Sleeping Over

by P J Denton

  “Hey!” Taylor said. “Don’t be so mean, Jo. Em’s not a baby.”

  “Yeah.” Emily could feel tears welling up, and she swallowed hard to stop them. It was bad enough to know that her parents thought she was a baby. If her best friends started to think the same thing, she wasn’t sure she could stand it.

  Jo put a hand on Emily’s arm. “I’m not trying to be mean, Emily,” she said. “But think about it. What’s the only way your parents might change their minds about letting you go to the slumber party?”

  Emily thought about that. “If they think I really am grown up enough to sleep away from home?”

  “Right!” Jo said. “And the best way to show them that is acting grown up enough. Get it?”

  Taylor and Kara exchanged a glance. They both looked doubtful and a little confused.

  But Emily realized that Jo was right. Her parents weren’t going to change their minds because of some silly hunger strike or give in to Taylor’s arguments no matter how long she talked.

  No, Jo’s plan was the only one that just might work . if Emily could pull it off.

  Emily’s stomach fluttered nervously as she walked out of school that afternoon with her friends. Could she do it? Was she really grown up enough to make Jo’s plan work? Or were her parents right—was she still too young to sleep away from home?

  “On the ride home, think about all the stuff we helped you come up with,” Jo suggested. “You can sort of practice it in your head. Then talk to both your parents together.”

  “Okay,” Emily said. “Thanks, you guys.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to come over and help?” Taylor asked.

  Emily shook her head. “I think I need to do this by myself.”

  Her friends waved good-bye. Jo headed toward her bus, while Taylor and Kara, who both walked to school, headed in the other direction. Emily walked to the area in front of the school where parents could pick up their kids. As always, Mr. Purcell, one of the fourth-grade teachers, was there monitoring the pickups, and Emily waved hello to him.

  Normally, Emily’s father was already waiting for her when she got out. But today there was no sign of the family’s old green and brown station wagon. She sat down on the curb to wait.

  A girl from a different second-grade class named Wendy Wing walked over to her. “Hi, Emily,” Wendy said. “Looks like your dad is late, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Emily said. “Maybe he gave one of his students a detention.”

  Wendy wrinkled her nose. “Is that when they have to stay after school for being bad? I’m glad we don’t have detentions yet. Did you know it might rain tomorrow?”

  Emily smiled. Wendy always talked like that. She jumped from one subject to another without even pausing for breath.

  “I didn’t know that,” Emily said.

  “I like rain,” Wendy said, kicking at the curb. “Hey, Emily, I heard Taylor Kent is having a slumber party. Is that true?”

  Emily gulped. “You heard that?”

  “Everyone is talking about it,” Wendy said. “Guess what? I got an A on my spelling quiz.”

  “That’s nice.” Emily wasn’t really listening to Wendy anymore. She was too worried about what she had just said. If everyone knew about Taylor’s party, everyone would also know if it got canceled. And they would probably find out why, too. Everyone would know that Emily was the baby who wasn’t allowed to sleep away from home.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Right then and there, she decided something: If she couldn’t go to the party, she would tell her friends that they should go ahead and have it anyway. Even if they had to do it without her.

  That decision made her feel sad . but also a little bit more mature. And it reminded her that she’d better follow Jo’s advice. On the ride home with her father, she would think hard and plan out exactly what to say. Her friends had already given her lots of ideas, so all she had to do was practice so she wouldn’t forget anything. It had to be perfect.

  “Excuse me, Wendy,” Emily said. “I think I see my dad’s car coming.”

  She stood up as the station wagon pulled in. But when it stopped by the curb, she got a big surprise. Her father was driving, as usual, but her mother was sitting in the front seat beside him!

  Emily gulped. It looked as if she wouldn’t have time to plan what to say after all.

  She took a deep breath as she walked to the car. All she could do was try her best.

  “Hello, Emily,” her mother said as Emily slid into the backseat. “How was your day?”

  “Fine,” Emily replied, feeling nervous. “Um . Mommy? Daddy? I want to say something.”

