Purple Nails and Puppy Tails (5 page)

BOOK: Purple Nails and Puppy Tails
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“Are you worried about doing them?” Aly asked.

Brooke shook her head, and her braid started unraveling. “Nope. I think they're going to be the best part. I'm going to make Melvin look so nice that Mom's going to let us adopt him.”

Ugh. Dumb, drooly Melvin. “Mom is never going to let us adopt Melvin,” Aly said. “If she lets us adopt any dog, it would be Sparky. Sparky is the absolute cutest. Plus, he's little and doesn't drool all over everything.”

“Melvin can't help it if he drools!” Brooke said. “That's so mean of you not to like him just because he drools. Would you hate
me
if I drooled?”

Aly could not believe they were having this argument. “Of course not,” she said. “You're my sister. I'd
love you no matter what. Even if you drooled everywhere. And besides, it's not just the drooling. Melvin is huge.”

“Would you hate me if
I
were huge?” Brooke asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Brooke!” Aly couldn't help yelling a little. “What I think about you is different from what I think about a big, drooly dog!”

Brooke's voice grew louder and louder. “I'm going to make sure that Melvin gets the best sweater and the best collar and the best pet-icure of all the old-timers. And then Mom and Dad will love him, and it won't even matter what you think.”

“Just you wait.” Aly could not stand the idea of Melvin being the best-looking dog on Adoption Day. “I'm going to make sure Sparky is the handsomest dog there. And Mom and Dad will love
him
, and then Melvin will go home with another family.”

Brooke stood up. “Take that back!”

“I will not,” Aly said, getting up herself and grabbing her pajamas out of her dresser.

Brooke stormed across the room to her own dresser and took out her pajamas, too. “And one more thing,” she said, pushing her now-unraveled hair back over her shoulder. “You did the worst braid tonight. It already fell out.” She started crying.

Aly couldn't believe it. Brooke had turned her head before Aly had been able to put an elastic at the bottom. She marched over to where she'd left Brooke's brush on the floor and threw it on Brooke's bed. “Maybe you should brush your hair yourself from now on.”

Brooke glared at her. “Okay!” she shouted. “I will.”

Aly climbed into bed and grabbed a book off her night table. At times like these, she wished she had her own room.

six
Golden Delicious

F
or the next two days Brooke and Aly spoke to each other only when they had to discuss the polish-a-thon. They each led different teams of friends around to hang up posters in town, and even though they still had to share their bedroom, Brooke brushed her own hair and did her own braid at night. It wasn't as good as the ones Aly did for her, but at least it kept her hair out of her face when she slept.

Before the girls knew it, it was Sunday morning. Mom marched into their bedroom, pulled up the
shades, and announced, “Happy Polish-a-Thon Day! Rise and shine!”

Aly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Happy Polish-a-Thon Day,” she grumbled.

“I just got an e-mail saying that the
Auden Herald
is sending a reporter to the salon today, and the local TV channel might even have cameras there. This is going to be great for business. Thanks for coming up with this idea, girls.”

“TV!” Brooke said, jumping out of bed, her hair flying behind her. “We're going to be on TV?”

“Maybe,” Mom said. “It's not definite.”

But Brooke didn't seem to be listening anymore. “I'm going to wear a dress! The one with the ruffled skirt that's the same color as Magical Mystery Tour. And maybe Aly can fishbone-braid—” Brooke looked at her sister. “Never mind. I'll just wear it in one long ponytail.”

Aly thought about offering to braid Brooke's hair for the polish-a-thon, but then she changed her mind. Brooke still hadn't apologized. Aly hadn't apologized either, but Brooke was the one who had started the Melvin vs. Sparky fight.

As Brooke got dressed, Aly pulled on her favorite long purple T-shirt and paired it with green leggings and high-tops.

Then both girls grabbed a piece of cinnamon toast their dad had made them, kissed him good-bye, and jumped into the car.

From the moment they got to the salon, everything was crazy!

“Girls!” Joan said. “I need help setting up the bake sale!”

“What do you need us to do?” Aly asked.

Joan handed one tray of bone-shaped dog treats to Aly and one tray of puppy-faced treats to Brooke.
The girls took them to Maxie and Bethany, who were waiting outside.

“These are for you,” Aly said, putting her tray in the center of the table.

“Awesome. Joan told us that even though these are for dogs, they're safe for people to eat too,” Bethany said. “I kind of wonder what they taste like.”

“I'll try!” Brooke said. She picked up a bone-shaped treat and took a bite.

“Ew!” Maxie said. “I can't believe you ate that!”

Brooke shrugged. “It tastes kind of like peanut butter and oatmeal.”

“Brooke! Aly!” Mom yelled out the door of the salon. “I need you!”

Aly and Brooke had been at True Colors for Perfectly Peach weddings, Silver Celebration birthday parties, and Sunday Pizza Picnics. But nothing could have prepared them for the polish-a-thon.

