The Blind Date (7 page)

“But it will hurt the guy's feelings. He was so happy about going to the dance. And he's already gotten his costume together. I can't do that to him, Bryn.”

“Then I suppose you have to suffer the consequences, huh?”

“I suppose so.”

Bryn was about to guess who was getting stuck with the blind-date-loser-dude, but she was already at her grandma's house. “Hey, look, there's Cassidy's car. It looks like Emma and Devon are with her too.”

“Yeah, why wouldn't they be?”

“Because they were so mad at me yesterday?”

“Oh, well . . . maybe the members are taking the second rule seriously.”

“What's the second rule?”

“To be loyal to fellow DG members.” Abby sighed as she opened the door. “I read over the rules last night.”

“So do you think you were being loyal when you set someone up with a loser?” Bryn asked quietly as they got out of the car.

“Shhh!” Abby warned. “Don't remind me.”

As Bryn went over to greet her friends, she reassured herself that all was well. The DG was all here, and they had obviously decided to let bygones be bygones.

I
gotta take this.” Emma held up her phone as the five of them were walking up to Bryn's grandmother's two-story brick house. “I'll be done in a minute.” She waited for the others to go inside.

“Hey, Kent,” she said into her phone. “What's up?”

“You promised to send me some costume ideas,” he told her. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I put some photos on my phone. I can send them right now if you want. Or else you could rent the movie.”

“That's a chick flick,” he said in a disdainful tone.

“A chick flick? Are you kidding?
The Hunger Games
is about a bunch of people killing each other. It's all about this horrible fight where only one person is supposed to survive. It is absolutely not a chick flick, Kent.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely. Watch the movie, Kent. You're going to like it.” Now, without giving away Abby's name, Emma described
the outfit Abby planned to wear. “She'll even be carrying a bow with her. And I don't mean a bow in her hair. A bow-and-arrow kind of bow. Anyway, as Peeta, you should wear something that goes with that kind of outfit.”

“Okay. I guess that works for me. I didn't like the idea of having to rent a tux or something like that.”

“And I can't remember if I told you, but there will be ten of us sharing the limo—”

“Kind of like for homecoming?”

“Yeah. And we'll split the cost ten ways.”

“Sounds good.”

She went over a few more details, then promised to send the photos. “But you make sure you rent that movie—”

“I don't have to rent it, my little sister owns it.”

“Well, then borrow her DVD—and do your homework.” She chuckled. “Now here come the photos.” She sent him the photos and then hurried into the house where Bryn's grandfather greeted her, then directed her toward some stairs. She went down to find everyone gathered in a finished basement, a well-lit space that Bryn's grandmother used as her sewing and craft room.

“And this is Emma,” Bryn told a tall woman with short platinum hair. “Emma, this is my grandmother, Mrs. Jacobs.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Emma said as she gazed at the floor-to-ceiling shelves, all neatly filled with fabrics and craft supplies and plastic crates and all sorts of interesting-looking stuff. “Wow, it looks like you have everything down here.”

“My husband would agree with you on that,” Mrs. Jacobs said.

As Mrs. Jacobs showed the girls around the amazing room, pointing out the various craft areas and cutting tables along
with three different sewing machines, Emma felt a small wave of jealousy. How cool would it be to have a grandma like this? Especially since Emma had always been into art and creating things. Ironically, Emma's own grandmother didn't have a creative bone in her body. At least none that Emma knew of. Grandma's favorite activity was to go to the bingo parlor or watch TV game shows. But thinking of her grandma like that made Emma feel guilty—especially considering how Grandma was feeling so lonely and still grieving over Grandpa's recent death. For that matter, so was Emma. Just one more thing that seemed unfair.

“You're lucky that your grandma has all this stuff,” Emma told Bryn as Mrs. Jacobs showed Cassidy some blue-and-white gingham fabric that she thought would be perfect for the Dorothy dress.

“I guess so.” Bryn shrugged. “Gram is a pretty crafty old gal.”

“You could make almost anything down here.”

“Yeah, and I'm pretty sure Gram has made almost everything you can imagine.” Now Bryn held up a gold-colored dress that had strings of glittering beads in the process of being attached. “This is my Daisy dress.” She pointed out where the rest of the beadwork would go. “It's going to be really cool.”

“It's absolutely gorgeous.” Once again Emma could feel herself stifling the waves of jealousy that were rising up within her. Was Bryn trying to make her feel bad or did she just have no clue? Well, even if it hurt, Emma was determined to be courteous to Bryn today. After all, Bryn was kind of like the hostess here. Emma was her guest. Besides that, Emma was feeling a little embarrassed over her display of emotion yesterday. She still wasn't sure what had gotten into her. Besides
jealousy, that is. Yet here she was feeling green with envy all over again. Only this time she wasn't jealous over a boy, she was jealous over a grandma. Really, it was lame. And sad. And pathetic.
Get over yourself
, she silently chided herself.
You're here to have fun.

It soon became clear that despite how clever and creative she was, Mrs. Jacobs had her hands full with five girls in her basement. Finally, after she had shown Emma how she might make an old-fashioned bonnet and even given her some materials, Emma decided to attempt this project on her own.

“Don't you need a ride?” Cassidy asked with pins sticking out of her mouth.

“That's okay,” Emma explained. “I called my grandma and she's picking me up in a few minutes.”

Cassidy nodded, focusing on the blue-and-white gingham pieces that she was getting ready to sew together. “Okay.”

Emma thanked Bryn and her grandmother, then went upstairs and outside to wait for Grandma.