  “Yes? What is it?” her father asked as he drove the car away from the school.

  “I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday,” Emily blurted out. She could feel her face turning almost as red as Kara’s, and she was afraid she might start crying again. But she took a few more deep breaths to hold back her tears. After all, mature almost–third graders didn’t cry every time they were nervous or didn’t get their way.

  “Well, thank you for the apology, Emily.” Her mother sounded surprised but pleased.

  “That’s not all,” Emily said. “Um, I have something else I want to say. Will you listen all the way through before you say anything? Please?”

  In the front seat her parents exchanged a glance and a nod. “Of course,” her father said. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it.”

  “It’s about Taylor’s sleepover.” Emily spoke as calmly and carefully as she could. She wanted to sound just as logical and thoughtful as Jo would in her place. “I know you already said I couldn’t go. But I hope you’ll think about it again. See, I really think I’m old enough and mature enough to sleep away from home. For one thing, you already decided I was old enough to sleep without my night-light. That means I’m growing up. And I think this party is a good way to show that. I can give you all the details about the party, like that it’s at Taylor’s house, and it starts at five in the afternoon on Friday. I even already planned out what I would need to bring—my nightgown, my toothbrush, a pillow, and a sleeping bag. Taylor already said we can use her toothpaste and washcloths.”

  Emily paused for breath. She looked at her parents. Her father’s eyes were on the road as he drove. But her mother was looking back at her from the front seat, her face thoughtful.

  “Is that all?” Mrs. McDougal asked.

  “Not quite,” Emily said. “I just want to say that if you say no, I’m not going to act like a brat. I promise. And I don’t blame you if you say no just because of how I acted yesterday.” She smiled hopefully. “But I hope you’ll say yes.”

  Her mother nodded. Then she and Emily’s father shared a long look.

  Emily held her breath. She had done everything she could. But would it be enough? Would Jo’s plan work?

  That Friday afternoon, Emily sat on a stool in the farmhouse’s kitchen and watched her father pull a pan out of the oven. He was wearing an apron with a picture of an artichoke on it, along with a pair of oven mitts. He closed the oven door with his knee and then turned around to face Emily.

  “Ta-da!” he said, sliding the pan onto a trivet on the counter. He grabbed a platter out of the cupboard beside the stove and set it nearby. Then he turned over the pan and shook it, which made a dozen cupcakes tumble onto the platter. “Looks like the cupcakes came out perfectly!” he announced.

  “That’s nice. They smell good.” Emily sneaked a peek at the clock on the wall over the refrigerator. It was three minutes after five. Were her friends already at Taylor’s house for the slumber party?

  Her father looked over just in time to catch what she was doing. “Don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “You won’t be late. That clock is fifteen minutes fast, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot.” Emily grinned at him. She still could hardly believe her speech in the car the other day had worked. Her parents had said she could go to the sleepover!

  Just then her mother hurried
into the kitchen carrying a basket filled with strawberries. “I just picked these,” she told Emily, handing her the basket. “I thought you could take them to the party.”

  “Thanks, Mommy!” Emily said, grabbing a berry and popping it into her mouth. “My friends will love these.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her mother smiled at her. “Now, are you sure you packed everything you’ll need tonight?”

  “I think so.” Emily glanced at the suitcase, pillow, and rolled-up sleeping bag stacked neatly beside the back door. “I have my nightgown, my toothbrush, my slippers, a hairbrush, and some clean clothes to wear tomorrow. Oh, and I also brought Annabelle.”

  Her father chuckled. “I’m sure Annabelle will enjoy the party too.”

  “I know she will.” Emily was so excited that she shivered. “Thanks again for letting me go, you guys.”

  “You’re welcome,” her mother said again. “But you should thank yourself, too. Your father and I were very impressed by your mature apology and explanation in the car on Tuesday.”

  Mr. McDougal nodded, licking some cupcake crumbs off his fingers. “That’s what changed our minds,” he added. “You really are growing up into a mature young lady, Emily. Sometimes we forget that.”

