True Colors (4 page)

Aly popped a few banana slices into her mouth
and grabbed her backpack. She would have to think of something while she was at school.

During gym, while the rest of her class played volleyball, Aly tried and tried to come up with a plan, but other than finding kids who could polish as well as she and Brooke could to work at the salon, she couldn't come up with anything. And really, no other kids she knew could polish like she and Brooke could.

After the final bell rang, Aly went to the library to work with Charlotte and Lily on their Lewis and Clark project. Half of their fifth-grade class was in there with them, and Ms. Abbott, the librarian, was going from group to group helping everyone out. In between researching, Aly and Lily and Charlotte talked about Brooke's arm and the fact that she wouldn't be able to work tomorrow.

“I wish I were a better polisher,” Charlotte said.

“I wish I could polish at all,” Lily added. “But you remember what happened last time I tried?”

“Orange pinkie toe,” Charlotte and Aly said together. Then the girls giggled, in spite of the seriousness of their conversation.

Aly knew she would have to find a solution that didn't involve Lily painting people's entire pinkie toes orange. Because that would absolutely not be good for business at the Sparkle Spa.

When the girls finished their research and Ms. Abbott had to close the library for the day, Aly decided to stop by True Colors quickly to see if Joan needed anything. With Mom gone, Aly knew it would be crazy at the salon. And sure enough, she was right.

“Oh, thank goodness you're here! Can you pitch in with the usual stuff?” Joan asked the moment Aly entered the salon.

“Absolutely!” Aly said. She quickly took care of the jobs she and Brooke usually did at True Colors—went to the bank to turn twenties into singles, organized the polish wall, and refilled the rhinestones at Carla's, Jamie's, and Joan's stations.

When that was all done, Aly sat down to take a breather with Mrs. Franklin, one of the girls' favorite regulars, who was under the nail dryers.

“Where's your sister?” Mrs. Franklin asked. “I brought a new photograph of Sadie I know she would love to see.” Sadie was Mrs. Franklin's dog, a famous dog model—or, at least, she was a little bit famous. She was in magazines and was the official spokes-dog for the Paws for Love animal shelter in town. Brooke especially loved seeing pictures of Sadie dressed in silly outfits from her photo shoots.

“She broke her arm chasing Sparkly,” Aly replied. “But I'll tell her that you have pictures.”

“A broken arm!” Mrs. Franklin said. “Well, that's too bad. But I think I might have something more than pictures to cheer her up. Would you mind unzipping the side pocket on my purse?”

Aly did as she was asked, pulling out a gold pencil case and opening it to find paw print stickers inside.

“Why don't you take a couple of those for Brooke to put on her cast?” Mrs. Franklin suggested. “It's Sadie's autograph.”

Aly smiled. Brooke would love the stickers. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Franklin.”

Mrs. Franklin nodded. “Of course, dear. And please tell your sister I hope to see her back in the salon soon.”

“I will,” Aly said.

Aly noticed Joan putting some paper on a clipboard and attaching a pen to it with a ribbon. “What's that?” she asked.

“Lately, there have been so many walk-in customers, in addition to our regulars,” Joan explained. “There just isn't enough room, with all these people crowding here. So I made a chart: name, cell phone number, time of arrival. I'll call people five minutes before we're ready for them so they can run other errands and not clog up the salon while they're waiting.”

Aly glanced around at the customers in the waiting area. Most of them looked a little impatient, checking their phones or reading magazines. Joan was right. They could probably put the time to better use running errands rather than sitting around until a manicurist freed up.

“Nice plan,” Aly said. “Do you think my mom will like it?”

Joan massaged her forehead. “If she doesn't, she can discontinue it when she's back. But as long as I'm
in charge, we have to keep business—and people—moving.”

Aly nodded. She'd never seen Joan so serious about something salon-related before. Usually, she was the fun one who made cookies and hosted pizza picnics while Mom took care of salon business.

“Sounds great,” Aly said. Then she looked at the clock. She really should head home now and see how Brooke was doing, but then she spotted a familiar face poking through the front door.

“Sophie!” Aly said. “What are you doing here?”

“My mom is at the Sports Palace with my brother—buying him new sneakers. She said I could come here until they're done. I wanted to ask Joan how Brooke's doing.”

“Big brother or little brother?” Aly asked.

“Big,” Sophie said. “Sammy is at home with NaiNai.” Sophie had two brothers, one in seventh
grade and one who was three. Her grandma watched the three-year-old a lot. “I thought you had to work on Lewis and Clark today?”

