Mia's Golden Bird

by Lisa Schroeder

  “It’s okay,” Mia told her. “We can handle it. Lacy, you can’t be like the clapper rail. You can’t hide forever. You’re missing out on too much. If they want to take pictures of four girls chatting and eating, so what? Unless you’re ashamed of me or something.”

  “Mia,” Lacy said. “You are the best. How could I ever be ashamed of you?”

  “What if I told you we’re having pigs in a bunk bed for dinner?”

  Lacy laughed. “Um. What is that, exactly?”

  “Layers of pancakes with sausages tucked in between,” Mia explained.

  “Oh,” Lacy said. “That sounds good. Nothing to be ashamed of at all.” She paused. “Unless you’re going to dump ketchup all over the thing, like that kid you told me about. Cesar somebody. Now that would be shameful.”

  Mia laughed. “No ketchup, I promise. Just really good pancakes. And friends.”

  “That sounds like an awesome night to me,” Lacy said.

  And that’s exactly what it was.

  It was the day of Mia’s surprise, a Saturday.

  Mia stood in front of the mirror in the guest room at Lacy’s house. She twirled around and around, admiring the dress she wore. Apparently wherever they were going was kind of fancy, but Lacy hadn’t wanted Mia to stress over what to wear.

  “I have tons of dresses and outfits and I’m sure we can find something you’ll love,” she’d told Mia as they made plans for the day.

  Mia had picked out a simple blue dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a skirt that flared out. She wore black tights and simple black flats she’d brought from home.

  When she walked out into the hallway, Lacy was waiting for her.

  “Wow,” Lacy said. “You look amazing. Fabulous. Incredible!”

  Mia smiled. “You sound like your grandma Gail.”

  “But it’s all true.”

  “You look pretty good yourself,” Mia said. Lacy wore a gorgeous antique white lace dress with red heels that matched her red lipstick. She couldn’t have looked more like a movie star.

  “When are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Mia asked.

  “Never.”

  “Never?”

  “Nope. It will ruin the fun of the surprise. You’ll see when we get there.” Lacy grabbed Mia’s hand and tugged at her. “Come on. The driver’s waiting.”

  As they descended the stairs, a well-dressed woman, who had been talking to Alice near the bottom of the stairs, turned and waved. “Oh my goodness,” she called out, “don’t you two look like you’ve just stepped out of a magazine?”

  “Thanks,” Lacy replied. When they reached the two women, Lacy said, “Mom, this is my friend Mia.”

  Lacy’s mom extended her hand. “So lovely to meet you, Mia.”

  Mia smiled and took her hand. “Thanks. You too.”

  “I wish I could go with you girls,” Lacy’s mom said, “but I have plans this evening. In fact, I need to go and get ready myself. You’ll be all right, won’t you, love?”

  “We’ll be fine,” Lacy said. “Have fun.”

  “You too.” She kissed Lacy on the cheek and then headed up the stairs.

  Mia turned to Alice. “I left my camera bag by the door. Is it still there?”

  “I believe so,” Alice said.

  “I was wondering if you’d mind taking a picture of the two of us. It’s so sad that I don’t have any of the two of us together.”

  “Of course,” Alice said. “Just show me what to do, and I’m happy to do that for you.”

  Mia got her camera, gave Alice a quick lesson, and then Lacy and Mia posed at the bottom of the pretty staircase.

  “Thanks so much,” Mia said.

  “You’re welcome,” Alice said. “Now you girls better get going. Have fun.”

  “We will,” Lacy said.

  All week Mia had tried to figure out what the surprise could be. She knew it had something to do with her photos. She wondered if maybe Lacy had entered her in some kind of photography contest. It was the only thing she could think of that made any sense. But why did they have to dress up and go somewhere? Unless … Maybe the prizes were being awarded tonight at an awards ceremony.

  Had Mia won something? If so, what could it be? Money? A trip? A new camera?

  “I can’t stand the suspense,” Mia said. “I wish you’d tell me where we’re going.”