At nine o'clock, people started streaming in, and they didn't stop.

At eleven, the TV cameras and the newspaper showed up.

At noon, after Aly and Brooke had already done six manicures and two pedicures, Charlotte came in with her twin brother, Caleb.

“They're giving me a break from the bake sale table, so I'm here for a manicure,” Charlotte said. “And Caleb, too! I told him it was okay for boys.”

“No polish,” Caleb said. “But Charlotte said you could get all the dirt out from under my nails. And, well, whatever. I like dogs.”

Charlotte gave Lily a ten-dollar bill. “That's for both of us,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily answered. “You can choose your color. And you can choose a separate color if you want a paw print on your thumb.”

“A paw print—that's so cool.” Charlotte smiled.

As soon as they finished one customer, another would sit down. The girls barely had a moment to breathe. Just when Aly thought it couldn't get any busier, a girl from Brooke's class named Tuesday came in.

She was carrying a rabbit! “Can you polish Fluffy's nails?” she asked. Then she looked around. “I thought this was for
animals
. On the posters the dogs were wearing polish.”

As the Sparkle Spa's general helper, Anjuli should have handled this, but she was too busy talking to people in the waiting area. So Aly stopped her manicure and went over to talk to Tuesday.

“You'll have to take your rabbit home. But you can come back later or even another day to get your nails done. Okay?” Aly explained.

Disaster averted, Aly thought. But two more third
graders arrived with pets—a dog and a cat. Then a girl with a hamster showed up. And another one with a guinea pig.

Aly pulled Brooke behind the closet door. “What's going on?” she said. “Why are all these third graders coming with pets?”

Brooke's eyes started to get watery. “Maybe it's because I told them that we polished Sadie's paws.”

“Did you tell them that we would polish their pets' paws too?” Aly hissed.

“Maybe,” Brooke said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I'm really sorry!”

Aly took a deep breath. She stood on a chair and made an announcement: “We can't do your pets' nails. You'll have to take them home. Please come back later or another day.”

The girl with the hamster said, “But, Brooke, I thought you said—”

“I'm sorry,” Aly said, still standing on her chair. “This polish-a-thon is for people only!”

The kids paraded out with their pets, and Aly and Brooke got back to three girls waiting.

“Next customer, please,” Aly said. Then she turned to her sister. “Only fifteen more minutes, Brooke. Let's do these last ones quickly.”

When two o'clock came and the last customer had left the salon, everyone cheered. Both True Colors and Sparkle Spa were total and complete messes: Bottles of polish, packages of nail files, stacks of washcloths, and piles of magazines covered every surface.

Aly took Charlotte's hand and said, “Come on, let's go outside just for a sec.”

They sat on the Blue Skies bench in front of the store. Aly looked down at her hands, which were covered in what looked like a million shades of
Raspberry Rainbow, Cocoa Cupcake, and Cheer Up Buttercup.

Charlotte said, “Let's play Good, Better, Best. We haven't done that in forever!”

Aly grinned at her best friend. They had made the game up in third grade. It
did
seem like forever since the last time they had played.

Charlotte began. “Good was watching Joan do two manicures at once. Better was when Caleb stepped in that rabbit's poop. And best was . . .” She paused. “Best was having the reporter ask me about Paws for Love and me maybe being on TV. Your turn.”

Aly thought for a moment and then said, “Good was that tons of people now know about Sparkle Spa. Better was watching Brooke eat about five of Joan's doggie treats. Yuck! And best was the best of all—making more than one thousand four hundred dollars for the puppies!”

seven
Hound Dog Blues

I
mmediately after school on Wednesday, Aly and Brooke raced to True Colors, picked up the polish-a-thon and bake sale money, and headed straight to Pups 'n' Stuff, the pet store where Miss Nina worked. It was one block plus two stores away from True Colors.

“How much did we make again?” Brooke asked, tugging on her braid, which Brooke did whenever she was nervous or excited. Aly knew that this time, it was because she was excited.

“One thousand four hundred and fifty-six dollars,” Aly said, holding on to the pouch tightly. All the money wasn't in there, but a lot of it was. Mom had already given most of it to Mrs. Franklin so that the shelter could pay for baths and special groomers for all ten of the old-timers. They'd raised so much money, in fact, that the shelter was going to offer a free year's worth of dog food to any family who adopted one of the dogs on Sunday. “And we have six hundred and fifty-six dollars to spend on collars and sweaters and bows and bandanas and stuff.”

Brooke nodded. “That's, um, six, um . . . how much money is that for each dog?”

Aly did the math in her head:
Six hundred and fifty-six divided by ten . . .
“Sixty-five dollars and sixty cents each. But it doesn't have to be exactly even.” She thought maybe they could spend more money on Sparky and less on slobbery Melvin.

Brooke, of course, had other ideas. “You mean we can spend more on Melvin? I want to get him the best sweater in the store!”

BOOK: Purple Nails and Puppy Tails
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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