  Her mother stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Yes. But no matter how mature you get, you’ll still always be my baby.”

  Emily hugged her back with the arm not holding the strawberries. For once, she didn’t mind at all being called a baby.

  Meanwhile, her father was packing up the cupcakes into a large tin. “We’re always going to make decisions we think are right for you, Emily,” he said. “But we’re also always going to be willing to listen to what you have to say if you don’t agree with those decisions.”

  “That’s right,” her mother agreed. “All you have to do is talk to us, sweetheart.”

  “I know. I’ll remember.” Emily smiled at them. She had never been happier to be a part of her little family. Her parents might be a bit old-fashioned, but they were also the best parents in the world.

  Of course, that didn’t mean she wanted to stay there in the kitchen with them any longer than necessary—at least not today. She had a slumber party to go to. And she couldn’t wait!

  “Here we are,” Emily’s father announced, pulling to the curb in front of Taylor’s house.

  The Kents lived in a big stone house in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. Huge, leafy trees lined both sides of the street. The trees’ gnarled roots made bumps in the white paved sidewalks, and their branches cast shade over the neatly tended front yards.

  Emily’s heart felt like it was beating twice as fast as usual. She went over to Taylor’s house all the time. But today was different.

  “Thanks for driving me here,” she said.

  “No problem. If I’d stayed home, your mother would have made me help her transplant eggplants.” Her father winked and grinned to show he was joking around. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Soon they were standing on the Kents’ broad front porch. Emily set down her sleeping bag. She barely had to knock before the door flew open.

  “You’re here!” Taylor cried. “Welcome to the slumber party! Hi, Mr. M.”

  “Hi yourself, Taylor,” Emily’s father said. He held out the tin he was holding. “Emily and I made cupcakes for the party. We thought you girls could have fun decorating them before you eat them.”

  “Yum!” Taylor took the tin. “Thanks!”

  Just then Taylor’s mother appeared behind her. Mrs. Kent usually wore business suits for her job as a financial consultant. But today she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Hello there, Emily,” Mrs. Kent said. “Hi, Arthur.”

  “How are you doing, Trenyce?” Emily’s father replied. “Are you sure you’re up to dealing with this gaggle of girls all night?”

  Mrs. Kent laughed. “I think we can manage. Come on in!”

  Emily’s father helped her carry in her things. Then he got ready to leave.

  “Have a nice time, Emily-Memily,” he said as he bent down to give her a hug. While he was hugging her, he whispered in her ear, “Just call us if you get too homesick and want us to come get you. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Okay.” Emily was glad to hear him say that. But she was pretty sure she wouldn’t need to call. “Bye, Daddy. See you in the morning.”

  After he left, Taylor and Emily carried Emily’s stuff upstairs to Taylor’s bedroom. Taylor dropped Emily’s sleeping bag on her fluffy cream-colored rug. Taylor’s room was bigger and fancier than Emily’s. The Kents had hired a professional decorator to pick out the furniture, carpet, and curtains. The decorator had also chosen the cream and gold wallpaper. But now the wallpaper was almost completely covered by Taylor’s sports and music posters. The posters made the room feel a lot friendlier.

  “Just throw your suitcase anywhere,” Taylor told Emily. “We’ll set up our sleeping area later.”

  “So when are Kara and Jo coming?” Emily asked. “I was afraid I’d be the last one to get here.”

  Taylor opened her mouth to answer. But right at that moment the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Taylor grinned. “Sounds like they’re here now.”

  The two girls ran back downstairs just in time to see the Kents’ housekeeper, Gloria, open the front door. Kara and Jo were standing together in the doorway.

  “Yay! Now everyone is here!” Taylor said.

  “Hi, Gloria,” Kara said politely. Then she rushed inside, tossing aside her duffel bag. “We’re here!” she cried. “So let the slumber party begin!”

  “O kay, first things first,” Taylor announced. “Everybody change into their pajamas!”

