Awesome indeed.
Happy birrrrrth-daaaaay, dear Eeeee-liiii!” we all sang on Monday afternoon. “Happy birthday to youuuuu!”
I leaned over to Thea, who was sitting next to me in our circle on the carpet. “I can’t believe Eli’s birthday was yesterday. Why didn’t he say something at the farm?”
“Because he’s a MAN OF MYSTERY,” Thea whispered back.
Eli didn’t want our class to do the “What I Admire About Eli” part of the birthday circle, so as soon as the singing stopped, he started handing out the treat he’d brought.
“My mom made chocolate chip brownies,” he said, passing the first one to Lucas. He began making his way around the circle. I got up to get a cookie from home.
But suddenly, Eli was next to me. “These, uh, are actually dairy-free brownies.”
“They are?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “That’s really nice. Thank you.” I took a brownie.
“Thank my mom,” Eli said, shrugging and moving on to offer a brownie to Thea. “I told her there was a girl in my class who couldn’t eat dairy, so she found a special recipe.”
I took a bite. It was delicious to be eating the same thing everyone else was eating.
As we walked out of school that day, I caught up with Eli.
“It was really nice that you told your mom about the dairy-free thing,” I said. “Not everyone does that.”
“Well … it was nice that you invited everyone to your farm,” he replied.
“So, uh, why didn’t you tell anyone it was your birthday yesterday?”
“It felt weird to make a big deal out of it,” he said, with one of his famous shrugs. “Besides, I was already having a good day. It was fun to hang out with everyone. Especially Abby and your brother.”
“Beckett said you were really nice.”
Eli smiled. “I like little kids. I have a bunch of younger cousins in California. I miss hanging out with them.”
Wow. That was the most Eli had told me about his family. I started to ask a question when Eli said, “See you tonight.”
And with that, he disappeared into the crowds heading for the buses.
I smiled. Were Eli and I becoming friends?
I rushed home to help Mom and Dad prep the tomatoes. By the time all the Sauce Day volunteers had arrived, Mom and I had the tomatoes ready to simmer, and Cat and Grandpa had sterilized all the jars.
My classmates gathered in the bistro dining room. “Who’s ready to make some Awesome Sauce?” I asked, and everyone cheered—including the grown-ups. Having everyone together, ready to make something big happen, gave me a flutter of excitement.
“All right!” I continued. “Thanks for remembering to wear bandannas.”
“Hair is not one of the ingredients in Awesome Sauce,” Eli said quietly, making everyone laugh.
“There’s a team list at each of the prep stations in the kitchen,” I continued. “Find your spot, and make sure you wash your hands before we start. Let’s go!”
Mom led the group into the kitchen, and everyone took a moment to look around. “This,” a boy named Mark said, “is the shiniest kitchen I’ve ever seen.”
“This used to be the house’s living room, if you can believe that!” I said.
Everyone washed up and found their stations. Dad, Cat, and Grandpa were each at one of the chopping stations, and Mom was at the stove. I darted around the room, making sure everyone had what they needed. At the onion table, I handed out swim goggles to Thea and the other kids, so their eyes wouldn’t tear up from chopping.
Thea put on her goggles, held up an onion, and said, “I come from Planet Sauce-tron. What are these strange food items that make earthlings cry?” Then Thea leaned in and whispered to me, “Isn’t it time to start your Operation Awesome Sauce playlist?”
“What makes you think I have a special playlist?” I asked.
Thea raised an eyebrow at me. “Uh, because you’re Blaire. You always have a special playlist.”
I smiled at her, then found my tablet and speaker and started the music.
Before I knew it, everyone was singing along to the first song, and the sounds of chop chop chop added a beat. At the carrots table, I saw Eli and David joking about something again.
“Hey, Blaire!” David said, calling me over. “Eli just came up with new lyrics for that song. Do it again, Eli.”
Eli looked embarrassed for a moment, then took a deep breath and started singing to the tune of the song’s chorus.
