“We’re going to…” Nora swallowed hard, and then the rest of the words came out in a rush. “We’re going to test different kinds of curling irons to see which one makes the best and tightest curl and why. We haven’t started doing the actual experiments yet, because Emma’s parents have to go buy the curling irons, but they’re going to get them this weekend, and then we can start curling Emma’s hair and discover…whatever we discover.”
She couldn’t bear to look at Amy’s face. But when she did, Amy was wreathed in smiles and tugged happily on the end of her braid, tied with pink ribbons today to match her new pink polkadot sweater.
“That’s super cool, Nora, it is! You can send the results to that magazine my dad gets that publishes articles on which is the best toaster, and which is the best computer tablet, and which is the best everything. Maybe they’d do a story about you and Emma, and you’ll be famous.”
“You really think it’s not dumb?” Nora asked.
“Definitely not!” Amy promised her. “Only…”
“Only what?”
“You’re not going to curl your hair, are you?”
Nora laughed. “Of course not! Emma will be the one with the curls, and I’ll be the one analyzing the results.”
Amy looked relieved. “I mean, you’d look good in curls, I’m sure you would. But you wouldn’t look like you. You wouldn’t look like Nora.”
Nora couldn’t disagree with that.
At the shelter, the man at the front desk, whose name tag read BRAD, welcomed them and explained a bunch of rules they had to follow. He pointed out the loop trail behind the building, where they would be taking pairs of dogs out on short exercise walks.
The girls waited, and then Brad returned with a Great Dane on one leash and a small corgi mix on the other.
“Here’s Duke for you.” He handed the Great Dane’s leash to Nora. “And Bubbles for you.” He handed the other leash to Amy. An adult was required to be present at all times with any volunteers under age fifteen, so Mrs. Talia walked behind the girls as they headed out to the trail. But she let them handle the dogs on their own.
Nora tried to give her full attention to Duke, but all she could think about was the baby-viewing party, which was now less than forty-eight hours away.
“Earth to Nora,” Amy said. “I told you three adorable things Bubbles did, and I don’t think you heard a single word I said.”
Nora couldn’t deny it. She could feel her face settling into a worried frown.
“What’s wrong?” Amy asked. “I mean, you have a huge, wonderful dog on a leash, and a way-cool science-fair idea, and you get to be an aunt, and we all get to meet Nellie on Saturday!”
Nora tried to smile. The dog walking was a good thing, and Amy had given the curling-iron project two thumbs up, but it wasn’t going to be even a tiny bit fun being an aunt when Sarah found out about the baby-viewing party.
Maybe Amy would find a way to be as positive about the baby-viewing party as she had been about the curling irons.
“I haven’t told Sarah about the Nellie party yet,” Nora confessed. “She seems so stressed about everything right now. I didn’t want to make her even more stressed. But if I don’t tell her, and Emma and everybody show up on Saturday, then she’s going to be super-duper-mega-crazy stressed, and it’ll be all my fault.”
“Oh,” Amy said.
Nora had hoped Amy would have something more helpful to offer than that.
“Okay,” Amy said, rising to the occasion. “As soon as we get home today, just tell her. Things like this are always better than you think they’re going to be. Like when I found Woofer? He was a stray, and I hid him in the backyard shed, and for three whole days I died inside every single minute, terrified to tell my parents about him for fear they’d say I couldn’t keep him and we’d have to take him right here, to the animal shelter. But then I finally did tell them, and they said no problem, it was fine to keep him, and I felt soooo much better.”
“But what if they hadn’t said that? What if they had said the thing you were afraid they’d say?”
“But they didn’t,” Amy pointed out.
“But Sarah might. She might tell me that I can’t have the party, and then I’d have to tell Emma, and, well, you know how Emma is.”
“Oh” was all that Amy could think of to say.
Neither Duke nor Bubbles had anything to offer, either. And after walking border collie Max and huge mutt Mister T., while Amy walked toy poodle Toby and terrier Susie Q., Nora was still as stuck as ever.