“What are you doing out here?” Bryn's grandfather looked surprised to see her as he came around the corner from the garage with a partially coiled garden hose in his hands.

Emma made an uneasy smile. “I'm waiting for my grandma to pick me up.”

“Everything okay?” he asked with a concerned expression.

“Yes.” She nodded. “It was just a little crowded down there. And I was, uh, thinking about my own grandma. I thought maybe she'd like to help me with this.” She held up the plastic bag containing the bonnet materials. “You see, she's been kind of lonely since my grandpa died.”

He nodded with compassion. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

Now she felt embarrassed for saying so much. “Yeah . . . thanks.”

“That's nice that you want to spend time with your grandmother. I'm sure she'll appreciate the company.”

Emma spied Grandma's old Buick coming down the street. “There she is now.” She gave him a big smile. “Thanks for letting us invade your home.”

He chuckled as he continued coiling the hose. “Anytime.”

Emma hurried down to her grandma's car, eagerly hopping inside where it was warm and smelled like french fries. “I was at McDonald's when you called.” Grandma pointed to the bag next to her. “Help yourself.”

Emma giggled as she reached for what Grandma usually called her worst vice. “Thanks.”

“So what do you need help with?” Grandma asked as she turned down her street.

Emma explained how she was dressing up as Jane Austen's Emma and how she wanted to make a bonnet to go with her costume. “Did you ever read the book?” she asked.

Grandma shook her head. “You know I'm not much of a reader, Emma.”

Emma reached into her bag where she'd tucked the DVD that Cassidy had loaned her. “I have the movie,” she said. “We could watch it if you want. I wanted to get a better look at the bonnets Emma wears.”

“That's a great idea,” Grandma agreed. “I'd like that.”

As they went into the house, Emma tried not to look at the recliner that her grandpa used to sit in to watch football games. Instead, she described the dress she was going to wear in detail. “And the hat is supposed to have this really wide
brim,” she explained, “with ribbons coming down on both sides.” She held up the DVD. “But you'll see it when we watch the movie.”

Together they watched the movie while Emma worked on the hat, following the directions that Mrs. Jacobs had given her. “I think this looks pretty good,” she told her grandmother when the movie finally ended. Then, placing it on her head, Emma stood up and modeled it around the family room.

“That's perfect,” Grandma told her. “It's almost exactly like the one in the movie. You're such a clever girl, Emma. Such an artist.”

Emma went over to the wall mirror and nodded in satisfaction. “It really does look like the one in the movie.” Now she frowned. “But my hair isn't long enough to braid it like Gwyneth Paltrow did.”

“I have an idea.” Grandma stood up. “Come with me.”

Emma followed Grandma to the master bedroom where Grandma started digging through her closet. “My hair used to be the same color as yours,” Grandma said as she pulled down some boxes from a high shelf. “And back when I was in my twenties, I had this fall.”

“A fall? What's a fall?”

Grandma laughed. “It's a hairpiece that you attached to the top of your head to make it look like you had long hair.” She opened a pink box, and digging through some old scarves and things, she eventually produced what looked like a blondish ponytail. “Here it is.” She swung it around. “My fall.”

Emma giggled at the strange-looking hair. “You really wore that?”

“Just for one summer. It was during the late sixties and all the girls had long hair and I thought I wanted to look like
them. You put it on the top of your head, then wrapped a scarf or hair band around to conceal where it connected.” She held it up to her head, then looked into the mirror inside her closet and broke into laughter. “Oh, my goodness. It looks about as bad now as it did back then.”

Emma couldn't help but laugh too. Grandma looked ridiculous with that scraggly blonde hair hanging down over her short gray hair.

“But I thought that we might be able to braid it,” Grandma said as she led Emma out into the bedroom. She went over to her dressing table and picked up a brush to smooth out the hair before separating it into three strands. “Here, you hold this end while I braid it.”

Emma watched as Grandma worked the hair into a fairly smooth-looking braid. “Now stand still,” Grandma told Emma, positioning her in front of the big mirror. Using bobby pins and hair gel, she smoothed most of Emma's hair back, leaving a few feathered bangs to frame her face. Then she wrapped the thick braid around her head like a crown and secured it in place. “How's that?”

“Oh, Grandma!” Emma exclaimed. “It looks just like the movie.”

“Let's try it with your bonnet,” Grandma said with enthusiasm.

Soon Emma had on the bonnet, and she couldn't have been happier. “It's perfect, Grandma.”

Grandma had her camera out now. “Let's get a photo of it. I want to send this to Aunt Lucy.”

Emma posed for her. “I wish I had the dress here so we could see how all of it looks together.”

“I wish you did too.” Grandma took another shot.

“Hey, why don't you come over to our house on Friday? That's the night of the dance,” Emma suggested. “That way you can see how I look with everything all together.”

Grandma's eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful, dear. I'd love that.”

“Great,” Emma told her. “It's a date.”

“Speaking of dates.” Grandma looked at the clock. “I promised to pick up Marsha for bingo tonight. Can I give you a lift home?”

As Emma gathered up her things, she thanked Grandma for helping her.

“Oh, I didn't really do anything,” Grandma said as they went out to the car. “You know I'm not very creative, sweetie. You made the bonnet all by yourself.”

“But you were encouraging to me,” Emma told her. “And you watched the movie with me, and you're the one who thought of using the fall for my braid. That was creative and it's going to make my costume way better.”

“I guess we make a good team,” Grandma said as she started the car. “Maybe you brought out the creativity in me.”

As Grandma drove Emma home, Emma thought that perhaps her grandmother was more creative than either of them realized. She just needed a little encouragement.