by Coco Simon
“Oh yes, the Jumandra. So pretty. That might be in the shipment that came in this morning,” said Patricia. “Let me go look.”
My heart sank. Please let it be cheap. Please let it be cheap, I repeated like a mantra in my head as Patricia flipped through the rack of dresses.
“Here it is!” said Patricia. She plucked it from the rack and whipped the clear plastic cover off of it.
My heart fluttered again when I saw the dress. It was even prettier in real life! But I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And the decision wasn’t up to me anyway. But Katie, Mia, and Alexis all started yelling, “That’s it! That’s it!”
“You go try it on first since you found it!” said Mia generously.
“No, no,” I waved my hand. “You go first. Or maybe you don’t even want to try it . . . that’s fine!” I felt like a dork.
“Honey, Mia has tried on dozens of dresses already between her two visits here. You run and put it on. I know it will look lovely on you,” said Mia’s mom. “Go on . . . Patricia will help you.”
“Well . . .”
“Go!” commanded Alexis, and I was up off the couch like a shot, and into the changing room, practically ripping my skirt and sweater off in excitement. Patricia came in with me, which was a little embarrassing, but I just pretended that she was Mom.
As I was standing in my undies, Patricia carefully removed the delicate dress from its padded satin hanger, then cautiously she lowered it over my head. I poked my arms through, and Patricia buttoned me up. Then she gave me a pair of fancy satin shoes to slip on.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered as I saw myself in the mirror.
“Your hair might look pretty down,” said Patricia. I pulled out my ponytail and shook my head. She was right. I felt like a fairy. Or a princess. Or a ballerina. Or all of them. It was a dreamy dress. A dream dress.
“Come out!” called Mia.
“How does it look?” called Alexis.
I almost didn’t want to go out there. Maybe, I thought, just maybe it wasn’t too much. But it had to be expensive.
“It looks terrible!” I joked through the door.
“What?” cried Katie in alarm.
“Kidding!” I said. I spun around again.
“Ready?” Patricia grinned at me.
And then, oh, what the heck, I nodded yes, and Patricia flung open the door.
“Oh my God!” said the Cupcake Club in unison.
“Oh my God!” said Mia’s mom.
CHAPTER 6
The Dream Dress
I felt like everyone came at me at once. Mia’s mom came bounding down from her pedestal, Mona and pins in tow. Patricia and the other assistant clustered around me, and they were all chattering at once.
“Oh, Mommy, this is it! Isn’t it?” cried Mia ecstatically.
“It’s glorious, and it looks spectacular on you, darling,” said Ms. Vélaz.
“Divine, just divine,” uttered Mona. (Did she know any other adjectives? I wondered.) Alexis giggled again.
“Come here, sweetie,” said Mona. I climbed up on the box in front of the mirror, and Mona started pinning the dress on me. She fluffed my hair, fluffed the dress, and then stood back.
“Perfect,” said Ms. Vélaz.
I could not stop smiling. I was so happy. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen, and it was the most beautiful I had ever felt. “It’s pretty great,” I said quietly. Then I remembered it was really more Mia’s day than mine. After all, it was her mom who was getting married. “Mia, why don’t you try it on?”
“Okay, but take one more minute. It looks so incredible on you,” said Mia generously.
Ms. Vélaz had disappeared and returned with her phone. “Let me take a photo and send it to your mom,” she said happily. “You look so fabulous.”
I didn’t think fast enough and the picture was snapped. Mia’s mom’s fingers flew over her keyboard writing the message to Mom. “What’s her e-mail address again?” asked Ms. Vélaz. I panicked. Now Mom would see the dress and know we’d found something for sure. She would ask Ms. Vélaz how much it cost. I had to think.
“Umm . . . I don’t know what her new one is since she switched jobs,” I said in relief, realizing it was true. “Why don’t you just send it to me, and I’ll show it to her when I get home?”
Ms. Vélaz glanced at me, then took down my e-mail address and pushed send as Mona returned to the room. The two of them stepped off to chat quietly, and Patricia led me back to the dressing room.
