“How many points?” Rosario asks eagerly.
The judges put their heads together again; then Angela holds up an index card with a four on it.
“Not fair,” Ayanna protests.
“Is too,” Rosario says.
“No, because ChiChi did hers and you didn’t,” Ayanna says.
“I did too do mine, and you can’t prove I didn’t.”
That’s the proof, Deja thinks. Rosario said, You can’t prove I didn’t. That’s what guilty people always say.
“Let’s do decorations next,” Rosario says.
Antonia produces a thin three-ring binder. Her pictures are in plastic sleeves. “This is a picture of my table decorations,” she says, holding up a drawing of four circular tables elaborately decorated with floral centerpieces and all the silver utensils and goblets and linen napkins depicted. There are little pouches of something above each plate. “These are my party favors. They contain gold foil chocolates in the shape of coins.” She turns the page. There is a picture of an altar covered with flowers and doves. She moves it slowly before the judges as if she is reading them a picture book.
There is a collective “Wow!” Everyone is at a loss for words.
“Score?” Rosario asks, her voice flat and unenthusiastic.
The judges put their heads together. Then Angela holds up a ten. The Red Roses burst into loud whoops and clapping.
Deja sighs. It’s already obvious which team will be called the best wedding planners.
Keisha, too, has a piece of copy paper from someone’s printer, and all she has is a table depicted with plates and forks and knives and a vase of flowers in the middle. In the background is the altar with a few flowers drawn on—all daisies. Anyone can draw a daisy, Deja thinks.
Rosario, enthusiastic as ever, says, “Okay, what’s the score?”
Angela holds up a card with a five on it.
The Red Roses are winning.
But then Yolanda comes through with the invitation. She must have copied a real one. The invitation is on cream-colored card stock, and she used a gold pen to write the words.
Angela, without being asked, holds up a card with a ten on it. The Purple Lilacs cheer and slap palms. They’ve just moved ahead. Ayanna’s invitation earns only a four. She’s made hers like an invitation to a kiddie birthday party, with lines for what, when, and where. It looks nothing like a wedding invitation.
Menus are next. “You go first, Deja,” Nikki insists.
Deja knows it’s because Nikki thinks hers is way better and she’s going to win everyone over with her cake samples.
“What’s tofu?” Ayanna asks as Deja’s menu is passed around.
“It’s stuff that’s real healthy,” Angela answers.
Deja takes her menu back and reads off everything on it, from beverages to dessert, to a passive, perplexed audience. The judges already have their heads together, and when she finishes, they raise a card that has a seven on it. It’s better than she expected. She shrugs and sits down.
Before Rosario can turn to Nikki, she has already unveiled her surprise samples and has begun passing out purple construction paper menus. There, in her mother’s plastic Tupperware, are odd brown cubes that look like small wooden children’s blocks. Some have clumps of chocolate frosting, some have vanilla, and some are smeared with red jam.
“First, I’ll read my menu. Then each of you can have one of my petit fours, which is going to be my dessert.”
The menus are written in marker. Nikki seems to be really proud of her creation. She reads to the group, “Appetizers (because you have to start with appetizers): Chocolate Chip Cookies or Corn Chips and Red Dip. Drinks: Lemonade or Root Beer or Coffee (for people who like coffee). Main Dish: Spaghetti or Fried Chicken and Potato Salad. Dessert: Petit Fours.”
“Where’s something green?” Deja asks. “You always have to have something green.”
“No, you don’t,” Nikki says, looking annoyed.
“Your menu doesn’t sound like something from a cookbook. It sounds like you just thought it up.”
“You can find all my dishes in any cookbook,” Nikki says to Deja. Then she turns to the group. “I’ve brought samples of my petit fours. You all get to have one.”
Nikki proudly holds out her plastic container to each girl so she can select one of her creations. A few look a little doubtful as they decide which to choose. Ayanna, perhaps in support of a team member, attempts to bite down on hers right away. ChiChi follows suit, but Antonia just looks at hers.
