“Yeah, thanks,” Bethany added.
Aly slipped a hair elastic off her wrist and pulled back the top half of her hair. She got down to cleaning and filing and polishing, and Brooke got down to chatting with Bethany. Aly was paying so much attention to Brooke’s conversation about Sadie the dog and how famous she was that she almost spilled the bottle of Under Watermelon polish on Bethany’s flip-flop. Luckily, she caught it just in time and Bethany didn’t notice, and Aly quickly finished.
Brooke glanced into the main salon. “No free dryers,” she reported. “But don’t worry, I’ll fan you.”
She picked up two magazines and waved them back and forth over Bethany’s toes.
“Thanks, you two,” Bethany said. “Jenica was right—this was awesome.”
Just then Mia appeared in the doorway.
“Hey,” she said, cracking her gum. “Aly, right? Your mom said I should come back here.”
“Mia!” Bethany squealed. “I didn’t know you were coming too!”
Mia sat down next to Bethany. “Jenica’s toes looked so cool. I think the whole soccer team should get them. Even though you can’t see the sparkles with our socks and cleats on, we’ll all know we have sparkle power underneath.”
“Some other girls called today,” Aly told them. “But we were booked.”
“Overbooked is more like it,” Mia said. “Did you see the crowd out there? I’m so glad I don’t have to wait on that line.”
Aly got to work while Mia and Bethany chatted. Brooke was still fanning, which made it hard for her to talk. Then Aly accidentally dipped the Orange You Pretty brush in the Strawberry Sunday bottle.
“Aly!” Brooke panted, her eyes huge. “Did you just . . .”
Aly blinked her eyes extremely hard, the Secret Sister Eye Message for I know, but don’t say it out loud! Then she quickly wiped off the brush.
Brooke touched one of Bethany’s toes carefully and pronounced her dry. Then she slid next to Aly. “Do you want me to open and close the polish bottles?” she whispered.
A polish assistant! Just what Aly needed. Sometimes having a sister really was the best thing in the world. Aly and Brooke worked together to finish the pedicure. Then both sisters took up fanning Mia’s toes.
“We need some dryers back here,” Brooke whispered. “My arms are getting tired.”
Aly agreed. When Mia’s nails were dry, both sixth graders stood up.
“Thanks so much,” Bethany said as she was leaving.
“Yeah, thanks,” Mia echoed. “This was a totally awesome pedicure. I’m going to tell the rest of the team that they have to come get some sparkle power.”
“You’re welcome,” Aly and Brooke said together.
“And that would be great!” Brooke added.
Once they were alone, the sisters fell onto the small couch, exhausted but happy. “That was so much fun,” Brooke said. “Even if my arms feel like noodles from all that fanning.”
“You were right before,” Aly said. “If Mom lets us have our own salon back here, we’re going to need dryers—for fingers and for toes.”
All of a sudden, Aly was extra worried about their salon. If Mom had to spend a lot of money to make it work, there was a big chance she’d turn them down.
That’s why, a few hours later, after they’d closed up the salon and were having dinner at Trattoria Spaghetto, Aly found herself unable to swallow her mouthful of meatball.
It didn’t matter if Aly was able to talk or not, though. As usual, Brooke’s mouth didn’t stop going. While she was sucking down spaghetti, Brooke blurted out, “Mom, Aly and I have something important to ask you.”
Aly managed to choke down her food. She pulled the list she and Brooke had made earlier out of the back pocket of her jean shorts.
“We, um,” Aly said, unfolding the paper. “We, um, think that we could really help out at the salon if we, um . . .”
“We want to open our own kid salon!” Brooke said, bouncing up and down in her seat. “In the back room! And we’d do kids’ nails and have parties and it would be good for True Colors because, because . . .”
Aly handed the paper to her mom. “It would be good because we could handle all the kids so you could polish even more grown-ups.”
Mom looked at the girls’ proposal. She read it over once. Then twice. Maybe even three times.
Brooke grabbed Aly’s hand under the table. Aly’s legs were jiggling hard. She couldn’t stop them. Say yes, say yes, she thought.
