by Coco Simon
Nans jingled her keys, and Skylar sighed loudly and pushed back his chair. I took one last look in the mirror before we left, and then Nans drove down the curvy road toward the restaurant.
I could ride my bike to work, especially in nice weather, but Mom would never, ever let us ride on Park Street. She said people went too fast around the curves.
It’s kind of weird that even though Mom died, some of her rules are still here, and nobody has tried to get rid of them. At first we did things like staying up really late because everyone was so distracted, and nobody seemed to notice. Plus, there were, like, hundreds of people at the house and stopping in at all hours.
But one night at dinner, Dad said, “Okay, life as we know it is going to be very different, but there are ground rules that stay the same.”
After that we had bedtimes and regular meals and all the old rules seemed to kick back in.
When we pulled up to the restaurant, it was six fifteen. You could tell Nans was torn, because she wanted to go in and check things out and get a few things done in the office, but Sky was scowling.
Nans glanced in the back seat. “Sky, do you want to go say hi to your dad?”
But before he could answer, Dad came bounding out of the restaurant. “A fine family morning!” he bellowed, smiling at me. “Look at this wonderful employee on her first day at Donut Dreams!”
He actually looked really proud, and I kind of blushed a little.
“She’s going to be spectacular, as always!” said Nans, smiling.
“And I get to see my boy!” said Dad, reaching in to give Sky a squeeze.
“I had to get up early,” Skylar whined.
“Good practice for when school starts!” said Dad. “And since you made the very big effort of getting into the car, I have a little treat for you.” He handed Skylar a bag.
“Donuts!” screamed Skylar, and Dad laughed.
“First-day-of-work exception,” Dad said. “Don’t get too used to it!” He gave Skylar a kiss on the head and added, “Have fun at camp!”
Then he turned to me and opened the car door. “And you, my dear, are mine for the day. Let’s get to work!”
My cousin Kelsey was also working behind the counter at Dreams, and she gave me a quick wave when I came in.
Kelsey and my other four cousins all work at the Park and Dreams. Kelsey is only older than me by a month and a half, but she always tells people I’m her younger cousin.
“You know what to do?” asked Kelsey.
I nodded and slipped behind the counter with her and put on an apron. Dad was talking to the manager of the restaurant about something, so I turned around and stared at the rows of donuts, making sure they were all lined up and that the shelves were clean.
When Mom was alive I went home right after school, but after she died, Dad would pick Skylar and me up and bring us to the restaurant so we could be near him. We’d hang out at a table and do our homework or color for a few hours before Nans would take us home for dinner. I had watched the counter at Dreams for a few years, so now I knew exactly what had to be done.
If you look around, a restaurant is kind of a fascinating place. It’s usually busy—if it’s a good restaurant, that is—and there are people sitting and talking about stuff, and if you pay attention, you can learn a lot. And most people don’t stop talking when someone comes over to the table. So even if I helped clear a table or dropped off a glass of water, I could really get an earful. That’s what I loved most, picking up little pieces about people that you wouldn’t normally know.
Grandpa loves to go around and talk to everyone, and he stops and chats with the regulars, especially the ones at the counter in the morning. He knows everything that was going on in town, but he never spilles it to any of us, which drove Mom crazy.
“Oh, come on,” she’d say. “I know they were probably talking about it at the Park. What’s the dirt?”
And he would just smile and shake his head and say, “I just pour the coffee. What do I know?”
But Grandpa never misses a beat, so you have to be on your toes. I once saw him correct people for not properly wiping down a table, or not setting it right, or sloshing a glass of water when they put it down.
I know that he likes things tidy, which is hard when you sell donuts, because some of them have sprinkles or are crumbly. So when you lift them off the tray, you get crumbs everywhere—on the shelf, on the floor, and sometimes on the counter.
At Dreams there’s a lot of wiping and sweeping, because if Grandpa sees sprinkles all over the glass counter, he won’t be pleased. He’ll say, “Is that counter eating those sprinkles?” So the first thing I did was wipe down the counter, which was already clean.
“Ugh,” whispered Kelsey, “it’s the East twins.”
The East twins were running up to the case and putting their fingers all over the glass front. The two boys were adorable, but every time they came in, they made a huge mess.
“Hi, Mrs. East,” said Kelsey. “What can we get you today?”
Mrs. East always looked like she’d just run through a windstorm. There were always papers coming out of her bag, and her clothes were usually wrinkled or stained.
But she was really nice, and after Mom died she made us a lot of dinners and brought them over. She even came over with a picnic lunch one day for me and Sky and took us to the park.
“Oh, let me get the boys settled here,” she said, lifting them into chairs. “Jason, please stop hitting your brother!”
“That one, that one!” the boys started yelling, waving their little hands at the donuts.
“Boys!” said Mrs. East. “Use your manners! And Christopher, stop screaming!”
The boys scrambled off their chairs and ran back to the counter. Luckily, there was no one else waiting, because it took them a full ten minutes to choose their donuts.
I had one hand over the chocolate iced one when Christopher yelled, “No, no, no, not that one!” and I had to move my hand around the shelf until it was hovering over the “right” one.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. East. “You girls are amazingly patient! And I’m more frazzled today than usual. We just got back from vacation with my mom, and even though we love them, moms can be such a pain sometimes. Right, girls?”
