The Fix-It Friends--Three's a Crowd

by Nicole C. Kear

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  For Nonny,

  Con tutto il cuore

  With special thanks to expert consultant Randi Pochtar, PhD, of the NYU Child Study Center

  Chapter 1

  I’m Veronica Conti, and I’m a happy-endings kind of person.

  If I see a cloud, I look for the silver lining.

  If life gives me lemons, I make delicious lemonade, sell it in front of my house, and make a bunch of money.

  And if I ask my mom if we can go to the trampoline gym for my eighth birthday and she says “We’ll see,” I know that what she really means is “You betcha!”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” I exclaimed when my mom said “We’ll see.”

  “You really are an optimist,” said my mom, smiling.

  “Mom, I’m not even eight yet!” I said. “I’m too young to be a doctor!”

  “That’s an optometrist,” said my big brother, Jude. He is in fourth grade, so he thinks he knows everything. “An optimist is just a positive person. You know—someone who thinks most endings will be happy ones.”

  “That’s me for sure!” I chirped.

  It was true. I did think all endings would be happy. And when it looked like a story wouldn’t have a happy ending because there was a problem, then I’d just fix the problem! And if I didn’t know how to fix it, then I’d ask Jude or his best friend, Ezra, or my best friend, Cora. We were the Fix-It Friends!

  Until something broke that seemed too hard to fix.

  It all started in the beginning of March. With Margot.

  Chapter 2

  March has always been my favorite month.

  I know March is not as popular as the “-ember” months with all their great holidays, but don’t be duped! March is the super supreme best! Here’s why:

  1. It’s the start of spring! Which means it gets sunny, and you don’t need to wear heavy, itchy jackets anymore, and the flowers start to bloom, and the baby birds hatch.

  2. When you get to March, you know that the school year is more than half over, which is another way of saying, “Summer vacation, here we come!”

  3. Last but not least … my birthday is in March!

  I wanted my eighth birthday party to be the best ever. Cora and I brainstormed a ton of ideas. She has been helping me plan my parties since we became best friends in kindergarten. Cora is a big help because she is organized and responsible and loves holding a clipboard.

  Our first idea was to rent a horse to give rides to all our friends. I wanted a black stallion or a white stallion, but really I’d have settled for a donkey or even a Great Dane. But Dad said we couldn’t ride a stallion down city streets. Also, it costs too much.

  Cora had the great idea to do a pet spa in the living room. But the only pet I have is a goldfish, and Mom said we could not dye Fred’s scales or put bubble bath in his tank. So that idea was out.

  Then, in the beginning of March, when I was eating breakfast before school, I saw an ad in the newspaper:

  “Eureka!” I shouted.

  I showed Mom the ad. She had not had her coffee yet and I was sure she was going to say “Forget it,” but instead she said “We’ll see.” And, as all optimists know, that just means “Sure thing, sweet pea!”

  That’s when my little sister, Pearl, ran into the kitchen. She was sucking on her paci and holding the waist of her pajama pants so they wouldn’t fall down. Pearl’s big diaper used to hold up her pants, but since she got potty trained and stopped wearing diapers, her pants are always falling down to her ankles.

  Pearl must have heard us talking about birthdays because she popped her pacifier out of her mouth and yelled, “Bifday? Yay! Is my BIFDAY!”

  She jumped up and her pants dropped down.

  “No, honey, not yet. We’re talking about Veronica’s birthday, which is at the end of this month,” said Mom, pulling Pearl’s pants up.

  “I wanna bifday!” Pearl whined. Then she pouted.

  My dad calls this Pearl’s Power Pout because it packs a punch. Her bottom lip sticks out so far that it looks like a window ledge. Her big blue eyes get enormous and all wet and shiny. She looks sadder than a really hungry golden retriever waiting for you to throw her a scrap of food from your dinner.

  No one can refuse Pearl when she does her Power Pout. But I couldn’t change her birthday even if I wanted to.

  “You’ll be turning three next month, in April,” I told her. “Your birthday is practically here.”

  “Yay! My bifday!!” She clapped with glee and then told Mom very seriously, “I wanna wat!”

  That’s how Pearl says “rat.” She talks about rats all the time because they are her all-time favorite animal. Both my grandma who lives in Texas and my grandma who lives upstairs think it’s the creepiest thing ever. They both have tried to get her to like something more cute and cuddly, like kittens or ponies or butterflies. But it never works.

  Pearl’s best friend is a stuffed-animal rat named Ricardo. She got him for her second birthday and has dragged him around everywhere since then. At first, she dragged him by his tail. Then his tail fell off, and Dad had to duct-tape it back on. So she dragged him by his ear, and his ear fell off, so Dad duct-taped that on, too. Jude calls him “Franken-rat.”

  “Pearl, my girl, I know you and your sister want a furry pet,” said Dad, lifting her into his arms, “but you know I’m allergic.”

  Pearl did not seem to hear him. She hugged Ricardo tight and said, “I wanna wat and cake! Wif butterfwy-miwk icing! And faiwy-dust spwinkles!”