The Lilacs, with their petit fours in hand, wait and watch. As soon as they see Ayanna struggling to bite her little cake with her front teeth and switching to her side teeth, they try to bite down on theirs.
“This is like a brick!” Keisha says.
“I can’t even eat mine!” Rosario seconds. “I can’t even bite it. I could break my tooth!”
Deja doesn’t say anything. She just tries real hard not to burst into laughter. She puts hers back in the container. As everyone protests that Nikki’s dessert could break a tooth, the judges each grab a cake and attempt a bite, just so they can join in.
“This is worth a two!” Angela exclaims, not bothering to hold up a card and not taking into consideration that the dessert represents only a part of the menu.
No one but Deja seems to notice the look on Nikki’s face. When she snaps the lid onto the container and marches off, they all look after her, surprised. She doesn’t even stop when the freeze bell rings. Rosario watches Nikki for a second, then announces, “We win! The Purple Lilacs are wedding planning champs!”
8
Nikki in a Snit
Nikki
Nikki knows she’s lucky that she doesn’t get into trouble. Mrs. Butler, the yard lady, is busy fussing at one of the big boys from fifth grade. She misses Nikki stomping across the yard to Room Ten’s line. Nikki has nothing to say when Deja joins the line. Nothing to say when Deja tells her that her team, the Purple Lilacs, won the wedding planners contest. Nikki just gives one of those quick shoulder shrugs that a person can hardly see.
Nikki has nothing to say when Deja’s auntie picks them up after school, either. Auntie Dee will get to pick them up all the time, now that she’s not working. Both girls sit in the back seat, staring out of opposite windows.
“What’s with you two?”Auntie Dee asks.
Nikki just shakes her head. She doesn’t feel like talking. But then she thinks of what her mother would say about not answering an adult’s question. “Nothing,” she says.
“What do you have there in that plastic container?” Auntie Dee persists. The container sits primly on Nikki’s lap.
Nikki looks down at it now. “Just something I made,” she says in a very small voice.
Deja pipes up then. “Nikki made some little cakes to give out at our wedding planners contest.”
Nikki looks over at Deja sharply, trying to decide whether Deja is making fun. She remembers the look on Deja’s face and how she was trying not to laugh when everyone was talking bad about her petit fours. She didn’t even try to stick up for Nikki. Plus, she put her own cake back in the container without even trying to eat it.
“Oh,” Auntie Dee says cheerily, “I hope you saved one for me.”
“There’s a lot left over,” Nikki says glumly.
“Yeah,” Deja agrees. “There’s a lot left over.”
Nikki shoots Deja another look to check the expression on her face. But Deja looks perfectly innocent.
Nikki’s mother is in the kitchen, frowning at the empty sugar canister in her hand. She looks up as Nikki puts her backpack on the table.
“Honey, your backpack doesn’t belong on the table.”
Nikki moves it to the bottom step of the stairs.
“Not there, either. Someone could trip over it. Put it on the floor next to the front door.”
Nikki stomps back to the door and plops down the backpack heavily. When she returns to the kitchen, her mother is looking at
her with a frown.
“Did someone have a bad day?”
Pouting, Nikki says, “No.”
Her mother seems to ignore this. Instead, she asks, “What happened to the sugar? I’m sure I had enough left to make blueberry muffins, but...”
Nikki remembers the sugar she spilled in the sink. “I don’t know,” she says, feeling her eyes grow big.
Her mother stares at her for a moment, then squints.
Nikki can’t stay silent. “I tried to make some petit fours for my wedding planners team,” she blurts out. Her eyes fill with tears.
“Your what?”
“We made up these wedding planners teams—just pretend—for Ms. Shelby’s wedding. And I was the one who had to do the menu. What her guests would be eating and stuff. So I wanted to make a sample of my dessert. These petit fours I saw in your cookbook.” Nikki is determined to rush through the next part of her explanation before her mother can fully understand that Nikki did something wrong. “So I got permission from Daddy—you were at your book club,” she says to her mother’s frowning face, “and Daddy said I could, but to be careful. And I was careful.”