  Lacy gave a little shrug. “I know. Sorry.”

  As the driver made his way down the road in the town car, Mia turned and watched the cars of paparazzi behind them. It had to get annoying having people follow you every time you left your house.

  “They’re always hoping they’ll catch me doing something scandalous,” Lacy said. “I love disappointing them all the time.”

  “Yeah, they seemed pretty upset that you met three boring girls for dinner a couple of weeks ago instead of meeting up with some cute boy or something,” Mia said.

  “I had so much fun that night at the restaurant with you and your friends,” Lacy said. “I’m glad you made me come.”

  “Me too,” Mia said.

  When they reached their destination, Lacy squeezed Mia’s hand. “I really hope you like your surprise.”

  By then, Mia was a bundle of nerves, as excitement had turned into anxiousness somewhere along the way. “Me too,” Mia said truthfully.

  After the driver opened the door, the girls stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of a cool modern building. Before Mia could inspect her surroundings further, a couple of large men hurried them in through the front door as camera flashes went off all around them.

  “It’s a private party,” she heard one of them saying to someone.

  A party? What kind of party?

  Once inside, what Mia saw took her breath away. It was ten times better than any kind of awards event or anything else she could have imagined.

  She grabbed on to Lacy’s arm to steady herself as she took it all in. On a large sign to their right, printed in a beautiful font, it said, PHOTOGRAPHY BY LOCAL ARTIST MIA CRUZ. And all around, hung on the walls, were framed prints of her photos, in various sizes.

  Photos of birds, like the white pelicans, the belted kingfisher, and the light-footed clapper rail.

  Photos of the shoreline at the lagoon.

  Photos of various flowers and plants.

  But what really amazed Mia was the fact that the room was full of people. People who were walking around the room, looking at her photos. Talking about them. And by the looks of a cash register at the back of the room, buying them as well.

  “Lacy,” Mia said, finally finding her voice. “What have you done?”

  “Isn’t it just so cool?” Lacy said, her eyes sparkling. “I called in a favor with the person who owns this gallery. He helped me get everything ready for tonight.”

  “But the photos,” Mia said. “I only gave you prints. You didn’t have the memory cards, did you?”

  Lacy rubbed her hands together. “Your mom helped me with that. I stopped in at the café one day while you were at school. I had her replace the ones in your camera bag with new cards, so I could use them for the show. Pretty sneaky, right? Anyway, the gallery owner and I both spread the word to people we work with. And so, here we are.”

  “Wait. Are these people here because they feel sorry for me, then?” Mia asked. “I mean, what did you tell them, exactly?”

  “No, they aren’t here because they feel sorry for you! I told them I had a very talented friend who would be having an art show featuring her fabulous photography, and they should come and check it out. That’s it. That’s all they needed to know. Because it’s the truth.”

  “I can’t believe you did this,” Mia said, reaching over and giving Lacy a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mia’s eyes scanned the room, and her hand flew to her mouth when she realized Lacy wasn’t the only famous person in attendance.

  Mia leaned in and whispered, “Lacy, over there in the cor
ner. The guy in the black jeans and the button-down steel-gray shirt. Is that —”

  Lacy grinned. “Yep. The one and only Levi Vincent. You want to meet him? Not only is he super-cute, but he’s sweet as candy too.”

  Mia could hardly believe this was happening. “What? No, I can’t meet him. He’s my absolute favorite, and I have no idea what I would possibly say to Levi Vincent.”

  “Just say hi and that you’re a fan of his work. But don’t drool on him, okay? And hey, you could get your picture taken with him. Make all of your friends jealous.” Before Mia could respond, Lacy pointed in his direction. “Look! Ohmygosh, he’s buying one of the kingfisher prints. Come on, now you definitely have to meet him, since he’s obviously a fan of your work.”

  “Wait,” Mia said, holding Lacy back. “I’m not ready. I mean, this is not what I expected. At all.” She shook her head a little, still trying to take it all in. “I know I already said it, but thank you so much for doing this. It really means a lot.”

