by Daphne Maple
“Smart kid,” Taylor said, taking a cookie and giving me the tin. The cookies were golden with crisp tan edges and my mouth watered as I took one.
“Thanks,” I said. I set mine on a napkin to save it for dessert.
“Yeah, I’m thinking my next party will be a cookie party too,” Naomi said with a grin. “As long as Dana’s doing the baking.”
“Make sure you invite us,” Sasha said.
Naomi gave her a thumbs-up and they turned back to their table as we dug into our food. Kim had her usual turkey sandwich, Taylor had her yogurt and granola, and Sasha had a salad. I was the only one who switched things up. Sometimes I got the hot lunch, but other times I brought leftovers in a thermos. Today I had last night’s pork, eggplant, and rice, and the spicy scent greeted me as soon as I twisted off the top of the container.
“That smells good,” Taylor said.
“Have a bite,” I said, passing it to her. A lock of my hair slid out of the twist I’d created that morning. It was kind of falling apart, so while Taylor had my food I pulled it free and let my hair fall around my shoulders. Sometimes my styles were a little too ambitious.
Taylor scooped some out with her spoon. “Your mom is the best cook,” she said after swallowing.
“She makes authentic Chinese food even though she grew up in California,” I said proudly. My mom’s cooking really was awesome. “Her mom taught her and now she’s teaching me.” So far she’d only taught me how to cut up meat and vegetables, but in Chinese cooking that was very important and over half the work.
“We have to sleep over at your house one day so we can have a true feast,” Taylor said.
I nodded, but felt my body stiffen at the suggestion. The three of them had slumber parties most weekends, with awesome traditions like making milk shakes with mix-ins, talking club business, and the usual sleepover requirements like staying up late and sleeping in. So far I’d been to two and I knew at some point I’d have to host. I’d be happy to have Sasha, Taylor, and Kim see my home and eat the food my mom made, and meet my dad if he was around. But the problem was my mom: I knew she would insult the club and take it too far, like she always did. I could only imagine how much that would upset the other girls, and what if they decided I shouldn’t be in the club anymore because of the things my mom said? “Speaking of sleepovers, I won’t be around Saturday night,” Kim said. “We’re going to my cousin’s wedding in Dayton.”
“That sounds fun,” Sasha said, spearing a cherry tomato.
“Yeah, it’s twenties themed so at the reception they’re teaching everyone dances like the jitterbug,” Kim said.
“I’d love to see Matt doing the jitterbug,” Taylor said with a grin. Matt was Kim’s fifteen-year-old brother, who was definitely more comfortable on the athletic field than the dance floor.
Kim laughed. “Not likely,” she said. She took a bite of her sandwich.
“I can’t do a sleepover this weekend either,” Sasha said. “I’m having extra dance rehearsals to get ready for our recital.”
“I can’t wait to see that,” Kim said with a grin. One of the things I loved most about my new friends was the way they supported one another.
“Yeah, we’ll be in the front row,” Taylor said.
“Totally,” I agreed.
“Bri, wait ’til you see how skilled Sasha is,” Kim boasted. “She’s going to be famous one day for sure.”
It was another reminder that I was the outsider, the only one who hadn’t seen Sasha dance.
“Speaking of awesome skills, Bri, did you get a chance to work on the logo?” Taylor asked. And now I felt like part of things again.
“Yeah,” I said, my face warming a bit as I pulled a folder out of my backpack. “I played around a little last night. If you guys don’t like any of these I can keep working on more.” I hadn’t just played; I’d spent over two hours carefully creating and combining images that I felt represented the mood and tone of the club and the foster program. But I didn’t want to act like it was a big deal in case Sasha, Kim, and Taylor hated them.
I passed Taylor the five concepts I’d finally decided on, then twisted my pendant nervously. It was a jade stone on a red string, which in China meant good luck. And hopefully it would mean the same thing here because I really wanted them to like my work.
“Bri, these are so good,” Sasha said, looking up at me a minute later, impressed. She was holding my favorite design, the one that was a large tan paw print, inspired by Alice’s T-shirt yesterday, with a small pink heart that fit right inside on the top left.
Her words made me swell with pride.