  Jude put down the book he was reading, Revenge of the Swamp Zombies. “Cake with butterfly-milk icing and fairy-dust sprinkles? That sounds really tasty. Can I come to your party?”

  “Jude!” I protested. “Stop encouraging her.”

  But it was too late. Pearl was stomping around and singing, “My bifday! My bifday! Mineminemineminemine!”

  Chapter 3

  I was so happy about having my party at the House of Bounce that I skipped into school that morning. I couldn’t wait to tell Cora the good news.

  “I found the perfect thing to do for my birthday party!” I told Cora as we hung our jackets on their hooks. “I’ll give you a hint: It rhymes with drama queen.”

  “A movie screen?” asked Cora in her high-pitched chipmunk voice.

  “Nope!”

  “Magical Mystery Mini-Golf?”

  “No, silly! That doesn’t rhyme with drama queen.”

  “Hmmm … smarma-zine?”

  “What? No! That’s not even a word!” I giggled. “It’s going to be on a trampoline!” I exclaimed. “At the House of Bounce!”

  Cora jumped up and down in excitement, which made all her red curls bounce like crazy. Her flouncy blue dress ballooned out like a parachute.

  When she was done jumping, we did our secret handshake. It’s what we do when we are:

  1. Exci
ted.

  2. Nervous.

  3. Bored.

  So, basically, anytime! We created it in kindergarten and just keep adding to it, so it has become a real masterpiece.

  Here’s how we do it:

  We , then we , and after that we , but don’t forget about the ing, and finally, the best part of all, we .

  Ha! You didn’t think I’d actually tell you! It’s a secret!

  “I can’t wait for the party!” Cora said when we were done. Then she frowned. “Will Minnie be back in time?”

  Minnie had just left for Puerto Rico with her moms to visit her grandma, who was sick. She didn’t know when she’d be back.

  “I hope so,” I said, sliding into my seat across from Cora. “I miss her.”

  “Me too,” said Cora. “Antarctica isn’t the same without her.”

  No, Antarctica was not the land where we lived. It was just the name of our table at school. Miss Mabel named each of the tables after the seven continents. I loved being at Antarctica because it’s the coolest continent. Ha!

  Antarctica was already a small table to begin with, but with Minnie gone, it was just Cora and Wren and me. Wren is a very serious boy. He has black hair that reaches his shoulders and hangs down in front of his face. Wren has never said one mean word to me. He hasn’t really said one nice word to me, either. Pretty much all he says is “yes” and “no” and “I don’t know.” Sometimes he says “no comment,” which I always think is funny because it’s exactly the same as not saying anything at all! It is impossible to tell how he’s feeling and whether he likes something or hates it. He’s basically the opposite of me.

  I heard the pretty, chime-y sounds of a xylophone, which is what Miss Mabel plays to tell us it’s time to settle down and listen up. It is such a relaxing way to start the day and just one of the reasons why she is my favorite teacher of all time.

  “Good morning,” said Miss Mabel. She looked marvelous in black pants with little white stripes and a black sweater that had a big zebra face on it.

  “This morning, I have some really exciting news—”

  Right away, everyone started guessing what it could be.

  “You won the lottery!”

  “No more homework?”

  “You’re taking us to Disneyland?”

  That was my guess. It’s always my guess, and it is always wrong.

  Miss Mabel chimed the xylophone again to get everyone’s attention. “The exciting news is that we’ll be welcoming a new student tomorrow!”

  I was so excited that I felt like a popcorn popper! Cora squealed with excitement, too. Wren didn’t make a sound.

  Miss Mabel wrote on the whiteboard:

  MARGOT DUBOIS

  “This is how you spell her name,” Miss Mabel said. “If you’d like to write her a welcome card, I’ll give you a few minutes to do that now. She’s just moved here from California with her mom, and she likes…” Miss Mabel looked down at her notepad. “She likes designing clothes, swimming, and playing with her bulldog, Bernie.”

  “She loves fashion design!” Cora said to me. Cora absolutely loves clothes. Especially dresses. Especially dresses loaded down with a zillion sequins.

  “She has a bulldog!” I exclaimed.

  “Your favorite breed!” said Cora.

  A big, annoyed groan came from behind me, from the Asia table. I turned around and saw Matthew Sawyer sitting there, wiggling one of his top teeth that was really, really, really loose. He tried to tug the tooth out, but even though it was only hanging on by a thread, it wouldn’t come loose, so he let go and wiped his gross, slobbery fingers on his striped shirt.

  “Another dog lover,” he complained. “How unoriginal. Everyone always has dogs! Like that’s the only kind of pet a person can have! What about tarantulas? Or hissing cockroaches? What about fleas? With fleas, you can make a circus. I’d like to see a dog be in a circus! Am I right, Wren?”

  Wren blinked and then said, “I don’t know.”

  I was about to tell Matt “Of course dogs can be in the circus!” but then I thought he was probably kidding.

  The thing about Matthew Sawyer is that when you think he’s kidding, he’s serious. And when you think he’s serious, he’s kidding. You can never tell with him!

  So I just said, “I don’t have time for Matthew Sawyer business right now. I have to make a card that will wow the new girl.”