“Carrots … carrots … they give us all the feels. We got kick, and we got crunch … and we also have great peels …”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“Eli! That’s perfect!” Thea said.
“Hey!” I called out. “Let’s have a vegetable theme song contest! My grandpa can be the judge.”
“Only if the winning team gets a pass on cleanup!” Joey answered.
“Deal,” I said.
A few minutes later, Joey’s team sang their song. “Zucchini … Zucchini! You can eat it in a bikini! Don’t confuse it with a cucumber, you should really call it squash … It’s the color of an alligator but it really tastes top-notch!”
I started cracking up, and glanced back over to the carrots team. Wait a sec—Eli wasn’t peeling carrots anymore. He was holding up his tablet and taking video of the rest of his team doing all the work. I went over to his table.
“Um, Eli,” I said, tapping him on the arm. “What are you doing?”
Eli shrugged. “I want to take some video of Sauce Day. Is that okay?”
“Uh … sure. I guess. Just don’t get in anyone’s way.”
“An interview’s more interesting if it’s in the middle of the action,” Eli replied.
“Well, just for a few minutes, then. We really need everyone to keep chopping.”
But Eli didn’t seem to hear me. He was circling the table, taking video of his group working on the carrots. Then he started interviewing Lucas.
I went to the back of the kitchen, where Mom was at the stove, overseeing six large pots of simmering tomato sauce. “How’s it going?” I asked Mom.
“Great!” she said, waving a big wooden spoon at me. “We’ll be ready for veggies in about five minutes.”
“Got it,” I said, turning around. OOF.
I bumped into Eli.
“Sorry,” he said from behind his tablet. “I was just getting footage of the sauce.”
“Be careful,” Mom said. “This is very hot.”
Eli backed away. “Right.”
“Are the carrots ready?” I asked Eli.
“Carrots? Not sure. Let’s go check.” Eli put his tablet down.
There were still a dozen carrots to peel and chop. I sighed, picked up a peeler and a carrot, and got to work.
“Wow,” Eli said. “That’s the fastest peeling I’ve ever seen.”
“My mom taught me,” I said. Then I smiled. “We used to have races to see who could finish first.”
“So did your mom inspire you to do this project?” Eli asked.
I kept peeling as I answered. “She inspired me to like cooking. But it was Abby who inspired me to do this project.”
“Tell me about it,” Eli said.
So I told him about meeting Abby and how I realized she’d like veggies if she had a chance to try some and that my goal for this sauce was to help other families at Helping Hands try new foods, too.
I looked up, expecting to see Eli chopping, but he was holding his tablet. He hadn’t been helping at all. He’d been filming me! “Eli!” I said, totally exasperated.
“Blaire, it’s time for veggies,” Mom called to me.
I looked around the room to see that all the other teams were done with their vegetable prep. But there were still carrots to chop.
I called Thea and Rosie over. “Can you guys help finish here? They ended up shorthanded.” I glared at Eli, who was facing the other way, interviewing Cat.
“We’re on it,” Thea said.<
br />
I turned to see that Eli was headed for the stove. As Mom moved a pot of tomatoes to another burner, Eli started walking toward her.
He was totally going to get in Mom’s way! I raced toward him.
But I stumbled, knocking into Mom’s shoulder. She lost her hold on the sauce, and the pot tipped over. All three of us jumped back as hot red liquid started spilling out.
“Whoa!” someone shouted.
Thinking fast, Mom grabbed the pot and was able to set it upright again. But most of the sauce was now on the floor. It looked like a volcano had erupted and lava was oozing through our restaurant kitchen.
No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening! We’d never get one hundred jars of sauce now!
Mom, Dad, and Cat raced to start cleaning up. Grandpa gathered the other kids out of the way.
Eli had backed up against the wall, wiping sauce off his tablet. Was that all he cared about? I stomped over to him.
“Look what you did!” I snapped. “Now we’re not going to have enough sauce!”