But Mom sighed.
“This is a terrific idea, girls,” she said. “It would be a big help to me and to the salon. I know I’ve asked Aly to give a few pedicures these last two days, but I can’t agree to this.”
“Why not?” Brooke asked, tears already filling her eyes. Aly felt like she wanted to cry too.
“Because your father and I have spoken about this before. We both agreed that schoolwork and being a kid should always come first for you two. That’s why we both work so hard, why he travels all the time—so you two can focus on being children.”
“But we don’t want to be children,” Brooke cried. “We want a salon.”
Aly bit her lip. “What if we could do both?” she asked. “What if we could be children and run a salon?”
“I don’t think so,” Mom said, finishing the last of her chicken parmesan.
Aly and Brooke looked at each other. They couldn’t eat another bite.
“Okay, kids,” Mom said, leaving some money on the table. “It’s been a long day. Let’s go home.”
On the way home, though, Aly had another idea—one she wouldn’t tell Brooke, in case her sister opened her mouth again. She wasn’t about to give up on the salon just yet. But she would have to wait until tomorrow to put her plan into action.
five
So Berry Blue
Beep, beep, beep.
Aly opened her eyes to the sound of the alarm on her purple polka-dot watch. It beeped softly from its spot underneath her pillow. She pulled it out and clicked it off: 6:45 a.m., just like she’d planned.
Super quietly, Aly slid out of her bed. She turned the doorknob really slowly so it wouldn’t make its normal loud click and tiptoed down the hallway to the kitchen. She wished her parents would let her have a cell phone so she could make calls whenever and wherever she wanted, but that was another Tanner rule: No cell until middle school.
Right next to the toaster oven was the phone. Aly picked up it up and walked over to the back door—as far away from Mom’s bedroom as possible. She dialed.
Ring, ring, ring.
Answer already, Aly thought anxiously.
“Hello?” a deep voice answered. “Honey? Is everything okay?”
“It’s me, Dad,” Aly whispered. “Not Mom. And everything’s okay. Except for not exactly everything.”
Aly leaned against the door, resting her head against the pale gray window shade.
“What do you mean?” Dad said, sounding worried.
“I mean—” Aly took a deep breath, and when she let it out, all the words came with it. “I mean that when you get home, you have to talk to Mom because Brooke and I don’t care about our childhoods, and the thing we want to do most is polish other kids’ nails at True Colors in the back room, and even if you and Mom don’t want us to work, we want to, and also it’ll teach us a lot of responsibility for when we’re older, plus it’ll help Mom out a lot at the salon because it’s mega-busy and it’s making her tired and also it’ll be fun.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “So, you girls asked Mom, and she said no?”
Now there was a pause on Aly’s end. “Yes,” she said, in her smallest voice.
Dad sighed. “Let’s talk about this when I’m home tonight,” he said. “Okay?”
All of a sudden, Aly got a little excited inside. “You mean there’s still hope?”
“There’s always hope, Alligator, but I’ve got a plane to catch. We’ll all talk later.”
Her father said, “I love you.” Aly did the same and beeped off. Then she crept back to her room, got into her bed, and closed her eyes. But she was much too excited to sleep. So she got her favorite purple pen and a piece of frog-shaped paper and started a new list, writing down all the things that she and Brooke would learn from running a salon, like how to be responsible and organized and patient. When Aly heard Mom turning the doorknob, she stuffed the list underneath her pillow and pretended to snore.
“Move George over, Brookie,” Mom said after she’d opened the blinds to let the sun in. Brooke put her stuffed monkey on the night table, and Mom lay down next to her.
“Uh-oh,” Aly said. “What’s the matter? Is Dad okay?” She started to worry, even though he had sounded fine when she’d spoken to him earlier.
“Everything is fine, girls,” Mom said. “But how about you don’t come with me to the salon today? Aly, why don’t you go swimming at the Y with Lily? And, Brooke, there’s an art class there at the same time.”
