bit closer to Annie. “What a wonderful idea!” She starts digging around in her big bag again. “Here, Annie, you can borrow this if you like, my favorite pen.” She puts a very green and very fancy pen in Annie’s hand. “A story this important deserves a special pen.”
    Annie’s teacher is giving her a special pen!
    “Just bring it back to school tomorrow.” Miss Meadows stands up and brushes off her skirt. “Now
I
have to go to school,” she says.
    “You do?”
    Miss Meadows points to Sherman Hall. “Right up there in room 303, that’s where I’m taking one of those ‘how to be a better teacher’ classes. I’m always here at the university on Tuesdays,” she says with a friendly shrug. “Always trying to be a better third-grade teacher.”
    Annie wants to say,
But you’re the best third-grade teacher already!
She doesn’t, though. After all, she is still a teeny bit mad at Miss Meadows.

    An hour past Annie’s official bedtime, she is still sitting up in her bed, still a bit jumpy for sleep. Besides, it’s important to go over everything one more time.
    “Okay, Daddy. What was the best part of your birthday?” she asks. (She has already asked the same question. Several times.) “Your favorite part.”
    “There were quite a few favorite parts, Annie. There’s your story, of course — which I have every intention of reading to my Senior Writing Seminar kids next Tuesday. Nobody ever wrote a story just for
me
before,” he adds in a serious tone of voice.
    “Let’s talk about how
funny
my story is.”
    “Oh yes. It’s quite amusing, Annie. Love that title! But beyond that, your story has
heart
and, as you well know, my very favorite stories are the ones with
heart.
”
    “And do you like how I put Mommy’s picture on the cover?” (They have already talked about the cover. Several times.)
    “Yes. It’s the most wonderful picture of Mommy.” Professor Rossi does not seem to tire of saying this. “To think, she once had a dog named Miss Phoebe! And to think,
you
were the one who figured it out!
Excellent
spy work, Annie.”
    “Are you sorry we didn’t have a real