The first thing Nora noticed when she entered the living room was how completely different her house looked now from how it had looked one short week ago.
The smaller the human being, the greater the volume of stuff that went along with it.
A baby bouncer stood next to a baby car seat, which stood next to a baby stroller, which stood next to a baby windup swing.
To Nora’s great relief, no actual baby was in any of those baby containers right now. The actual baby was probably upstairs sleeping in her baby bassinet.
Piles of laundry covered the couch. Not baby laundry, just everybody’s laundry that nobody had gotten around to folding and putting away because everyone was so busy fussing over Nellie. When Nora headed into the kitchen, she saw dirty dishes covering every available surface for the same reason. Nora’s parents had someone come every other week to clean the house, but this wasn’t cleaning week. And Julie, the cleaner, would probably have taken one look at the Alperses’ house right now and quit on the spot.
Somebody had to do something. Nora knew she was that somebody.
She set to work folding laundry, rinsing dishes, and loading the dishwasher, as well as picking up stuffed animals—how many stuffed animals did a week-old baby really need?—and putting them in the baby toy basket that stood next to the bouncer, car seat, stroller, and swing.
Pleased with her progress, she was wiping down the sticky kitchen counters when Sarah appeared in the doorway, still in her bathrobe, her hair tangled and matted, clearly in need of washing.
“Wow,” Sarah said, staring at the transformed kitchen with bewilderment. “What got into you?”
Nora shrugged. “I figured I’d help clean up a bit.” Now might be a good time to mention the party. “You know, in case some people dropped by or something.”
Already pale, Sarah turned even paler.
“If any people even thought of dropping by, I’d…” The sentence was evidently too terrible for Sarah to finish. “I haven’t washed my hair in a week! I haven’t had a shower since…Monday? I’ve had maybe ten hours of sleep total since Nellie was born!”
So would it be okay if five of my friends came over for a little party the day after tomorrow?
No. She couldn’t follow Amy’s advice. She just couldn’t. Not now. Not yet. Not ever.
Nora finished wiping the counters and rinsed out the sponge. Maybe Sarah would feel better now that the kitchen was clean. Maybe between today and Saturday, she’d have a chance to wash her hair and get some sleep.
Or maybe not.
“Well, at least the kitchen looks better,” Nora said brightly. “That’s something, right?”
For an answer came Nellie’s wake-up wail and Sarah’s weary sigh.
During science time on Friday, Nora and Emma sat side by side at one of the classroom computers, trying to figure out which curling irons Emma’s parents should buy for her that weekend. There were so many different kinds! There was something called a curling iron and something else called a curling wand. They had different heat settings—as many as thirty for some of the higher-priced irons. There were different-sized “barrels” to wrap your hair around. Some were made of metal, some of ceramic. They had different voltages.
See? Nora wanted to say to Emma. They use volts!
“Oh, and there’s different stuff to use with them, too,” Emma added happily. “There’s thermal product, and styling spray, and volumizing mousse, and—”
“Are you sure your parents are going to want to spend all this money on these things?” she interrupted. “Some of these curling irons cost over a hundred dollars.”
“Nora,” Emma reminded her, “this is for science. It’s worth spending money for the sake of science, don’t you agree?”
As if Nora would disagree!
From across the room, Nora could hear Brody’s raised voice. “And our dog, Dog? It turns out he loves pieces of buttered toast lying on the ground, butter-side up or butter-side down! It’s his new favorite food!”
Nora could see Sheng busily working away on an experiment for converting potential energy to kinetic energy, while Dunk was busily working away on nothing. Sheng was doing everything, but Dunk would get the same grade and half the credit. It was so unfair. Nora wished Coach Joe would say something, but he was busy helping Amy and Anthony figure out how to graph their birdseed-color results.
“So…,” Emma said, once they had finally picked their four top-choice curling irons for her parents to buy. “About the party tomorrow?”