“But you used all the sugar. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” she says in a small voice, looking down.
“Never mind about that now. What’s done is done. But no more making anything in this kitchen unless you get my permission.”
Nikki nods and starts for the door, but her mother stops her with, “Do you have any petit fours left?”
“I have a lot left.”
“Well, let me see how they turned out.”
Nikki gets her backpack and pulls out the plastic container. She’d planned to sneak the whole thing outside to the trash can, dump the cakes, wash the container in the bathroom, then sneak it back into the kitchen cabinet.
Now she opens the container and sets it on the table.
“My...” Her mother peers at the jumbled mound of hardened cubes. She plucks one out and attempts to bite down. “Whoa, that’s pretty hard!” she exclaims, trying to chew. When she’s finally able to swallow, she says, “Honey, next time let’s do the baking together.”
The rock cakes are forgotten the next morning when Nikki runs down the stairs. Saturday has finally come. She gets to go to the mall and look for a party dress and new shoes and a present for Ms. Shelby! Her feelings from yesterday have faded, but she’s still mad at Deja for not coming to her defense when everyone was laughing at her. She thinks about how Deja has to go look for fabric and a pattern so Miss Ida can make her dress. Nikki can’t help smiling. She gets to buy something from Rendells. That gives her a special satisfaction. As Deja would say, “Hah, hah, and hah!”
The mall is full of shoppers. Nikki’s mom has already decided where they will be going first. “We’ll check the registry, and then we’ll look for shoes and a dress for you.”
That sentence alone fills Nikki’s stomach with butterflies. It’s so exciting to do all this shopping for herself and her teacher.
“Housewares with the bridal registry is on the third floor,” her mother says, consulting the store map and then leading the way to the escalator. Nikki is always a bit careful about getting on escalators. They can be tricky. Before she can lose her nerve, her mother takes her by the hand and leads her on.
Housewares is full of... housewares. So much to choose from. Nikki’s mom seems to be an old hand at registries. She knows just where to go. There’s a kiosk next to the register that has a kind of computer attached. She pulls the invitation out of her purse, checks it, and then begins to type something on the screen. Before she knows it, Nikki sees a printer spit out a long white sheet.
“We’ll go up to the café to look at it,” Nikki’s mom says, heading toward the escalators again. Nikki feels another flutter of excitement. While they sit in the café and pore over the list of possible wedding gifts, her mom drinks coffee and Nikki gets to drink hot chocolate. She thinks, This is the most wonderful Saturday morning I’ve ever had.
There are all kinds of things on the list: a queen jacquard embroidered comforter set in dusty green print; a plush gray towel set; a Bella Cucina juicer; special extra-firm pillows; a panini grill; a jumbo griddle; china settings (you can buy one place setting or more); a crystal goblet; a fancy silver fruit bowl; a special kind of spice rack; a collection of serveware; a silver frame; china vases ... it all makes Nikki’s head spin. She knows, more than anything, that she absolutely, absolutely, absolutely must have a big wedding when she grows up. She can’t think of anything greater than giving her guests a long list of everything she wants. And them having to buy stuff from her list. What could be better?
They decide on the panini maker. “The next person who uses the registry will see that the panini maker is already bought,” Nikki’s mother explains. “That way your teacher won’t get more than one.” This is marvelous, Nikki thinks. Everything about weddings is wonderful!
After that, they head to the girls’ department, then straight to the dressy dress section. Immediately Nikki sees the dress she wants. It has a wide satin sash and bodice and a chiffon skirt. It has little cap sleeves—which her mother likes—and comes in two colors: peach and lavender. In the dressing room, Nikki tries on the lavender first. Then she comes out so her mother can see it.
“It’s perfect,” her mother says. “That was easy. Take it off so we can buy it.”
“I’m not getting it,” Nikki says. She had made up her mind in the dressing room. “I’m going to get the peach one. Lavender is Deja’s favorite color, and she can’t get a new dress. Her aunt has to have one made for her. She’d only feel worse if I got the lavender one.”