“I did,” Aly said. “But I stopped in here afterward for a little bit. I'm going to go home to see Brooke soon. My mom said she had a bad night, but I don't know how she's been today.”

Sophie nodded. “Maybe I'll give her a call when I get home,” she said.

Aly thought that was a good idea. “As long as she's not sleeping, I bet she'd like that.”

Sophie nodded again, but she didn't leave the salon. “Um . . . ,” she said. “Since you're here, there's something I wanted to show you.” She held out her hand for Aly to see. “I practiced polishing a lot last night. Look.”

Aly inspected Sophie's fingers. They were close to perfect. Not a drop of color on her skin, and every part of every nail was polished.

Aly grinned at Sophie. She really
did
need help tomorrow, and if Sophie could polish, that might fix Aly's scheduling problem. And even if she did a terrible job, the thing about polish is that it's easy to take off.

Aly looked at Joan's clipboard list. Then she took a big breath. “Sophie,” she said, “I'm making an ESSD—an Executive Sparkle Spa Decision: You're now an official Sparkle Spa manicurist. Can you come in and polish tomorrow afternoon?”

Sophie beamed. “Absolutely!” she said.

For what seemed like the first time since Brooke broke her arm, Aly exhaled with relief. She put her arm around Sophie's shoulders. “Welcome to the team,” she said.

“Aly!” Joan called from the reception desk. “Your mom is on the phone. She said you should head home now.”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Sophie said, still smiling, and she walked out the door.

Aly got her backpack and started to head out too. But before she did, she stopped at the reception desk and blurted out, “Joan, just like you, I made a big decision today: I hired a new manicurist for the Sparkle Spa. Sophie. And now everything's going to be okay tomorrow.”

At first Joan was silent. She stared at Aly for a few seconds, then finally said, “Aly, you're in charge of the Sparkle Spa. If you think that's the right thing to do, you should do it. But you have to take responsibility for this decision—no matter what happens.”

Aly gulped. “I know,” she answered. “I know.”

W
hen Aly walked through the door, Brooke was curled up on the overstuffed chair in the corner of the kitchen. Sparkly was at her feet.

“It feels like I haven't seen you in a
year,
” Aly said, speeding over to her sister.

“More like three hundred years,” Brooke answered. But she didn't sound like her usual bouncy self.

“Hi, Aly,” Mom called from the laundry room. “I'll be up in a second!”

“She's transferring,” Brooke said. “Washer to dryer.”

Aly nodded. “So how does your arm feel?” she asked, studying Brooke's cast.

In the light it was really bright, like the White Christmas polish at the salon.

“It hurts,” she said. Her face started to crumple. “And I can't polish nails. I can't go to school or to the Sparkle Spa. I never get to see anyone—not you or Joan or Sophie or anyone.”

Aly sat on the arm of the chair and stroked her sister's head. She almost started crying herself because Brooke was so sad. This was definitely not the time to worry her with Sparkle Spa issues. Besides, Aly had fixed everything by hiring Sophie. She'd tell Brooke all about it later.

“You'll feel better soon,” she said. “You'll go back to school and polish nails, and I'm here right now. I
even brought your homework home. Besides, it's only been two days. Not even.”

Brooke didn't stop complaining there, though.

“I didn't like the hospital either,” Brooke said, snuggling her head against Aly. “It smelled funny. The doctor had to give me a shot, and I had to wait for a hundred million years. It was so boring . . . and a little scary.”

“But you made it through,” Aly said. “And you don't have to go back, right?”

“Wrong,” Mom replied, coming up the steps into the kitchen. “You have a doctor's appointment in two weeks.”

“When can everything get back to normal, Mom?” Brooke asked. “I can't wait.”

“Remember what we talked about?” Mom answered. “Salon on Saturday. Your arm will feel much better by then. And school on Monday. You
just need some time for the swelling to go down.”

“That's too long,” Brooke grumbled. “I
hate
having a broken arm.”

Aly almost wanted to say,
Then you should've listened to me and not gone racing around the house after your hair band,
but she kept it zipped inside. Instead, she said, “I have a present for you. From Mrs. Franklin.” Aly pulled the paw stickers out of her pocket.

Brooke smiled for the first time since Aly got home. “They're to decorate your cast.”

Brooke looked at the fiberglass on her arm. “I can decorate it?” she asked.

Aly shrugged. “Mrs. Franklin seemed to think so.”

“Mom,” Brooke said, a little louder, “can I decorate my cast?”

“Sure,” she said. “No reason why not. But after dinner.”

“I'll cut your chicken tonight, Brookester. But don't get used to it,” Aly offered, and gave her sister's braid a gentle tug.