Best Friends

by Ann M. Martin

  “Olivia, that’s beautiful! It’s a great idea,” said Ruby.

  “But you’re not off the hook, Ruby Jane,” said Flora. “Come on. Let’s see your present. What have you got?”

  Ruby made a face at her sister. Then she left Flora’s room, crossed the hall to her own room, and returned a few moments later holding out an empty soup can.

  “What’s that?” asked Olivia.

  “It’s a can,” replied Ruby.

  “We can see that,” said Flora.

  Ruby sighed. “I figure it could be either a rattle or a piggy bank. I could fill it with pebbles or something and it could be a rattle —”

  “You mean a choking hazard!” shrieked Olivia. “That’s a terrible idea.”

  “All right then, a bank,” said Ruby. “I’ll wrap the sides with construction paper, make a top out of cardboard or something, and cut a hole in it for dropping the money through.”

  “Why,” said Flora, “am I reminded of the pencil cup you made Dr. Malone for Christmas? Oh, that’s right. Another decorated soup can.”

  “Look,” said Ruby, growing angrier, “I have play rehearsals and dance classes and chorus rehearsals —”

  “You guys, don’t fight,” interrupted Olivia. “The point is that Ruby needs to make a present. Fast. Flora, you and I have time to help her. Let’s all sit down and think.”

  “How about a stuffed animal?” said Ruby a few moments later.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” said Flora. “We still have a couple of teddy bear kits left at the store.”

  “Hmm,” said Olivia. “I wonder what Annika would make.”

  Flora frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  But Ruby said, “She’d make something wild, like a jungle quilt.”

  “Is Annika good at sewing?” asked Olivia.

  “Pretty good,” said Flora. She turned to her sister. “Why don’t we call Min and ask her to bring one of the kits home tonight? I can help you with a bear, okay?”

  “Okay,” replied Ruby.

  Olivia and Flora turned to their own gifts, but Olivia’s mind was on Annika and jungle quilts and all that Annika had in common with Flora.

  Four days later, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, Olivia’s house began to fill with neighbors, who arrived through the Walters’ back door, bearing packages hidden in grocery bags and old cardboard boxes.

  “Not that the Fongs will see us,” said Olivia to Flora and Ruby. “They should be in town now. Then at two o’clock Mr. Fong is supposed to say, ‘Come on, dear. Let’s go home. We’ll stop by the Walters’ on the way and pick up their old high chair.’”

  “What if Mrs. Fong doesn’t want to stop by?” asked Ruby.

  Olivia’s face fell. “I didn’t think of that,” she said.

  “Don’t worry,” said Flora. “Mr. Fong will get her here one way or another.”

  Olivia looked around her living room. It was filling up fast with both neighbors and presents. Her mother kept sending out plates of food, which Olivia, Ruby, and Flora were in charge of passing to the guests.

  Olivia loved company. There were Mr. Pennington and Min, sitting side by side on the couch. There was Aunt Allie, talking awkwardly to Robby, who was so excited about the surprise that he was bouncing up and down on his toes. “We bought the baby a car seat!” he exclaimed. “It’s in that box, that big one over there. It’s almost the biggest present of all!” There was Margaret Malone talking to Mr. Willet, and Lydia Malone sitting on a chair in a very bored fashion, sneaking a peek at the texts on her phone, which Dr. Malone had told her not to bring. And there were the Morris kids, chasing Jack and Henry up and down the stairs.

  In the midst of the confusion Olivia glanced first at her watch and then through the front window. Suddenly, she yelped, “I see the Fongs! Here they come! They’re almost here!”

  The room grew quiet.

  “Everyone stand back there,” said Mr. Walter, pointing. “And don’t say a word,” he added, looking deliberately at Jack, Henry, Alyssa, Travis, Lacey, and Mathias, who had screeched to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll answer the door. When I let them in, yell ‘Surprise!’ … but not too loudly.”

  The Row House neighbors huddled at one end of the Walters’ living room, while Mr. Walter waited in the hallway. Ruby suppressed a giggle, Mrs. Morris hushed Travis and Alyssa, and Flora reached for Olivia’s hand and gripped it.