“Yeah, they really are,” Kim agreed. She was looking at the one that had the cartoon figures of a dog and a human standing close together, the dog looking up at the person and the person looking down at the dog. “Bri, you’re going to be famous too.”
“I’m not sure there are famous graphic designers,” I said with a happy grin.
“Then you’ll be the first,” Taylor said. “But there is a problem with these.”
My spirits sank. “What?” I asked, feeling anxious.
Taylor grinned. “How are we ever going to choose just one?”
The Dog Club wasn’t meeting that afternoon. Sasha had dance class, Taylor was going to her photography class, and Kim was headed to meet Anna for tutoring. That meant I was on my own and I decided to go to the Pampered Puppy to see if my mom needed help with anything. I disliked how she always put down our Dog Club in favor of the Pampered Puppy, but I was still proud of her and the business she had built. I knew how much hard work that took, and I also knew that even if she could be snobby about it, my mom genuinely adored dogs and wanted them well cared for.
The Pampered Puppy was in a converted Victorian house just off Main Street. The big front yard had perfectly manicured grass, and a big white sign with pink letters spelling out the name of the spa. The porch, painted a matching white, had little pink dog prints going up the steps to the front door. There was a reception area in front where Jon, the administrative assistant, sat behind a wooden desk. He grinned when I came in.
“What’s up, Bri?” he asked.
“Not much,” I said, smiling. Jon, like all the staff at the Pampered Puppy, was really nice.
The reception area had puffy pink chairs and frames with famous dog paintings. My favorite was the series of blue dog prints. That was the kind of art I hoped to make one day, though I had a long way to go before I’d be that good.
“Your mom’s in with the big dogs,” Jon said.
“Thanks, I’ll go find her,” I said.
The Pampered Puppy had two main rooms, one for small dogs and the other for big. Both rooms had hardwood floors that gleamed due to a thick protective clear gloss layer that was impenetrable to dog nails. The walls were painted a soothing light blue, and the rooms had top-quality dog beds and organic, all-natural dog toys stored in color-coded bins. The high-powered ventilation system, which kept everything smelling fresh and the air clean, hummed softly in the background as I headed into the big dog room.
“Hey, Bri,” called Karen, one of the dog specialists who worked full time at the spa. She and all the other staff wore the same fitted lab coats as my mom, and for a moment I couldn’t help comparing their sleek look to Alice with her baggy dog T-shirts, Caley with her wild outfits, Tim with his crazy hair, and the four of us who looked like, well, kids. Everyone here was trained and no one was under the age of twenty-one.
“Hi, Bun,” my mom said from where she was squatting on the floor with a snowy white poodle.
I shot her a look. I didn’t mind if she called me Bun at home, but out in public was another story.
“I mean, hello, Brianna,” my mom said in an amused tone. “How nice to see you here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hi, Mom,” I said as a caramel-colored cocker spaniel came over to sniff my shoes. “And hi there, Barney.”
Barney nuzzled against my leg and I rubbed his butter-soft fur. He
’d definitely been groomed earlier.
“See, he knows his name,” my mom said proudly. “And watch this. Sit, Barney.”
Barney sat instantly.
“Roll over,” my mom said, coming over to us.
Barney immediately dropped to the floor and rolled over.
“Paw,” my mom commanded, and Barney sat back up and offered a paw.
My mom reached into her coat pocket for a dog treat, the kind made with organic ingredients that cleaned the dog’s teeth. She gave it to Barney, who gobbled it up, clearly happy with his reward.
“Very impressive,” I told Barney.
“He behaves beautifully,” my mom said. “Cocker spaniels are smart and his training started the minute we opened our doors. And you can see the results.”
I definitely didn’t want to go down this road again. “Is there anything I can do to help you out?” I asked.
“Let’s see,” my mom said, gazing around the room. “Sierra is out on her afternoon walk with Zia, Barney is going in for a training with Karen, and I’m working with Clarabelle. Scooter and Franz are having free play. Do you want to start a game of fetch with them?”
Scooter was a husky and one of my favorite dogs, while Franz was a spirited but well behaved golden retriever. “Yeah,” I said, heading over to the toy bin shelf. I reached into the green one and pulled out a clean blue ball. It was pretty much the opposite of Boxer’s chewed-up Frisbee.