  Lacy waved her hand and said, “It’s not a problem. By the way, you’ve already sold three large prints, to my grandma. It’s really adorable how excited she is about them. Now she can say good morning to her beloved clapper rail every day when she wakes up in the morning and good night before she falls asleep.”

  People were buying Mia’s photos. Which meant Mia would get money for camp. It all seemed too good to be true.

  “And to think that none of this would have happened if you hadn’t come into the café that Sunday morning,” Mia said.

  “Right place, right time, as my grandma likes to say.”

  “For sure.”

  Lacy pulled on Mia’s hand. “And you know, you are going to be so upset with yourself if you don’t take advantage of this moment, right here, right now, and meet Levi Vincent.”

  “Do you promise you’ll stay with me the entire time?” Mia asked, smoothing down her dress as they walked.

  “I promise.”

  “Do you promise he won’t think I’m weird, taking photos of different kinds of birds?”

  “Weird?” Lacy said. “Why would he think that’s weird?” They walked a few more steps until they were standing directly behind Levi. “Birds are awesome. Everyone knows that. Right, Levi?”

  Levi turned around and gave the girls his million-dollar smile, complete with dimples. “Oh yeah. Totally awesome,” he said.

  Mia’s favorite word, spoken by her favorite singer/actor who was buying one of her favorite photos so she could return to her favorite place next summer — Camp Brookridge.

  She remembered Caitlin’s words. Sometimes awesome shows up when you least expect it. And sometimes, Mia thought, it even shows up wearing gold sunglasses and designer shoes.

  Right place. Right time. What luck!

  Libby climbed the stepladder and reached for the jar of chocolate frogs. Rebecca’s favorite, she thought. They weren’t real frogs, of course — white chocolate in the shape of a frog, with green coloring. A strange candy, to be sure.

  Also strange? How much her best friend, Rebecca, had changed over the course of six weeks, while Libby had been away at summer camp. Try as she might, Libby couldn’t figure out what had happened while she’d been away. It was as much of a mystery to her as why someone would want to eat a piece of candy in the shape of a frog.

  With the jar in hand, she carefully climbed back down and went to the counter. This was her job every Saturday — to fill the jars of candy in her aunt and uncle’s sweetshop. Her uncle paid her an allowance for doing so, though Libby didn’t really have a choice in the matter. It was a family business, and as part of the family, she had to do her part.

  When she’d begun working at the (very part-time) job at the age of ten, Rebecca had been so envious. “Think of how many sweets you can eat,” she’d said. “After all, you must sample one of everything to make sure you don’t have a bad batch.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Libby had said. “My uncle would be so upset if I ate that many. And even if he didn’t mind, just think of the stomachache I’d get.”

  “But it would be the sweetest stomachache of your life,” Rebecca had said.

  Now Libby sighed as she put the jar back where it belonged. She couldn’t deny it; she missed her bestie. But Rebecca seemed to be quite taken with her new group of friends, especially the ones who were boys.

  The bell over the door jingled, as it always did when a customer walked in. With the jar in its rightful place, Libby returned to the counter as her uncle rushed out from the back room to offer assistance. Except it wasn’t someone looking to buy candy. It was someone delivering flowers.

  “Good afternoon,” the delivery man said.

  “Hello,” Uncle Oliver replied as he ran his hand through his messy brown hair. “More flowers, I see.”

  “Yes.” The delivery man handed Uncle Oliver the bouquet of red and white roses before he said, “I hope you enjoy them.”

  “Thank you,” Uncle Oliver replied.

  Libby’s great-grandmother had passed away the week before. Many of the townsfolk in Tunbridge Wells, England knew Libby’s family because of the candy store they owned: Mr. Pemberton’s Olde Sweetshop. It was nice that people were thinking of them, Libby thought, but their house was beginning to look too much like a floral shop. Every day her uncle brought the flowers home, since there wasn’t room for them in their small place of business.

  “I hope this is the last of them,” Uncle Oliver said. “Is that terrible of me to say?”

