Best Buds (9 page)

But feeling sorry for my biggest enemy was a weird sensation, that was for sure.

“I can’t believe it,” said Dad, stabbing the air with his fork, an asparagus spear drooping on either side. “Society Sisters booked two parties on the same day! What were they thinking?”

I gave him a look.

He had the grace to look chagrined. “I guess it happens,” he said.

Mom laughed. “Yeah, I guess so!” She shook her head. “It’s a shame to lose the business, though.” She took a sip of water. “I warned Ashley it wasn’t a good idea to have the first party at a new venue. They need some time to iron out the kinks.”

“It sounded like such an incredible party,” said Rose wistfully.

“Incredible,” echoed Poppy, patting the jaunty pink headband with a pink bow she wore in her hair. Yes, she was still being Rose, and Rose
still
didn’t seem to realize it.

“Well, you must be relieved, Del,” said Aster.

I shook my head ruefully. “I thought I would be,” I said. “My birthday can be salvaged and my ex–best friend is getting her just deserts.” I shrugged. “But for some reason I just feel bad for her. And for us, for losing the business, of course.” I smiled grimly. “After all, I know what it’s like to be disappointed on your birthday.”

I saw Mom and Dad exchange a sappy glance. “Del, that’s really mature of you,” Dad said.

“Don’t give me too much credit,” I said. “It’s mostly because we need the business. We have to keep things going for Gran and Gramps!”

I jumped as Buster pressed his cold nose into my bare leg, begging for a handout. “No more scraps for you, Buster,” I said. “You’re getting chubby.” That didn’t seem to faze him and he moved on to Aster.

“They did offer to move the party to the barn,” mused Mom. “But I guess that isn’t fancy enough for Ashley.”

Dad got that look on his face when he’s about to quote someone. “As Jonathan Swift once wrote, ‘You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,'” he said.

“Huh?” said Rose. “What does that mean?’

“Yeah, what does that mean?” Poppy repeated. Rose looked at her quizzically.

“It means you can’t make something fancy out of something inferior,” Dad explained. “Ashley can’t turn a dirty barn into a fancy party space.”

Dad has a lot of sayings, some I listen to and some that go in one ear and out the other. But for some reason, this one really stuck with me. That night after I fell asleep, I dreamt of old-fashioned ladies in fancy dresses holding pigs’ ears as purses and big, fat, pink pigs with jeweled handbags for ears. I woke up, shaking my head. How weird.

I lay in bed, amusing myself with thoughts of Ashley, dressed in a gown and tiara, sitting on a hay bale at a gorgeously set table. Crystal chandeliers hung from the beams and the tables were covered in lace, with fine china, silver candlesticks, and platters of gourmet food.

I expected to give myself a good laugh. But then I received a surprise. In my mind’s eye, the beautiful tables
and decorations looked pretty amazing against the rustic setting.

I sat up straight in bed. Who said Ashley had to change her fancy party to a barbecue? She could have her totally over-the-top event in the barn! We could put Oriental carpets on the floor. Hang chandeliers, bring in gilt chairs, set the table with gorgeous linens and china and crystal and really go over the top. This would be way more amazing and one-of-a-kind than a party in a catering hall!

I slipped out of bed. I was the only one up. It was still really early, not even six o’clock. I hovered outside of Mom and Dad’s room, listening intently for signs of life. I waited on pins and needles until I couldn’t take it anymore. Then I crept into their room and stood over Mom, who was sleeping soundly, her arm thrown across her face. Dad was buried under the covers, snoring softly.

The power of my thoughts (or perhaps the fact that I poked her shoulder) must have woken Mom up.

“Del!” she said, slightly panicked, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I whispered. “I just figured out how to save Ashley’s party!”

That got her right up. Mom slipped out of bed and we headed downstairs. We settled on the living room couch. And then I told her my idea.

Mom grinned. “It
is
one of a kind,” she said. “I bet she’s going to love it.” Then she frowned. “But what about the flowers?” she asked. “It’s too late to order all the gardenias and crystals she wanted.”

“One thing at a time, Mom,” I said. “Let’s focus on the setting first!”

We spoke with Society Sisters, who were more than happy to help us try to salvage the party they had lost. They gave us a list of all the decorations they had and we found the rest. We called antique shops, home decorating stores, and garden supply shops. We picked up chandeliers, gilt birdcages, and oil paintings in fancy golden frames. Aunt Lily even came through with an old Oriental rug that had been gathering dust in her attic. Society Sisters cleaned out that barn in record time and helped us decorate.