“Franz and Scooter play with toys from the red container,” my mom corrected.
With a sigh I reached into the red bin and pulled out what seemed to be the exact same blue ball. Sometimes the rules at the Pampered Puppy seemed silly.
But once I started playing fetch with Scooter and Franz, everything felt good again. Yes, there were a lot more rules at the Pampered Puppy; yes, it was fancier with a focus on training. But underneath all that they were just fun, snuggly dogs who liked to play and cuddle. Which was exactly the same as the dogs at the shelter, well trained or not.
If that was so obvious to me, why was it impossible for my mom to see it too?
5
It was one of those late fall afternoons that felt summery and the four of us had our coats unzipped as we strolled through town on the way to Dog Club, dogs prancing happily alongside us. After splitting up for pickups, we’d met for a twenty-minute run at the dog park, since it was so nice out, and now we were headed to the shelter.
“I can’t believe it’s going to be winter soon,” Sasha said. She was walking Mr. S, Popsicle, and Humphrey.
“Does it get really cold here?” Taylor asked. She tugged gently on Coco’s leash so that she would keep up. Coco liked to sniff everything we passed, which was annoying Waffles, who seemed eager to get to the club.
“Yes, freezing,” the rest of us replied in unison, then laughed.
It was fun to be on the inside for once. Today I had Gus, Hattie, and Jinx, who already felt like she’d been part of the club forever. It was so much easier for dogs to fit in than people.
“Yikes, that sounds bad,” Taylor said. “I think I’ll miss the South when the first snowstorm hits.” Taylor and her family had moved from North Carolina this past summer and that was what gave her words their soft drawl when she spoke. It wasn’t a full-on Southern accent, more just a musical lilt.
“Yeah, but wait ’til you see how cute dogs are when they frolic in the snow,” Kim pointed out. We were walking past Bundt Cake Bakery, the smell of fresh baked bread rich in the air. Missy, who stayed close to Kim, lifted her nose for an extra-long sniff.
“Yeah, and it will be Popsicle’s first time seeing snow,” Sasha said, grinning at the thought.
“Hattie’s too,” Kim said.
Taylor smiled. “That will be worth it,” she said.
We passed Nimsey’s Crafts and then the Rox, where we waved at Kim’s mom who was at the hostess desk. Just then a colorful flyer stapled to a telephone booth caught my eye. I tugged gently on my dogs’ leashes and stopped to take a closer look.
“What is that, Bri?” Taylor asked.
“It’s for the town craft fair,” I said as I skimmed it. “Two weeks from Saturday.”
“Right, that happens every fall,” Kim said. “It’s a festival with booths where you can buy crafts and food, and a big art show in the town hall.”
“There’s also a stage for musical performances,” Sasha said.
“That sounds great,” Taylor said.
“Yeah, but the best part is that stores and businesses can rent booths to sell art and merchandise,” I said.
Sasha nodded, then suddenly her eyes got big. “Bri, you’re brilliant!”
Kim’s forehead crinkled. “I think you lost me.”
“We can rent a booth for the dog shelter,” I said excitedly. “To raise money and tell everyone who goes by about the fostering program.”
Now Kim was nodding enthusiastically. “People come from all over and we can pass out flyers. That will really get the word out about the dogs needing temporary homes.”
“And we can sell cute doggy things to raise money for the program and the shelter,” Taylor finished. “Bri, you are brilliant.”
Waffles barked as if in agreement. Or because he wanted us to get moving so he could play with his friends at the shelter. We started walking again and a few minutes later we’d arrived.
“Wait ’til you guys hear Bri’s great idea,” Taylor said as we trooped in.
“Lay it on us,” Tim said. He was tossing a ball with Tuesday, Boxer, and Gracie.
“Yeah, let’s hear it,” Caley said. She was on the floor playing a game of tug-of-war with Lily, but as soon as Lily saw me she ran over for a hug. Which made me feel just as good as Taylor’s announcement.
“We need Alice too,” Kim said. She’d already unleashed Missy, and while the rest of us were freeing our dogs she headed to Alice’s office.
A moment later they came out together, Alice wearing one of my favorite T-shirts with a dog in the sun that said “Hot Dog.”