As I passed Mona and Ms. Vélaz, I heard the words “two hundred and fifty dollars.” I felt sick.
Two hundred and fifty dollars!
This was way, way worse than I had imagined. Okay, I thought. If they pick this dress for sure, I’ll just excuse myself from being a junior bridesmaid. It was crazy beautiful, but whole families (mine!) could be fed for weeks for that kind of money. Dream dress indeed. I could dream about it, but I would never be able to afford it. “Good-bye, beautiful,” I whispered to the dress on its satin hanger.
I sat on the couch in a daze as one by one, all the girls tried it on and fell in love. It looked slightly different but equally amazing on all of us, just like the jeans in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, I thought distractedly. By the time everyone had it on, the decision had been made. This was the dress. Oh no, I thought. What have I done?
Ms. Vélaz whispered to Mona about the dresses a little more. She turned to us. “Girls, is this okay with all of you? Are you sure your parents will be okay with this dress?”
Katie and Alexis nodded. “My mom is just happy I’ll be in a dress,” said Alexis, who almost always wore pants. For a second I was jealous of my friends. None of them seemed worried about spending $250 on a dress. They were acting like it was no big deal. I noticed Mia’s mom looking at me with a worried look. I started to sweat a little. I smiled, as if I was agreeing.
“Well, that’s the dress then!” said Ms. Vélaz. Then it was decided that the four of us ought to go put the dresses on hold up at the front desk, and we’d each come back with our parents to buy it. “If there’s a problem, just let me know,” said Ms. Vélaz. Mona nodded. I sighed with relief. On hold was different than sold. I might be able to figure something out.
The Cupcake Club followed Patricia the assistant out of the room and cruised soundlessly across the plush carpet to the front counter to fill out the paperwork. The store had filled up quite a bit, and there were groups of women and girls arranged all around in little seating clusters. Suddenly I spied a familiar shock of long blond Barbie hair. Sydney Whitman!
“Guys,” I said quietly to warn them, but it was too late. Sydney had seen us.
“Oh my God! Mia!” she squealed, and she jumped up and pranced over to Mia, as if they were the best of friends. “What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly, completely ignoring the three of us.
Katie and Alexis stood frozen, like deer in headlights. Sydney ignored me so I tried to ignore her. Mia did the talking.
“My mom’s getting married and we’re all in the wedding, so we’re getting our dresses. What are you doing here?” Mia was pleasant but cool.
“My cousin Brandi is getting married, and I’m the maid of honor,” bragged Sydney.
“Wow,” said Mia nicely. She had a hard time being mean.
“So what are you wearing?” asked Sydney, looking Mia over from head to toe.
Mia fielded the question again. “Oh, we found a gorgeous dress. It looks great on everyone. Especially Emma. Actually, she was the one who found it.”
Sydney looked at me as if she had just realized I was there. Then she looked back at Mia. “Can I see it?”
“Oh, uh . . .” Mia hesitated.
Sydney looked at the counter, where Patricia was calmly laying out four sets of paperwork and four pens, for us to order three more dresses. The dress was on a hanger, hanging behind the counter.
“Is that it?” cried Sydney. “It is too cute!”
P
atricia looked up and smiled. “It looks wonderful on the girls,” she said kindly.
Sydney squinted sideways at it, then tilted her head.
“Brandi?” she called over her shoulder. “Brandi? Can you come here for a minute?”
Another very blond, older girl, with lots of makeup and a pink sweat suit, came over to stand by Sydney.
“Cu-uuu-uuute,” said Brandi, drawing the word out into three syllables. She snapped her gum. “Try it on, then come show me,” she instructed, and she went back to her group on the couch.
“I’ll try it too,” said Sydney to Patricia.
Patricia looked dubious. “I’ll check to see if there’s another one in the back,” she said diplomatically, then she disappeared.
Probably going to check with Mona on what to do, I thought. I knew it was bad luck for anyone out of the wedding party to know what the bride’s dress looked like, but how about the bridesmaids’ dresses? Was there a rule about that? Please let Mona say yes, please let Mona say yes, I thought fervently. I might not be able to afford it, but the idea of Sydney in my dress made me sick.