Aly felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. No salon? But that was her favorite place in the world. It was where she belonged. Plus, she hated swim class. Mean Suzy Davis was there.
Before Aly could say anything, Brooke took matters into her own hands: She started crying. Wailing, really.
Mom tried to put her arms around Brooke, but Brooke turned to face the wall.
“Why are you being so me-ean?” Brooke hiccuped, still not looking at Mom. “First no k-kid salon, a-and now no Tr-rue Colors?”
“Brooke,” Mom said. “Enough.”
“It’s n-not enough,” Brooke sobbed.
“Really, Mom,” Aly said. “We don’t want go to the Y today. Especially not to go swimming. Please let us come. Please?”
Mom looked at her watch. Then she looked at Aly and Brooke. Finally, she shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “But now we’re running late. Let’s get a move on.”
It took only three seconds for Brooke to stop crying. Aly was impressed—she could never stop crying that quickly. Once she got started, tears kept coming.
Three green lights and two stop signs later, the Tanners pulled up in front of True Colors.
Aly and Brooke ran to the front door, but Mom got out of the car and stopped. In the middle of the sidewalk. Staring at a glittery banner on the empty store across the street—the one that used to be a candy shop: COMING SOON! PRINCESS POLISH! A NAIL SALON FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY! When did that sign show up? It wasn’t there yesterday!
Mom stared at it for three minutes, according to Aly’s watch. Then her mouth made a really straight line, and she marched into True Colors without looking at the girls. Clearly, Mom was not having a very good morning.
“Why is another salon coming across the street?” Brooke asked Aly.
Aly shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess they want to polish people’s nails too.”
“But,” Brooke said, her lower lip wobbling, “but what if people like that salon better than ours? What if Mrs. Franklin stops coming? And Miss Lulu? And all the other regulars?”
Aly figured that’s just what Mom was worried about—why she had stood so long on the sidewalk.
“I think we just have to make sure they don’t,” Aly said. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to do our jobs today the very best we can. If something might possibly go wrong, we’re going to stop it before it does. We’ve got to make sure everyone knows True Colors is the best salon ever.”
six
Orange You Pretty
Later that afternoon, when the salon rush had slowed down a bit, Brooke, Aly, and Joan were having their traditional Sunday Pizza Picnic in the back room. The door to the main salon was open, and it was finally quiet enough to hear the background music over the hum of nail dryers and conversation. Aly couldn’t help bopping her head a little while she chewed. When it was quiet like this, True Colors really felt like home.
“Want to trade your pepperoni for my mushrooms?” Brooke asked Joan.
“Sure thing,” Joan answered, peeling three pieces of pepperoni off her pizza slice and handing them over.
Brooke popped them in her mouth and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Joan asked. She looked over at Aly, but Aly shrugged. She had no idea why her nut-ball sister was having a fit about pepperoni.
“No pepperoni for Joanie!” Brooke laughed. “It rhymes!”
Joan smiled. “You mean like . . . no cookie for Brookie?”
Brooke stopped laughing immediately. “But . . . I get a cookie, right?”
Joan finished swallowing Brooke’s mushrooms. “Of course you get a cookie. I’m testing out a new recipe. The rest of the manicurists are waiting for your verdict before they give it a go.”
Aly loved Sunday Pizza Picnics. She loved that Joan brought them cookies to try. She even loved the way everyone else in the salon waited until Aly and Brooke gave a cookie two thumbs up before they ate it. Basically, Aly loved everything about True Colors.
“This is the best place in the world, isn’t it?” Aly asked as Joan handed her a raspberry–peanut butter macaron.
“Absolutely!” Brooke said, snuggling next to Joan and taking a cookie from the tin.
Aly let her head rest against Joan’s other shoulder.
“So what do you think?” Joan asked as the girls bit into the cookies.
“It tastes like you turned a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into a cookie.” Brooke said, looking up at Joan. “How did you do that?”
“A baker never tells her secrets.” Joan winked. “What do you think, Aly?”