She looked up as she was handing us the money for the donuts and froze. Her eyes went wide as she looked at me, remembering, and then her hand flew over her mouth.
Kelsey shifted from foot to foot nervously.
This happens a lot. People will say things and then be really scared that they said the wrong thing in front of you. Before Mom died, even when she was sick, all of a sudden everyone was really careful about what they said around me. For a month after Mom died, my friends wouldn’t even talk about their moms in front of me.
I talked to Aunt Melissa about it, because she was who I went to for a lot of stuff these days.
“Honey, people are trying to be considerate. But sometimes you have to help them, too,” Aunt Melissa told me.
Poor Mrs. East looked a little like she might cry. Kelsey looked at me expectantly.
“Yeah, you should hear Kelsey complain about Aunt Melissa,” I joked.
Kelsey opened the cash drawer and smiled. “Yeah, but she’s got nothing on Nans, and you basically live with Nans.”
We laughed, but Mrs. East still stood there, silent. I could tell she still felt awful.
“That’ll be five fifty, please,” said Kelsey, and Mrs. East suddenly looked down and realized she still had the donut money in her hand.
“Oh thank you, honey,” she said.
She took the donuts to the boys, who shoved them into their mouths in five seconds flat. Then she walked back over and grabbed some extra napkins.
“Sometimes you take things for granted,” she said to me, I guess as an apology. “How was your summer, Lindsay? You excited for your first day at Bellgrove Middle School? Oh and the big Fall Fling is soon, right? Did you do any dress shopping this summe
r?”
Fall Fling is, I guess, a big deal. It’s the fall dance at the middle school, and everybody goes. I think they go because there’s not much else to do, but kids start talking about it around the Fourth of July.
My BFF, Casey, had already started looking online for a dress, and she’s been poking me to go shopping. The thing is that shopping for school is a little weird these days. Usually Aunt Melissa takes me and Kelsey to the mall that’s an hour and a half away and we stock up, or we just order stuff online.
“I’m not ready to start thinking about school,” I said. “It’s still summer!”
“You’re right!” laughed Mrs. East. “You enjoy every last drop of summer!”
Then she went over to try to wipe the boys’ faces, which were covered in donut icing. It was also in their hair.
“So did you pick out a dress yet?” I asked Kelsey.
“Not yet,” she said. “I found a few online that Mom said she’d order so I can try them on. Here, I’ll show you.”
She grabbed her phone from behind the counter, which was a big no-no. Grandpa did not let anyone have a phone when they were “on the floor,” which meant out in the open in the restaurant.
“You have to pay full attention!” he’d say.
I hated this rule, because if there was some downtime, it could get really boring.
Dad came over then. “Are you girls doing okay?” he asked, eyeing the mess the Easts were making.
“Yep,” said Kelsey. “We’ve got it, Uncle Mike.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket.
“Kelsey, you know the rule,” said Dad. “And if Grandpa catches you, it won’t be pretty.”
“I asked to see her dress,” I said, trying to cover for her.
“What dress?” asked Dad.
“The dress she might wear for Fall Fling.”
Dad looked confused.
“Fall Fling is a big deal, Mike,” said Aunt Melissa, who had come up behind him.
“Oh, so I guess… well… we’ll have to get Lindsay a dress?” he said, and he sounded so scared we all laughed.
But I had kind of wondered about it. I mean, Aunt Melissa usually took me shopping for school clothes, but no one had mentioned dress shopping. There was one store in town that had some fancy stuff, and that’s where Casey’s mom would probably take her.
“It’s covered, Mike,” said Aunt Melissa. “You’re a great brother, but I would never count on you to pick out a dress.”
Dad looked relieved.
“So you bought me one?” I asked, confused.
“Nope,” said Aunt Melissa. “Your grandma Mimi did. Actually, she bought ten.”
“Mimi?” I asked. “Ten dresses?”
“Yes,” said Aunt Melissa. “There’s some store near her that specializes in this kind of thing. I think she originally bought a dozen, but I told her that was crazy, so she narrowed it down to ten.”
“Ten?” yelped Dad.
“Well, she’s only going to keep one,” said Aunt Melissa. “Unless you can wear more than one dress at a time. Can you, Linds?” she asked, teasing.
“So wait,” Dad said. “Lindsay’s grandma picked out her dresses? Can’t Lindsay pick out her own clothes?”
Aunt Melissa laughed. “Your grandmother has wonderful taste,” she said to me. “But there’s a lot to choose from, don’t worry. We will make sure you love whatever you end up wearing. Plus, she’s insisted on bringing them when she comes, so she’ll—” She stopped midsentence. “Oops.”
“When is she coming?” I asked.
“Melissa!” said Dad. Then he sighed. “Okay, Mimi is coming for a surprise visit. Or at least it was supposed to be a surprise. She wanted to be here for you guys on the first day of school.”
That was a little weird.
“Well, you know, it’s a big deal, especially because you’re starting middle school. She wanted to be here,” said Dad.