“What I did?” he asked. “You’re the one who made it spill!”
“But you’ve been in everyone’s way today!” I shot back at him. “Doing that video stuff instead of helping!”
“Yeah,” Kristina added. “It was kind of annoying having you in our faces with your tablet while we were trying to work.”
“Maybe you don’t care about this project, but we do,” Sabrina chimed in.
Eli looked at Sabrina, then at me, then at the tablet in his hand. Without saying a word, he took off, past the rest of the class, out of the kitchen. I heard the front door slam. Everyone was silent for a long moment.
“I’ll go check on him,” Dad said, and left the room.
I turned to Mom, feeling like I was going to cry. She put her arm around me.
“Okay, chefs,” Mom said. “Unexpected disasters happen all the time in professional kitchens. Right now we need to finish the sauce so we can fill the jars and get them sealed.”
Mom leaned close to my ear. “Everyone’s going to follow your lead here, Blaire.”
I knew what she was saying. Even though I felt like giving up, I had to keep going. We couldn’t let one mistake ruin the whole project.
I picked up a bowl of carrots and did my best to smile. “Come on. Let’s finish Operation Awesome Sauce.”
Cat and I arrived at Helping Hands with seventy-six jars of Awesome Sauce. I’d wanted to make another batch so we could get to our goal of one hundred, but Mom and the kitchen were too busy the rest of the week, and there weren’t enough vegetables anyway.
Eli had been absent from school on Tuesday and Wednesday, after our fight on Sauce Day. When he came back, he was even quieter than normal, and we managed to go all day Thursday and Friday without talking. I kept thinking he was going to apologize, and we could go back to being sort-of friends again. But he didn’t.
Eileen came outside with a cart to meet Cat and me.
“We’re so excited that you’re here. I’ll help you unload.”
The three of us transferred boxes of sauce, along with the donation of fresh produce, into the food pantry.
“I set up a table for you and your sauce,” she said.
“Thanks,” Cat said. “Sprout, you handle the jars, and I’ll get the fruits and veggies sorted.”
I’d brought along a tablecloth and a mason jar of wildflowers from the farm. I also had recipe cards with ideas for how to use our Awesome Sauce. As I set up the table, I was eager to see Abby. I wanted to make sure she got a jar of sauce.
A little while later, Eileen poked her head in the door. “We’re about to open up. You guys ready?”
“A hundred percent,” I said, spreading my arms out to indicate the arrangement of jars on the table.
A mom with a baby and a toddler came in first. She signed in on a clipboard hanging on the wall, then immediately came over to our table.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
I explained all about the sauce, and how my class made it from fresh ingredients grown on our farm.
The mom picked up a jar and looked at the label. “Wow,” she murmured as she read. “My Italian grandmother used to make something like this. Comfort food!”
“It totally is,” I said. “Here, take a recipe card with it!”
“This is perfect,” the woman said. “My dad turns seventy next week. I’d love to make him a special meal, and maybe this’ll remind him of his mom’s cooking. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
As the woman and her kids walked away, Cat turned to me. “You really made her day.”
“I hope so,” I said.
Several more families and an elderly couple came in and took jars of sauce before they moved on to fill up the rest of their grocery bags. Lots of people had stories about the gardens and fresh vegetables they had, or their grandparents had, growing up.
“There’s nothing like a tomato fresh from the garden,” an older man said. He reminded me of Grandpa.
“Well, this sauce will make you feel like you’re eating fresh tomatoes,” I said.
“You’re so sweet,” his wife said. “Can I give you a hug?”
“Absolutely!” I said, walking around the table for a big squeeze.
It seemed like everyone who visited the pantry came over to our table. Cat and I talked to people nonstop. But where was Abby? She and her dad usually got in line early. I hoped something hadn’t happened to hold them up. I also hoped we didn’t run out of sauce before they got here. I grabbed a jar and stashed it under the table for them, just in case.