We can’t have it! Because we need to spend the whole weekend testing these curling irons for the science fair!
Emma went on. “I was thinking it might be too much for you and your sister right now.”
Well, that, too.
“You shouldn’t have to do all that party planning, with a new baby and all,” Emma went on.
Nora felt weak with relief. Lots of time to test out curling irons! No stress with Sarah! Yes, yes, yes!
“So,” Emma said, “I’m volunteering to help.”
“Help?” Nora asked in a strangled voice.
“Like, with the decorations. And the food.”
Nora opened her mouth. No sound came out. But she had to make herself say something!
She finally found her voice. “I think—given everything—that we should—”
“Keep it simple,” Emma finished her sentence. “Totally! Simple is great! So just some pink balloons, especially on the mailbox so that everyone can find your house. And a pink tablecloth for the table. I bet you don’t even have a pink tablecloth. Am I right?”
Emma took Nora’s stunned silence for an affirmative reply.
“I knew it!” Emma said. “Well, I have a pink tablecloth, so you don’t have to worry about that. And my mom said she’d take me shopping after school today to get some paper plates, cups, and napkins that say IT’S A GIRL! There’s nothing simpler than paper plates. I know what you’re going to say, that they’re not good for the environment, but this one time I think it’s okay.”
Nora watched as Emma produced a small flower-shaped notepad from her desk and started a shopping list: balloons, plates, cups, napkins.
“Now, food,” Emma said. “How are you set for party food? That can be simple, too. Punch with sherbet floating on top. I love sherbet punch! And cookies—pink-frosted. And some fruit to make it healthy. Wait—fruit skewers! I helped my mom make them for her bridge club. You get these little wooden sticks, and you put on one strawberry, one chunk of pineapple, one chunk of banana, and one big green grape. That’s all! Easy-peasy!”
“Emma—” Nora said, but it was impossible to interrupt Emma in full party-planning mode. “Emma—”
“Look, I’ll make the skewers. Don’t worry! You and your sister won’t have to do a thing for the skewers.”
To the list, Emma added strawberries, pineapple, bananas, grapes, skewers.
“So all you and Sarah have to take care of is the cookies and the punch. You do know how to make punch, don’t you? Just buy, say, four cans of frozen punch, and mix it with some club soda so it’s fizzy, and then dump some raspberry sherbet on top. Ta-da! I told you we could keep this simple and easy.”
“Emma.”
“And don’t feel you have to bake cookies,” Emma went on. “Everyone will understand if they’re store-bought. I could even get the cookies when I get the other stuff. You can pay me back for everything afterward. Really. It’s okay.”
To the list, Emma added: cookies.
“So the only thing left—”
Besides getting Sarah ever to speak to Nora again.
“—is…party favors!”
“I don’t think we need party favors,” Nora said faintly.
Now it was Emma’s turn to stare at Nora.
“Are you kidding? Party favors are the best part! Except for seeing Nellie, of course. That’s the best best part. I’m going to make the party favors, too. I already have the perfect idea. Wait till you see them, Nora. You’re going to think they’re the most adorable thing ever. I promise!”
“Huddle!” Coach Joe called to the class.
“With the party tomorrow, and playing with—I mean, experimenting with—the curling irons on Sunday, this is going to be a great weekend!” Emma said happily.
More likely, it would be the worst weekend of Nora’s life.
Nora sat in her bedroom that evening talking to her ants.
She wasn’t in the habit of talking to them. Her ants didn’t know or care that they belonged to a human girl named Nora Alpers who right now was in the worst trouble of her life. Nora had studied ants long enough to understand that they had problems of their own to worry about: collapsed tunnels, variable soil conditions. Not that ants worried about such things. Their brains were too small for worry. Worrying wasn’t what ants did.
Lucky ants!
“Here are my options,” Nora said aloud to her ants, even though she knew they weren’t listening. Ants communicated mostly through chemical secretions rather than through spoken speech.