“Hey, everybody,” she said with a smile. Oscar, the soft gray shelter cat who thought he was a dog, twined around her ankles as Coco and Waffles went to greet Alice, then headed to play. “What’s this fabulous idea?”
“Well, I saw a flyer for the town craft fair,” I said. “And I thought we could rent a booth for the shelter. We can pass out our flyers for the foster program.”
“And sell merchandise to raise money for the shelter and the foster program,” Taylor added. Boxer brought his Frisbee over to her and she sent it sailing across the room. A crowd of dogs raced after it.
“I love it,” Caley said approvingly. Humphrey and Missy were sniffing at a rubber bone and she went over to throw it for them.
“Yeah, it really is a great idea,” Tim said.
“I agree,” Alice said. “Smart thinking, Bri. It looks like you inherited your mother’s instincts for good business.”
That was a compliment for sure, though if Alice knew the things my mom said about Alice’s business, she might not smile at me so nicely. I shook the thought away.
“Now we just have to make those flyers,” Alice went on.
“Bri has some great designs for the logo,” Sasha said.
“Let’s see,” Caley said eagerly.
I pulled the folder out of my bag and passed around the pictures.
“These are wonderful,” Alice said after looking them over. She was holding the paw print one, and Boxer came over and tried to sniff it. Alice laughed and held it out of reach so he couldn’t drool on it, but gave his ears a hearty scratch.
“Which one do you guys like best?” Caley asked.
“They’re all great, but I think the paw print with the heart might be my favorite,” Sasha said.
Kim was nodding. “Yeah, it’s like when you see it you think dog and then love, which is exactly what we want people to think.”
“Good point,” Taylor agreed. “I vote for that one too.”
“Sa
me,” Tim said, going back to play with Coco and Waffles, who had discovered the rubber bone.
“I like it too,” Alice said, and Caley nodded. “But Bri, you’re the artist—what do you think?”
I liked being called an artist. “The paw print has always been my favorite,” I confessed.
“Then it’s decided,” Alice said. “I wrote up a description of the foster program so all that’s left is figuring out the layout with the logo. Bri, can you help me with that?”
“Definitely,” I said, happy to be asked.
Caley and Tim took a group of dogs out to play in the yard while Kim, Sasha, and Taylor played inside and I helped Alice finish the flyer. It looked slick and professional thanks to Alice’s new color printer, and a half hour later we had a stack of papers ready to go.
“Bri, how many do you want for the Pampered Puppy?” Alice asked, making my chest clench up.
“Um, maybe one to put up on the bulletin board?” I could just find another place to post it so it wouldn’t go to waste.
“Why don’t you take a stack to keep on the reception desk too?” Alice asked. “That way people who are interested can take one home.” She was handing me a pile of flyers so it wasn’t even like it was a question.
“Sure,” I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach. Where could I put all these flyers? Because I certainly couldn’t ask my mom to give them away at the Pampered Puppy. Lily had been playing with Tuesday, but as though she sensed my anxiety she came over to lean against me, looking up with concern.
“She’s really bonded to you,” Alice observed.
I gently stroked the soft fur on the top of Lily’s head. “It’s mutual,” I said.
“I’ll take some flyers for the Rox,” Kim said, coming over, Missy tagging along behind her.
“And give me a bunch for my mom’s law firm,” Sasha said. “My mom was excited when I told her about the foster program.”
“My dad too,” Taylor said. “He’ll want to help since I don’t think we can foster a dog. Jasmine is allergic.” Taylor had two other sisters besides Anna, twins Jasmine and Tasha, who were juniors in high school.
I hadn’t even thought about participating in the program until just now. And slowly an idea began to bloom in my mind. What if I was somehow able to get my mom to agree to take in Lily? I knew my mom felt as strongly as Alice did about dogs finding homes instead of being put down in shelters. Fostering was something my mom would believe in. Of course, taking in an older dog like Lily wouldn’t be her first choice. But if I got her to give it a try, my mom could see how wonderful all dogs were, not just dogs with tons of training. Lily was so special—my mom had to see that. If she loved Lily half as much as I did, maybe we’d even get to adopt her. And that would be bliss!