Nikki’s mom looks surprised; then she smiles. “Good thinking,” she says. And they’re off to the shoe department.
“But I’m still mad at her,” Nikki adds. She feels she has to get that in.
As they’re heading for their car in the parking lot, Nikki holding the bag with her new shoes, and her mother holding the garment bag with the new dress in it and the bag with the panini grill, they run into Deja and her aunt heading to their car. Deja is holding a bag with LUANN FABRICS written on it.
“Look who’s here!” Nikki’s mom says, smiling down at Deja. Nikki knows she’s acting extra happy on purpose. Nikki’s mom and Auntie Dee give each other a quick hug. Why do women do that all the time, Nikki wonders, when they see each other unexpectedly?
She, on the other hand, gives Deja as tiny a “hello” as possible.
Deja returns a tiny “hello”; then her eyes settle on the garment bag and quickly move to the bag in Nikki’s hand. She looks down. While the grownups gush and talk about the usual things women talk about—Nikki isn’t really listening—she and Deja just stand there, not speaking.
Finally Deja breaks the silence with “Are those your new shoes?” The question makes Nikki feel a little bit guilty.
“Yeah,” she says.
Deja’s eyes go to the garment bag again. But she doesn’t need to ask, it seems. She says nothing.
After they part, each walking her own way, Nikki wishes she’d remembered to say to Deja about her new dress, “It’s not lavender!”
9
Cool Days
Deja
On Tuesday morning Deja is sitting in the back of Auntie Dee’s car, staring out of her window. Nikki is sitting beside her, but not very close. She’s staring out of the opposite window, again. As usual, Nikki has almost nothing to say to Deja. Yesterday, Deja noticed that Nikki was sidling up to ChiChi at morning and lunch recess, and they’d gone off on their own to the jump rope area. In response, Deja purposely brought out her SSR book so she could read on the bench and not pay any attention to Nikki and her new friends. Who cares? Deja thinks. She isn’t about to show that she notices that Nikki’s been hanging around with someone else.
She thinks about Saturday morning at LuAnn Fabrics. Suddenly she feels a little scared. She and Auntie found a pattern for her dress
for Ms. Shelby’s wedding. They found beautiful satin and chiffon material. The word chiffon makes Deja think of pie heaped with whipped cream. There was lavender chiffon, and peach chiffon as well. Deja chose the peach because she suspected that Nikki had gotten her dress in lavender, even though she knew it was Deja’s favorite color. Deja was determined not to be twins with Nikki.
“Not lavender?” Auntie had asked, holding up the lavender chiffon.
“No, I want the peach,” Deja said.
She thinks about Miss Ida now, wondering if she’ll really be able to follow the pattern’s directions and make her dress look exactly like the picture on the front of the envelope. What if she can’t? What if she makes it real sloppy and Deja has to wear it anyway?
At morning recess, Deja brings out her SSR book again and settles onto the bench to read it.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Deja looks up, surprised to see Nikki standing before her.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you sitting over here by yourself?”
Deja supposes Nikki is just rubbing it in—that she has people to play with and Deja doesn’t. “I feel like reading my book, that’s all,” Deja replies.
“Whatever,” Nikki says, turning to get back to her friends in the jump rope area.
Deja sits there stewing. Nikki’s probably happy that Auntie Dee lost her job. No, she probably doesn’t even remember it. Hah, hah, and hah, that she got a two on her little cakes. Deja smiles, thinking back on it. She almost laughs.
At lunch recess, for the second day in a row, Nikki runs out ahead with Keisha and ChiChi to the jump rope area. Deja decides she’ll jump rope, too. Why not? They don’t own the jump rope area. Besides, she’s good at jumping rope. She plans to jump and jump until the freeze bell rings. When Deja reaches them, they’re already jumping double dutch: Nikki and Keisha are turning the ropes and ChiChi is jumping. Deja can’t believe her eyes. Nikki, who has no rhythm, is turning the ropes—in rhythm! Who taught her that?
Wedding Drama Page 5