Mrs. Edwards agreed to bring Ashley to the barn at dusk that evening even if she had to drag her there. I got a good laugh just imagining that.

Mom and I met our guests in the parking lot. Mrs. Edwards looked hopeful and Ashley just looked grumpy.

“So I hear you’re trying to save my party, Delphinium,” she said sarcastically. “Well, don’t waste your time. I’m only here because my mom forced me to come.”

I said nothing and began to lead Ashley and her mom down the narrow brick walkway that led from the parking lot to the barn.

We had lined the path with luminarias. Mom and I had gotten fancy with plain brown paper bags and a hole puncher, creating a beautiful pattern. Then we filled the bottoms of the bags with sand and placed a candle in a glass votive inside each one.

When we reached the clearing in front of the barn, I paused. There was a tire swing near the entrance and we had covered the rope with a flowery vine. We had even decorated the rough wooden fence and benches nearby. It really was picture perfect. The barn door creaked loudly as I rolled it to the side. Ashley and her mom stared in silence at the glowing, glistening room. The floor was covered in several rich-looking Oriental rugs. Chandeliers, dripping with crystals, hung from the beams over the tables. In the corners
were ornate birdcages. Mom, always thinking of every creative detail, had added colorful fake birds hanging out on the perches inside. We had set up one table completely, which was covered with glittering crystal, fine bone china, and fancy candlesticks. After much thought, we had gone with a square glass centerpiece lined with leaves and packed with white calla lilies. It was fun, totally funky, and completely unexpected. It was perfect. But would Ashley agree?

Mrs. Edwards clasped her hands together. “It’s amazing.”

Ashley looked around. “I just don’t know,” she said. “It’s gorge, don’t get me wrong. Really gorge,” she admitted grudgingly. “But who throws a party in a barn? What if everyone thinks it’s stupid?”

I groaned inwardly. Was all our hard work for nothing?

Just then Mom blurted out, “Well,
Jennifer Aniston
didn’t think it was stupid when
she
had her fancy party in a barn!”

Huh? I turned to look at Mom. She wouldn’t look at me. “I read it in
Us Weekly
!” she added.

Ashley considered this for a moment. Then she smiled. “Well, it is quite beautiful,” she said thoughtfully. “And cutting edge, too.” She nodded. “It’s brill.”

“So shall we do it?” asked her mother.

“Let’s do it!” said Ashley. Then she was silent for a moment, eyeing the calla lilies. “The only thing that has to go is the flowers. I need something really special for my party. These centerpieces are lame.”

Mom looked fed up. I wasn’t upset, though. I was getting used to Ashley’s obnoxious comments.

“Oh, don’t worry!” I said, jumping right in. “These are just placeholders. We have something really amazing planned. You’re just going to love it.”

Ashley and her mom left the barn chattering excitedly. As soon as they were gone, Mom and I simultaneously let out a deep breath and collapsed into two of the golden bamboo chairs with silk, off-white cushions. I bounced on my seat. They were pretty comfy.

We exchanged glances. “Jennifer Aniston?” I asked Mom with a grin. “You made that up, didn’t you?”

She shrugged. “It
could
be true,” she said.

“ ‘Something really amazing planned?’ “ she asked me.

I shrugged back. “We’ll figure it out, Mom. We always do.”

I needed a day off after all the drama, so Dad worked at the store the next day. He was going to take orders, greet customers, do simple arrangements, and only interrupt Mom if something big came up. She was concentrating on creating an amazing centerpiece for Ashley. The Edwardses were going to stop by on the Fourth of July to make the final decision. That was the next day. So the clock was ticking.

I for one was glad to be lazily hanging out at home with my sisters. I was flipping through the channels, and Poppy was playing Go Fish with Aster. Then Rose came down the stairs and stood in front of me.

“I’m bored,” she announced. “Can we go to the mall?”

Apparently, there’s only so much relaxation my sisters are capable of.

“Everyone up for it?” I asked, hoping someone would say no. These days the mall meant Fleur to me. What if I ran into Hamilton? How awkward would that be? Aster shrugged. Poppy was on board, of course.

I called the store to tell Mom and Dad where we were going. “Fine, fine,” said Dad distractedly.