Aly let the taste of the cookie settle on her tongue. “This is what I like about it,” she said. “One, it’s salty and sweet at the same time. Two, the peanut butter part is really creamy. Three, there’s a little bit of crunch to the outside of the cookie. And four, it’s big enough that you need four bites to finish it.”
“Thank you for that wonderful list,” Joan said. “I’ll tell the rest of the ladies that these cookies have the Aly-and-Brooke Seal of Approval.”
“Hey, Aly?” someone said from the doorway.
Aly looked up. It was Jenica! And Bethany and Mia. There were three more girls from the soccer team behind them.
“Any chance you can polish some more toes when you’re done eating?” Jenica asked.
Aly stood up and swallowed her last bite of cookie. “We’re all booked today,” she said. She really wasn’t sure if they were totally booked, but she didn’t want to have to ask Mom to break her rules again . . . not yet, anyway.
Jenica put her hands on her hips. “You know, you and your mom always say that, but then you take people in here and give them pedicures. Can we just skip to that part?”
“Um . . .” Aly didn’t have a choice—she looked into the main salon for her mom.
“How about if I go see if Karen is back?” Joan said, squeezing Aly’s shoulder. “And if not, I’ll come back here and we’ll figure this out.” Aly nodded, grateful, as always, for Joan.
“Mia and Bethany and I played awesome yesterday after you gave us the sparkle pedicures,” Jenica said. “We have another game after school tomorrow. And we really need to win. So our starting forwards need pedicures too.”
Jenica introduced the girls who had followed her in: Giovanna, Maxie, and Joelle. They looked a little familiar to Aly from school, but she’d never spoken to any of them before.
Aly found it kind of amazing that the girls thought her sparkle pedicure made them play soccer better. She wondered if she’d be a soccer star if she painted her own toenails.
“Aly’s not allowed to,” Brooke said as she cleaned up the Pizza Picnic. “Really. Unless our mom says it’s okay, and she’s not here right now.”
“There she is!” Mia said from behind Jenica.
Mom came walking toward the back room, carrying a bag from the grocery store. “Can I help you girls?” she asked as she slid the bag into the mini-fridge.
“Our friends need three rainbow sp
arkle pedicures,” Jenica said. “Otherwise, we won’t win our soccer game. But Aly said you’re booked. Like she always does.”
Bethany leaned in and whispered to Mia, “Maybe we should just go to another salon today.” Even though she whispered, Aly could tell that Mom heard; her eyes darted toward the front window and the COMING SOON! PRINCESS POLISH! sign across the street.
“Aly,” Mom said, “can I talk to you, please?”
Aly followed her mother into the corner near the two spare manicure stations stored in the back room.
“I’m not agreeing to your salon,” Mom said. “But would you do three more pedicures? Or see if Brooke can do one? I want to make sure everyone is happy with our salon today.”
Aly grinned. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it seemed like the first step in making their own kid salon a reality. “Okay, Mom,” she said.
After leading Maxie and Joelle to the pedicure chairs and turning on the water, Aly pulled Brooke over near the mini-fridge for a chat.
“I’ve never done a real customer before,” Brooke said, tugging on her braid. “I don’t even do both of your hands! Just one! Are you sure I’m ready for this?”
Lisa, another manicurist, walked into the back room to grab a bottle of water and heard the girls’ conversation.
“You’re going to be great,” Lisa said. “Just take your time and go slow. Aly can do two of the girls. You only have to do one.”
Brooke nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced.
“Okay,” Aly said, walking back to the pedicure chairs, “so, um, after you’re done splashing, I’m going to do Maxie’s toes, and Brooke will do Joelle’s. Then I’ll do Giovanna’s. Sound good?”
Brooke smiled, but she wrapped her hand around the bottom of her braid so she could tug it if she had to.
“You’re sure your sister can do it?” Jenica asked, folding her arms across her chest. “She’s just a little kid.”
“We’re all kids,” Brooke told Jenica. “And I bet I can polish a million times better than you.”
Aly swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe Brooke. One of the main rules in a salon is never to be mean to the customers! Brooke was going to ruin this!
All That Glitters Page 3