  Emily blinked in surprise. She had just helped Kara and Jo carry their things upstairs.

  Jo wrinkled her nose. “But it’s only five fifteen in the afternoon,” she said.

  “No, she’s right!” Kara exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the edge of Taylor’s bed. “It’s a slumber party. We have to wear pj’s!”

  “How do you know what to do at a slumber party?” Jo asked. “You’ve never been to one before!”

  But Kara was already digging through her duffel bag. Taylor ran over to her dresser and pulled out a set of frog-print pajamas.

  Emily grinned at Jo. “I guess we’d better do what they say.”

  Soon all four of them were dressed in their nightclothes. Taylor was wearing her frog pajamas and a pair of fuzzy, neon green slippers. Emily had put on her favorite nightgown, which had a pretty blue and yellow flower pattern and lace around the collar. Kara was dressed in a flouncy, bright pink nightie with ruffles. And Jo had on a pair of plaid flannel shorts, a baggy T-shirt, and dark blue slippers.

  “Okay, now this is starting to look like a slumber party,” Kara declared. “So what are we going to do first?”

  “We could decorate those cupcakes Emmers brought,” Taylor said. “Or maybe we should go play in the rec room for a while first.”

  Jo raised her hand. “I vote for the rec room,” she said. “I dare any of you to try to beat me at Ping-Pong.”

  “Is that a challenge?” Taylor grinned. She loved challenges. “You’re on!”

  They all ran downstairs. Taylor’s father was just coming in the front door, his suit jacket slung over one arm.

  “Hi, Dad!” Taylor called, not even slowing down as she raced down the hall toward the basement door.

  “Hi, Mr. Kent!” Emily, Jo, and Kara chorused as they followed.

  “Hello, girls,” Mr. Kent said with a laugh as they ran past him.

  For the next hour the four friends played in the basement rec room. There was a Ping-Pong table down there, along with a pool table, a suction dart game, a TV with a video-game console, and lots of books and board games.

  Then Mr. and Mrs. Kent called them upstairs for dinner. Normally when the girls came over to Taylor’s house, they ate their snacks or lunch in the kitchen. Tonight, how
ever, they got to eat in the dining room. Gloria had gone home for the day, but she’d left a pot of her delicious spaghetti sauce bubbling on the stove. Mrs. Kent served the spaghetti to the girls accompanied by salad and garlic bread.

  “Is it time for cupcakes yet?” Kara asked as she finished her second helping of spaghetti. She burped, then giggled. “Oops! Excuse me.”

  “It’s definitely time for cupcakes,” Taylor said. “Emily’s dad’s cupcakes are so good!”

  “We can’t eat them yet,” Jo reminded her. “We need to decorate them first, right?”

  Emily nodded. “Dad sent along some frosting and other stuff for us to use.” She stood and picked up her plate. “Let’s clear the table, and then we can get started.”

  Mr. Kent came in from the kitchen just in time to hear her. “Never mind that, Miss Emily,” he said, taking the plate from her. “My wife and I will clear up tonight. You girls go ahead into the kitchen—she’s already setting up your cupcake factory in there.”

  “Thanks, Dad!” Taylor skipped over and kissed her father on the cheek as he bent to pick up another plate. “You’re the coolest!”

  Within moments, the four of them were seated at the kitchen table. The cupcakes were in the middle of the table, along with a bowl of white frosting. All around them were dishes containing different ingredients the girls could use to decorate the cupcakes.

  “Wow,” Jo said, surveying the choices. “I never heard of decorating cupcakes with strawberries before.”

  “Why not?” Kara popped a strawberry into her mouth. “It’ll make them a lot more interesting than the boring old plain cupcakes from the grocery store.”

  They all got to work. There were a dozen cupcakes, so each girl got to frost and decorate three. Emily made her first one with pink frosting and strawberries. Then for the next one she traded Jo for some of her pale green frosting and decorated the cupcake with mint leaves from her mother’s herb garden. For the third one she kept the icing white and covered the top with different-colored mini gumdrops.