“Hey, Cat,” I said, wanting to tell her about the jar I was saving for Abby. But she was talking to a volunteer. I was about to tap Cat on the shoulder when I heard someone call my name.
“Blaire Wilson, is that you?” I turned to see a woman grinning at me. “You probably don’t remember me, but my daughter Peggy used to work at your mom’s restaurant. You were just a little thing back then, running around the farm, greeting guests. You’ve grown so much! What’s in all these jars?”
“I think I do remember you!” I said, and went on to tell her about how we’d cooked up the sauce in the same kitchen her daughter knew so well.
The line kept flowing fast into the room, with people coming up to our table to get jars and thank us. We went through one box of jars, and then another, and still … there was no sign of Abby. I was getting pretty worried. By the time we’d given away most of the last box, I couldn’t take the wondering any longer. Had Abby even shown up at all?
“Be right back,” I told Cat, walking toward the doorway. I saw people lined up all the way down the hall. My heart sank. If we hadn’t spilled that pot of sauce, we might have had enough for everyone. Now I knew for sure we were going to run out.
“Blaire!” I heard Abby’s voice call.
“There you are!” I said as I found her and her dad in the line.
“Our car broke down so we had to get a ride,” she said.
“That’s okay,” I told her, taking her hand. “Come on, I have a jar of sauce set aside just for you.”
We left Abby’s dad holding their place in line, and I brought her into the food pantry room. Cat was gathering up the empty boxes. I reached under the table, feeling for her jar … but it wasn’t there.
“Hold on a sec,” I told Abby, and bent down to look all the way under the table.
The jar was gone.
I stood back up and turned to Cat. “What happened to the jar of sauce that was down here?”
“I just gave it away,” Cat said. “I thought we’d run out, and then I spotted that one.”
I felt an instant lump in my throat, but swallowed it down. Cat saw the look on my face and asked, “Was I not supposed to do that?”
“I was saving it for Abby.”
“Oh my gosh, Blaire! Abby! I’m sorry!”
“No, it’s my fault,” I said, shaking my head. “I meant to tell you, b
ut we were busy and I didn’t get a chance.”
“You mean there’s no more Awesome Sauce?” Abby asked.
I sank down onto the chair so I was eye level with Abby. “So many people came to the food pantry today, and we didn’t have as many jars as we planned.”
Abby bit her lip. “But you promised me. You said the Awesome Sauce would be my new favorite food.”
“I know. I’ll make some more.”
“But I wanted the sauce made from the vegetables I helped pick.” Abby looked down at the floor. Her shoulders sagged. It was like she was a balloon and someone had just let all the air out of her. “I guess I’ll go back to my dad.”
She walked slowly out of the room, pausing at the door to look back at me with a face full of disappointment.
I stood there frozen, not sure what to do next, when Eileen came over, and Cat explained what happened.
“Oh, Blaire. That’s unfortunate. But Abby will be okay. It’s just not so fun for these families, week after week. And our line seems to get longer every Saturday.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t have enough sauce for everyone,” I said, fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t apologize! What you did was absolutely wonderful. Every jar helped someone.”
I nodded, but inside, I felt like I was deflating, just like Abby. I thought of the pot of sauce that had gone to waste. Then I thought of Eli. If he hadn’t been shooting video, he wouldn’t have been in Mom’s way and that pot wouldn’t have spilled. We would have another twenty-four jars of sauce, and Abby would have gotten one.
The first thing I was going to do in school on Monday was ask Ms. Lewis to move my desk as far away from Eli’s as she could.
As soon as I walked into class on Monday morning, everyone wanted to know how things had gone at Helping Hands. So Ms. Lewis had everyone sit down on the rug for Monday Madness. “Tell us about Saturday, Blaire,” she said.
I looked at Eli and thought of the sauce that had been ruined last week. But then I thought about what Mom had said in the kitchen. Everyone was watching for my reaction.
Blaire Cooks Up a Plan (American Girl Page 7