“We’re going to have a little dress party,” said Aunt Melissa. “Kelsey, Molly, Jenna, and I are coming, and Nans, of course. Plus Aunt Sabrina and Lily. And we thought we’d invite Casey, too.”
Aunt Sabrina is married to Uncle Charlie, and she’s my cousins Lily and Rich’s mom.
“I’m not invited?” asked Dad.
“Definitely not,” said Aunt Melissa. “We already have too many opinions with that crew.”
“My little girl is going to a dance,” said Dad, and he got a little teary.
“Is anyone working today or should we all have a cup of tea?” asked Grandpa, whispering loudly behind us.
“It’s okay, Dad,” said Aunt Melissa. “We just had a five-minute family huddle about scheduling.” She winked at us.
“Yep,” said Dad, taking her cue. “And here’s Lindsay reporting for her first day at Donut Dreams.”
Grandpa beamed. “There’s always room for family in the Park!” he bellowed. “Now get back to work, everyone!”
After we cleaned up from the East twins, which required sweeping and mopping the floor and cleaning the table and chairs they’d sat in, it was a little slow.
The lunchtime crew was getting busy on the other side of the restaurant, and I saw my cousins: Jenna, Kelsey’s older sister, and Lily in their waitress uniforms, serving table after table.
Jenna, Lily, and Lily’s older brother, Rich, were the only ones allowed to wait on tables, because they were old enough. Molly, Kelsey’s other sister, was a runner, which meant she filled the glasses at the tables, brought extra ketchup or hot sauce if someone asked for it, and replaced a napkin if someone dropped it on the floor—stuff like that. Then Kelsey and I were on the Dream Team. One day Skylar would probably work here too.
We got a little busier after lunch, when people would buy a donut to go. Kelsey and I had a good rhythm together, with one of us putting the donuts in a bag and the other one ringing up the customers and keeping the line moving. (We knew some of the regulars’ orders already.)
Principal Clarke, who was the principal of the middle school where I’d be going, smiled at me as she came up in line.
“Well, I think you’ll be joining us soon, Lindsay,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Looking forward to it!”
“Oh, I can’t wait to have you. It’s going to be a great year!” She watched as Kelsey packed her dozen donuts. “I’m headed over for a meeting now and thought I’d sweeten up some of the teachers!”
“Well, donuts usually do the trick!” I said.
I wondered about the teachers. Some of them were friends of Mom’s. But even if you know someone, they can act totally different when they’re in front of a classroom.
After Principal Clarke left, Kelsey whispered, “The sweetest donut in the world won’t sweeten Mrs. Gable up.”
I giggled because she was right.
Mrs. Gable taught at the middle school and also happened to be my next-door neighbor. She was what Nans called “a prune.” She was always complaining about things and was never really friendly.
Dad always shoveled her walk and helped rake her leaves anyway, which I thought was nice, since she was always yelling over the fence that Sky and I were making too much noise in the backyard.
Eventually, we slowed down again. We had to run an inventory report, which showed how many donuts and which kinds we’d sold, so that we could plan better and not run out. But since Uncle Charlie made the system automatic, we did that in about a minute.
Kelsey and I leaned on the counter. “Are you nervous about middle school?” she asked. “Because it’s different.”
“Not really,” I said. “How different can it be?”
“You wouldn’t think that much, but it is,” said Kelsey. “At least that’s what Jenna tells me.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Jenna always acts like she knows everything, and Kelsey and her sister Molly always believe everything she says. Since Jenna is already in high school, they act like she’s the queen. Jenna’s always been supersweet to me
and I love her, but sometimes her know-it-all attitude can get a little irritating.
“So according to Jenna, how is it different?” I asked.
“Well,” said Kelsey, “for one thing there’s more homework. And you move around from class to class a lot more.”
I expected those things. I mean, last year Mrs. Graves told us every single day, “You’ll see next year in middle school… the teachers won’t tolerate anything less than your best. And there will be a lot more work!”
And moving around from class to class? It might be nice to get a bigger change of scenery. I still wasn’t worried.
“So what kind of dresses do you think Mimi picked out?” asked Kelsey.
“Don’t know,” I said, starting to wonder myself. “There are lots more stores near where she lives, so she probably has a range, right?”
Kelsey shrugged. “Well, there’s definitely more there than there are here. I mean, there’s only one dress store in town. So you’re lucky, because your dress will probably be really different from everyone else’s.”
“Yeah,” I said, perking up. “That’s true, and pretty cool.”
Dad came over just then and whispered, “Elbows off the counters, girls, and look alive… or Grandpa will eat you alive!”
We giggled and stood up straight.
The main restaurant always had customers, but Donut Dreams definitely had busy times and not very busy times. We swept the floor again and moved the donuts around on the shelf, but there wasn’t a whole lot to do.
I felt bad because my other cousins were running around the restaurant. It wasn’t East boys’ level of crazy, but my friend Hannah’s three year-old brother, Tristan, could be a handful, and he kept dropping his silverware on the floor. Molly would have to scoot over, pick it up, and bring him a new fork or spoon.
Mrs. Wood was always really nice, but even she was getting tired of Tristan’s behavior.