“Option number one: I do what Amy said and tell Sarah tonight. And then she’ll freak out, and Mom and Dad will make me call Emma and cancel the party, and Emma’s already bought the balloons and the skewers and the fruit for the skewers and the pink-frosted cookies, and she’ll freak out and hate me forever, and Bethy, Tamara, and Elise will hate me forever, too, though probably not as much as Emma will hate me. And Emma will never speak to me again, and our curling-iron project will be the worst one in the history of the school.”
Nora paused. One of her ants was so motionless that it appeared to be listening through the glass wall of the ant farm.
But maybe it was asleep.
Or maybe it was dead.
Sometimes it was hard to tell with ants.
“Option number two: I don’t tell Sarah, and everybody will just show up at party time with the balloons and the food and all the other stuff, and Sarah will freak out in front of Emma, and they’ll both hate me forever.”
Nora reflected on that scenario.
“No, Sarah wouldn’t do that. She’d be polite to Emma, so Emma won’t hate me forever, but Sarah will. So I’ll keep my science-fair partner, but lose my only sister.”
Nora reached into her ant farm and poked the listening/sleeping/dead ant with a little stick. It scurried away.
“Option number three…,” Nora said.
Please let there be an option number three!
“Option number three…,” she repeated, thinking as hard as she could as the ant rejoined its fellow ants down the closest tunnel.
“Okay. Option number three is that I clean the house all morning so it basically looks okay. I tell Sarah an hour before the party so that she has time to take a shower while I take care of Nellie.”
Nora gulped at that part. She could vacuum a living room and tidy a kitchen. She didn’t think she could take care of a baby. She had passed up so many opportunities to hold Nellie that Sarah and her parents had stopped even asking.
Nora corrected the plan. “I’ll tell Sarah an hour before so she can have a shower and get changed while Mom and Dad take care of Nellie. And I’ll make sure she knows how hard I tried to make the party not happen.”
Well, she would have tried if she had even known how to try.
&n
bsp; “What do you think?” Nora asked her ants.
The ants made no reply. Nora hadn’t expected any. And she didn’t need their response.
Option number three wasn’t a terrific option, by any means, but at this point, it was all she had.
“No. No. NO.”
With each no, Sarah’s voice rose higher.
“They won’t stay very long. I promise.” Nora cast a nervous eye on the kitchen clock. It was an hour till party time, but Emma had said she’d come early to help. Nora wasn’t sure how early Emma’s “early” was going to be.
“Who isn’t going to stay very long?” her mother asked, coming into the kitchen, still in her pajamas like her older daughter.
“Emma,” Nora said. “Well, Emma and Bethy. Well, Tamara, too. And Elise and Amy.”
“They’re all coming here?” Her mother sounded as panicked as Sarah looked. “Is this for a group project at school? Surely there has to be someone else’s house you can meet at, a house that doesn’t have a baby who’s barely a week old in it!”
“No,” Nora said. “It’s not a school thing. Nellie is the reason they’re coming. She’s the whole point of the party.”
“Of the party?” Nora’s sister and mother shrieked at the same time.
“It’s a party to see Nellie,” Nora tried to explain.
If only they wouldn’t both stare at her that way!
She tried again. “It wasn’t my idea. The idea all came from Emma.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“The house looks okay,” Nora pointed out. “I cleaned all morning.” She gestured toward the swept floor, the gleaming counters. “And Emma’s doing most of the work. She’s the one bringing the cookies, and the fruit skewers, and the balloons, and the pink tablecloth. All we have to do is make the sherbet punch.”
At the words sherbet punch, Sarah’s face crumpled and she buried her head in her hands.
“Nora, what were you thinking?” her mother demanded. “This isn’t like you!”
It was terrible to hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice. Her mother was right. This wasn’t like her. It also wasn’t like her to be curling Emma’s hair for the science fair. Or to be on the Oregon Trail married to Dunk! Lately nothing in Nora’s life was the way it was supposed to be, except for her ants.
The Nora Notebooks, Book 2 Page 5