  “No, because I was thinking the same thing,” Libby said.

  Her uncle smiled. “It’s very thoughtful of everyone. And kind. And we appreciate it, of course.”

  “Yes,” Libby said. “Too bad people don’t send something a little more useful, though.”

  “When your parents died all those years ago,” he said as he set the bouquet down in a spot next to the register, “and you came to live with us, friends and acquaintances brought us meals. It was quite nice, although we didn’t have much of an appetite for a time afterwards.”

  Libby didn’t remember much from that time, since she’d been so young. “I know what you mean,” she replied, walking out from behind the counter. “It’s hard to eat when you’re sad. The last morning at Camp Brookridge, before we all had to head for home, hardly anyone ate their breakfast.”

  The bell above the door jingled again, and this time, much to their relief, some customers strolled in. As Uncle Oliver walked over to greet the Thomason family, Libby started to sneak out, through the back. Her duties were done, and she was ready to go home. Libby and her uncle had an agreement that once the jars had been restocked, Libby could leave. But she heard Mrs. Thomason say something that made her stop and listen.

  “Are you worried about the new sweetshop opening up soon?” Mrs. Thomason was asking her uncle.

  “Not worried at all,” Uncle Oliver replied with a smile. “As you know, this shop has been in my family for fifty years, and no one knows sweets like we do. I am certain we will always have the best selection in town. Now, what may I help you with today?”

  As he turned, he spotted Libby, and so she waved to let him know she was heading for home. Once outside, she hopped on her bike and pedaled, thinking about what her uncle had said.

  Not worried at all.

  She knew, from conversations her aunt and uncle had at home, that wasn’t exactly true. Having another sweetshop fairly close by was pretty worrisome. Candy wasn’t like produce; a person could go months without eating any. And now that there would be two shops in town, it could mean half the amount of business for the Pembertons.

  Thankfully, their somewhat small town, which was quaint and charming and a wonderful place to live, did get a fair number of tourists every year. After all, there was much to see and do, with beautiful gardens and a few castles in the area to explore. People also came to visit the well-known Chalybeate Spring, discovered some four hundred years ago and, at one time, believed to miraculousl
y cure people’s illnesses.

  But even with the tourists, it was hard to imagine that two sweetshops could really thrive in a town that wasn’t especially large.

  Libby recalled the time she’d tried to describe her English town to her three camp BFFs, Mia, Caitlin, and Hannah. They’d all been so curious about what it was like for Libby to live in England, since none of them had ever traveled outside of the States.

  “It’s quite lovely,” she’d told them. “We’re not very far from London, maybe sixty kilometers or so, and we’re surrounded by gorgeous countryside. My uncle says we’re fortunate to have some of England’s best gardens near by.”

  “What are the houses like?” Caitlin had asked Libby.

  “We have many large, Victorian houses, but there are also lots of clapboard cottages too,” Libby had said.

  “I’m not really sure what any of that means,” Mia had said, “but it sounds awesome!”

  “The three of us should visit her one day,” Hannah had said. “Wouldn’t that be something, all of us in jolly old England?”

  They’d all agreed it would be a lot of fun.

  It only took Libby a few minutes to get home. When she walked in the front door, the smell of freshly baked bread greeted her. Her aunt yelled, “Hi, Libby. I’m in the kitchen. Come see what the postman brought for you.”

  She couldn’t get to the kitchen fast enough. Her aunt Jayne stood there wearing a cute green-and-blue apron, her curly brown hair pulled back with barrettes, as she held the package out in front of her. Libby clapped her hands together quickly before she grabbed it and read the name of the person who sent it.

  “It’s from Mia!” Libby cried, and took off for her room, her long ponytail swishing side to side as went. “I’d hoped it would be something from one of my summer camp friends.”

  “Everything go all right at the shop today?” her aunt called after her.

  Libby stopped and turned around. “Yes. We got more flowers.”

  “Brilliant,” Aunt Jayne said. “Just what we need. All right, go along and open your package. I can’t wait to see what it is, when you feel like sharing.”