  “Why?” He scowled. “You already have a best friend.”

  “I’m not looking for a new best friend! I could never replace Cora!” I exclaimed very impatiently. “But a person can never have too many friends. Don’t you think so, Wren?”

  “Yes,” Wren said.

  “Absolutely!” chirped Cora.

  Then Miss Mabel called Cora to her desk, and I got started on my welcome card. I wrote Margot’s name on the front with my shimmery turquoise marker. Inside, I wrote a poem.

  Hello and welcome, dear Margot!

  What’s your last name? I forgot.

  Here’s a bit about me (okay, a lot!):

  I love chocolate that’s steaming hot

  and peppermint tea from a pot.

  I use tissues when I’ve got snot,

  I don’t eat apples with any rot,

  and I love to ride horses, trot trot trot.

  Is this poem crazy? I hope not!

  Well, good-bye for now, dear Margot!

  I showed it to Cora, who said, “She’s going to love it. I’ll put it on the top of the pile when I give her the cards after school.”

  “You’re meeting her after school?” I asked.

  “Miss Mabel asked me if I could show her around the school this afternoon,” said Cora.

  I felt really disappointed that Miss Mabel didn’t pick me to be Margot’s tour guide. Everyone knows I’m super friendly. I’m the president of the Fix-It Friends, for crying out loud. I’m a professional helper!

  I was about to beg Cora to beg Miss Mabel to let me help, but then I remembered I had to go to gymnastics class anyway.

  So I just sighed.

  “Don’t forget to tell her all about me!” I said.

  Cora smiled. “How could I forget to tell her about my best friend in the whole world?”

  Chapter 4

  That night as soon as I got home from gymnastics, I called Cora. I tried her mom’s phone four times, but it kept going right to voice mail. I knew it had run out of battery. This happens a lot. It’s because Mrs. Klein gets really busy chasing after all her children and forgets to charge her phone.

  Cora and her identical twin sister, Camille, don’t really get into trouble, but they have little brothers who are wild and mischievous. Bo and Lou are also identical twins, and they are five years old. They are always climbing too high or trying to karate chop things that you shouldn’t karate chop.

  So Cora’s mom is always busy with those boys, and her phone is usually out of battery. That’s why I didn’t get to talk to Cora that night after gymnastics class. I had to wait until the next morning.

  I was so excited to hear about the new girl that I dragged Mom and Jude to school super early. The door of the school wasn’t even unlocked yet, so Jude and I sat down to wait. I practiced my handstands while Jude read his book.

  After a few minutes, I spotted Cora’s family. Well, I didn’t spot them so much as hear them.

  “NINJA SPEED!” bellowed Bo … or was it Lou? Most days, I can’t tell them apart because they have the same short, curly hairstyle and share all the same clothes.

  They both ran as fast as they could through the gate and into the yard that leads to the doors of our school.

  “NINJA POWER!” bellowed the other one, who could have been Lou or Bo. They did a whole bunch of roundhouse kicks.

  “NINJA KNOCKOUT!” they screamed at the same time, punching the air and yelling “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

  Far behind Bo and Lou came Cora and Camille.

  Cora and Camille are also identical, but it’s easy to tell them apart.
Sure, they have the same super-curly red hair, but Cora’s is long—almost to her shoulders—and Camille’s is cut short and always really messy. Cora is neat and tidy, and she almost always wears dresses or skirts. Usually her dresses have pleats or polka dots or poofy stuff underneath them.

  Camille only ever wears sweatpants or shorts and T-shirts. She absolutely loves playing basketball and has become really good at it. It seems like there is a magnet in her fingers and another magnet in the ball so that the ball always leaps right into her hands.

  Behind all of them came Mrs. Klein, who was holding an enormous cup of coffee. She was wearing purple plaid pajama pants and her jacket was buttoned up crooked.

  “Hey, it’s the Conti kids!” exclaimed Mrs. Klein. “How’s tricks?”

  One reason I love Mrs. Klein is because she doesn’t talk in the same, boring way that most grown-ups talk. The other reason I love her is because she lets us watch TV and eat candy at her house.

  “I’m good,” said Jude. He looked up from his book but only for a second. Once he starts reading, he gets totally sucked in and it’s like he’s not even in the same room as you anymore.

  “Never been better!” I told Mrs. Klein. “How are you?”

  “Well, I’m in my jammies, I need about five more cups of joe before I’m really awake, and my house looks like a natural disaster hit it.” She laughed loudly. “In other words: same old, same old.”

  Then Bo—or it could have been Lou—shrieked, and Mrs. Klein chased after the boys, yelling, “No, no, no! Bo, put that stick down this minute! Lou! What’s that you got? Is that BROKEN GLASS?”

  I turned to Cora and said, “So? What’s the new girl like? Tall or short? Shy or friendly? What’s her favorite color? What’s her favorite ice-cream flavor? Does she have any allergies?”

  Cora giggled. “Oh, I don’t know any of that! I only talked to her for a little while. But guess what? Her mom’s a fashion designer! So she has really cool outfits. And she said she could teach me how to sew!”