Patricia returned with a sympathetic look on her face. “I’m so sorry, miss, but we only have one of these in stock and we can only order a few in each size. We don’t like too many of our weddings to look the same. As soon as we finish the paperwork here, I’ll be happy to help your bridal consultant find something similar.” She smiled and turned away, letting Sydney know the matter was closed. Then she started wrapping up the remaining dress for Mia.
“Wait!” said Sydney, never one to give up. “Mia, do you mind if I try this one? Then, if it looks good, maybe I can order it online or something.”
I thought that was a pretty rude thing to say in front of Patricia and also pretty pushy. But Mia was so sweet.
“Uh, sure . . . I guess so.” Mia shrugged.
“Great,” said Sydney.
Patricia raised her eyebrows at Mia but passed the dress over the counter to Sydney. “Please be careful with it,” she said.
“Of course,” said Sydney. And she flew off, the dress flapping behind her from its hanger.
Seconds later Sydney returned, beaming, in the dress. Her whole group squealed and clapped as Sydney twirled, and the Cupcake Club looked on in dismay. It did look amazing on her. It was just that kind of dress, and Sydney was beautiful after all.
“I love it!” Sydney called to Mia. Mia nodded, unsmiling.
Patricia shook her head and went and whispered in Brandi’s bridal consultant’s ear. The consultant nodded, and then went and spoke to Sydney. It was time for the dress to come off. With some difficulty, she persuaded Sydney to return to the changing room and remove the dress. Moments later it was back on its hanger, safely behind the register.
“Did that really just happen, or was it a nightmare?” asked Katie.
I felt the same way. I looked at her.
“It happened.” Katie sighed.
“Sorry, guys,” whispered Mia. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You are way too nice,” said Alexis. “I would have charged her to try it on.”
The Cupcake Club all laughed. “We know you would have!” I said.
Katie, Alexis, and I finished the paperwork and slid it across the counter to Patricia. She looked it over.
“Emma?”
Uh-oh. What now? I bit my lip.
“Can I have a daytime phone number for one of your parents, please?” She smiled encouragingly at me.
“Oh, um. My mom’s just started a new job, and I don’t know her number, so . . .”
“How about your dad?” asked Patricia.
I felt panicky. “Ugh, I hate to bother him with stuff like this at work. Why don’t I . . . have my mom call you with her new number?”
Patricia nodded and handed me a business card. “That would be just fine. In the meantime we can order it for you so its here on time.”
It would be fine, I said to myself. I would find the money somehow. It was a dream dress. And I could dream big. I wouldn’t worry my parents. I would handle it.
CHAPTER 7
Between a Rock and a Dress
I spent the weekend counting money and adding numbers. I didn’t even want to ask my parents for half the money for the dress, let alone all of it. I needed a plan to get to $250. I’d have to really scrimp on after-school treats, like getting candy for Jake or going to the movies. Then I’d have to up the dog walking and the cupcake making. The only problem was they kind of used the same time slot and the dog walking paid better. I can do this, I thought. I can plan this out. But how?
I was still thinking about it when I left school on Monday and walked to the bike rack. I was nearly next to Matt before I saw him waiting for me by my bike.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi, yourself,” I said, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s up?”
“Well . . . I was wondering if we could trade days. If you could do today, I’ll do tomorrow, I swear.”
I sighed. I could barely figure out my plans, and they were already getting messed up. I was supposed to go to Katie’s today to make cupcakes for Henry Garner’s birthday party tomorrow. I could bring Jake, I thought. He couldn’t be that bad. Plus, tomorrow was a dog-walking day, so maybe it would be better if he were with Matt then.
“Fine,” I said.
The relief in Matt’s face was obvious. “Thank you so much,” he said, and he actually seemed to mean it.
“What do you have?” I asked. “Practice?”
“Uh . . .” Matt looked awkward for a second, and then looked a little embarrassed. “You know how I like to fool around on the computer?”
I nodded.