“How are the centerpieces coming along?” I asked him.

“Not so well,” he said. “Your mom has tried seven different arrangements and she’s starting to get … frustrated.”

I grimaced. “She hasn’t started saying she doesn’t know why she ever thought she was good at flower arranging, has she?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” said Dad.

“Then you have my sympathy,” I told him.

My sisters and I took the bus and soon we were walking through the mall’s north entrance.

“Where should we start?” I asked. Rose and Poppy decided they wanted to look in the windows of the pet store first.

The puppies and kittens were adorable. Especially a
long-haired dachshund that put its paws on the window and looked at us with big, sad eyes and started to howl a little puppy howl. So of course Poppy had to go inside and ask if she could hold her. It took a while to convince our little sister it was time to go. “I need that puppy!” she cried. “She would be my best friend! Buster could be her big doggie brother!”

Next, we went to the hat shop and tried on almost every hat in the store. Rose put on the largest, floppiest hat I had ever seen and said, “After all, tomorrow is another day!” the closing line from our mother’s favorite movie,
Gone with the Wind.
Poppy, not to be outdone, put on a fedora and tried a line from Dad’s favorite movie,
Casablanca,
and got it all wrong: “Of all the gym joints in all of the world, she walks into mine,” she said. We laughed and laughed until I caught the hat store lady glaring at us and I escorted everyone out.

For Aster, we paid a visit to the comic book store, but we got bored and had to eventually drag her away from the
Nightmare Before Christmas
collectibles. I made a mental note to buy her one for Christmas-slash-Hanukkah.

“I’m hungry!” said Rose.

“Me too,” said Poppy.

So we headed to the food court. But I got mixed up and I didn’t plan my route properly and to my dismay I realized we were about to pass Fleur.

“Hey!” said Poppy. “Isn’t that where we were spiers?” she asked excitedly.

Back in May, I thought that Hamilton had stolen prom ideas from us and I had gone to Fleur to find out if it was true. Poppy ended up coming with me and we had had quite an adventure. I ignored the quizzical looks from Rose and Aster. I would explain later if I had to. First, I had to get past the place.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,
I chanted to myself. But of course I did. And there, standing by the front counter, talking to his mom, was Hamilton Baldwin. Seeing him kind of took my breath away. He looked tan — more like a light shade of golden brown, to be exact — and he was wearing a baseball cap and shorts. He looked totally cute. My heart melted a little. It had been thirteen days since I had seen him. Not that I was keeping track or anything.

Then he stepped to the side and I saw her. The pretty, older girl that Rachel had told me about. I wasn’t
prepared for exactly how pretty and how much older she looked. She was at least fifteen, with long, straight, dark hair and big, dark eyes. She laughed and touched Hamilton’s arm. And that’s all I saw because then I had to turn away.

At the food court, my sisters loaded up on snacks, but I had no appetite. Aster looked at me worriedly when I turned down her offer of a piece of a soft pretzel, my favorite.

So Sabrina and Rachel had been right. Hamilton had a girlfriend. A beautiful, older girlfriend. And apparently, her parents didn’t own a rival florist and she could show her face at Fleur whenever she wanted to.

I was done. I couldn’t compete with that.

I woke up the next morning, the Fourth of July, the air already hot and heavy. The cicadas were humming. Usually, I love the weird sound they make, which reminds me of hot summer days gone by. But today it just irritated me. Hamilton had a girlfriend. We still hadn’t figured out Ashley’s centerpieces. Although I wasn’t invited to the party of the year, I was somehow orchestrating the whole
thing. And my birthday was going to be the worst birthday in the history of birthdays.

As Mom and I walked to work, the time and temperature provided for us by Elwood Falls Bank told us it was already eighty-seven degrees at 8:30 a.m. We were drenched by the time we got to the store. But we put on the air conditioner full blast and we were soon totally cool and comfortable. We had a steady stream of customers all morning, which was good because it distracted me from my woes. Whether it was that everyone had fallen in love with Mom’s new jaunty red-white-and-blue Fourth of July corsages — no dyed carnations for her: instead she created a red gerbera daisy, white hydrangea sprig, and blue bachelor’s button version — or that they just wanted to get out of the heat even for a few minutes, I wasn’t sure. But we ran out of corsages by 11:30 a.m., and Mom had to start making more to keep up with the demand.