  Olivia heard the door open.

  “Hi,” said her father.

  “Hi,” replied Mr. Fong. “We thought we’d pick up the high chair, if it’s convenient.”

  “Absolutely. Come on in.”

  The Fongs, Mr. Walter behind them, appeared in the entry to the living room, and Olivia and her family and friends cried, “Surprise!”

  Olivia watched Mrs. Fong’s face closely and decided she wouldn’t be able to look quite so startled unless she was either truly surprised or a very good actor. She actually thought her neighbor seemed just a teensy bit frightened.

  Mrs. Fong’s hands flew to her cheeks.

  “Did we surprise you? Did we surprise you?” asked Alyssa.

  “You certainly did,” said Mrs. Fong, and she began to smile. “Thank you!” she exclaimed. She turned to her husband. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  He was smiling, too. “Hardest secret I’ve ever had to keep.”

  Mrs. Fong, hands resting on her belly, was ushered to a chair, and the adults began to talk and laugh. Olivia and Flora and Ruby passed the plates of food again, but after just a few minutes, Lacey Morris cried, “Open the presents now! We can’t wait any longer.”

  And so the present opening began.

  “I’ve never seen so many gifts,” exclaimed Mrs. Fong.

  There were baby blankets and baby socks and baby hats. There was a red wagon from Dr. Malone and a stack of picture books from the Morrises and plenty of handmade gifts, including the album from Olivia (“Stunning,” said Mrs. Fong) and the dress from Flora (“You’re so talented,” said Mr. Fong) and the teddy from Ruby (“Our baby’s first stuffed animal,” said Mrs. Fong). Min, Mr. Pennington, and Mr. Willet had pooled their resources and bought a baby carriage. Even Lydia had bought and wrapped a crib mobile and seemed genuinely pleased when the Fongs proclaimed it to be exactly the kind their baby book recommended.

  When the last gift had been opened, Olivia surveyed the paper-strewn room with satisfaction. Then she glanced at Mrs. Fong and saw tears in her eyes.

  “She’s crying,” she whispered to Flora and Ruby.

  “Because she’s happy,” said Ruby.

  “Because she’s pregnant,” said Flora.

  Mrs. Fong kept saying “Thank you” and “We’re so lucky to have neighbors like you” and Olivia knew the party had been a success.

  Later, when the neighbors had left and the mess had been cleared up and the Walters had eaten a haphazard supper of hot dogs and party leftovers, Olivia lay on her bed and thought dreamily of the new baby and what would happen after she was born. With Mrs. Willet at Three Oaks, the Row House neighbors would once again number twenty-five (not counting Flora and Ruby’s aunt Allie, who still said she was house-hunting). Funny how things worked. One person left, a new one arrived. And Alyssa Morris would no longer be the youngest Row House kid. Furthermore, by the time the baby was a toddler, Olivia would be old enough to sit for her. In fact, in just over five years, the baby would be ready for kindergarten at Camden Falls Elementary.

  At this, Olivia’s thoughts ran off on their own and she couldn’t seem to reel them in. Thinking of kindergarten made her think of graduation and the fact that her own kindergarten days didn’t seem so very far in the past. Graduation reminded her of the things that would happen just before graduation — the town birthday celebration, for example, and Annika’s arrival. And the thought of Annika led Olivia down paths she’d rather not travel.

  Olivia sank onto her bed, and at last she admitted something to herself, something she had been thinking about ever s
ince the day Flora had announced that Annika was coming to visit: Olivia had the horrible feeling that Annika had been a better best friend than Olivia was.

  How, Olivia wondered, could she prove that she was a good best friend, too? A creative and talented best friend, as Annika apparently had been?

  Olivia’s eyes searched her room and they fell on the animal pictures she planned to enter in the photography exhibit.

  In the months since Ruby and Flora had arrived in Camden Falls, their life with Min had begun to fall into place, and a routine had developed. Part of this routine was doing chores, which (Ruby couldn’t help noticing) had not become an issue until Aunt Allie arrived. Ruby wasn’t certain who was responsible for the Chore Chart that had appeared on the refrigerator; nevertheless, chores were now a part of her daily routine. Mostly, she didn’t mind them, especially since the responsibility for the chores rotated, and there was one chore that she actually liked. Ruby was currently responsible for taking Daisy Dear on her first walk of the day.

