Diary of a Stage Mother's Daughter: A Memoir by Melissa Francis Read Free Book Online Page B

at the knee, paired with a white blouse that had short puffed sleeves and a Peter Pan collar, white socks with eyelet trim folded over at the ankle, and saddle shoes. I wore the outfit so often that I hated every thread of it.
    Mrs. Sandberg put her fingers in her short, curly, blondish-gray hair and smiled as she looked me over.
    She liked me, and seemed to think highly of me, thanks to yet another tip on how to be first in the class, this time from Mom. At the beginning of the school year, Mom told me that when Mrs. Sandberg asked a question about something we read, I needed to repeat the question at the beginning of my answer. So if she asked, “Why did Mary buy an apple?” I was supposed to write, “Mary bought an apple because she was hungry.” Oddly enough, this tidbit came in handy on the first day of school during Reading Comprehension. I’d never heard of Reading Comprehension, but I was the first to raise my hand when Mrs. Sandberg asked, “Why did Billy bring his jacket?”
    I responded, “Billy brought his jacket because it was cold outside.”
    My answer dazzled Mrs. Sandberg, and just like that, I had started another year as the smart kid. That I had just learned this skill the day before was pure coincidence, but I’d take it. As a bonus, I knew that just across the room, Maryjane was fuming.
    Now Mrs. Sandberg walked over to her desk and picked up a folder. “I have Missy’s assignments right here.” She addressed Mom as if the other kids weren’t there.
    “Don’t you look adorable?” she said to me with a smile.
    Mrs. Sandberg had never commented on my clothes before, or anyone else’s. I didn’t know what to say. Mom squeezed my hand hard.
    “Thank you,” I piped up.
    “This should get her through the next two weeks. After that, you’ll have to come back for more. I’m sure keeping up won’t be a problem, but we’ll miss her.” She tugged the bottom of my braid gently.
    So I’d be gone for more than two weeks. That was news. I looked at my friends Mike and Christy and wondered when I’d see them again.

    An hour later, we pulled up to the Van Nuys airport and got out of the long black limousine they’d sent for us.
    “Just stay with me and be good, okay?” Mom said, her voice sounding strained. I’d never seen her this nervous.
    The driver got out and ushered us through the airport and onto the tarmac, where a small jet waited with an even smaller staircase leading up to its door. I’d flown on planes a few times before, but they had been big and we’d had to wait with a bunch of people before getting on them.
    Now just Mom and I mounted the stairs, and when we ducked inside, I saw a boy sitting there with his father.
    “I’m Jason. Jason Bateman, your new brother,” he said officially. He had shiny reddish brown hair that fell to his collar, with a curtain of bangs, bright blue eyes, and freckles that covered his cheeks and nose.
    He had a playful spark, which I welcomed, since it seemed clear we’d be the only two kids for a while. He was older than me, which would normally mean he’d ignore me, but I knew since it was me or nothing, I had a shot.
    Just then a booming voice filled the plane. “Hey, kids! What do you think? Not bad, right?”
    This was the man I’d seen at the audition. He ran his fingers through his long wavy hair and tugged on the front of his blue chambray button-down shirt. His tight jeans gave way to weathered tan cowboy boots. He laughed a big, bellowing laugh that made his eyes glint. It was impossible not to love him immediately.
    Even though he stood a few inches shorter than the pilot behind him, he was larger than life. He had the magnetism of God and Santa Claus rolled into one. I looked over at Mom, who had been struck silent. He seemed to get a kick out of that.
    “I’m Michael Landon,” he said, his lips curled up into a smile.
    For once, Mom had nothing to say. She seemed to just melt.
    I had no idea that this man was the creator and