“Well, there’s a three-hour intensive workshop for graphic design down at the computer center at the library, and I didn’t realize it was today. Don’t tell Mom and Dad, though, okay? I’m paying for it with my birthday money from Grandma.”
“Cool,” I said. I was surprised, though. Not that I really cared what Matt did, but I thought it would be something dumb, like pizza with the guys. I guess he didn’t want to ask Mom and Dad for money either. We looked at each other for a second, understanding. “Well, good luck,” I said.
“Thanks,” said Matt, and he took off.
That was probably the most civilized conversation I’ve had with him in months, I thought as I pedaled home. I wasn’t due to be at Katie’s until four thirty so I’d go home, change, get Jake, and head over.
Poor Jake was not psyched about going to Katie’s until I reminded him that he could lick the bowl (and the beaters, he insisted), and he could watch Katie’s TV.
“What’s up, Cupcakers?” I asked, trying to smile brightly as we arrived. “I’ve brought my apprentice, Officer Jake Taylor, along with me today.” Then over his head I mouthed, Sorry.
Jake saluted the girls, and while Katie and Alexis giggled, Mia solemnly saluted him back. She was his favorite, and I could see why. Nobody seemed mad at me, so that was good.
Henry Garner was having a circus-themed birthday with a clown, so we’d decided to do clown cupcakes for the party. This meant yellow cake with red-and-white-striped cupcake papers, Froot Loops eyes, a licorice whip smile, red frosting hair, and frosted ice-cream cones as pointy clown hats. I put Jake in charge of sorting Froot Loops by color, and I said he could eat some but not all of them.
Alexis was also making some mini cupcakes that she was bringing over for Mona to sample that evening since we kind of burned the ones from the last Jake episode. Alexis thought Mona might buy them for the store, and I was really excited about that. Maybe it would mean I could go back there again. Plus, it meant more business, and that meant more money.
As usual, we paid for the cost of the supplies out of our treasury; all money received went into it too. It was tricky to price fancier cupcakes, like the clowns, because we had a hard time valuing our labor and time and, after all, we weren’t professionals with degrees from culinary schools. But if we co
vered our costs and made at least a 20 percent profit—what Alexis had determined—for each sale, we were pleased. Actually we were all pretty happy to come out even, but everyone was afraid to tell that to Alexis. Once a month Alexis divided the extra money we had, and we used it to go out for ice cream or pizza to celebrate. After that we each kept what little we had left. I hoped we’d have a little extra this month.
We got right to work measuring, pouring, mixing, and pouring again. The first four trays of cupcakes went into the ovens (Katie’s mom had two side by side), and while we waited, I began coloring some of the buttercream frosting a deep red for the Bozo hair.
We were quiet, which seemed a little weird. I looked over at Jake, who was also quiet, and realized why: He had cake batter dripping all down the front of him from licking the spoon and the bowl.
“Oh, Jakey, you need an apron!” I lunged across the kitchen for paper towels and an apron, but all I could find in the apron drawer were large, ruffled, flowery aprons.
“I’m not wearing that stinky girl apron!” Jake was immovable on the subject. “No, sir!” He also refused to take off his shirt.
“Jake, this is gross. And you can’t go sit on Katie’s mom’s couch like that to watch TV.”
Mia took over and, while pretending to arrest him and frisk him for weapons, she carefully wiped him clean. I watched in wonder and shook my head. He was like putty in her hands.
We started talking about the wedding. I thought Jake was watching TV but suddenly there was chaos. Jake had gone to remove the electric beaters that I had been using to make the red frosting so he could lick them, and had accidentally turned them on, sending red frosting spattering everywhere, including all over Mia and all over the kitchen.
At first I panicked that he lost a finger or something. When I realized it was all just frosting, I looked at the mess, and I just lost it. “I can’t take you anywhere!” I shouted at Jake. “And it’s not fair that I have to watch you all the time!” Everyone stopped working and stared at me.
“Shh, Emma, it’s okay. We can clean it up,” said Katie soothingly.
“I’ll take Jake,” said Mia, and she and Jake went off to borrow an old T-shirt of Katie’s.