  Ruby had originally protested, since walking Daisy meant getting up fifteen minutes earlier every morning. But now Ruby felt quite grown-up and responsible as she clipped Daisy’s leash to her collar, Min’s clock chiming seven in the background, then unlocked the front door of the Row House and headed down the path to the sidewalk. She was the only person on Aiken Avenue at that hour, and she liked the stillness of the street.

  Sometimes Ruby talked to Daisy, sometimes she simply paid attention to the gardens and the light and even the air. Once she had been startled to see a nearly full moon hanging over the horizon and had said, “Did you know the moon could shine in the morning, Daisy?”

  On a Saturday in mid-April, Ruby made another discovery. “It’s warm, Daisy,” she said, “really warm.” And it was. Not early spring, just-warm-for-a-day warm — but true spring-is-here warm.

  That reminded Ruby that her play was only a month away, and she felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach because today was the day of the first full dress rehearsal of The Witches of Camden Falls.

  “I hope I’m ready,” she said aloud, and Daisy turned around to cock her head at Ruby, ears springing to attention.

  The dress rehearsal was an important event, even if it was really just a rehearsal at which all the costumes were to be tried on so they could be adjusted before the true dress rehearsal in May. Min and Gigi were going to attend, since they were on the costume committee, so Liz Durbin and Rick O’Bannen would run Needle and Thread that day. Flora was helping with the costumes as well, and since Nikki had been chosen to draw the picture that would be on the cover of the play program, she also wanted to attend the rehearsal.

  When Min and Ruby and Flora arrived at Camden Falls Elementary that morning, Ruby drew in her breath. “Look at all the cars in the parking lot!” she exclaimed. “It looks like the whole world is here!”

  “It takes a lot of people to put on a production like this,” said Min. “There’s the refreshment stand and the program and the music, not to mention the costumes and scenery and, of course, the actors.”

  For just a moment, Ruby felt like a very small part of the play, and she was reminded of nights when she would lie in bed and think about how big the universe was and how small she was compared to infinity. But then she told herself that she was Ruby J. Northrop and she was the star of the production and undoubtedly the most important person at CFE that day.

  Ruby put a little skip in her step. “Come on!” she cried. “We have a lot to do.” She ran ahead of Min and Flora and flung open the front door of the school. Ruby had every intention of proving to the world that she was a professional actor and that the production of The Witches of Camden Falls was more than just a school play.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ruby was seated in the auditorium with Min, Flora, and Nikki, who had ridden her bicycle to school. The auditorium was crowded with people, and Mrs. Gillipetti was struggling to make herself heard above the din. After clapping her hands and calling “Attention!” to no avail, she whispered something to Harry Lang, who ran to the stage, put his pinky fingers in his mouth, and let out a piercing “Fweeeeee!”

  Everyone fell silent, and Mrs. Gillipetti said, “Thank you. This is going to be a busy day, so let’s get to work.”

  Ruby jumped to her feet, ready for Scene One, but the next words out of Mrs. Gillipetti’s mouth were, “I’d like to start with reports from the committee heads.”

  Reports from the committee heads? thought Ruby. What about getting the rehearsal under way? But she took her seat again and tried not to wiggle as first one person, then another stood and gave a brief report.

  Harry Lang’s mother said that volunteers were needed to bake cookies and snacks that could be sold at the refreshment stand, and that other volunteers were needed to provide food for the cast party.

  One of Stephanie Ford’s dads reported that the programs wouldn’t be going to the printer for two more weeks, so there was still time to buy ad space.

  Then Mrs. Gillipetti called on the head of the flower committee, and a parent Ruby didn’t recognize stood and said, “Jarita’s Flowers has agreed to be the florist for the play. Anyone who wishes to send flowers to a member of the cast or crew should call Jarita’s a day in advance. The bouquets, with cards attached, will be delivered here, to school, before each performance. The presentation of the bouquets will take place after the curtain call. We’ll announce this in the school paper as well as the town paper next month.”

  Ruby’s mind, which had wandered during the talk of snacks and ad space, snapped back to attention at the mention of flowers. Now, that sounded professional. She had seen beautiful leading ladies on television receive bouquets of flowers from fans or husbands or parents and thought this very glamorous. Ruby imagined herself onstage in a filmy red dress and red high-heeled shoes (which, she recognized, might be teetery when walking across the stage, but she skipped over that detail), leaning down to accept an armload of yellow roses handed to her by someone whose face could only be described as rapturous. “Thank you, thank you,” Ruby would say breathlessly, pretending, for the fan’s sake, that this almost never happened, when in fact it happened night after night. Then Ruby would glance into the first row and there she would see Aunt Allie, and only because Ruby was such a good actor would she be able to keep the smug expression from her face.

  Ruby felt a poke in her ribs then and realized that Flora was nudging her. “Hey, Rip Van Winkle,” Flora said, “wake up. We’re supposed to go backstage now so you guys can try on your costumes.”

  “Can I come with you?” asked Nikki.

  “Sure,” said Flora. “We need all the help we can get.”

  That didn’t inspire confidence, thought Ruby as she made her way down the aisle toward the stage. “Why do you need all the help you can get?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Oh, don’t worry. It’s just a figure of speech,” replied Flora in an annoyingly adult voice.

  But Ruby was dismayed when she went backstage and discovered first of all that by “backstage” Flora just meant the corridor and two fifth-grade classrooms, and second that this area was a madhouse.

  “Where’s my dressing room?” asked Ruby.

  “Your what?” exclaimed Nikki, and everyone in earshot began to laugh.

  Ruby was about to point out that she was the star but instead simply rephrased her question. “Okay, where are the dressing rooms?”

  “Right here,” said Min.

  Ruby looked at her grandmother. Min was standing midway between Mr. Levithan’s room and Ms. Holton’s room in front of a banner that read THE BOOKWORM BOOK CLUB. Ruby frowned.

  “There are no dressing rooms,” said Min, turning to send Flora a warning look when Flora threatened to laugh again. “This is just a school play, honey.”

  “But we have an auditorium and a stage. And there’s going to be a refreshment stand. And flowers —”

  “But it’s still a school,” said Min gently, “not a theatre. Now, co
me on. You need to try on your costume.”

  “Well, I’m not putting it on out here with all those boys around.”

  “Of course not. Makeup will go on in the corridor. Girls will change in Ms. Holton’s room, boys in Mr. Levithan’s room. Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Ruby glumly. This was not at all what she had had in mind. Maybe for the two actual performances she could find a spot — a utility closet or something — that she could turn into her dressing room. She could even make a gold star to hang on the door.

  For the time being she had to be content with standing by the globe in Ms. Holton’s room, an eye on the door at all times to make sure no boys peeked in, while Min and Flora fussed with her costume: a long, very plain brown dress; a white cloth cap; a white apron; and a pair of sturdy shoes borrowed from Flora, which were slightly too big, so the toes had been stuffed with tissue. Once the costume was on, and Min had stood back to scrutinize it, Ruby took it off again, except for her shoes and her cap, which Mrs. Gillipetti wanted her to rehearse in. Then Ruby, now wearing the shoes, the cap, her jeans, and a T-shirt, was told to go out into the hall to await her turn in the makeup chair.

  “It’s going to take hours to put on everyone’s makeup!” cried Ruby as she watched from the doorway. “Look. There’s just one person doing it.”

  Sure enough, a woman (Ruby couldn’t remember whose mother she was) was painstakingly trying rouge and mascara and powder (making notes as she did so) on every single performer, right down to the kindergartners, who, as far as Ruby could recall, didn’t even have any lines to say.

  “That’s why,” Min replied patiently, “you’ll have to arrive at school a couple of hours before each of the performances. It takes a long time to prepare everyone.”

  “But in a real theatre,” said Ruby, “there would be more than one makeup person. And the star would probably have her own private —”